#so now most of that area has like.....half a layer of skin on it at best & is bleeding meat at worst

[httpiastri]

snowy mountains & hot baths – op81

you, oscar, and an empty spa can only lead to one thing.

genre: very short smut 😶

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

warnings: uhhh public sex.... unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it yall!!

author's note: happy valentines day :) wish i had oscar here to celebrate with me... anyway. idk about this one guys 🫠🫠 started out alright but then i hated half of it so i deleted it and rewrote it but it just got worse. and i know that if i don't just post it rn, i will likely procrastinate and never end up posting it at all. yay. hope u enjoy anyway! i also have another oscar fic done that's at least a bit better than this lol.

f1 masterlist

18+ content below, minors do not interact!

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a low groan leaves oscar's lips when he dips his feet in the warm water. he instantly turns around, eyes finding you standing by the door you've just walked through to get to this outdoor area of the spa. he holds his hand out towards you, beckoning for you to step closer.

"it feels so good," he promises, gaze following your every move as you let your robe slide down your arms. his eyes widen when you reveal your newly bought bikini – papaya orange, of course – and a shudder passes through his body at the sight of the tiny material trying it's best to cover you up.

he thanks all the gods he can think of that there's no one else around.

goosebumps grow across your skin now that you're exposed to the sub-zero temperatures, toes curling in the short layer of snow on the deck. you stroll over to him, making sure to let your hips sway a little extra with every step because you know he's watching and you know what he's thinking. the sight of him gulping as his eyes wander up and down your body can only mean one thing.

taking his hand in yours, you let him pull you into the water with him, letting out a content sound when the water envelops your legs and brings the temperature of your body up again. oscar gives your hand a squeeze and leans back, his back hitting the water as he submerged into it. you dive in right after him, making a few strokes beneath the surface before coming up for air again. your hands come up to wipe away the water from your face, before brushing over your hair and tying it up in a messy bun on top of your head.

"this is just what i needed," your boyfriend says, drawing out an agreeing hum from you. it's been a long day – a long week, really – filled to the brim with skiing, hot chocolate drinking, skiing, cable car-rides, and then more skiing. oscar doesn't usually get a lot of time off work, and when he does, he wants to make the most of it. and as his partner, he thinks you should be doing the same, and that's why he's woken you up in the early hours every morning this last week, practically bouncing from how much he aches to go out in the swiss alps yet again.

the hot tub is big enough to swim around in, but oscar makes his way to the side and sits down on the built-in seat, arms stretching out and resting on the edge of the pool. you swim over to him, easily slipping onto his lap and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. oscar tenses up when you sit on him, and you're not surprised by the length already poking up at you – he's just a man, after all – but you decide not to do anything to acknowledge it just yet.

"it's really beautiful here, don't you think?" you ask, looking to your side. the sun has only just set, so the little village isn't completely dark yet. the moon above your heads casts a soft hue over the mountains you've spent all week conquering, stars twinkling among the tops.

"not as beautiful as you, though." there's barely any lightning out here other than the little candles scattered across the floor, but you see the fire in oscar's gaze clearly when you look back at him. he's staring at you like you're the most perfect work of art, the most beautiful thing to ever exist – and your expression matches his, because he truly is your favorite thing to look at in the world. your heart flutters at the contrast between how cute he looks with a few locks of his long fringe curling along his forehead, and how incredibly sexy his body looks with the little droplets of water decorating his muscular chest. he's just stunning.

"you really did a great job with planning and booking all of this, you know," you start. "i may have complained quite a bit when you dragged me out of bed at six am, but... it's all been perfect."

your hands find the space just below his jaw, and it takes all of your strength not to blatantly stare at his thick neck when you feel the muscles under your touch.

"well, perfect except for the fact that my legs are so sore right now."

oscar chuckles at this confession, hands leaving the edge of the pool and dipping into the water instead. "let me help you out with that, then..."

a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his palms meet your bare thighs, fingers pressing into the skin and stroking you softly. your eyes flutter closed, loving every second of his massage and growing hotter when his hands make their way further and further up. it doesn't take long before oscar can't hold back anymore, reaching up to press his lips against yours.

you sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself further towards him, your crotch brushing against his as a result. the moan he lets out is so hot that you instinctively begin grinding down against him, wanting to hear more.

oscar gets the hint, but finds himself reaching for your shoulders, holding you back as he leans out of the kiss. your lips chase after him, a frown taking over your face when he doesn't give in. you open your eyes to look at him.

"are you sure... that you want to..." oscar's voice is low but genuine; he knows you aren't a fan of exhibitionism, and that these situations usually only make you uncomfortable.

but the look in your eyes is impossible to misinterpret. "there's no one around..."

he looks around the area once more just to make sure. choosing to go to the spa at 8pm, the exact time when the restaurant at the hotel was the most crowded, was oscar's best idea yet.

he doesn't say anything else. he just grabs the back of your neck, pushing you down to his lips yet again. it's more rushed now, messy kisses pressed against your lips and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip hastily. his other hand caresses all the way down your back, gives your butt a quick squeeze, and then moves to your front instead. his fingers trace the edge of your bikini before dipping inside of it, finding your clit with ease.

your upper body is completely leaning onto him by now, little sounds slipping past your lips as he starts drawing circles onto your already sensitive bud. in no time, he's slipped past your clit, one finger sliding into your core and pumping you a couple of times before being joined by another finger. you can't help but clench around him, exhaling into the kiss.

"please, oscar..." you whine against his lips, and oscar nods, pulling out of you and breaking the kiss. he holds your hips away a little to make space for his hand undoing the knot that holds up his swim trunks, before pulling his dick out of them. he lifts you up, fingers pushing your bikini bottoms to the side but pausing when his tip meets your core. he waits for your nod of consent before finally entering you.

the water helps him glide into you, a throaty moan rumbling from his throat when he bottoms you out. he doesn't give you even a second to adjust, hands on your hips pulling you up before sinking you onto him again.

"fuck," he lets out, throwing his head back when you start to roll your hips against his. "you feel so good..."

you lean forward, forehead resting on the bend of his neck as you bounce up and down on him. your hands move to the back of his head, fingers getting lost in his locks, and it doesn't take long before your movements get sloppier. you gasp when oscar begins thrusting up into you, meeting your downward movements in a steady rhythm.

his grip on your hips grows firmer, rough fingers pressing into your skin and surely leaving marks for tomorrow. he's getting closer, too – you can tell by the string of moans he's letting out in between a bunch of swearwords – and you use your last bit of energy to pick up your pace and help him out. your walls contract around him when you come, and you feel him reach his own high not long after, twitching and shooting into you as you ride out your orgasms.

his hands are more gentle now, brushing up and down your back and following the bumps of your spine. when you finally gain the energy to speak, your words vibrate against his skin. "well, we're never coming back to this spa again." you lean back slightly, looking up at him for the first time in a while. "or the town, for that matter."

his blissed-out eyes meet yours, soft and glossy as he raises his eyebrows. "why's that?"

his flushed cheeks make him look so innocent, but his heaving chest tells another story. "did you not see the cameras?" you question.

"oh, you think we're the first ones to do this here?" you gasp at his wording, splashing some water his way. he laughs. "what, do you really? i reckon this happens here at least once every day. maybe even more."

"oscar!"

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x yn #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri scenario #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x yn #f1 x y/n #f1 smut #f1 fluff #mclaren #mclaren racing

[peachdues]

Seasons in Love (modern college AU: Part 1/2)

Sanemi meets Y/N in January and isn't a fan. As the seasons pass by, their evolving relationship becomes defined by a handful snapshots from the various holidays throughout the year.

A/N: part 1/2 of my college-AU fic to fulfill @shiverisms request for tooth-rotting Sanemi fluff. Part 1 covers January, the Spring and Summer festivals, Halloween and the week leading into finals in December. Part 2 will cover Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. This is unlike anything I’ve really written before, so sorry if it drags!!

CW: swearing, some suggestive stuff but nothing too bad. College-typical drinking and debauchery.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

January 2nd – first day of the spring semester

Sanemi Shinazugawa hated many things. He hated the cold, because wearing too many layers made him feel like he was suffocating. He hated when the store was out of his favorite brand of dried seaweed. He hated whenever he saw that asshole, Douma, simpering his way across campus with a gaggle of unwitting freshmen trailing helplessly behind him.

But most of all, he hated change.

So, when Shinobu brought along a new face to their first family dinner of the new year, he’s not happy.

And initially, he felt vindicated by his reticence to welcome her as warmly into their friend group as some of the others, because, despite his friends’ kindness, she’d failed to even muster a grateful smile for her hosts.

Not once, during the entire affair, did the girl – Y/N -- so much as twitch her lips upwards; not when she met any of his friends, and certainly not at any of the jokes or fun they’d had.

It’s not that she’d been sullen and withdrawn — she’d participated in conversation just fine. But that bland stoicism on her face had really gotten under his skin, because it reminds him of Giyuu, and they’ve already got one of those.

Sanemi told Shinobu as much later that night as he kicked back in her worn, mismatched kitchen chair while the pharmacology student idly flipped through her biochemistry textbook.

“I’ll ignore the dig at Giyuu for now,” Shinobu said lightly, though her eyes flickered briefly up to his in warning, “but I would think you of all people would have a bit of compassion toward her, Sanemi.”

Sanemi reached out to snatch an apple from the little fruit bowl that Shinobu has on her kitchen table, taking a crude chomp out of it. “Why?” He asked, voice garbled by his thick mouthful.

Shinobu shot him a fleeting look of disgust at his lack of etiquette. “Do you remember that girl I was paired with in my mental health law seminar last semester? The one who dropped out of our final project last minute?”

Sanemi swallowed his mouthful of apple. “Yeah. You were pissed.”

And she had been. Shinobu had been stuck with doing the other half of an entire presentation just two days before it was due, and it had been on statutory interpretation which had not been Shinobu’s strongest area.

Shinobu’s scowled. “That’s because I didn’t know the reason,” she reached for a highlighter to mark text on the page open before her.

“Her little brother died. Cancer. He was only eleven.”

In one breath, all his prior irritation with the girl’s presence is extinguished within him.

Now, Sanemi felt like an asshole.

Because if anyone understood what it felt like to lose a loved one — especially one as young as eleven — it would’ve been him.

“Fuck,” Sanemi exhaled, apple falling to the table, forgotten. Absentmindedly, he reached his hand to rub at his chest, just over the jagged scar beneath his shirt that was one of the many souvenirs from the car wreck that had managed to kill everyone in his family but him.

That had been nine years ago — when Sanemi had barely been twelve.

He certainly hadn’t felt like smiling much after that, either. Truthfully, he’d probably be in far worse shape now had it not been for the people clustered in Shinobu’s and Mitsuri’s tiny apartment.

“She also got cheated on last semester,” Shinobu added after a moment.

Sanemi sighed heavily, feeling even worse. The poor girl had gone through what was arguably the worst semester, and he’d chapped her ass over not smiling.

“I didn’t know that — by who?” Tengen emerged from the adjacent living room, breezing by the table and into the kitchen to help himself to whatever was in the girls’ fridge.

Shinobu’s eyes hardened. “Douma,” her tone was poisonous.

Both Sanemi and Tengen groaned in unison.

“She deserves financial compensation for that one,” Sanemi muttered darkly, motioning for Tengen to toss him a beer. The sleazy, lazy, and arrogant student body President had earned the reputation of being a serial cheater around campus. Shinobu briefly had a fling with him their first year that she’d ended after only a few weeks, once it became all too clear that he was a master manipulator.

And, as Shinobu had referred to him, an utter man-whore.

Tengen padded out from the kitchen, beers in hand. “That explains why she doesn’t really have a friend group anymore, then.” He quipped, handing the extra beer to Sanemi before plopping down next to him at the table.

Shinobu hummed in agreement, hand seamlessly moving across the glossy page of her textbook as she made a small, precise note. “You know how Douma is — first he fucks you, and then he fucks you.”

Sanemi snorted, shaking his head. “So that’s why you feel so protective of her, huh?” He nudged her with his elbow. “You know what she’s going through.”

Shinobu shrugged him off. “Maybe; but so do you.” She said pointedly, hand flipping her textbook shut. “So maybe just try to be nice?”

“When the fuck am I not nice?” Sanemi demanded indignantly, and Shinobu shot him such a pitiful look that he felt his cheeks heat.

Tengen just laughed. “I think the real question is when are you ever?”

Sanemi glared at his loud-mouthed friend, but before he could respond with a snappy retort, Shinobu spoke.

“I’m not saying you have to be a saint, but I want Y/N to feel like she at least has some support here,” her tone was light but it carried that signature soft threat she used whenever she meant business. “so promise me you’ll at least try to get to know her.”

Sanemi groaned but acquiesced. “All right, all right,” he’d muttered, reaching back for his earlier-discarded apple. “I promise.”

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

March 23rd – Spring Festival

As winter melted way into spring and the cherry blossom buds had begun to bloom, so did Sanemi’s friendship with Y/N.

He promised Shinobu that he would try to make the girl feel part of their group, and Sanemi is a man true to his word – but in retrospect, he hadn’t expected it to be this easy to become friends with her.

It started when they realized they shared three out of their four classes together. Sanemi walked into his first seminar at the crack-ass of eight in the morning on the first day of spring classes when he’d spotted her sitting in the second row from the front. Sanemi didn’t like most of the other people in his class, so sitting beside her had seemed like a no-brainer.

It had been the best decision he could have made. Y/N was smart as a whip, and often went toe-to-toe with the self-professed “devil’s advocates” during class discussions, managing to weave in Shakespearean insults while simultaneously ripping apart their inane arguments.

Soon, they began to meet up for study sessions at Mitsuri and Shinobu’s apartment, as Y/N had also become incredibly close with the two girls. Sanemi began to find himself at the girls’ apartment far more than he was at his own. In March, he discovered they had precisely the same tastes in music; within a day she had sent him several specially-curated playlists that featured bands similar to his favorite artists.

By the end of March, Y/N had announced her plan to move in with Mitsuri and Shinobu.

It wouldn’t happen until the end of the semester, when Y/N’s solitary lease ended, but she’d planned to move in right before she spent a month at home with her family – which also marked the first time she’d return home since her brother had died.

Sanemi wasn’t surprised at how quickly Y/N had bonded with his other female friends; she had a sharp, dry wit that matched perfectly with Shinobu’s lofty, passive-aggressive attitude, yet also seemed to find delight in spending time with Mitsuri, with whom she’d rapidly become attached to at the hip. Part of Sanemi had hoped that her friendship with the two women would lighten the shadows that crossed her face every so often, and that maybe she would finally crack a smile.

It wasn’t as if Y/N wasn’t expressive – she was, particularly around her eyes. More often than not, she was scowling at him or rolling her eyes at his barbs, but there had been a few occasions when he’d thought that he’d caught something softer as she looked at him. Other times, he saw an amused twinkle in her eye whenever Mitsuri challenged Tengen to an arm-wrestling contest, as though she were on the precipice of laughter, though none ever came.

Shinobu had suggested Y/N’s failure to smile was just a way of her processing her trauma and grief, and that she was doing everything she could to cope. Sanemi had not yet broached the subject with Y/N, not wanting her to feel compelled to open up wounds she was trying so hard to stitch together, but he worried that she wasn’t getting the support she needed.

Near the end of the semester, Y/N had become slightly more irritable, constantly jiggling a foot whenever she sat down, or wringing her hands in her lap whenever she was in deep thought.

Sanemi had agreed to study with her for their last final, but was on his last nerve as she continuously clicked her pen, each press of her thumb against the cap harder than the last.

“You have to stop.” He finally snapped, throwing his own pen down on his notebook before him to glare at her. “I can’t hear myself think.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise at his outburst before lowering, her arms folding insecurely in front of her chest.

“Sorry,” she murmured, her foot beginning to twitch beneath the table.

Sanemi sighed and slammed his book shut, folding his hands under his chin as he braced his elbows on the table. “All right, out with it; what’s got ya all bent out of shape?”

Y/N didn’t meet his eyes, instead toying idly with the ends of her hair. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sanemi rolled his eyes and huffed. “You’ve been squirming nonstop for the last two weeks, and it’s only gotten worse,” he nodded pointedly at the way she kept twisting and untwisting a lock of her dark, silky hair around her index finger. “Somethin’s bothering you.”

Y/N remained quiet for a moment, but contemplative, weighing out the risks and the rewards of opening up to the scowling man sitting across from her.

“I haven’t been home since – since he died,” She began, shifting slightly in her seat. “And I’ve felt really closed off from my parents ever since the funeral. We haven’t talked much at all.” She bit her lip, staring intently at the wooden grain of the table. “I guess I’m just anxious about going back.”

Sanemi clicked his tongue. “I gotta say, I don’t envy you right now,”

“Thanks.” Y/N interjected coolly, but Sanemi held a hand up to quiet her.

“I mean, that car wreck just killed my whole family, so I didn’t have to deal with anyone else’s grief but my own,” Sanemi continued, and Y/N fell silent. “I can’t imagine having to deal with someone else’s.”

Y/N’s hand had fallen from her hair to the table, and it twitched toward him. She hestitated for a moment before finally reaching over and placing her small hand on Sanemi’s broad, scarred forearm.

“Sanemi, I had no idea,” she said, softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Sanemi surprised himself by not immediately shrugging off her touch, but he found it hard to meet her eyes. Most people looked at him with pity, and he’d long since lost the ability to stomach it.

Y/N slowly pulled her hand back from his arm, moving to wipe furiously at her eyes.

“Ah hell, I didn’t mean to make ya cry-“ Sanemi said, cursing himself for trudging up what had to be painful memories.

She shook her head furiously. “No, it’s not that,” she batted the tears from her eyes before meeting his gaze head-on. “I’ve just felt so…alone these last few months. Like I was drowning in my grief.”

Sanemi felt something within him stir at the intensity of her stare, something warm and comforting spreading through his chest. “But you’re not,” he said with equal quiet, offering her a small smile. “It’s the worst club to be a part of – the dead family club – but it’s nice knowin’ someone else in it.”

Y/N nodded, and Sanemi could swear he saw something like a ghost of a smile on her face, but it was gone as soon as it came.

“If things at home get too hard to deal with this summer,” Sanemi said after a pause, “just call me. Any time.”

And damn him if he didn’t feel like he could soar at the look of hope in her eyes.

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

July 15th – Mid-Summer Festival

Summer had passed by slowly and lazy in the blazing heat.

Sanemi had spent the majority of their break at the Rengoku family lakehouse, working alongside his best friend as a lifeguard at the local swim club. When he wasn’t shouting at kids for being walking lawsuits as they ran alongside the pool and drinking cheap beer with Kyojuro, he had been texting Y/N – outside of their active group chat.

It was insane to him that she’d become as close with him as he was to Kyojuro. Sanemi had found her so easy to talk to, even over the phone, and eagerly checked for her messages the moment he awoke and the moment before he fell asleep. Once or twice, Kyojuro had even grumbled that Sanemi rarely texted the group chat back but seemed to have no trouble responding to one of Y/N’s many memes or song recommendations.

But now, the whole gang had reunited for a holiday weekend at the Rengoku lakehouse to celebrate the mid-summer festival with a cookout and fireworks.

Translation: they’d all come to get absolutely plastered while enjoying some fun in the picturesque water surrounding the generous estate.

It was day two of the festival weekend, and six of them were in the water, locked in a fierce battle of chicken. Y/N was perched on Sanemi’s shoulders as she wrestled Mitsuri, who was close to strangling a sputtering Kyojuro with her thighs as she desperately tried to remain upright. So far, he and Y/N had knocked out the other pair — Shinobu and Giyuu -- and were vying for the title of Chicken Champions.

Sanemi wouldn’t lie that he’d initially felt a bit smug over how Y/N had darted forward to grab his arm when Mitsuri announced the need to partner up. He’d thought it was because of his strength — he knew he was jacked, and he assumed that she had (correctly) concluded that she stood the best chance of winning if she climbed atop his shoulders.

“I won’t let you fall, princess.” He’d crooned, winking at her. She’d rolled her eyes at the use of his nickname for her, and he’d puffed his chest out, feeling a cocky sense of pride.

As it turned out, he’d been dead fucking wrong. Y/N hadn’t chosen him because he’d looked the strongest.

No. She’d chosen him because he was the only one she could get away with outright abusing in her ruthless play for the championship.

“Left, left, left!” She screeched, fingers snaring in his hair to wrench him harshly to the side, her heels digging sharply into his abdomen beneath the water as she desperately tried to steer him away from Mitsuri’s incoming flailing limbs.

Somehow, despite the searing pain in his scalp and the spray of lake water in his eyes, Sanemi had managed to follow her directions and the pair managed to narrowly avoid catastrophe. But Y/N wasn’t finished, as she tightened her shapely thighs around Sanemi’s neck to twist him back so she could lunge for the pinkette now unsteady atop of Kyojuro.

Sanemi had never been more grateful that the water covered him from the waist-down, as Y/N’s thighs clenched around his head once more as she shoved at her best friend with all her might.

Mitsuri had been too unbalanced to resist Y/N’s attack, and she finally toppled off Kyojuro’s shoulders and splashed into the water.

“Chicken Champs!” Tengen declared from the shoreline where he had been refereeing, more interested in working in a tan than he had been in getting in the water.

“I knew we’d win.” Y/N sniffed, tapping Sanemi’s head lightly. “I didn’t scalp you, did I?”

But Sanemi couldn’t answer because he was fighting a losing battle to conceal the growing bulge in his trunks, fearful that if any of his friends saw, they’d never let him live it down.

He’d known he was in trouble when she’d first emerged from the girls’ room in that tiny red bikini. For the last three hours, he’d been constantly reminding himself that she was his best friend and was therefore off-limits every time he’d caught his eyes lingering a second too long on her exposed skin and that he valued their friendship above all else.

But those rationalities were getting harder to remember the longer he felt her legs dangling over his chest, and his self-control was rapidly slipping.

So, upon Tengen declaring their victory, Sanemi did the only thing he could think of to escape his predicament— he slid his hands under her knees and dumped her into the water behind him, Y/N squeaking as she fell.

By the time Y/N’s head breached the surface of the lake, her eyes blazing and ready to fight, Sanemi had already been halfway back to the lake house, with nothing but a cold shower on his mind.

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

Later that night, once everyone was thoroughly shit-faced and Kyojuro and Tengen were itching to light the fireworks, Y/N was nowhere to be found. Sanemi broke away from the group, heading towards the boat dock just down a grassy hill when he’d spotted her sitting on the edge of the pier. She was leaning against one of the posts, legs dangling into the water below as she gazed up at the brilliant expanse of stars twinkling in the night sky.

“It’s about time to watch a bunch of drunk assholes blow shit up.” He said, crouching down to sit beside her.

Y/N merely turned her head toward him before looking away again, remaining quiet. Her eyes were clouded and wistful as she peered up at the sky, her lower lip wobbling slightly.

In moments like these, Sanemi had learned the best thing he could do was stay silent. If she wanted to talk, she would, but sometimes, she just wanted him near.

The two were quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the slow lap of the lake water as it broke against the wooden pier, and the distant echoes of laughter as Kyo and Tengen drunkenly tried to set up the firework display.

“It’s been eight months since he died,” Y/N broke the silence, her voice soft. “And I hadn’t even realized. I was so swept up in having fun that I forgot about him for a moment.” She looked down at her lap, fingers twisting nervously together. “I must be awful.”

Sanemi shook his head, his hand itching to reach out and pat her back, to offer her comfort, but it remained still on the wood beneath him. “Nah. Not awful.” He lifts his gaze up to the stars twinkling above them, the mid-summer night sky resplendent with light. “It’s shitty to say, but sometimes you’ve gotta remember that you’re still livin’— even if they’re not.”

Y/N snorted, bringing a hand up to wipe at the tears that had begun to cling to her eyelashes. “That’s a harsh way of putting it.”

Sanemi grimaced, resenting how poor he could be with words. “I meant that he wouldn’t want you to keep yourself from living just because of him.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What brought it on, anyways? I mean, what reminded you?”

Y/N leaned her head back against the worn post of the pier, chewing on her lower lip in thought. “I guess when Kyo mentioned it was almost time for fireworks. My brother loved the summer festivals, but he really loved the fireworks.” Y/N’s eyes slid shut momentarily as she reminisced, echoes of vibrant colors and the sounds of her brother’s laughter echoing in the corners of her mind. “He’d beg my parents to stay up past his bedtime to watch them. They used to tell him ‘No,’ but he kept sneaking out to watch them anyways. They eventually just gave in.”

Y/N paused, as she wove the connection between the memory in her head with the heaving feeling in her heart. “I guess that’s why I came down here.” She shrugged, as though to deflect the pain and loneliness that curled her shoulders forward, that still lurked in the shadows beneath her eyes. “Didn’t wanna drag the group down, you know?”

Sanemi looked back to Y/N, so beautiful beneath the starlight, so kind, and so very sad.

“I don’t think anyone would think you’re bein’ a drag,” Sanemi murmured. “But tell ya what — if you’re ever feeling down again while we’re all together, how about you give me a signal and we can dip out together ‘til you feel better?”

Y/N sniffed eyeing him incredulously. “A signal?”

Sanemi nodded. “Yeah, like — I dunno — a code word or something?”

Y/N pursed her lips as she looked back over the still water of the inky lake, considering.

“How about ‘chicken?’ In honor of our win today?” She said after a moment.

Sanemi grinned. “Perfect.”

The telling whizz and whirr of fireworks being launched into the sky cut Y/N off before she could reply. With a resounding boom! the night sky filled with bright streaks of red, white, pink, and yellow. Between the pulsing claps of the thunder of the fireworks, Y/N and Sanemi could hear the distant whoops and hollers of their friends.

Y/N’s eyes were locked on the dazzling display of fire and spark above them, a mixture of sadness and wonder glistening within them.

Later that night, just as Sanemi had been on the precipice of sleep, he’d realized he had not seen a single firework that his friends had launched in celebration of the summer festival.

Because while Y/N’s eyes had been fixed on the beautiful show of color in the night sky, Sanemi had not been able to look at anything else but her.

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

October 31st -- Halloween

“Stop moving your face,” Y/N said exasperatedly to the scowling, white-haired man sitting before her. “You’re going to mess me up.”

Sanemi wanted to crack an eye to glare at her, but he feared she might stick one of her makeup brushes in his eye socket if he did. Instead, Sanemi clenched his jaw, fists balling in his lap.

“You’re taking for-fuckin’-ever,” he muttered, wincing slightly as Y/N dabbed a cold, gel-like substance against his cheek.

“I’m not the one who picked the most high-maintenance costume out of our entire group,” Y/N scoffs, pulling away from Sanemi to blend together a mixture of red, brown, and gray face paint to apply on the fake wound she has created along Sanemi’s sharp cheekbone.  “I mean seriously, a wolf demon? Why not just go as a regular werewolf?”

It is Halloween and Sanemi regrets ever agreeing to a group costume theme.

It had all started when Shinobu, Mitsuri, and Y/N had come to their weekly family dinner a month prior with wicked gleams in their eyes. They had waited until everyone else had been seated before Shinobu announced that not only had she gotten all their names down on an invite list for an exclusive Halloween party at the Wisteria House the following month, but they would all be dressing up as part of a group theme.

Tengen, Kyojuro, and Gyomei had each expressed excitement while Giyuu, Obanai, and Sanemi had remained silent, though the latter only did so because he was too busy gaping at the girls, his mouth full of food.

“Tell me you three’ve already figured out the theme,” Tengen had said, his magenta eyes alight with excitement. “I want to be the flashiest group in that fucker.”

Mitsuri’s smile had only grown wider. “Mythical monsters - specifically demons!”

Sanemi’s groan had been cut off by a sharp kick under the table from Y/N, who was glowering at him threateningly. One look from her, and he’d known arguing would be pointless.

And that was how Sanemi had found himself now, on Halloween night, sitting stiffly on the worn-out ottoman in the girls’ apartment while Y/N smeared liquid latex across his cheeks to create the fake appearance of claw marks.

Mitsuri was on the other side of Y/N, painting fake slits on either side of Obanai’s mouth to give him a more snake-like appearance to suit his Snake Demon attire. The moment Sanemi had seen Y/N’s hands free up after she had put the finishing touches on Shinobu’s Butterfly Demon makeup, he’d nearly toppled over the coffee table to claim her before Kyojuro could sit down and occupy her time.

Truthfully, Sanemi had just wanted the chance to be near her. She was already decked out in her full Spider demon costume; her face painted a ghostly shade of white and accented by red circles meant to mimic the appearance of spider eyes. Sanemi, however, had miscalculated one crucial detail in his haste to be the only one of the men that she touched to do their makeup — how skimpy her costume would be.

Y/N was clad in a thin, white wrap dress that cut short just above her mid-thigh. The dress, though sleeved, also boasted a deep v-neck, and Sanemi was avidly trying to avoid staring at her exposed cleavage, which had also been painted and dusted with a shimmering powder. Her legs were bare, covered in the same glitter as the rest of her skin, and she was already teetering around in heels that Sanemi knew damn well would not stay on her feet longer than an hour.

In fairness, Y/N’s costume wasn’t nearly as skimpy as her pink-haired friend’s. Mitsuri insisted she was going as a cat demon, but Sanemi failed to see the correlation between the black unitard with the plunging neckline and anything remotely feline.

Y/N’s fingers brushed against his cheeks as she dabbed a mixture of paint to create the appearance of blood and Sanemi wills them not to heat under her touch. The task is nearly impossible, however, because he felt like he was being electrocuted every time she brushes against him. That feeling was only accentuated every time she moved to lean over him and pick up yet another beauty tool, the sweet honey of her perfume more intoxicating than the shots Tengen had made them pound earlier.

Sanemi was so lost in thought as he reveled beneath Y/N’s heavenly touch that he failed to notice her step back, eyes scrutinizing his face as she considered her handiwork. Sanemi cracked an eye open and watched her nod in satisfaction, finally dropping her makeup brushes on the side table.

“You’re done.” She said, tapping his shoulder to motion him to stand. Y/N thrusted a tiny makeup mirror in his hand so he could inspect.

She’d turned his existing facial scars into fake, bloodied, fresh ones, but elongated them to give the appearance of claw marks. She added an additional vertical scar that extended from above his right eyebrow to nearly his cheek. All in all, Sanemi thought he looked -

“Scary!” Mitsuri exclaimed, eyes widening softly. “He’s sure on theme — he’ll terrify people!”

Y/N clicked her tongue in disagreement. “No, I don’t think he looks scary,” she tilted her head in thought, Sanemi feeling slightly embarrassed as the two girls continued to look him over.

“I think he looks…,” Y/N paused, her eyebrow quirking up suggestively as her eyes lit up, dancing with a challenge. “Feral.”

Sanemi grinned at her, purposefully bearing his teeth in an effort to look as wolf-like as possible.

Tengen came back into the living room from where he and Kyo were doing shots and winked at his silver-haired friend. “You’ll still be able to pick up girls looking like that, Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi doesn’t know why, but the comment irritated him, and he turned away from the group to hide his reddening face.

He doesn’t see the way Y/N’s eyebrows furrow at the comment.

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

It was two in the morning, and they are all utterly inebriated.

The Wisteria House — an exclusive club that Shinobu had only been able to get them into because of her connections to one of its proprietors — had been pulsing with music and lights as throngs of costumed revelers had ground to the thunderous beat of the music.

The group of them had thrived beneath the black light of the club dance floor, getting drunk on endless rounds of shots and mixed drinks that kept flowing from the bar like a waterfall of spirits.

But now, it was after two in the fucking morning, and somehow Sanemi had been stuck with corralling not one, but two drunk assholes back into their apartment despite being intoxicated himself.

The two assholes in question were also arguably the biggest lightweights out of all their friends — Mitsuri and Y/N.

Six of them had agreed to call an Uber to take them all back home to their apartments, but Kyojuro had gotten the whole group kicked out after he’d thrown up all over the driver’s pristine leather seats.

The blonde had been nearly unconscious when Tengen and Giyuu dragged him out the side of the car, and neither of them could stand to haul their blacked-out friend back to the boys’ apartment by themselves. But someone had to stay back to walk the two drunk girls back to their apartment because none of them were stupid enough to risk letting the girls walk by themselves - which was how Sanemi found himself in the position of the official babysitter of the two, shit-faced girls who stumbled along the pavement next to him.

“Kanroji — no, god dammit, st-op tryin’ to run,” Sanemi growled, his words a little slurred as he lunged to grab onto the pinkette’s arm as she tried yet again to take off into the night, giggling about how she wanted to run and feel free.

Mitsuri began wailing because Sanemi is a big meanie, but she shuffled along beside him in resigned obedience. Sanemi bit down on the litany of curses threatening to spill from his lips as he whipped around to lay eyes on the other girl he’d been charged with escorting safely home.

Y/N was limping along, about ten feet behind her friends, her legs quivering from exhaustion thanks to those fucking heels she’d insisted on wearing. How she’d managed to remain upright and not snap both her ankles was a mystery to Sanemi, but right then, he was annoyed and wanted nothing more than to slump home and pass out in his own bed.

“Y/N!” He barked behind him, the girl’s face blearily looking up in alarm. “March!”

“‘Nemiiii,” she whined, stumbling slightly as her balance shook. “I can’t — hiccup — go any faster.”

Sanemi ground his teeth. “Try harder.”

Y/N managed to flip him off before stumbling again. “Mitsuri’s right, you are a meanie.”

Sanemi had had it; it was nearly three in the goddamn morning, and somehow the man with the least amount of patience had been stuck with the two drunkest shitheads in his circle of friends, and those shitheads were keeping him from embracing the sweet oblivion of drunken sleep.

So, he snapped.

Hand still wrapped firmly around Mitsuri’s forearm, he stomped back to Y/N, tugging his other friend helplessly along behind him. Standing before her, Sanemi crouched and turned to glare up at his swaying best friend.

“Climb on. I ain’t arguing.” He ordered, and to her credit, Y/N complied, looping her arms across Sanemi’s sternum and locking her legs around his waist. He thinks she would have put up more of a fight had her feet not been about to fall off.

“No fair! I wanna be carried!” Mitsuri whined, tugging at his arm.

Sanemi just trudged along, relief flooding him as the girls’ tiny apartment comes into view. “You know how to walk in heels, Kanroji. She doesn’t.” He jerked his head back to the half-unconscious girl clinging to his back.

By some miracle, Sanemi and the girls finally arrived at the apartment, and Mitsuri was at least coordinated enough to fumble for her key to unlock the front door.

Once inside, Sanemi kicked the door shut behind him, and Mitsuri broke free from his hold, half-sprinting into the kitchen to chug some water.  Sanemi readjusted his grip on Y/N’s legs and moved towards her closed bedroom door, ready to dump her on her bed and go the fuck home.

“We made it!” Y/N’s sleepy voice murmured in his ear. Sanemi grunted in response, moving to deposit her on the soft down of her mattress when he felt her lurch forward on his back.

He was about to snap at her for being difficult when he felt the sloppy press of a soft pair of lips against his ear.

“Thanks, ‘Nemi.” Y/N said sleepily, falling off his back in an unceremonious heap on her bed. She sunk into the ridiculous array of pillows and blankets she insisted on piling onto her mattress.

Sanemi realized she’d been aiming for his cheek, but had missed in her drunken stupor. Nonetheless, his ear burned where her mouth had been, and he felt slightly hot under the collar of his flannel shirt.

“Drink some water so you’re not violently hungover tomorrow, idiot.” Was all he said as he moved to leave her room and finally, finally, return to his apartment.

“‘M-Kay. Love you.” Y/N slurred, and Sanemi froze. “Love my ‘Nemi. You’re my bestest friend in the world.”

Sanemi’s heart thumped wildly in his ears, though the slight lead of disappointment sunk in his gut. She loved him like a brother, of course — not as anything — as anything more than that.

Sanemi moved to exit the apartment, checking to ensure Kanroji hadn’t fallen asleep on her back, and pausing only to place a trash can next to where she was passed out on the couch. He softly closed the door behind him and began to make his way back to the apartment he shared with Kyojuro and Tengen.

Sanemi’s feet stumbled slightly on his journey as his mind reeled. His ear still burned from Y/N’s kiss, and her words echoed and clanged around in his head until he could hear nothing else.

Somehow, Sanemi ends up in his bed, sleep rapidly creeping up on him as his eyelids grow heavy. In his haze, he thought about how, despite being in a club surrounded by her friends and drunk off her ass, she’d still failed to smile even once.

As he drifted off, he thought about how empty and cold he felt now that he is no longer bearing Y/N’s warm weight on his back. Though he’d only been carrying her, she had felt indescribably good in his arms, and Sanemi cannot think of much he wouldn’t do to be touched by her again.

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

December – one week before finals.

A snowstorm had blown through their city that afternoon.

Though, perhaps “snowstorm” was too light of a description; in a matter of hours, an outright blizzard had dumped nearly three feet of snow across town and had utterly and thoroughly fucked the roads. The university had no option but to cancel classes through at least the end of the week.

Sanemi had looked forward to a night in, preferably with some video games and maybe some of his boys. It had been a long, strenuous week; truthfully, he felt like killing some virtual monsters.

It seemed, however, that his friends had other ideas as to how to spend their newly-freed evening, and of course it involved doing the exact opposite of what Sanemi had hoped to do.

He’d been in the middle of frying an egg for dinner when his phone began vibrating. He’d ignored it at first, until it nearly buzzed itself off his counter, Sanemi having to jolt to catch it in his hand before it hit the cracked linoleum of his kitchen floor.

His phone was steadily buzzing with new messages in the group chat. Swearing slightly under his breath, Sanemi unlocked his phone and scrolled up to see the message that had prompted the flurry of reactions and enthusiastic agreements from his friends.

It had started with a message from Tengen.

Quad. 20 minutes. Snow ball fight.

Sanemi groaned and responded only to tell Tengen to fuck off. But then Y/N had replied that she and the girls were on their way, and she’d called him a baby bitch for sitting out, so he’d had no choice but to bundle up in his thickest flannel and sweater and head towards the quad.

By the time Sanemi trudged his way through the shin-deep wintry sludge, a full-on war was being waged on the campus green. Though it was nearly midnight, the snow illuminated the winter wonderland around them, and Sanemi could see all his friends and a few other straggling students engaged in a fierce battle.

He scanned the quad for a sign of Y/N and spied her about 20 feet away, swathed in a thick, wool coat and hat, crouched slightly behind a tree. Beside her was a small pile of densely packed snowballs, like a stockpiled winter arsenal.

“Ya know you’re supposed to throw the snowballs, right?” Sanemi chided, sidling up to where she stood, just off the snow-covered walk of the green. She had two snowballs clutched in her gloved hands, but her eyes were fixed on someone, her tongue darting out between her lips in concentration as she calculated her next move. “Like, actually throw ‘em at people.”

Y/N tore her eyes off whatever target she’d locked onto to give him a withering glare. “I’m trying, smart-ass, to figure out the best way to hit Gyomei in the face,” she turned away from him once more, resuming her careful assessment of the tallest target on the quad, who was busy pelting the back of Giyuu’s head with scary precision.

Sanemi’s grin turned wicked. “Kinda sadistic of you to target the blind guy, isn’t it?” He goaded, bending down to scoop up and a handful of snow for himself.

Y/N whipped around at him, eyes blazing. “He’s throwing snow chunks at people, you fuckhead, and all is fair in war-“

Y/N’s rant was cut off as a well-packed sphere of snow smashed into the side of her face. She dropped the snowballs she’d been holding, her hand jumping up to her cheek in shock, as the skin beneath it stung from the icy bite of the snow.

Sanemi let out a hearty laugh. Y/N stood there, mouth gaping and dark hair plastered to the wet of her cheek, an adorable mix of both shock and indignation on her face.

Behind him, Sanemi heard Mitsuri’s tinkling, mischievous laughter.

“Motherfucker,” Y/N breathed, staring after her roommate, her eyes lighting up with a promise of swift retribution.

“Oh come on,” Sanemi laughed again at her, open and deep. “You had it coming — that’s what you get for tryna hit the blind -“

An explosion of ice and water smacked into the side of his face, soaking his hair and the collar of his jacket.

Y/N whirled to see Obanai wink at her before he took off to join Mitsuri to guard her against the onslaught flying snowballs.

Y/N turned back to Sanemi and gasped.

Obanai had not just thrown a snowball packed from the generous coating of fresh, pristine powder that covered the green; rather, he’d made a small grenade, using snow and slush gathered from the side of the road.

Gray snow dripped from the side of Sanemi’s face, soiling his cheek, and staining the cream sweater he had on beneath his jacket. Sanemi was frozen in his surprise at being caught off guard until a small, unfamiliar sound snapped him out of it.

The source of the sound made his heart drop to his stomach.

It was Y/N, who was staring up at his soiled face, watching as the black snow slid down his cheek and dripped onto the ground below him.

And she was laughing. Laughing at him.

The sound that rattled from her chest was neither a snicker nor a snort; it was a raspy, raucous cackle. Her head was tipped back slightly, as she gawked up at him, her eyes crinkled with mirth as she vaguely gestured to the smear of gray on his cheek and dissolving into another fit of giggles.

Laughter subsiding slightly, Y/N stepped forward and swiped her hand through the sludge still gathered on Sanemi’s face in a poor attempt to wipe the gray stain away. She realized it was futile though and looked instead at her now-dirtied palm in slight distaste, wiping it against the black wool of her coat.

She peered back up at him and smiled, broad and radiant.

That exhilarating smile faded, however, as Sanemi stood there, motionless, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly parted, shocked into silence.

“Sanemi, what-“ Y/N started, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Do it again,” Sanemi whispered, breathless. He’d not blinked or dared to do so in case he might miss it. “Smile again.”

Y/N’s eyebrows knit in confusion before softening. She’d not realized she’d even done it.

But Sanemi looked so awestruck, so desperate that she couldn’t deny him. So, she grinned broadly at him, cheeks almost burning after months of non-use, though she could not find it within herself to care.

Sanemi slowly returned the smile, pure joy illuminating his features. And they both began to laugh, without restraint, even as snowballs continued to whizz by them.

By the time the snowball fight had ended, Sanemi was soaked to the bone.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying attention to the slushy projectiles that had been lobbed with precision by the carefree college students who had gathered on the quad. His attention had been exclusively on Y/N as she pranced and ducked through the snow, smiling and laughing with abandon.

She’d been exquisite to watch.

One by one, his other friends had caught notice, had pricked their ears at the sound of an unfamiliar laugh that rang through the campus green, and turned to identify the source. As they watched Y/N run and duck and throw with that broad grin on her face, they too, had fallen still, their eyes going soft as they realized the enormity of the moment.

Because when Y/N smiled, she was a completely different person.

She looked bright, carefree, and more radiant than the sun. The resplendence of her smile made the snow look ugly and dull in comparison.

Mitsuri had watched her best friend with tears in her eyes, and Shinobu had looked close to joining her.

All the while, Sanemi had been unable to tear his eyes from her, and the warmth that he felt spread through his numb fingers and cheeks made him swear that he would do anything, anything at all, to make Y/N smile again.

—————————————————————————

Sanemi felt as though he was levitating even after he dropped Y/N off back at her apartment. He may as well have been floating on a cloud as he made his way down the hallway of the dimly lit hallway of the girls’ apartment complex, because he’d finally seen Y/N smile, had seen her laugh, and it was goddamned glorious.

Mitsuri emerged from the hall stairwell, cheeks pink and eyes bright from the evening of fun in the cold. She giggled as she saw the gray stain still on Sanemi’s face from the sludge ball he took.

“I would say ‘sorry,’ but honestly, it was pretty funny,” Mitsuri teased, nodding at his disheveled appearance. Sanemi snorted, but he couldn’t feign annoyance or irritation because he felt so damn good.

“Tell your boyfriend to watch out tonight, or else he might find his bed outside.”

Mitsuri giggled again, but then fell quiet, something more serious crossing her face.

“When are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?” She asked, her voice low.

Just like that, Sanemi felt as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him, as though he was crashing right back down to earth under the weight of the accusation she wanted him to answer for.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said gruffly, averting his gaze so he did not have to meet Mitsuri’s knowing stare.

Sanemi knew Mitsuri could see right through his bullshit — could tell by the way she huffed at him and could see it out of his periphery in how her head was cocked at him. He looked back at her and nearly recoiled at the vast pity swimming in her jade eyes.

“Fuck, Mitsuri,” he groaned, leaning against the hall wall and letting his head fall back against it with a thud. He ran a hand over his exhausted face, and slightly resented the fact his friend had always been so discerning in the affairs of the heart.

“I can’t put that kind of pressure on her,” Sanemi admitted quietly after a long moment, arm falling back down to his side, limp.

Mitsuri had been right, of course, he was in love with Y/N. He’d suspected it for a while, but seeing her radiant smile that night only confirmed that the persistent twisting he had felt in his heart over the last few months had been more than mere longing. 

But Sanemi also knew he’d long been toeing a line that he can’t cross.

“If things between us went south, what then?” Sanemi continued, “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’ll feel like she’s the one who has to leave, and I-“ Sanemi hesitated, shaking his head. A lump formed in his throat, threatening to suffocate the emotions that have been fighting to break free from his heart. 

“It would be fuckin’ selfish of me to take that from her after she’s tried so hard to build herself a support network. I can’t do that to her, ‘Suri.”

The pink-haired woman sighed and joined him as he leaned against the wall, the two staring off into the empty space before them.

“She is a part of our group, that’s true,” Mitsuri agreed, though contemplative. “But you, Sanemi, have been the biggest source of comfort for her.”

Sanemi scoffed. “Well, that’s what best friends are s’pposed to do.”

Mitsuri shook her head, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “No, I’m her best friend,” she nudged him playfully with her elbow. “You though… you’re different. And I think she knows that, too.”

She kicked off the wall, and made her way towards her apartment door, pausing just as she reaches for the knob.

“After all, you’re the one she smiled for.”

Mitsuri and all her pink disappeared into her apartment, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

Sanemi remained against the wall for a while longer, his head and his heart a tangled web of hope and doubt.

The walk back to his place is solitary, and so Sanemi tried to sort through the snarled brambles of his mind. As he shuffled through the winter landscape, Sanemi thought that he’d never fully appreciated the snow before. He hadn’t noticed how beautiful snow-capped conifers looked, branches heavy with the sparkling ice; hadn’t realized how beautifully quiet the world could be when blanketed beneath a thick coat of white.

He thought about how Y/N looked standing amidst the chaos of the snowball fight, cheeks flushed with the cold and her own adrenaline, a smile as wide and bright plastered on her face. He basked in the warm echoes of her laughter as she lobbed yet another snowball at the back of Mitsuri’s head, squealing in delight when her friend returned her attack tenfold.

And Sanemi thinks that the snow wasn’t so bad after all.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Stick around for part 2 if you want to find out if Sanemi will finally confess (and how he’ll likely screw it up 😉)

#demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #kimetsu no yaiba #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kny x reader #kny fanfic #sanemi drabble #kny #kocho shinobu #shinobu kocho #mitsuri kanroji #kimetsu mitsuri #kny mitsuri #kny shinobu #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku

[ohthewh0rror]

YOU TOLERATE IT.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — “hey i love your writing. Can you write a tom riddle x reader with tolerate it by taylor swift”

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I’m starting to realize Tom is perpetually broke in most of the one-shots I write about him, but like, it’s the late 40’s and bro is working in retail while living in the city. My man is not gonna be rolling in money by any means (lmao). Also, let’s act like living together unmarried is cool in the 40’s.

“I know my love should be celebrated but you tolerate it”

The bitter December winds left you shaking, the cold seeping beneath the layers of your clothes and settling deep into your skin. Winter was never your favorite time of year, it was far too cold and wet for your liking. The only good thing that came out of this wretched month was your lover's birthday, which is what brought you out of your flat and out into this dreary weather.

Tom may not care much about celebrating his birthday, seeing it as just another day of the year, but you always tried to do something special for him anyway. The past three years you had bought a cake and a handful of little gifts, but money was tighter than usual this year, as your hours had been nearly cut in half, leaving the two of you to rely more on Tom’s salary at Borgin and Burkes, so just a single present with no cake would have to suffice this time. To make up for only getting one thing, you decided to get him something special, and it took almost 3 months of saving and cutting corners in certain areas just to save up for the gift you were getting for him.

It was a limited edition book Tom had been eyeing for a while. You weren’t exactly sure what it was on, as Tom wasn’t one to share his work or research with you, but it seemed awfully important to him. So, with the little money you had saved you set out for the day to purchase it. Luckily the store was fairly empty, letting you get in and out quickly, now all that was left was to get home and find the right time to give it to him.

Stepping through the door of your shared flat had never felt like such a relief from the biting cold that was unable to reach you here in the warmth of yours and Tom’s place. You were careful to hang your coat and purse on the appropriate hooks, knowing Tom would ask you to straighten it if it wasn’t placed in the correct spots. You placed the bag containing his gift on the countertop, not bothering to hide it, as you knew Tom wouldn’t ask about it.

While you were happy to see Tom, he didn't seem to share the sentiment as he only spared you a quick glance before going back to reading the documents that sat before him on the table, the work before him apparently far more interesting than you at the moment. You tried not to be disappointed as you walked to him, rounding the table to where he was sitting. You least hoped to receive a ‘hello’ kiss from him, but, as you dipped down to place a kiss on his lips he flinched away from your touch causing you to stop where you were.

You could feel his breath fan across your face as your face hovered close to his, a feeling of hurt spreading through you. Tom must have seen the look on your face because he quickly apologized, “I’m sorry, darling, you took me off guard.”

Meeting you the rest of the way, he gave you a quick kiss, but you were still unsatisfied. His kiss seemed detached, almost impersonal, as if he was doing the action out of obligation and not love. You tried not to think too hard on it as Tom has never been very passionate, but it seemed like lately the love that was once there was being replaced by indifference. You knew every relationship had its ups and downs, but it was still difficult to work through as your presence felt as if it was being merely tolerated instead of sought after.

“Have you eaten lunch yet? I can make us something,” you offered, hoping he’d agree to it, as you couldn’t guarantee he’d be here for dinner and you wanted to give him his present. Tom gave you a simple ‘that’s fine’, before going back to his papers, leaving you to get to work.

As you made lunch you told Tom about your day and other small happenings in your life, just trying to make conversation with him. What Tom was working on must have been important because he was quieter than usual, not giving more than a one or two word answer. “—I mean, can you imagine?” You asked with a giggle drawing your lengthy story to an end, expecting to hear Tom’s amused voice in response.

Instead you were met with the opposite, “come again? I didn’t hear what you said.” Tom sounded unimpressed, making you falter, another wave of disappointment sweeping through you at the fact that he wasn’t listening to a word you said. “It’s nothing, just something silly that happened…” you trailed off at the end, not wanting to even bother finishing your sentence. Tom said nothing, and you didn’t bother saying anything else.

You and Tom sat in silence while you both ate, and though it wasn’t tense, it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. At least not to you, who now worried about giving Tom his birthday present. While you shouldn’t be worried about giving it to him, as you knew it was something he actually wanted, you couldn’t help but worry that you’d be met with the same unimpressed response.

You couldn’t just keep the present all night though, and if there was any time to do it, it was now. So, you got out your chair and grabbed the book from the bag it was in off the counter. Walking up to Tom you stopped just before him, causing him to set his fork down and look at you expectantly. You took in a breath before forcing the words out, “Happy 22nd birthday, Tom.” You held the book out to him, and he gently grabbed it from you, reading over the title.

You weren’t sure what you expected. A passionate kiss? A genuine thank you and declaration of love? Or maybe even just a grateful smile? Because what you got was none of that. No, you were met with a strained smile and a small thank you before he went back to eating.

You stood there for a second longer before going back to your seat feeling embarrassed. You saved for so long and put so many of your own wants aside in order to save up for this gift only to get nothing in return. You bit down harshly on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying at how truly unappreciated you felt by him.

Maybe it is time to leave and end things for good, you’re sure he wouldn’t be bothered by the absence of your presence. You could leave and start over, get a new job, a new place and find someone else.

Someone who actually loved and appreciated you.

But as you looked up from your plate and gazed upon his face you knew that you’d never be able to just up and leave. It would only leave you with a heavy ‘what-if’ hanging in the back of your mind. What if you were just overthinking his actions lately and this was just a normal rough patch? What if you hadn’t left? Would it have worked out?

You didn’t want to live with that ‘what if’, you would stay until he forced you away. So you keep quiet about your displeasure and just sit and watch him flip through the book, dreaming of a life where Tom is as madly in love with you as you are with him.

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you

[crunchyorochiru]

Have you ever looked at your EAH oc and realize they look boring? They technically fit in EAH, but they don't standout? At best, they resemble a background character? Then you're in luck, because that was literally me until I finally realized the difference between a main character and a background character in EAH. I'm not a character designer by any means, but this is what I've noticed. It essentially boils down to 3 main principles:

1) Complexity

Complexity is subjective, but I will be defining it as the amount of detail in a character’s clothes. A main character will have complex clothes, typically with some pattern and an extra layer of something on top of their clothes. This can be seen on Apple, with the patterning on her dress, the skirt-area layers, the bows on her feet, and her puffed jacket.

On the other hand, a background character will typically have little to no complexity in their clothes, as shown by these characters.

2) Color variety

Color variety is the amount of color in a character. Counting the hair and skin, main characters will have at least 5.

On the other hand, background characters have at most 4.

3) Contrast

There’s a certain background character I haven’t brought up yet who fits the previous 2 conditions.

Her design is complex, and she has many colors, but this is the reason why she’s a background character:

All of her colors have mostly equal value. There's no contrast. Because of this, your eyes don't know what to focus on, so she blends into the background. Here’s another example:

A main character would have contrasting values split between the lower-half and upper-half of their body, and the values are organized in a way where attention is drawn to their face. For example, the upper-half of Maddie’s body has saturated, darkly-valued colors surrounding her face, while her lower-half has lighter colors and a simple pattern to not take attention away from her face.

Apple doesn’t have a perfect 50-50 value split, but the contrast is still there. Her clothes are saturated, darkly-valued colors, and the remaining light parts (jacket, hair) lead to focus on her face. 

Now to put these principles into practice, I'll be showing how I applied them to my oc. This is her original design:

While the contrast is visible and does bring attention to her face, her color variety is lacking, and her clothes aren't very complex. She's supposed to be the niece of Alice Wonderland and the daughter of Hans Christian Andersen, but you can hardly tell. She looks like a regular, non-fairytale character. Overall, I didn't like her design, so I made the second version:

The contrast in this one is also visible, but rather than bringing attention to her face, the attention goes to her skirt. There's slightly more color (not counting the book she's holding,) and I replaced her vest with a patterned jacket, but her clothes are about as complex as her original design. Plus, she still looks ordinary, which leads to the current design:

This version isn't perfect, but it's the best balance of complexity, color variety, and contrast compared to her previous versions. Little touches like the ribbon and the mini-apron make all the difference for her complexity. There's more color (still not counting the book,) and contrast brings attention to her face. She still doesn't exactly evoke fairytale vibes, but she's getting there.

Again, I am not a character designer so my word isn't gospel, but I hope this was helpful!

#ever after high #eah

[bleeding-hart]

visuals for the marauders

putting this here so I have a reference later when I'm actually writing and posting the fanfic (rn I just have a good chunk plotted out and some scenes in my brain). Also including their pronouns so it makes a little more sense. For their clothing, it's just their choices when they don't have to wear the school uniform (I hate the uniform deeply imo no one looks as hot in robes). I am taking artistic license with their designs bc I can make them look better than their canon designs do easily. If I said something contradicting these earlier, ignore it, I've got shit memory and adhd.

Sirius (he/they/she): long hair, one of those really queer nonbinary bun type things? She wears half goth half casual punk clothing stuff (like fishnet shirts under sleeveless black hoodies/ corsets with leather band jackets, etc. Definitely a spikey black boots/spiked collar type person). Decently pale skin and really dark blueish eyes, like the night sky right before it fades to black or the sea during a thunderstorm. They do their own piercings which has given them more than one infection, but he does have some successful ones (nose bridge, eyebrow, lots of ear stuff, and snakebites). Remus will insist to do it for them if he knows that she has a new idea, and he's significantly safer about them.

Remus (he/they? He/him? Somewhat cis but has a complicated relationship with gender): short golden brown hair that's in a barely noticeably mullet style. Nostril piercing (Sirius said it would look good on him so he did it). Warm-toned light brown skin with a lot of freckles that you generally can't see, dark amber eyes. Dresses for comfort over style, which usually means t-shirts, sweatpants and beat up old sneakers. Their only very noticeable scar on their face is one over their lips and chin. They have more, but the others are more skin toned.

Peter (he/they, sometimes it): generally very cute, light skin with some freckles and messy wavy blonde hair, pale sky blue eyes. Sirius is trying to convince him to let them give him snakebites but he's very on the fence about it (he barely even wears makeup so he isn't the most adventurous about that stuff). Thick/long lashes. Tends to wear muted neutral colors. The only jewelery that he's consistent about is a leather bracelet he always has on his left wrist. Tries to not be visually noticeable, tends to hang around the back of the friend group and let the others get all the attention.

James (he/him probably): longer curly/wavy dark brown queer mullet (tboy energy) and warm brown skin. Dark golden toned brown eyes. People tend to think he and Remus are cousins or something which he thinks is really funny (he's definitely turned around and started making out with him for as a bit when someone asks them if they're related). Usually wears brown dyed or bleached jeans and reddish-brown/brown/green-brown/yellow t shirts and tops for the cohesive and effortless energy. Paints his nails bright colors whenever he can as a contrast to Sirius's chronically flaking black nail polish. Has his lobes pierced but usually just wears gold studs. Wears gold bands around his biceps so he can flex when he wins a quiddich (<- I did not check how to spell that, you know what I mean) match

Regulus (he/him): he prefers to wear more formal clothing because that's what he was raised doing and the layers help him cover up any raised areas on his binder, but when that isn't an option/he's too depressed to do anything fancy, he wears black hoodies that are significantly too large for him (barty or evan's usually). Makeup tends to give hm dysphoria, but he always fills in his eyebrows and he'll put eyeliner on his waterline when he's going to an actual event. He pierced his tongue as an act of rebellion when he was younger and now he just fidgets with it a lot, other than that he just has his lobes done (he got them as a newborn) and he always leaves them empty in hopes that they'll seal up.

I know what the others look like but this is long enough as is haha

#marauders era #marauders #hp marauders #jegulus #marauders hc #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #regulus black #peter pettigrew #wolfstar #sunseeker #starchaser #queer marauders

[pistolpackinpops]

Ring, Ring!

A Harrysport-esque grooming-as-a-social-activity fic.

And a phone-head study.

Here you are again. Out of the cool nothingness of stasis and back into the maelstrom of a Fazbender diner, complete with a fine mist of blood, mucus, and expired pizza glomming to your exterior as soon as you step inside. You didn't miss it. Well, you didn't hate it, either. Hard to hate what you got quite good at. And, well. 

Managing the pizza joint on the ground usually means you're arbiting fewer lives. Afton Robotics, being the keel of the whole operation, meant you were overseeing or making life-altering decisions daily, most of which is crystal clear in your mind despite the thirty, forty years. You’re relieved to be free of the burden (that of which you will never forget) and reactivated. Managing a pizzeria is as easy as breathing. It’s comfortable in the way wearing full battle rattle is comfortable, in that it is heavy, and choking, and turns you numb, but you’re alive.

Alive, and covered in soda. It’s been a very, very long time since you were last covered in soda. It dries rapidly against your shell and happily congeals to the contours there, in the seams of your rotary dial and the holster of your hand receiver. Preliminary sensors tell you none of it seeped into your interior.

But your stomach turns all the same. You are a rust hazard. 

With practiced ease you reach into one of the desk's larger drawers. Instead of paperwork or office supplies, you are greeted by folded up rags, spray bottles, brushes, and a mirror. You withdraw each one with careful, deft hands; you use the butt of the water bottle to push everything out of the way. The mirror bumps up against the edge of the monitor console. You glance over the grainy footage, letting instinct guide your hands.

The mascot employee has taken the dining area well in hand. Your boss– Mr. Kennedy– is hurrying down the corridor. 

You use the mirror to guide your cleaning. Liquid onto a rag, which you ball up and run across the sticky layer of soda, letting the solution soften it. Music thrums through the wall as one of the monitors becomes awash in color. A concert of some kind. 

(You should really be overseeing operations. You've been through so much worse. Why are your hands shaking?) 

(Reactivation is a blessing. You don't want to die here.)

Who said anything about dying? 

Cleaning fluid starts to run down your front. Yeah, maybe you used too much. It's not like you can FEEL the soda sticking to you. It didn't even penetrate. The door jostles behind you. 

“Heyyy, employee! I saw what happened earlier, are you…?” 

It is Fazbender conduct to refer to subordinates as exclusively ‘employees’. Your boss always says it with a stutter, a nervous gleam in his eye, like he's doing something wrong. You always notice it, like now, but never know what to do with it. He has no reason to be nervous. 

He's not the one slacking off. 

Slowly, you remove the rag from your faceplate. Most of the soda has been lifted. The rubber lining you installed shines wetly in the gaps of your panels. 

Your boss sidles up to your side, orange hands hovering. 

“D'you want any help with that..? I'm surprised none of it got on your suit, honestly. Hey, I can put the soda machine out of order so it doesn't happen again!” Your boss says, voice ramping up with excitement. “Or I can, uhhh-” 

For the love of Foxy, you need to find your voice. 

“Sir,” you say stiltedly. “Are you worried about me?” 

Not. Not what you remotely meant to say.

“Of course I’m worried about you, employee,” he says.

Your boss stands uncomfortably close. Parts of him shine back at you in your little mirror. The lower half of his face. His neck. Scarred in familiar ways, like a reflection of your own skin. The teeth marks of springlocks. 

Tremulously, you switch the damp cloth for a dry one. His great big orange hand encircles your wrist. His eyes– black glowing pits– bear into your rotary dial. 

“Sir,” you growl. “I can handle it.”

“Walter has the fort for a minute. Come on, Harry. This is the least I can do,” Mr. Kennedy urges. “You're falling apart.”

The small fans built into your head kick on. (Gotta cool the modicum of circuitry feeding off your spinal cord, after all). Your skin from the shoulders down turns clammy. You really, truly are not handling yourself well. Rebecca had warned you that there would be– an adjustment period. But fumbling this hard after doing so well? Losing your composure so thoroughly even your boss- whose behavior is conflicting with your programmed protocols– notices? Hearing your maybe-alive-name from a Stranger?

Unforgivable.

You try to tug out of his grip. His fingers tighten. You’d look, but your optical array doesn’t point down in that particular angle.

“You can– clean the receiver. Watch the speakers. What do you mean, the least you can do?” You say, deciding to acquiesce.

Mr. Kennedy breaks out into a smile, showing off his missing teeth. He frees your wrist, but his palm glides across yours until the rag is firmly in his grasp. Not yours.

“I left you hanging all month.”

“You're the owner. You have your own affairs, such as… dragging in lawsuit-generating robots and gremlins. It is nothing short of a miracle we've gotten this far at all, you know. Your eye for restaurant cohesion is awful,” you say in a rush. 

Mr. Kennedy laughs. It should be a deeper, richer sound than it is, considering his stature. The faux nose crammed inside your head picks up the faint waft of rot as he suddenly leans into your space, one hand rising to grip the foot of your shell. He uses the other to mop up your base panel where fluid has been collecting. 

It is extremely forward. It is also strange to be on the receiving end of this kind of attention. Even at the height of Freddy's empire, you were held apart, distanced from Phone-men social rituals. Rebecca had changed this somewhat, but the novelty… 

“Sure, so let me make it up to you. You've been doing great work. I appreciate it,” Mr. Kennedy says, steady as ever. 

He avoids your rotary dial while carefully wiping away the tracks of soda. You stare up at him, hoping he does not pick up on the faint stream of noise eschewing from your sound system. Such high praise, and for what? 

“You called me Harry,” you state inanely. “Why?” 

Here, Mr. Kennedy falters. His easy-going grin shrinks and the corners of his eyes crinkle, demeanor momentarily dimmed. He visibly mulls something over, tongue poking out between his bright orange lips. 

You fold your mirror down and swivel the chair to face him directly. He shrinks back slightly.

“I talked to uh, Scottie. Rebecca,” he confesses. “She told me some things.”

“I see.”

And you do. It makes sense. Rebecca probably divulged the information out of a wicked sense of duty. Phone-heads stick together and this tangerine man isn’t overtly dangerous. Wordlessly, you pluck one of the long-handled brushes into your fingers and offer it to Mr. Kennedy. It has a curved end and a soft cloth-like topper. Good for following the contours of your shell and less irritating than a bristle brush. You’re not sure how much instruction to give your boss. On one hand, he is your superior. On the other…

He’s no Scott.

But he isn’t human, either, so maybe it cancels out.

“One of us should really be back on the floor,” you say suddenly. “Truly, sir, this is as spick and span as it gets for me on a Friday.” 

The fuss is unnecessary. Your composure is starting to return to you like a tide coming back to shore. You can deal with your sugar-crusted receiver. You can handle the cacophony of children, parents, and barking doggos. The worst of it has passed.

Mr. Kennedy grips the corner of your head and starts lightly tracing your panel gaps with the brush. 

“Sir, use a bit more force!” You warble out, modem feedback leaching into your output.

“I don’t want to poke your brains out!” Mr. Kennedy sputters. “Jesus. Hey, does this, uhhh-”

He drags the tool clumsily through, but there’s firm contact between the cloth, plastic, and rubber, so your sensors stop freaking out. Still, the entire lower half of your body is breaking out into gooseflesh, too aware of his proximity.

You remember, suddenly and vividly, your boss going for his zipper at the slightest provocation.

“Do not finish that sentence,” you hiss. “You can’t– don’t worry about that.”

He laughs, a low, deep bark of surprise. Then he tilts your head up, letting the light shine directly into your optics, his own eyes screwing up in concentration. Desperately, you wonder how well he can actually see with eyes that don’t appear to actually exist.

“I think I got it all,” Mr. Kennedy says. “Now, that handset of yours… Can I touch it?”

He did “get it all.” And the effect has been nothing but calming. You aren’t so dense as to not know why. Fear does funny things. Elevated emotions get lost in translation with your current configuration. Higher-ups do not usually– do whatever this is. It can’t hurt to let him finish the job, you suppose. After all, it was your original condition.

“Do you have to say it like that, sir? Here,” you say, handing him the piece. 

A part of you braces for him to grab at your rotary. That is the normal sequence of events. But he doesn’t. Your handset lays limp in the palm of his hand, the black coil shining starkly against the hue of his skin. If he listens closely, he’ll be able to hear the faintest sounds of your breathing.

“So, like, how do you receive calls? Do you have to be hooked into the wall?”

“No. We’re not equipped to handle the signals coming from a direct POTS line. It’s wireless.”

It’s not something you’ve ever had to explain before. Most people never cared, or gave it much thought, and you always took your calls in private. Not all Scotts did that, of course. You’ve been told you’re more reticent than you maybe should be. 

“Really? That’s pretty modern, isn’t it?” Mr. Kennedy prompts, eyebrows lifting high, even as he’s otherwise occupied.

He is quite deft with his fingers when he wants to be, apparently. He’s scrubbing at a stuck piece of residue in the curvature of your receiver. You didn’t realize he’d gotten so far in– cleaning.

“Afton Robotics is– was– quite the… establishment,” you say flatly.

“That it is,” he sighs. “That it was. There! All clean.”

Something in Mr. Kennedy’s face shifts and you unknowingly brace yourself for impact. He smashes your handset back into place with the same fervor of a slam dunk, irises blazing in their sockets. You grab the sides of your shell, unable to muffle the cacophony of ringing and shrieking filtering from your speaker.

“Why the h-heck did you do that?!” You cry out. The base of your neck smarts from the force.

To his credit, Mr. Kennedy quickly seems to gather himself, looking down on you with abject horror. Like he hadn’t meant to do that to you at all–

“I’m so, so, sorry– I was just thinking how much I’ve always wanted to do it, and then I did, I forgot– did that hurt?” Mr. Kennedy stammers.

“No- no worse than a Foxy bite!” You choke out, deciding to eke out a shaky thumbs up. “Just… don’t do that again. Please. Sir.”

Dully, you realize you’re still ringing. You cut the noise quickly and, as smooth as you can, rise to your feet. Briefly, you reach around for your cane, but you must have left it in the dining area after the– initial incident. 

Right.

“I… Thank you for the help, sir,” you say, drawing yourself to full height. “I truly do not deserve it. Now, I really should be going back out there. See you on the Flipside!”

“...Of course, employee. Anytime–”

But you’re ducking out of the door before Mr. Kennedy can finish. You ignore his silent pleading look and refuse to check if he’s following you back out or not.

#harrysport #dsaf #dsaf harry #jack kennedy #dsaf old sport #beige writes #ill crosspost to my actual blog and ao3 soon

[shadowbriar]

could you do some writings for cedric please ;(

Series of Pleasant Firsts - Cedric Diggory

Pairing : (F/M) || Cedric Diggory x Reader Word Count : 3k Warning : None. Notes : When the walls between love and friendship starts to crumble, will any of them be brave enough to take the leap of faith and tear it to shambles? Idk how to describe this story. It’s just fluff. Thank you for requesting!

She watches as he tries to break his own record at stone skipping with a wide smile. He’s always been so gifted with outdoor activities. Both muggle and wizard sports, he seems to be a master of it. How his cheeks are always tinted with rose colour from the burn of the sun, his skin gleaming from the sheer layer of sweat. Cedric Diggory is a one beautiful boy, indeed.

She misses this. Spending quality time with him, just the two of them. Having separate houses in Hogwarts were starting to create distance between them. It didn’t help either that the friends they made with were not of the same circle. Him with his popular little Miss and Mister Perfect friends while she finds comfort with the more quiet and reserved flock.

“Come and take a dip with me.” Cedric says with a smile, panting as he takes his top off.

“No.” She says short, looking back to her book “I’d rather stay in the dry area, thank you very much.”

“Oh, come on! You’ve even got your swimsuit on, it’d be a shame to not test it in the water.”

She didn’t budge, glueing her eyes to the pages.

“I promise your book will still be here once we’re done.” Cedric says, taking her book away gently as he tosses it to the picnic basket “Besides, you kind of owe it to this lake. Remember how we would always go here every other weekend? It’s been ages since, so you have to take a dip.”

He didn’t let her have another minute of thoughts as he pulled her by the waist, practically dragging her to the body water. Her scream echoes as he throws her in, soaking her entire body with the cold water. She wanted to be angry at him for not giving her the chance to take her cardigan off but it’s hard to stay mad at him. Especially when his eyes glisten as he chortles like this.

Their smiles bloom even wider as she begins to splash water on him. They playfully drown each other until he admits defeat, evidently letting her win just to please her. Now they’re standing close in front of another with smiles still tucks on their lips, making the most of time to study each other’s features.

A lot has changed in him. Cedric was always a beautiful boy and yet somehow he’s grown even more beautiful as if it was ever possible. His jawline is more defined, cheeks more hollow as he lost his baby fat. It was as if his face was sculpted by a Greek God and Goddesses themselves.

“You’re staring.” He says, biting down a smile.

“So do you.”

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?”

She blushes.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

And there it is. Any guy. Not I would be lucky to have you.

It’s frustrating at times how gentle and tender Cedric’s gesture could lead her on. There are more than a handful occasions where she could have sworn that he sees her more than a best friend. The way he treats her has changed to how he did when they were still children. To admit embarrassedly, she feels like Cedric is treating her like a lady instead of a mere friend.

A lady he wishes to win their heart.

“Let’s not talk about boys, shall we. I have just enough girlfriends chirping in my ears about them at school.” She says with rolled eyes, walking to the edge of the lake “I’d have my head if you too decide to lecture me about them.”

Cedric smiles, amused as he swims further to the middle “Why, what do your friends talk to you about?”

“You know, how everyone is apparently dating everybody else. How they’ve got their first kisses already and how pleasant a date in Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop is. All those sappy things I’m sure your friends are also on about.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” He chuckles lightly “I’m sure they’re not half as bad as you moan them to be.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re always swarmed with beautiful perfect girls who are willing to drop their knickers down for you anytime around the clock. I, on the other hand, am not so lucky with a romantic life.”

“Come on, that’s hardly ever true. I’ve heard a lot of my guy friends talk about you.”

“Well the next time you hear any of them talk about me, do send them my way. I’m tired of waiting for some guy to finally ask me on a date.” She groans, feeling pathetic on herself “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.”

Cedric raises his brows, “You haven’t had your first kiss?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head, getting off of the lake “Pathetic am I not?”

She walks to their picnic spot, placing her wet cardigan on a tree close by so it could dry. She dries herself with a towel, brows slightly furrows at the sight of Cedric coming out of the lake too. He’s usually not out until the sun’s down.

“I have an idea.” He says, looking quite unsure of himself “But you have to promise me you wouldn’t kill me and throw my body to the lake.”

She raises an eyebrow, “How do you mean?”

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t had my first kiss yet either.” Cedric admits, cheeks looking rosy at the confession “I’ve only lied to my friends so they would get off of my back.”

“Who did you tell them you had your first kiss with?”

“You.”

She went mute. 

The flush on her cheeks are probably more crimson than his now. His eyes were still glued on her, intently examining her reaction. For the first time in her life, she’s seen Cedric being this flustered.

“So seeing that we have a common problem and how I had dragged your name into my lie, I was thinking.. Maybe we could just.. You know, have this over with?”

She blinks rapidly, trying to process his words. He’s still standing there, unnerved. His eyes were still anticipating an answer, fingers fidgeting as he waited patiently for a sign.

She asks hesitantly, “You want to.. Kiss me?”

“Only if you’re fine with it.”

She silently pinch herself, trying to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming. Cedric Diggory is really asking her for a kiss. Though his reasoning is plainly based as a friendly favour, she still finds it hard to accept the fact that he wanted to kiss her.

“Alright.”

He grins, sighing in relief, “Brilliant.”

“So how would we do this?”

“I- I don’t know.” He admits, sounding unsure himself “I mean, we’d just.. You know, kiss.”

“Okay. Of course. Right.” She nods timidly, trying to maintain her composure “Should I keep my eyes open? Or would you find it more comfortable if I close them?”

“Open them, please.” He says softly as he takes a step closer, placing her hand on her jawline “I’d like to see your eyes.”

She nods.

It’s getting harder for her to stay relaxed. With every inch he’s closing in, she finds her body to be more rigid, afraid that one wrong movement would make him pull away and change his mind. She wanted this, Godric knows how badly she’s prayed for this. She could only hope that he wouldn’t hear how loud her heart is thumping right now.

“I’m going in, okay?”

She could only reply with a nod.

She closes her eyes as his warm breathing meets her face. Within seconds she could feel Cedric’s soft lips touching hers, gently brushing over each other. She could feel the electricity jolting through her body with every peck. For a first kiss, he surely knows his way around.

“Wow.” He breathed as he pulled away, eyes still closed as if he tried to cling onto the feelings longer “We should’ve done that sooner.”

“Shut up.”

She shoves his shoulder playfully, trying to hide her tomato face.

The kiss would certainly haunt her mind for days, if not months from now.

“So, uh, we’re still friends, right?” Cedric asks, rubbing his nape “I mean, the kiss.. It didn’t change our friendship anyhow, right?”

She bites down the heartbreak, nodding and smiling instead, “Of course.”

“Brilliant.”

Again, she could have sworn she saw the disappointment reflecting on his eyes. As if he was feeling the very same bitterness she’s feeling right now. But as he said it himself, the kiss changes nothing. They’re still friends. Just like they’ve always been.

Just friends.

____

The Hufflepuff boy runs to her, a smile plastered on his face. It seems like he’s been searching for her around the castle with how many beads of sweat trailing his face. His face was slightly red, panting as he tried to control his breathing.

“Hello, there Champion.” She teases, fixing his shawl that was slightly misaligned from all the running “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I’ve been looking for you.” He says in between his pants “You would not believe what has just happened.”

Her brows furrow, intrigued at what he’s saying, “What, what happened?”

“I’ve asked Cho Chang to be my date for the Yule Ball and she said yes!”

The smile on her face starts to dissipate. Her eyes were starting to look blank as she let the words sink in. He’s asked another to be his date. How foolish of her to have expected him to ask her instead.

“That’s brilliant, Ced.” She says with fake excitement, smiling though it could not reach her eyes “I’m very happy for you.”

“Thanks.” He nods, looking proud of himself “I have to be honest with you, I was worried she would’ve said no because I heard Potter was planning to escort her too. Thank Merlin she chose me instead.”

She nods, still forcing a smile, “Good for you, Ced.”

The rest of his words went in and out of her ear with no remark. Only becoming a background noise she tries so hard to quiet down, feeling suffocated at its ringing. Though he’s always been surrounded with girls, there has never been one Cedric was evidently interested in. Everyone just comes and goes, becoming one of the many names mentioned in his stories. 

She’s always known that one day or another she would have to face the day when he would find a girl and have his world gravitate towards her. Leaving her alone as a lost satellite. No matter how much she wanted him to know that he is her sun, she knows that in his universe, she was just another passing star.

“So, uh, how about you? You’re going with McLaggen, so I’ve heard.” Cedric says, bursting her bubble back to reality “I didn’t know you two are close.”

“No, no we’re not.” She says flatly, not looking at him “He’d asked me but I haven’t said yes. I was waiting for someone else but I supposed I’ve hanged McLaggen for too long, I should give his answer now.”

“Wait, you were waiting for someone else?” Cedric asked, stopping their pace “Who?”

“It doesn’t matter, Ced.”

The sparkle on his eyes dulls down as the puzzle clicks, “You were waiting for me, weren’t you?”

“Just forget it. It’s not like we owe each other anything.” She says harshly, her tone coming out a little bit more rude than she intended “Besides, not everything has to be shared with a friend.”

Cedric’s eyebrows rose, looking offended, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying,” She turns to see him, hands balled into a fist as she tries to control her disappointment that is now transforming into anger “We should stop gatekeeping each other's feelings because it’s getting toxic.”

Cedric was appalled. He doesn’t understand where all her anger was coming from. If anything, he should be the one to be angry at her. She was the one who’s gotten a date first before him. He should be the one saying all these hurtful truths.

“Consider said feelings gone. From now on we don’t know each other.”

She nods, holding in the tears threatening from her eyes, “Done.”

____

Ever since their fallout about their Yule Ball date, neither of the two has exchanged a word to another. Still, that does not mean he doesn’t get her full support through his tasks. Her worry was growing deeper and deeper with each task passed. Though Cedric won first place on the second task, knowing how Harry barely got out of the water in time was enough of a nightmare for her to live with.

Screw their argument, she thought. She’d rather have him break her heart daily than to live with the thought of him away, not knowing if he was safe or not. If she has to live the rest of her life with him being oblivious of her feelings then so be it. Any of that would be better than not being able to comfort him when he’s in trouble.

And so she finds herself struggling to meet Cedric. She squeezed herself into the crowd of Champions and their supporters but the blond boy was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he’s gone elsewhere right after the second task score announcement was made. Helped Cho to get warm or something.

But just before her heart turns desperate, she hears her name being called.

She could recognise his voice anywhere, anytime. Before she could call him back, Cedric has already wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in a big wet hug as he pulls her close. Her body heat is his only source of warmth, gritting his teeth in coldness as he rests his head on the crook of her neck.

“I was so worried they’d taken you to the lake.” He says, frantically examining her face “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about!”

“Merlin.” Cedric sighs in relief, pulling her back close to his chest “They’re trying to get me killed, for real. If not from the tasks then from a heart attack, I swear it.”

“Don’t say things like that.” She protested, feeling scared of the thought “You know I hate it.”

Cedric couldn’t find a word to utter. Instead he just chuckles lightly, tightening his embrace on her. Helga knows how much he misses having her in his arms. He peppers her forehead with kisses, trying to ease both of their worries away.

She didn’t know what happened but the waves of emotions made her cry. The worry, the stress, and frustration of not being able to be there with him has driven her crazy. Now that he’s here, giving her the very embrace she’s longed for, she couldn’t help but to shed a tear or two.

“Hey, listen,” Cedric says, breaking the hug as cups her face, gazing on her eyes deeply “I know that things haven’t been pretty lately and I know I have the bigger part at fault in that, but I really can’t spend another day without you anymore. If you want to hate me, then hate me but hate me close so I can still see and touch you.”

“Ced-”

“No, I’m not done.” He cuts fast, still frantic from the jolt of adrenaline “I know we’ve been friends for as long as I can remember but I’m willing to burn that bridge and build another one with you. I don’t want us to be just friends anymore. I want you to continue being my first. My first friend, my first kiss, my first heartbreak, everything.”

She cries, nodding to his words.

“And if you’d have me, I’d try my best to be your very last. I know we’re still young but being there in the lake- Screw it.”

Spending no other second, he finally seals their lips. The very same feelings they felt years ago when they shared their first kiss by the lake washes over them. In fact, this time the feelings were magnified. Their despair and crave for one another has certainly enhanced their hunger.

She finds herself melting under his touch. Cedric’s kiss was more demanding than she last remembered them. This time he kisses her with greed, trying to make sure that she knows just how aching he is without her. He wanted her to know that she is the only remedy to his thirst.

“Wait,” She says as she breaks the kiss, earning a confused and disappointed look from him “What about Cho?”

“She understands.”

Cedric paid no mind to his words before continuing the kiss. He has certainly found something new he hates most in this entire universe- being interrupted as they kiss.

“Wait, Ced.”

Cedric lets out a huff of exasperation, “What? What is it this time?”

“Mr. Diggory.” An authoritarian voice calls from behind. Cedric has to bite the embarrassment down when he turns to see Professor McGonnagal eyeing them two with her strict eyes “You are expected at the Headmaster’s room along with the other Champions. I’m sure the two of you can continue your business later.”

Cedric nods, pursing his lips in embarrassment, “Yes, Professor.”

Professor McGonnagal gives one last nod before turning her heels to go into the castle.

She has to bite down her laughter as Cedric turns back to see her. Her cheeks were pink, embarrassed yet feeling blissful at the same time.

“I have to go now.” Cedric says softly, smiling yet looking like he wanted to stay “I’ll find you once I’m done.”

She nods, grinning, “Alright.”

“I’ll come back to that.” He says as he plants a chaste kiss to her lips “And that.”

“Just go.” She says with a giggle, smiling in between his kisses.

Cedric smiles, pulling her into another kiss before finally walking away.

She watches as his figure slowly drifts away. Her heart is still swelling from the new reality she’s trying so hard to comprehend. She bites her lower lip, trying to prevent herself from grinning like a lunatic. From then on, she knows that whatever first she has to do, she’s sure that they would only be a series of pleasant firsts with him.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x you #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x oc #cedric diggory x y/n #cedric diggory fluff #cedric diggory oneshot #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory fanfic #cedric diggory fanfiction

[listenheresweaty]

Revivebur x magma cube reader while I procrastinate on part three

so I swear part three of the other revivebur thing is in the works

but here’s some food

(A slightly suggestive hc at the end)

Most people, including myself, headcanon that revivebur is permanently cold after his time in limbo. Just a naturally lower body temperature, and he feels it.

So he often seeks out warmth. Maybe that’s why he likes sunrises: the night finally ends and soon he’ll be able to sun on a rock like a lizard— idk.

Anyway, as a magma cube, you would have a naturally warmer body temperature. But because you’re half human, you aren’t completely accustomed to your own temperature (especially the temperature of the nether, where you live) and often seek out colder areas.

Wilbur stumbles upon your cottage at the edge of the crimson forest after being attacked by literally every creature out there because the bitch doesn’t wear armor.

He breaks into your house

You threaten to kill him first, but this scrawny, scruffy man looks so wholly un-intimidating that you let him hang around.

you have a friend now!

You show him around your tiny cabin, the mushroom and nether wart garden, the Hoglin farms.

he’s a little impressed— this tiny (you’re a tiny magma cube), scarily buff (you gotta be to hunt hoglins) person has built a cottage core lifestyle in literal hell.

Maybe you miss having people around, just a little, so you set up a guest room and let him chill there a while.

fun fact: no bacteria can live in the nether or it’s inhabitants (except piglins, they have a lower temperature). This is good for Wilbur’s hypochondria :)

when you get particularly close, you finally get some platonic cuddling. — mostly initiated by Wilbur because he’s the touch starved rat of the friendship.

As soon as he’s clinging on to you he isn’t going to let you go. /j

you’re a walking space heater, and his only regret is that you’re so small that you can’t reach and cover every part of him, so when cuddling his long ass legs remain in the cold.

you tell him that’s what blankets are for but he refuses to listen.

fun fact: you already feel oddly warm to him through layers of clothes, but your skin practically burns without them (not painfully)— a sensation he’s quite partial too, being a known pyromaniac.

#revivebur #dsmp #c: wlbr #dsmp wilbur #dsmp x platonic reader #dsmp x reader #mcytblr #revivebur x reader #revived wilbur #revivedbur x reader #c wilbur #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur #friends to friends with benefits to lovers #sweaty “writes”

[theobjectofyourire]

Imagine daemon seeing a very wet aemond on a rainy stormy night.He slowly traces his eye across every inch of his body: the areas where the wet clothes cling tightly in his skin , the exposed fragile neck adorned with droplets of water, silver hairs that are plastered on his back and finally his ivory pale face where the rosy cheekbones are glowing and daemon finally reach out for him.

Or, daemon accidentally seeing aemond taking a bath.

Plz someone needs to write about a wet aemond!!

oh, we're getting into it and it's gonna be nsfw, buckle up friends.

so listen, we could make this positively filthy, right? I mean I know we all collectively lost it when we saw this frame. Daemon slowly strips him out of his leathers, peeling the layers from his skin as his hair clings to his back, his chest glistening in the soft glow of his chambers. He should be shivering, as any man would be. But Aemond, closer to god than to man, is unbothered, a delicious little smirk on his lips as he stands before the roaring fire, rid of his under things and dripping. yes, in more ways than one.

Daemon remains fully clothed, eager to worship his nephew in every way, delighting in his scars which seem to shimmer in the light. Seeking to taste every inch of the prince, he drags his tongue along his chest, capturing the remaining droplets of water. Ever the rogue, he sinks to his knees, his eyes dark with hunger and reverence. This reversal is such a rarity between them but gods, they both love it.

Aemond's sapphire is still shrouded by the leather patch and while Daemon loves to look upon the gem, loves to admire the scar and his beautiful bravery, he cannot but moan at the current state of him. Naked as sin, damp, tousled hair, wearing nothing but the eyepatch...seven hells, Daemon has never felt such an ache. He can't believe the man is real. He can't believe that of all in the realm, he is the one Aemond most craves.

His nephew looks down upon him, his large, strong hands caressing his cheeks, his thumb running along the Rogue Prince's lower lip. His single eye almost unbearably piercing, seeming to know all his secrets. The eyepatch casts half of his face in shadow. Oh, he looks a scoundrel. He looks a sea lord. No...no, it's more than that. He looks the Drowned God himself. The deity the Iron Islanders so worship, both cruel and blessed, a thing as violent and beautiful as the sea herself.

Kneeling before his lover, who right now looks more pirate than prince and gods, it makes him weak, Daemon realizes, mayhaps for the first time, the depths of his own devotion. There isn't a thing he wouldn't do for this boy. This beautiful, beautiful god. So much more than his kin, a piece of his own soul resides in Aemond. A lust. A chaos. An insatiability.

They will consume one another, of this, there can be no doubt. And once devoured, there will not be a shred left of either of them. Daemon doesn't care. He wants Aemond in all his everlasting glory, and if the price is destruction, so be it. Tis a fair exchange.

~~~~

I always intend to answer these in like one paragraph and then end up writing like a mini fic I'm so sorry but let's talk about this bath idea. Because the first thing I thought of was Jaime and Brienne in season 3.

Let's be honest, we don't just love Daemon/Aemond because of how spicy they are. We love them because they're Shakespearean. They're gothic. They're pure tragedy.

And I think of that bath scene with Jaime and Brienne. I think of the way it's the first time we see him so vulnerable, the first time she sees the man he truly is. I think of how Daemon and Aemond both are perceived in a very specific light. I think of how they both put on airs to protect themselves, that they trust so few to see them as they are.

I think of them opening up to each other with all of Jaime's bitterness, fully prepared to be judged, but too tired to pretend.

Imagine, for a second, a canon divergence. Where peace is achieved for a short time. An unstable peace, but peace, nonetheless. Both sides have faced loss, both Daemon and Aemond have suffered tragedy at the hands of one another. They're both in the Red Keep, as are most of the Blacks and Greens trying to maintain this truce. Aemond is covered in grime, in bruises and in blood, and Daemon knew he would find his nephew bathing. He could use a bath himself, in truth.

Daemon isn't a man of peace. He wants to goad him. He wants to break him, to get Aemond to collapse the truce with a swing of his sword. But what ends up happening is far more unexpected and desperately more intimate. They both break, the way Jaime does with Brienne, admitting all to the other person. The good, the bad, the ugly. The truth. As painful as it is, they're honest with each other.

And it gets heated. I mean, gods, the pain they've inflicted on each other. At one point, Aemond's hand is around Daemon's throat. But he can't do it. He can't. A tear falls from his eye, and his uncle can't stop himself from brushing it from his cheek with a tenderness that surprises them both. Their voices are whispers. Neither of them know what's happening, but it feels so delicate, so soft, and they're terrified of destroying it.

It's a slow embrace, full of uncertainty and hesitation, but so too is there a longing. An aching. They need each other. After so much agony, they need something kind. Something warm. They need forgiveness.

With a kiss, gentle and needy, it is given. They melt into each other. Their anguish intertwines. They moan in pleasure, they weep in grief, but never, not once, do they let go.

~~~~

this was literally gonna be a paragraph, why am I like this. but gods be good, anon, thank you for your lovely Aemond musings and all that it sparked. I think I need to properly write these fics now, I'm kind of obsessed.

also, as an aside, I absolutely adore pirates and obviously there's something very piratical about Aemond's aesthetic, and I just feel like Daemon would like it as much as I do, and I hope you vibe with it, too!

I'm going to try and write more of one of my many Daemond fics (I'm sorry I'm such a slow writer, I promise they're coming), but please please please keep sending these in. I love answering them and I love seeing that other ppl love Daemond as much as I do!

#hotd imagine #daemond #daemon x aemond #aemond x daemon #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #daemon targaryen #aemond imagine #daemon imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #asks and replies #asks welcome

[thricedead]

I am kind of being hit by my special interest in makeup so let me talk about my collection a little under the cut ♡ I am a friend to all makeup i literally have products ranging from 114 eur to 1,20 eur I will put anything on my face.

SKINCARE + FOUNDATION

I have a skincare set from Lancôme - a high performance anti-aging cream (Régenerie H.P.N. 300-peptide) and the matching around-the-eyes cream. I also use their youth activating concentrate in both variants. I've been using it for only a couple of days and the effect is soooo good I'll miss them so much when they're gone...

I have oily skin, so I use an oil-free mattifying foundation (from Catrice). I rarely put it across my entire face, focusing on the eye and cheek area since I have bangs over my forehead and the rest of my face is decent. I haven't been contouring since I quit gyaru but I have a contour palette from Aura which served me well. When I do happen to go heavier on the foundation I usually thinly cover it with finishing powder (clarifying finishing powder from Wet n Wild) but doing this makes me look really waxy so I avoid it unless I'm going for a doll-like look. I sometimes use concealer (Maybelline Eraser) but I avoid it as of late.

BLUSH + HIGHLIGHTER

My go-to blush is the Circus blush from Flower Knows. I originally bought it for the pretty box and didn't think I would enjoy the blueish shade but the texture is very fine and pink and blue mix well into a subtle rosy shade. I also have a natural blush from Alverde but it doesn't really suit my skin hue. The highlighter I used before is a shimmery golden color from Revolution but I honestly don't like shimmer on my face that much so I don't put it on for everyday makeup.

EYES

I use a Max Factor eyeshadow primer. I have 7 eyeshadow palettes. In order of use: Flower Knows Strawberry Rococo in nude, Lancôme Holidays 2023 limited edition (also includes a blush), Profusion cosmetics Neon palette, Pupa whale 2 (also includes a lip gloss palette), Catrice My Little Pony palette, Catrice Evil Queen palette & a tiny one from Alverde. I also have a singular blue Kiko eyeshadow, a green liquid eyeshadow from Catrice, a highlighting eyeshadow from Eveline & a creamy stick eyeshadow from Aura.

I prefer brown liquid liner over black, and almost exclusively use Essence's princess liner in brown. I also have a golden shimmery one and a pink one but I don't put those on much anymore. As for eye pencils, I have one in brown and one in white from Drogeriemarkt & a golden one from Pupa.

I don't like to put stuff on my eyebrows but my mom gave me one gel scultpant from Wet n Wild and it makes me look like poo.

Not particular about mascara, I rarely buy it for myself but I got Lash Idóle from Lancôme, Vice Versa 2 in 1 from Douglas and Lash Princess Volume from Essence. I like the falsies effect one but Id rather put in. actual falsies. On that topic, I still usually wear gyaru lashes that I got from some shady aliexpress shop. Works for me!

LIPS

I have 3 shades of Flower Knows little angel lip mud which I wear most often and layer Shiseido glimmer gelgloss in red on top of it. My second favorite is the heart center lipstick from Too Faced. I also just got 2 limited edition lipsticks from Lancôme, one in shiny red and one in matte peach. Pupa Whale 2 also has a few great colors! Urban Decay black matte lipstick is one I like but don't put on unless I'm doing a specific look. When I was a gyaru I wore a matte nude lipstick from Aura but it's now half retired since I prefer vibrancy. Honorable mentions to Revolution matte bomb liquid lipstick, Maybelline lifter gloss, Essence cool collagen plumping lipstick, Essence color changing lip glow and Essence heart shaped lip balm.

PERFUME

I'm ashamed to say I don't really have any perfumes from big names I like (I dream of Kenzo) but it's just scented water so idc. I have Lancôme La vie est belle, Juicy Couture Viva la juicy, Cool Cotton from Clean, Tuberose from Zara, Cherry and Pistacchio from Ulric de Varens and some little perfume called Green tea whose brand I don't know.

#diary

[kiasnocturnality]

✧･ﾟ TARUQU'INEL

SPECIES: Faerie (blue dasher dragonfly)

SEX: Male

HAIR COLOUR: White

EYE COLOUR: Brown (one has a little blue patch)

HEIGHT: 6’5

MBTI: ENFJ

BIRTHDAY: 12th November | 198

ABOUT: Taruqu’inel is the second child and firstborn son of his father Ninelhuinn. Being the firstborn male, tradition says that he has right to the title of heir before his elder half-sister and he has a large following in the Fae court that would wish to see him upon the throne instead of his sister. Unlike Va’ariniel, he has not had to work as hard to prove himself and so he is rather laid back about his claim to the throne, happy enough to pass the work of earning it onto his devoted advisors and allies. Once again unlike Va’ari, Taruqu’inel did not care about the throne’s succession at a young age as he was much too preoccupied with combat training, tuition and wondering why his sister would not love him. He did not understand why she treated him so coldly until he was older and learned what his birth had meant for Va’ari’s succession. It was then that he began to show interest in one day being King just to spite his sister for how she had made him feel throughout his childhood. It was only once it was too late and he had gathered a large following of supporters that Taru realised he did not want to be reigning monarch as much as his sister but he now feels that it is too late to back out and equal parts spite, pride and humiliation will not allow him to stop this pursuit now. 

Taru has umber skin, long white hair which he usually styles half-up-half-down, brown eyes (one of them has a little blue patch in it) and is visibly muscular from all his combat training. He has blue iridescent dragonfly wings and more pronounced areas of him (i.e. cheekbones, collarbones, etc) have a layer of scaled chitin with a blue iridescence to them. 

Taruqu’inel can be found wearing blue on any of his outfits and never wears the colour green. He wears long, layered and flowing robes in blues/whites/greys and occasionally black. 

As a lover, Taru is very openly affectionate. Court life can be stifling: his parents were distant (his father even moreso) and he had a sister who hated him simply for being born. He wants to give you all of the affection that he wished he had been given as a child. He’s always showing you with little gifts and seeking you out to cuddle with you and cover your face in kisses. He likes to just lay down and cuddle with you for hours and he’s composed some songs to play on the flute for you too! He has so many feelings that he’s always wanted to express and he finally can with you! He’s very quick to trust if you’re an openly affectionate person and give him an outlet for all these soft feelings. One of his favourite places to bring you is to a shallow pond by the river which has a small island in its centre, most of the pond shrouded by willow branches. He loves to sit on the island with you in his lap while the two of you watch the dragonflies, it gives him a break from all the hustle and bustle of court life. 

STRENGTHS: 

magic: Faeries are incredibly powerful magical beings

dimensional transportation:  Faeries can transport themselves and others to other dimensional planes. Mortals and fairies of lesser power require fixed portals to do so, but more powerful fairies may cross dimensions at will. Powerful fairies can banish people to other dimensions against their will, though less powerful faeries appear to require consent.

invisibility: They can only be seen if they want to be or by people who have travelled to their realm and returned. 

healing: Faeries have the ability to cure broken or withered plants; wounds, broken bones and low vitality.

photokinesis: Faeries have the ability to project and control light and nature. 

mesmerisation: Fairies can make humans do their bidding. The fairy only needs to have eye contact in order to seize your mind with a simple phrase or change in tone of voice.

chlorokinesis: Faeries can manipulate vegetation. Fairies can grow plants to enormous proportions in nearly any environment, and use them as weapons that can grab and attack with vines and roots, grow or retract thorns.

superhuman durability: Faeries can take far more trauma than humans can without much discomfort or injury.

flight: Winged faeries can fly.

glamour: Able to cast vivid and convincing illusions in order to trick others, as demonstrated with the illusion of the fae world, making it appear more appealing and beautiful. 

oneirokinesis: They are shown to be able to enter people's dreams and converse with that person when fairies both enter their slumber. 

immortality: Faeries are immortal beings.

oath: If a faerie’s oath is broken, great dishonour is brought upon the faerie and their clan and is thus considered an act of war. Faeries also make pacts signing the contract with their blood. This is called "blood on vellum." This is said to be the most sacred of contracts.

WEAKNESSES:

iron:  Iron is poisonous to the Fae and may kill them if there is too much in their system. Iron can be passed into a Fae's system by the slightest touch so most tend to avoid cold Iron with a vengeance.

names: names hold a lot of power in the fae realm and so true names are not passed around lightly. For a fae to surrender their name is to surrender all their power. 

AESTHETICS:

#✧･ﾟINTO THE FOREST #✩⋆ﾟTARUQU’INEL #faerie oc #fae oc #faerie oc x reader #fae oc x reader #fae x reader #faerie x reader #terato #terato x reader #monster oc #monster boyfriend #monster boyfriend x reader

[kaylapocalypse]

Hi Kayla! It's been a million years since we've spoken, so hello I hope yours years have been good since we last talked. I saw your post the other day about the beef fat and the lanolin you've been using for your skin and maybe this is a stupid question, but how exactly do you use it?

Hi! Im so happy to have found you again, thank you for reaching out. I’ve been trying to re-connect with everyone I was close to on here and I’m really glad we can start anew!

Okay lanolin and beef tallow:

TLDR: half a dime sized amount of both, mostly at night, mix in your hands and smear over the whole face.

Breakdown:

1. Both products are very emollient, but surprisingly not very heavy. Neither of them are comedogenic, and after 3 months of usage I’m willing to back that claim. I tried slugging before with a couple of different products but my skin was always like “hm. too much of this.” and started developing weird oily patches and acne around my mouth. With lanolin and tallow, not only has my skin not done that, but the texture has changed significantly for the better and I don’t wake up greasy anymore.  I also find that i have to exfoliate my skin LESS now, which was a crazy realization.

That said, you only need a little of each to cover your whole face and neck. Maybe about the size of an aspirin for the beef tallow and half that for the lanolin. Lanolin has the texture of bees wax and beef tallow is about as thick as Vaseline. 

2. While the products are “thick” they feel more like an expensive “dry oil” after you’ve rubbed it in. It doesn’t create a gross “layer” the way Vaseline does, but if you touch your face it will feel oily in a way that makes you want to rub it into your hands.  THAT SAID, this is not a combo that you can wear well under makeup.  The oils will break down the waxes in most lipsticks, concealers and foundations and they will all slide around your face after a while. Which is why I mostly use tallow and lanolin at night. 

During the daytime if i am not planning on leaving my house, I will mix a bit of tallow into my palm with a few drops of sunscreen and use that. But if I am, I just stick to sunscreen and makeup then tallow/lanolin at night.

3.Unlike a lot of skincare products, this isn’t a spot treatment sort of situation and the amount you use doesn’t matter so much as you use enough to cover the whole area of interest. 

I have also mixed other things into the tallow/lanolin mix in the palm of my hand, depending on what I want. 

I’ve done: vitamin C powder, Scar healing ointment and Niacimide. I find it works better when you’re using a serum to apply the serum first then seal with lanolin/tallow, but if its an oil or a powder, to just mix it together with the tallow and slather it on. 

I’ve found that most other products seem to work better with the moisture seal of tallow/lanolin than by themselves.  But I do have to say, I only use other products every once in a while because I have a specific hyperpigmentation scar issue I’m working on fading. I’m just giving this info because I want you to know that it doesn’t poorly interact with skincare products the way it breaks down makeup. 

If you’re interested:

There is a really cool homesteader that documents her refining of tallow that I like to follow:

If you have any more questions, let me know!

Also, just for convenience here is the link to where I bought stuff from: https://www.etsy.com/shop/TraditionalNutrients?ref=yr_purchases 

Specifically I ordered the skin cream first in a small size, then I decided to just go with their basic Tallow Spread, which is more bang for your buck and is also not whipped. The only difference I could tell between them is the skin cream is whipped like whipped butter and the other one is an unwhipped jar of tallow with Vaseline like texture. 

[spicykat9]

It's a me! Cause you told me to send this ask lol. So when you want could you please write some itager? Feel free to do what you want, all I ask is Feli is the dominant one lol

Ugh bottom/submissve Lud my beloved. I may have went a little overboard, but hey, what's the fun in omegaverse if there isn't a little bit of plot?

Rating: E

Pairing: ItaGer

Word Count: 2406

Author's Note: Really really mild dubious consent because the heat affects some of Ludwig's reasoning and Feli doesn't think they'd be doing this otherwise. But Ludwig has wanted this for awhile, long before he even knew he was an omega.

Read on AO3

Better Late than Never

With his tall stature, strong build, commanding presence, and desire to protect, everyone around Ludwig assumed he would be an alpha. But he never showed any signs of being either secondary gender, so by the time he physically grew to twenty years old, it was deemed that he was simply beta. 

Ludwig was quite content with that. Now he didn’t have to worry about pesky biology like heats and ruts getting in his way of work or the things he enjoyed. He could carry on with a peaceful life–or as peaceful of a life as one could have as a nation. But life never seemed to let Ludwig be peaceful. 

In the dead of night, Ludwig woke up with a scalding pain in his lower abdomen and drenched in sweat. It didn’t feel like indigestion or the flu, and it wasn’t like he strained the area recently. He didn’t want to get up, but he needed pain medication and maybe a cool cloth. But he'd give himself a few minutes and hopefully the worst of the pain would subside so he could get up.

When it didn't, Ludwig forced himself up and hobbled to the bathroom. He knocked over a few things as he scrambled for the bottle of Ibuprofen. He gulped it down with a glass of water and trudged back to bed. When he returned, Feliciano was sitting up in his bed. Right, he had snuck in again. Though at this point it wasn’t really sneaking in. Ludwig always left a window unlocked.

“Are you alright Luddy?” Feliciano asked, words running into each other in his half-asleep state. 

“Yeah…I don’t know. Dinner didn’t agree with me, or something, but I should be fine in the morning.”

Feliciano tilted his head. “Okay. Hey, do you smell something?”

Ludwig collapsed into bed, trying to get comfortable. “Huh?”

“Something…Sweet. Like something baking.”

Ludwig huffed, the pain wearing his patience thin. “Just sleep,” he barked.

“Fine. I’ll make sure to make a light breakfast tomorrow morning.”

Feliciano seemed to fall asleep quickly, his breath evening out. Ludwig wasn’t as lucky. But after two hours, the pain dulled, and he could finally embrace a restless sleep. 

- - -

Feliciano awoke with Ludwig cemented against his side, clinging to him. Though it wasn’t the first time they woke up tangled in each other’s limbs, something was off about this morning.

First off, Ludwig was panting and whining in his sleep. And not the kinds of whines and pants like he was in pain. Feliciano swallowed thickly.

Second, it was 9:00 AM. Ludwig rarely ever slept in past 8:00 unless something was really wrong. But he was ill the night before so surely that was why he was still asleep. Feliciano felt Ludwig’s forehead, finding it scalding. 

Third, and the most incriminating off-set, was the suffocating, caky scent that layered the room thickly. The same smell he had caught a whiff of the night before. Feliciano bolted up. How did he not realize this before? The scent, the flushed skin, the stomach pains. Ludwig had gone into heat. And not just any heat. His first heat. Feliciano needed to get out of there before–

Even as an alpha, Feliciano could never beat Ludwig when it came to physical strength, and Feliciano never before did he wish he was any different. But that supposed "alpha strength" would come in handy right about now.

He took in a deep breath and immediately regretted it, the pheromones burning his throat and blanketing his mind. No. If there was any time he had to focus, now was the time. Holding his breath, he attempted to wiggle out of the hold. It took a few minutes, but he was finally free, feet hitting the chilled wooden floor, grounding him. 

He thought he was in the clear, but in his escape, he had awoken Ludwig. He groaned, and on instinct, Feliciano turned around. Ludwig looked up at him, eyes hazy, completely disheveled, ready for the taking. Feliciano smacked his burning cheeks before his mind could wander anywhere else. He skittered to the door.

“Feliciano…” Ludwig rasped, thin lips slightly parted. God how the Italian wanted to kiss those lips (as well as put them to other uses).

“You’re not in your right mind Luddy,” Feliciano chuckled nervously, gripping the door knob. “Um…I’ll get you some water…And maybe I can find someplace to get toys and–”

“What’s happening to me?”

For a moment, Feliciano’s lungs cleared, and the strain in his pants became a distant throb. “You’re…You’re experiencing your first heat. And I need to get out of here before I do something to you I'll regret.”

“Oh…”

Feliciano smiled in spite of everything. What a thoroughly Ludwig-type reply. “I’ll be back with things to help soon–”

“Don’t go!”

He was so close. Just open the door and run. Far away. He was good at that. And it was for the best. No one got hurt that way. But his feet refused to move. 

“Ludwig I…I won’t be able to control myself I–”

Ludwig took a deep breath. “I…I know enough of how this all works. You can help me. I-I need you to help me. Please…Please fu–take care of me.”

Something snapped, and the next thing Feliciano knew, he was straddling Ludwig, pushing him down on the bed. It wasn’t Ludwig below him. It was an omega. An unmated omega in heat. And as any good alpha, it was Feliciano’s duty to fu–

“Luddy…” Feliciano swallowed, coming back to himself despite the dizzying smell. 

“Please…I’m hot, and everything aches, and…I need…I need…I don’t know. I read manuals about this but–”

“Shhh…I’ll take care of you. J-Just relax and be a good omega for me.”

Run. Run. You need to run. You’ll ruin everything. Just RUN.

Reason was screaming at him, but when he was this close, lips centimeters from Ludwig’s, its voice became muffled and desire took over. Hungrily, he claimed Ludwig’s lips, thrusting his tongue in forcefully, claiming Ludwig’s mouth. 

Ludwig moaned into the kiss, arms wrapping around Feliciano’s neck, pulling him close. 

Feliciano felt like he was being torn in two. As much as he wanted to relish in the fact he had Ludwig where he had always wanted him, and as much as his rut was encouraging him, he wouldn’t let himself enjoy it. He had to stay focused and…

God Ludwig smelled good. When Feliciano pulled away, he couldn’t help but sniff along Ludwig’s neck. Ludwig smelled of cinnamon and apples, like a pie or even kuchen. Feliciano wondered if he tasted just as sweet. 

With one last quick peck, Feliciano moved down to Ludwig’s boxers. He ripped off the article of clothing, unable to hold back anymore. Slick leaked down Ludwig’s thighs, glistening in the early morning light. Who would have thought the strong, stern, tough German nation was an omega all this time? Especially such a cute, needy looking one. 

His instincts may have been in the driver’s seat currently, but he had enough of a mind to stretch Ludwig nicely. Couldn’t have him tearing now. He eased in two fingers. Despite this being their first time, Ludwig took him easily. Biology sometimes had its perks. Slowly, Feliciano began to thrust and curl his fingers.

Ludwig gasped, gripping the sheets. He sucked Feliciano’s fingers in, wordlessly begging for more. 

“Oh don’t be like that Luddy. I want to hear you, I want to see you. Now be a good boy and look at me.” Feliciano never thought he was capable of growling like he did those last words. 

And Ludwig obeyed. Looking up with shining blue eyes, pupils blown wide, giving him timid bedroom eyes. Feliciano couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled out his fingers and slicked up his cock with the natural lube his partner was secreting. Again, sometimes biology could be convenient. He pressed in without any hesitation. 

Ludwig arched his back, letting out a strangled cry at the intrusion. It immediately pulled Feliciano back into himself. 

“Mio Dio! Ludwig? Ludwig, are you alright? I-I’m sorry I–”

“Move,” Ludwig gritted out, “Bitte… Move .”

“Okay…” Feliciano took in a breath. “Okay. Just tell me if I hurt you.”

This will make him feel better. You’re helping him. It will be okay.

Feliciano rolled his hips in an experimental thrust, ears perked to Ludwig’s reaction. Ludwig moaned softly, eyes fluttering closed, muscles clenching around Feliciano’s cock. Feliciano couldn’t help but groan. 

Without a second thought, he pounded into Ludwig at incredible speed. He couldn’t remember ever moving that fast in his life. Not even during retreat. But pleasing Ludwig was more important than any war duty. 

All Ludwig could do was gasp and moan, the sounds becoming louder with each thrust. Feliciano smirked. The straightlaced, no-nonsense German was coming undone so easily and it was all because of him. The thought went straight to his groin. 

“Yes…” Ludwig panted, “Yes, yes, yes. Faster…F-Faster.”

Feliciano didn’t know if he could go any faster, but for such a sweet omega, he would try. He snapped his hips, gripping Ludwig’s to keep him balanced. If they happened to get bruised in the process, that was just a bonus. Ludwig let out a cry of both pain and pleasure.

Feliciano leaned down, nuzzling Ludwig’s neck, tempted to sink his teeth into the skin. Despite the dizzying smell messing with his mind, he still had enough of himself to shake that idea out of his head. He already went too far. He couldn’t mate Ludwig like this. His lips instead trailed down Ludwig’s collarbone to his chest, leaving open-mouth kisses along the way. Ludwig shivered. 

Feliciano grinned against the flushed flesh. When he reached Ludwig’s chest took one of the nipples into his mouth, sucking gently. 

“Ah~” Ludwig moaned breathily, “Feli Ich…”

“Awww. Are you close? Do you want to come?”

Ludwig nodded. 

“Oh caro,” Feliciano purred, backing up. He pulled out to really make Ludwig desperate. “Use your words. What do you want?”

“Bitte...bitte lass mich abspritzen.”

“Good. Good boy.” Feliciano thrusted in right to the hilt, filling Ludwig up completely. For good measure, he twisted Ludwig’s nipples. Ludwig arched and with a choked moan he came and came and came. Feliciano didn’t know it was possible for someone to come that much.

Heat pooled in his lower abdomen at the sight of Ludwig’s pinched face, mouth hanging open, tears in his lashes. He could already feel his knot expanding.

“Feli what’s…ah!”

“I-I’m sorry I can’t help it. B-B-But don’t worry. It’s just my knot. Everything is okay.”

“Oh…right.” Ludwig looked away red-faced, laying back on the bed as he was filled to the brim. He winced every now and then, but otherwise, he seemed to be getting comfortable.

“It’s…It’s not too painful is it?” Feliciano asked softly. The dizziness and fog were going away. Ludwig’s pheromones must have been depleting thanks to the orgasm. Perhaps now he could properly care for Ludwig in this state. 

“No. Just…weird. But my cramps and thirst are gone.”

“Good…”

Feliciano shifted his weight, so he was laying on top of Ludwig. Knots could take a while sometimes, and considering how worked up he got, there was a good chance this was going to be one of those longer times. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Ludwig and instead rested his head on Ludwig’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. 

“This might take a while,” Feliciano warned.

“That’s okay. It would probably be sore to move anyway.”

Ludwig sounded so calm despite being in the middle of his first heat which he didn’t prepare for, and getting his brains fucked out by his best friend. Feliciano wasn’t holding up as well. He enjoyed it, and he was disgusted by that. 

Feliciano felt sick to his stomach. If he wasn’t literally attached to Ludwig he would have locked himself in the bathroom, perhaps gotten sick, and scrubbed himself until he finally felt clean. 

Ludwig burrowed his nose into Feliciano’s neck. “Thank you…” he whispered.

“Don’t.”

“I know this isn’t the end, but I feel a lot better now. So you deserve gratitude.”

Feliciano squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cry. “I couldn’t control myself.”

“You had enough control to make sure I was alright.”

“But not enough to not fuck you without consent.”

“I was practically begging,” Ludwig scoffed.

“For all we know, it was just your heat.”

“I’m telling you it was not. At least not completely.”

“Ludwig you’re in such a vulnerable state right now. You’re still in your heat period. Your  first  heat. Which tends to be the worst and the strongest. You’re not in your right–”

Ludwig flipped them around, pinning Feliciano to the bed. His eyes were cold and alert like Feliciano always knew them to be. “Don’t you  dare  question my mental state. I may be an omega in heat, but I’m not helpless and I’m not some…thing…that can’t make choices. I’m relieved you helped me. I wanted you to help me. And if you’re willing, I still want you to help me. I couldn’t dream of doing this with anyone else.”

Feliciano lay slacked jawed, words jamming in his throat before a phrase finally pushed through. “Is this your idea of a confession?”

Blush blotched Ludwig’s cheeks all the way to his chest. “Maybe…”

Despite the last few threads of lingering guilt, Feliciano burst out laughing. What a way for the universe to get tired of their bullshit and shove them together. “We’ll talk about it more after your heat,” Feliciano concluded, “But I will help you in the meantime. After we’re…um…freed I guess? And we’ll have something to eat and drink before your symptoms return. Okay?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ludwig mumbled, eyes drooping.

Feliciano smiled softly and flipped them back around, so Ludwig was laying down again. “Are you already tired?”

“A little…”

“Well, while I’m out getting everything we’ll need, you can rest. Hopefully, it will be a little while before we have to start up again.” 

Ludwig hummed, his hold on Feliciano becoming weaker.

By the time Feliciano could dislodge, Ludwig was fast asleep. With a kiss on his forehead, Feliciano set off to get breakfast, water, and suppressants. He'd need them if he was going to get through these next few days. 

#hetalia #hws germany #hws italy #itager #gerita #omega germany #alpha italy #omegaverse #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #my writing

[illianes]

the right things

(inspired by @annettoee beautiful art, specifically her cottage core au)

There’s a tremendous sense of rightness in laying here in Porco’s arms.

ao3

"I have a surprise for you," Pieck tells him, drumming her fingers on his chest. 

Porco opens an eye to peek down at her. "What?"

Pieck sits up and pinches his arm. "It won't be a surprise if I tell you," she says trying to untangle herself from the sheets, but being in her titan form for so long has left her fine motor skills weakened by their lack of use. 

Porco lifts one of her legs up, pulls at sheets and suddenly Pieck is left bare and shivering lightly.

"Now you're cold," he sighs already seeing the goosebumps rising on her skin. "Can't we just stay here?"

But Pieck is relentless. "No," she says sternly, looking for her clothes. "Pock, come on."

Porco could say no, would have said no if it were anyone else. But this Pieck. Pieck's who's been in her titan form for two months, Pieck who's eyes sparkle with excitement at her surprise, who's scrambling around the room half naked searching for her blouse. He sits up, pulls her blouse from underneath the sheets and throws it at her. 

She pouts as she puts it on. "It's wrinkled." 

Pieck leans against him as they make their way out of the room, leading them to where the surprise awaits. Down the stairs, through the back door of their make-shift accomodation in a half bombed house and out into the back yard. There's really not much left of it except a lot of mud and some lost chickens running around panicked. And a horse. 

"Do you like it?" Pieck beams. 

Porco raises an eyebrow. "Do I like what exactly?"

Pieck huffs and huddles towards the horse. "Your surprise!" She says matter of factly, lightly stroking the horse's back. 

"What am I supposed to do with a horse?" 

Pieck's always had the most peculiar mind of them all and sometimes Porco still struggles with understanding her thoughts.

"Take me for a ride."

The expectant hopeful look she gives him, proves that she's being serious. She's already trying to put the saddle on the docile animal. Porco is flabbergasted, his muscles move on their own accord and she claps in anticipation as he readies the horse.

"Don't go too far," comes a sudden voice as Porco helps Pieck up. Magath, who's been watching them from the shadows, steps into the light to give them a stern look. He's known for a long time, watched over them, reprimanded them when they forgot their place, looked away when they searched for comfort in each others arms and always, always had their back.  

Porco salutes and hops on the horse, spurring it on. 

Pieck's hair tickles his nose but she's giggling and leaning back against him while he guides the horse to the outskirts of the city. 

"Don't stop," Pieck tells him when he hesitates because there are no more houses past where they're now standing. 

"Pieck," he reproves gently, kissing the top of her head. 

Pieck lets her head fall back onto his shoulder turning slightly so she can place a kiss on his jaw. "Please."

Porco gives in, as he always does.

They ride until the ruins of Fort Slava disappear behind them, to a place where war has not touched the land but where people still left everything behind fearing the wrath of Marley.

Pieck tells him to stop when they're in front of an abandoned, dilapidated farmhouse. It's small and nature has grown over as if retaking what once was taken. 

Porco helps her get down, wraps his arm around her waist because in this godforsaken place there is no one who can see them. They walk up the three stairs onto the porch and Pieck reaches for the doorhandle. Porco bats her hand away. 

"What if someone's home?" He asks, his soldier instincts taking over as he scans the area.

Pieck laughs and pushes the door open. "There's no one here, Pock. Come on!"

Inside it seems like times stopped. The owners departed in a hurry, leaving behind a place of confusion and disorder, now covered in a thick layer of dust that swirls with their every movement. The wooden floor creaks under their weight. But Pieck doesn't seem to care much, wandering around clumsily. 

As she makes her way up the wooden stairs, the railing makes a grating sound before it warps and Pieck loses her balance. Porco's just a step behind her, places his hands on her hips to steady her and helps her up the stairs. 

There they find two bedrooms, one with a queen sized bed and the other with two twin beds. Porco images that a nice family must have lived here. A caring mother cooking dinner with her daughter, a father tending to the cattle with his son; they probably ate family dinners together, maybe even played some games before bedtime. 

"Porco," Pieck calls from the master bedroom, bringing him back to reality and he walks over to find her half hidden in the closet. 

"What are you doing?" Porco asks watching her curiously. It feels like a sacrilege, the way she touches these things that appear suspended in time.

She throws something at him and he catches it before it makes contact with his face holding it up for inspection, a white shirt. 

"Put it on," Pieck says, still rummaging through the closet. 

Porco throws the shirt on the bed and pushes his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "The hell I will," he huffs. 

Pieck straightens up and hobbles towards him, grabbing the shirt. "Pock, come on."

She knows he can't resist her and she's always played her cards right. She's already pushing his jacket off his shoulders, pulling his tshirt over his head and pulling him down to smack their lips together. He gives in, grunting. 

She returns to the closet, still searching for something unknown. Porco fidgets, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

"Ah," she says victoriously after a while, producing what seems like a white dress. She holds it against her body and nods even though he can clearly see that it's too long for her. 

She shimmies out of her uniform and slips the dress over her head, holds it up over her chest with her arm and turns her back to him. 

"Do you mind?" She asks, looking over her shoulder.   

Porco stands there dumbstruck for a few seconds before he takes the two steps to her. He pushes her black waves out of the way, pulls the zipper up and Pieck swirls around and into his arms. 

The dress is shoulderless, a little too wide and definitely too long. There’s some kind of flowers embroidered in the fabric but Porco doesn’t understand much about such things except that it looks pretty. The pale translucent skin of her shoulders, the purplish veins, her unruly hair contrast against the white dress and she's terribly beautiful. So much so that he has to look away, a lump forming in his throat. His chest feels like he’s swallowed a sun that's waiting to explode and he has to take two long and deep breathes before he can look at her.

Pieck is looking up at him intently, questioningly with her lips slightly parted.

"Do you like it?" She asks, a dust of pink appearing on her cheeks. 

Porco buries his face in the crook of her neck and chuckles. "Do I like it?" 

Pieck giggles and wraps her arms around his neck as he straightens up. "Yes?"

Porco rests his forehead on hers and smiles. "Why do you do this to me, Pieck?" He asks gazing into her eyes. 

In return Pieck kisses him soft and slow before she whirls out of his embrace, the white dress flowing around her. Porco wants to tell her to be careful, the dress is too long and her feet are too clumsy but she's humming to herself, so instead he gathers their clothes and follows her. His throat is tight and his insides are burning.

"Shall we sleep here tonight?" She inquires sweetly batting her eyelashes at him. 

Porco scoffs because even though he loves Pieck this, this is too much. "I'll be damned if I sleep in this haunted house."

Pieck laughs. "There's a barn outside," she then says pointing out the window. 

"A barn?"

Pieck shrugs, grinning. "You don't want the bed." 

"We shouldn't even be here, Pieck," Porco sighs, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. "We should be heading back."

The glimmer in Pieck's eyes fades and her head drops. She knows they should head back, she's known since they left but just for a moment she wants the world to stop. Wants them to just be Pieck and Porco, a boy and a girl, in love.

Porco kisses her temple, like he always does when he knows that she’s upset and her heart aches. 

"Okay," she says finally, turning around, gathering her hair and bringing it over to one side, motioning to the zipper.

Porco's finger feather over her shoulder blades, the barely visible vertebrae before he leans down and places a kiss on the dip in her shoulder joint. Pieck shivers lightly, her breath catching in her throat. 

Porco swears under his breath and swoops her up, one arm under her knees, the other around her middle and Pieck gasps at the unexpected motion. 

"What are you doing?" She asks warily. The dress has slipped past her knees, gathering around her hips and Porco’s grip on her thigh is firm, almost painful.  

"Shut up," Porco grumbles lowly making his way downstairs, out the back door and into the garden. 

Pieck squeaks when she realizes where they're headed to. She squirms, slings her arms around his neck and peppers kisses all over his face. 

Porco kicks the door to the barn open, dry grass crunching under his booth as he walks in. Warm light seeps in through the cracked wood panels and transforms the space into an almost etherial space. As he lays her down in the warm hay Pieck looks nearly surreal and he leans down to stroke her cheek, make sure that she's not just a product of his imagination.

Pieck kisses him hard and hungry, grasping at his shirt, running her hands through his hair and Porco thinks about the family that once lived here, the life they must have lived and imagines that in another world, in a different time Pieck and him might have lived like this as well.

Porco makes love to her so gently that Pieck cries. He kisses the tears away, whispers her name, tells her how much he loves her, how beautiful she is, gives and gives and gives until it’s so much that it erupts into a thousand little sparkling stars. There is so much of him everywhere that Pieck can’t remember how she even exists without him. She says his name, over and over again, desperate and begging and Porco hushes her with languid, sweet kisses. There’s a tremendous sense of rightness in laying here in Porco’s arms. Every choice she's ever made has lead her to this moment; Porco's warmth, his heartbeat steady under her ear, their bodies pressed tightly against each other. And amongst all the destruction, the violent contention and the persistent scrutiny of their people, it's in moments like these that Pieck finds a meaning to life. Because when Porco gazes into her eyes and tells her that he loves her, a sea of endless possibilities floats around in his hazel eyes. Pieck, dazed and in love with her fearless and impatient warrior, believes it all. 

”I said not too far, Galliard,” Magath reprimands when they get back and Pieck laughs because it’s always him who gets scolded and not her.

Porco wants to be angry but Pieck is laughing and he can't help but smile instead, leaning down to kiss her one last time before they have to back to being warriors.

#gallipieck #pieck x porco #pokopiku #porco galliard #pieck finger #attack on titan #pieck #porco #pokkopiku

[benjaminthewolf]

A Little Extra Protein (Vore Story)

Idk what it is with unaware vore, but it will always have a special place in my heart.

...

(Okay no now that I’m thinking about it, its probably because of The Magic School Bus. If you know, you know.)

And uh, yeah, the pred has a weird name. If you want to know why he’s called “Jimes”, its because he’s a fanchild (who’s grown up now don’t worry) of two characters named Jim and James. ****

     A part of you had already known implicitly that trying to hide from the rain in this house was a bad idea. Staring silent and disheartened at the tightly locked window that you had once used to make it into this place, a strong, solemn sigh rises and falls in your chest, before you take a few steps in the opposite direction, and attempt to get an assessment of the current situation.

     Two people who were most likely the owners of the house were sitting side by side on the couch, backs arched forwards and eyes glued fervently to the screen as their hands clickety clacked away along with the two seemingly professional-level gaming controllers in their hands.

     Both people were of a humanoid species, all of whom possessed  jet black hair and skin the color white. These two in particular possessed large, yellow, feathered wings, which rose and fell in accordance with their shoulders as their arms swung and swayed along with the movements of the digits on the hands, lightly locked on their goal of sending their competitor to hell.

     The one on the right of the couch wore a yellow fedora-like hat along with a light blue sweater with black sleeves and a white sun symbol in the middle, as well as light blue eyes. The one on the right wore a hat of a much different kind. The top of it had almost a dome-like shape and sat just above his hair, the soft, fuzzy material making the thing up extending out to over his ears before long, ovular strips of the material went downto about the man’s neck area on both sides. It was red with a yellow stripe going along the rim. He also wore a red and yellow sweater and had a left yellow eye and a right red eye.

     Regardless of all that, you knew that you had to find another way out, and considering that there appeared to be no viable exits in this room, that meant you had to make it to the next one over and go from there. Judging from how glued to their game these two were, that didn’t seem like it was gonna be too hard.

     You actually weren’t too far away from the couch these two were sitting on, the window in question being on the wall to their left. Hoping down from the windowsill and onto the wooden desk below without making much noise, you begin to judge the distance between the end of the table and the arm of the couch, eventually concluding that it was a close enough jump for you to be able to make.

     Tightening up your muscles as you ready your body to sprint, you can feel your tiny form pushing against all the layers of air before it as you at last leap off the table. Sticking a half-decent landing in the middle of the couch arm, you are forced to take a few seconds to readjust before giving your body a shake and picking yourself up.

     Now that you were able to actually see what was on the TV, you nodded silently as you observed that these two were playing Smash Bros Ultimate. Due to how competitive they seemed to be, both of them were yet to notice your presence. 

     Both players were on their final stocks of the game, and at rather low percentages, meaning it was still anyone’s game. The man with the yellow fedora was playing Falco, and the man with the yellow and red hoodie was playing Donkey Kong, specifically the one with the pink fur.

     As the Donkey Kong on the screen barely managed to dodge a Falco down air and grab the ledge, you began to sneak along the top of the couch’s back frame, taking your precious time while doing so in order to ensure you weren’t seen. Finally, you had made it to the other side, and at this point, you could have just made your way over to the side table, slid down one of the legs, and got the heck out of doge, but unfortunately for you, something on said side table had grabbed your attention. And the second it had a hold, it refused to let go.

     “PIZZA!” you call out in your head as you make a mad dash for the thing.

     You genuinely couldn’t remember the last time you had pizza that wasn’t thrown out scraps of crust you had found in humans’ garbage cans, and considering how preoccupied these two much larger humanoids were, you basically felt no zero hesitation or worry at all flowing through your being as you literally leap onto the middle of a slice, and start tearing off chunks of cheese and sauce with your hands, shoving them straight into your mouth and down your throat as you pleased, now all but deaf and blind to the rest of the world around you. For, at the moment, none of it mattered. All that did matter was the pizza, and you were gonna get that pizza onto your taste buds no matter what the consequences. 

     Unfortunately for you, however, this did mean completely missing the fact that the Smash game had finished, and as the announcer called out: “Donkey Kong Wins!”, the man with the red and yellow hoodie merley crossed his arms in smugness, while glaring his rather irritated buddy straight in the eyes.

     “What’s that about DK being bottom tier, again?” he snarkily remarked with a wink.

     The man in the blue hoodie only rolled his eyes. “Yeah keep telling yourself that, Jimes. But the instant you step into a tourney-”

     “Everything’s possible at locals, Lax!” Jimes swiftly cut him off.

     Lax rolled his eyes playfully as Jimes reached over for a slice of pizza while maintaining eye contact with his friend. You, due to just how laser-focused you were on chowing that good stuff down, however,  had absolutely zero clue that the pizza slice you were on was even lifted up. And unfortunately for you, due to this one simple fact, the window of opportunity that you could have used to escape, was now long gone.

     Jimes shoves the slice a good, long, way into his mouth, before proceeding to bite down. The resulting echo rang all across the chamber with a deafening, overbearing crunch. It was right then and there, right then and there in that one fateful moment, that your body and mind were simultaneously, cruelly, yet, of course, inevitably, snapped back to reality.

     Your pupils dilate as your muscles loosen up. The amorphous, sticky globs of cheese and sauce you had previously scooped up with your hands began to leisurely trail along with the force of gravity, before casually splatting down onto the slic below with a slimy plop. 

     As Jimes began to break the part of the pizza in his maw off from the rest of the slice, he rather swiftly sets the remainder of the thing back on his plate, before wiping the grease of his hands, and taking hold of his controller once more, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward considerably as he readied himself for the next game.

     You, meanwhile, were still completely and utterly unable to move. Your blood had run cold, and your bones were stiff and creaky. Eventually, however, the circumstances would prove to force your hand. Getting aggressively flung off the middle of the slice as the tongue slipped around and the jaws came rising up, you splatter down onto the back of the wet, slimy muscle just as the teeth came crashing down onto the already wetted piece of pizza at the front, tearing it apart and grinding it down into a mushy, saliva-soaked paste. Swiftly flinging that part of the pizza towards the back of his bright yellow maw, splattering it all across your form in the process, Jimes moves on and rips off another bit as you begin whipping the pizza mush off your face and body in absolutely nothing but pure, undistilled  disgust. 

     The back of the tongue raises up and forces you in towards the middle of the chamber as it flails itself around and bounces your form up and down with its movement. The great yellow muscles swishes you from cheek to cheek as more and more pizza was chewed up by the teeth and thoroughly doused with saliva. Slathering its gigantic, squishy form onto your being, the tongue caresses your body with one swift lick, cleaning off most of the pizza slop but positively smothering you in saliva. 

     Then at last, the smooth, slick muscle launches you and most of the pizza back towards his gullet, shuffling the massive wad of food towards the entrance of his throat. Before you were even able to scramble back onto your feet, Jimes swallowed, shoving you down into his esophagus in one, single gulp, and completely sealing your fate as such.

     The pasty, doughy goop of the pizza constantly squeezed and squished upon your being as the bright yellow throat muscles rhythmically shoved you down towards your destination. You attempted in vain to struggle, but because the squelching, slick tube was so tight, you were barely even able to muster a meaningful shove as Jimes’ heartbeat at last became audible. Shuddering with realization as your eyes widened in horror, you suddenly are able to pick up the sound of another swallow coming from above. You reasoned that it must’ve been another piece of pizza.

     At last, once the lower esophageal sphincter became visible, the ambient gurgles resonating from Jimes’ stomach began echoing around in your ears as both you and the pizza mush was allowed to exit the throat, and enter the stomach chamber as such.

     Splashing deep down into the churning, mush filled pool below, you rather quickly resurface before almost immediately shoving yourself up against the walls. Your breathing grows ragged as the walls shift and churn around your meager form. A sudden mass of even more pizza is squeezed through the squishy valve above, before plunging into the swirling liquids inside, swiftly getting mushed and broken apart even further as you finally begin to realize just what this might mean for you.

     As the seconds ticked by, more and more pizza continued to fall down from the esophagus, each consecutive piece causing the stomach to growl, groan, and slosh up its contents even more as a result. The walls squeezed and retracted, causing the swishing, swirling liquids around you to splash up onto your being, getting you somehow even more soaked than you already were. Leaning in further into the cushiony, flexible walls, your heart rate begins to rapidly pick up as you wince and close your eyes.

     “FALCO WINS!” someone somewhere called from the outside. But that didn’t matter to you. It really just did not. Only able to focus on the consistent white noise inside the organ as well as the irregular movements of the walls, your body instinctively gasps. A single tear rolls down your face as you only sink further into the walls. You didn’t know if or when you were ever to wake up again, but at the very least, whatever the case may be, these walls were soft enough to snuggle against.

     Closing your eyes for what might just be the very last time in your life, Jimes on the outside only gives his good friend Lax a friendly fist bump in congrats, before taking in a breath to speak.

     “Best of three?” he calmly, yet firmly suggested.

     Lax narrowed his eyes, taking a second to pause before finally taking in a breath. “Best of three.” he replied, before holding out his hand for a shake.

     Once the two friends’ agreement was sealed, Lax picked back up his controller. 

     “STOCK BATTLE!” the announcer cried out as both men leaned forwards in their seats.

     “May the best player win.” Jimes stated in a solid, respectful tone while moving his cursor towards D.K.

     Lax nodded in silent agreement. The two lifetime friends thus turned their attention to the screen as both their characters’ entrance animations at last began to play.

     “THREE, TWO, ONE, GO!” the announcer excitedly hollered. 

     Jimes narrowed his eyes. “We got this, D.K.” Jimes murmured to himself while charging up a punch. “We got this.”

#soft vore #safe vore #vore story #vore stories #vore writing #male pred #male predador #male vore #pov vore #unaware pred #unaware vore #v.ore #v/ore #v0r3 #vor3 #v0re #gt vore #g/t vore #foodplay

[roegadynroost]

FFXIVwrite 2023 - 03 Familiarity

The muggy climes of summer were finally giving way to cooler autumn air, but has always Gridania stayed green and verdant despite the shifting seasons. This early in the morning, before the sun peeked over the great boughs of the Shroud, the chill was enough to make anyone want to retreat back inside and return to the warmth of their waiting beds.

Alas, All Saints' Wake was less than half a moon away and it would be a busy time for the botanists' guild, thus it was that instead of doing her usual tasks for the day Crystal Ash was finishing up a bit of meditation early this morning. She was dressed in a ratty old dalmatica and a pair of her most worn tights, layered so that she would be warm enough to deal with the morning, but in nothing so cumbersome that she could not shed it when the sun rose into the sky.

Stillglade Fane was only a short walk from the Greatloam Growery, and with a warm smile on her face, she made her way to answer the call for help with the harvest. Crystal was far from the only early riser, there were already half a dozen others doing their best to make quick work of the waiting plants. Gourds of all color and shape, including her favorites, pumpkins. Currants, acorns and all manner of delicious treats waiting to be picked. 

Fufucha, the guild master was one of the early risers, already in the field doling out instructions and helping to pick the product. Crystal got out her heavy gathering gloves and waited her turn for the Lalafellin woman's attention.

"G'morning Ma'am! I'm hear to help! What did you want me on?" Crystal interjected when she saw her chance.

Fufucha's wide pretty eyes looked up from the squash she was examining, a bright smile finding her lips as she recognized the rabbit-earred girl. "Oh Crystal! I'm so glad you're here." Fufucha exclaimed, stepping past the plot to greet her. "I know you're busy with your other guilds so I'm happy you could still spare us some time."

"Of course, I wouldn't miss autumn harvest for anything." Crystal nodded, returning the smile before adding. "And I won't lie, I was hoping to get first pick of the pumpkins, there is one I have been eyeing every time I come with the fertilizer."

Fufucha chuckled, but left it at that before assigning Crystal her area, unsurprisingly the pumpkins. 

Crystal loved getting to harvest the gourds, she loved their different hues, she loved the delicate curl of their vines and she above all else loved their flavour. She could spend the whole day tending them, and she did so very often. It was past noon before she realized the time, and only then did she notice because Fufucha scolded her for not stopping for lunch like everyone else.

By now a dozen more had joined in and the harvesting was in full swing. Crystal stretched and shed her gloves. She tucked them in at her waist where she had tied her top by its sleeves, her eyes slowly scanning the field as she made her way back up to the hovel. There were all sorts helping today, Elezen, Lalafell, Hyur, Miqo'te, even a couple other Roegadyn to her surprise. She was all the more astonished when coming down the way from the hut she spied a pair of rabbits ears in the crowd atop the head of a young man. 

Crystal blinked, her footfalls stopping altogether. She was not in the slightest worried about how it would look as she was all but ogling this stranger. She simply could not believe her eyes. At a quick glance he might have been mistaken for a Miqo'te if not for the lack of a tail, but when one really took the time to take in his visage there was no mistaking the tall elegant ears spouting from his crown.

The man himself was much shorter than Crystal, by a head or so from what she could tell from her spot. His pale skin was kissed by Nophica, freckles dotting the bridge of his nose. His hair covered one eye, and she could not see the color of it. The other eye was a brilliant amber, and his hair itself was a vibrant auburn, nearly the same familiar color that she saw whenever she looked into a mirror. 

Crystal would have kept gawking if not for the strangers eyes meeting her own and snapping her from her stupor. She quickly closed her mouth. Had she had it open? She must have looked incredibly strange there, and surely he would say something about her curious staring. She readied herself but the awkward confrontation.

"Oh hey, you're here for the harvest too?" His chipper and familiar tone was so unexpected that Crystal almost looked around to see if he was talking to someone else, but as he came closer staring up into her bewildered face she knew he addressing her. 

"Ah, yes. Yes I am." Crystal replied, brows nit in confusion as she wracked her brain to figure out if she'd spoken with him before. She had not. There was no way that she would have met him and not remembered. If the look on her face bothered him, he didn't show it. His handsome face was bright and excited, the suns rays causing him to shimmer in the days light. He looked so genuinely excited to see her she couldn't help but keep up the facade of familiarity. "Are you enjoying harvest?"

He quickly nodded, a small hum in confirmation his reply before he spoke. "Yes, I am. Though it's much harder work than I expect. It's great to have so many in the guild around at the same time. I'm learning a lot in a short amount of time."

Crystal couldn't help but smile and nod back. She wanted badly to know more about this stranger and was about to form a reply when a shout from behind her interrupted and she looked over to the source.

"Honeyrust I could use your help over here!" It was Sandre, struggling to get a particularly large gourd into a wagon.

"I'm coming boss!" Honeyrust shouted back in alarm, moving forward to close the distance before stopping to give Crystal his attention once more. "Sorry, I gotta get back to work! We'll catch up later yeah?"

"Yeah, of course. Talk to you later Honeyrust." Crystal smiled down gently, the test of his name on her tongue came out in a very amused tone, as if she knew a secret he did not. If he noticed it he did not speak on it, he was already on the move again.

"See you later Thyn'a!" He called over his shoulder, jogging away to where he was called.

Authors note: I wasn't going to do the extra credit days, but seeing as the 24 hour deadline is not in effect yet and I had a spark, I figured I should take advantage of it!!

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy #roegadyn #femroe #roegadame #ff14 #bunny ears #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #Crystal Ash #Thyna #Thyn'a #Honeyrust #friends #Thyn'a Sindyrl #Thyna Sindyrl