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tacagen · 10 months

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Healthy Eobarry AU

(yes its just called that. no there is no actual romance, the word eobarry is here only so i dont have to write 'barry and eobard' all the time im talking about them. some things are very close to that tho but thats just the way it always is with thawne.)

the core idea: eobard is still a flash fan from the 25th century with a huge crush but he never wanted to be a hero like barry. he always wanted to go back in time and become flash's archnemesis instead, so there is no rejection abandonment and disappointment drama at all. not a single trace of canon hatred, thawne just wants to have some good time with his favorite hero in a weird way. barry, on the other hand, has no idea what the fuck is even going on. the vibe is most reminiscent of silver age eobarry. their dynamic:

ALSO their dynamic: this jla short

the lore:

they first meet in 21st century. eobard just finds barry, comes up to him like 'omg hi flash!! im your fan from the future and i just synthesized myself the speedforce connection to go back in time and meet you irl :)', waits exactly until barry believes and starts marveling at that fact, goes 'BUT THERE'S ALSO THIS LITTLE THING YOU SHOULD KNOW :)))) youre probably wondering why these colors. well, i call myself the reverse-flash and actually im here to cause problems for you on purpose. NOW CATCH ME IF YOU CAN :D', runs off to break the brakes of a bus carrying children or something like that while barry stands for a few seconds like 'huh. reverse? where are you going?'

right after barry, utterly confused and shocked, averts the situation thawne caused, he goes 'WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL WAS THAT?? DIDNT YOU JUST SAY YOU WERE MY FAN??' which thawne answers with 'wow. you really thought i was one of these boring "my favourite person of all time inspired me to become a hero like them" rip-offs with no imagination, didnt you? tsk tsk, i am so disappointed'

secrecy of their identities to each other isnt a thing since the very first fight. 'by the way, my name is eobard thawne! and i know you're barry allen, i actually know most of the 21st century heroes' identities but i promise you can trust me with that!'. indeed, he doesnt reveal this to anyone or threaten to do so but trust isnt exactly the right word either as thawne fucking loves visiting barry while they're both in their civil clothes at times + itwasmebarry still becomes a thing (elaborated on further below).

thawne is faster than barry here from the very beginning on pure theory and little to no speedster experience but only because barry just desperatly tries to process all the information he recieves from thawne every time they fight along with handling whatever endangering civilians shit eo does and he isnt doing well. at all. like, it does require a lot of hard effort not to lose your mind while constantly being hit with stuff like 'OOOHH DID I MENTION THAT I WORK AS THE CURATOR OF THE FLASH MUSEUM IN THE 25TH CENTURY?!? BTW WE STUDY YOUR HISTORY IN SCHOOL IN COMICS FORM, ISNT THAT AMAZING?!!'

thawne never shuts up. thawne genuinely enjoys the whole thing and admires barry an impossible amount and he's always fascinated by every aspect of the speed force, especially seeing and using it in action. thawne never acts like a normal villain as in 'commit crime->run away/fight the hero/watch the chaos'. he does something that endangeres people's lives (ALWAYS in front of barry because that is the whole point) then runs alongside barry as he saves everyone, never initiating the fight and ENDLESSLY commenting on everything barry does with consideration of flash facts, speed force and other physics stuff and even barry's personal background. it always goes like 'must do this and this to get everyone to safety!-' and thawne, instantly from somwhere behind barry's left shoulder: 'YES you DO, because this this and this and of course you could try that but-' and it goes on for 5 minutes on superspeed at the very least. from a non-speedster perspective, it looks like two blurs with lightnings, red and yellow, are saving people and going with some kind of weird squeaking high-pitched sound, which is never there if there is only flash around.

by the way, the rule that it is Very important for thawne to touch barry at any given chance and prolong it by going faster than him is still present. the same goes for becoming a speedster partially to have an opportunity to get away from 25th century and its mildly or not so dystopian shit and boringness. doesnt really realize the first part tho, sometimes casually drops some crazy ass facts about his future as something totally normal (like that one good-bad detection chair from silver age that gets a cameo in rs) and gets confused when the reaction is something like '.....i am so sorry.'

THE SAME ALSO GOES FOR 'IT WAS ME BARRY', its just way more lighthearted and has the purpose only of annoying and messing with barry through slight inconveniences in his life and it is a whole another part of their enemyship outside of the usual tag games. examples: 1. barry in his lab, extremely tired and almost exhausted, stumbles on air, says 'dammit eobard, this again??'. thawne unphases nearby with an offended look, goes 'HEY. THAT WASNT ME.', demonstratively pushes barry's mug with coffee off the table like a cat, 'now this was me, barry', grins and runs off before barry can do anything; 2. imagine thawne's excitement when he plays chess in iron heights, looks away, notices yellow lightnings with the corner of his eye and turns to the board again only to find that his queen is gone. the very next encounter starts with thawne running around barry in circles like 'it was you. it was you. IT WAS YOU! ITWASYOUWASNTIT!!'

this thawne is incapable of murdering anyone close to barry or ever hurt him at all. the best he can do is threaten anyone's life in barry's sight (and he knows barry will save everyone. more, he never arranges the events with the chance of barry not being fast enough to save every single life threatened so it isnt a big deal) because in other case he just wont come out to play with him :( ((i dont think thawne's generally capable of murder here? he feels too silly for that to me))

following important things: 1. barry obviously never killed thawne because he never did anything that extreme. 2. nora allen is alive and well and probably met thawne personally. he visits her in his civil clothes and acts in the nicest way possible, barry hears about the mysterious friend from work he never mentioned later and chokes on tea as nora recalls 'what did he say his name was? edward taurine?' 3. BARRY'S DOG IS STILL DEAD THO but it actually was an accident. he still blames himself for not shutting the back door that day in the way he blames himself for the not emotional enough postcard for his grandma in dc superhero girls. (see also: this vid but its about the dog instead of nora) ((ALSO thawne is most likely actively empathetic about it because he cant stand seeing barry sad or hurt. unfortunately he is also actively neurodivergent so that turns out to be awkward))

they team up often but barry is never aware of that as it happens out of his control. thawne has every single event that threatened barry marked in his calendar and an alarm set for it and he just shows up there like 'fuck you, this is MY archnemesis/idol/inspiration and nobody is going to fucking hurt him'

barry is generally always in the state of confusion when it comes to thawne. he doesnt understand what's going on like 80% of the time. as thawne never gets any clearer to him, barry just accepts that this, at some point, is now a part of his life.

instead of love letters, thawne writes and sends barry personally discovered speed force equations like 'look!! this is how it all works there!!' and occasionally mentions other science things discovered after 21st century. barry reads all that, understands and sometimes uses those against thawne who is completely delighted by that.

one day thawne manages to lock barry up in anti-meta cell and spends the following 3 hours on MATHEMATICALLY PROVING THE EXISTENCE OF THE SPEEDFORCE TO HIM STEP BY STEP, reciting his dissertation verbatim which was written in the context of no one knowing and caring about the concept.

thawne participates in the legion of doom and other supercriminal associations out of 'is flash gonna be there?? whatever youre planning im in, just leave him to me and me alone'. probably doesnt even listen to the scheme details and learns about it directly from barry in the final fight when he asks him 'eobard?? what?? the?? fuck?? why are you participating in something that's ultimate goal is DESTROYING THE FUTURE??'. (or others just stopped telling him the details, OR he doesnt listen on purpose after that one time he edited the whole plan like 'oh cmon do you actually think you could succeed with THIS?? let me show you how its actually done' only for them to lose epically. whats worse is that thawne saw it as something obvious. 'wait you really thought it would work?? cmon the whole point of being a supervillain is that the good guys always stop you no matter what you come up with.' they naturally never let him speak on the plans again which he responded with 'WHATEVER. YOU DO YOU IG. NOT GONNA INTERFERE AGAIN :/') unironically protects barry in group fights if any other villain is trying to aid him against the flash and attacks his own allies for that (barry once uses that to his advantage to take out the whole legion one by one lmfao. thawne genuinely doesnt notice that he is the only one standing until barry mentions it. he takes a moment to look around and that's when barry takes him out, too). as you can figure, he doesnt get invited into villain associations often, and if he does its usually the last resort bc he is a Genius Even By Future's Standards and therefore one of the most competent scientists out there.

nobody wants to sit at the same table with thawne in iron heights or interact at all because he instantly starts infodumping about the flash and their relationship. you accidentally get closer than like 2m to him and after a few seconds he just goes 'me and flash are best enemies, you know? we even always wear matching suits, oh and did you know-'

thawne gets mad if you compare his suit with kid flash because his suit has a Deep Idea and acktually he got to 21st century before wally was also struck by lightning and therefore was here first (yep, he did that on purpose and it gets revealed the very same moment he mentions it)

speaking of kid flash. thawne argues with him at any given chance because fighting a literal child on who is the biggest flash fan is something he would do on a daily basis. it just feels right (and it shouldve happened in canon at this point at least once. fucking Come On dc. almost 60 years of thawne's existence and for what!!). his points are that: he is the flash's Equal (even in height. thawne is very fucking proud of that fact) and not a pathetic sidekick; he got powers after years of hard scientific work and not by coming to barry's lab at the right moment; he is an Expert, a Professor, a Curator of the flash museum and knows everything about flashes, including the things they dont know themselves yet (he accidentally reveals that wally is also gonna be the flash but is quick to claim that he was the slowest and dumbest of them all and actually fuck you ima erase that from the timeline later), 'therefore l + ratio + IM his biggest fan and there is nothing you can do about it' 'lmaoooo who the heck taught you these words?? dude you sound so cringe. like do you even know what ratio means??' '*thinking it's just a figure of speech from 21st century literature classics or something like that for his whole life* well i- h- wh- DONT CHANGE THE SUBJECT.' wally doesnt care at all and just trolls him, harshly at times. he doesnt take thawne even a little bit seriously, which eo tragically doesnt realize.

thawne's comedically jealous of barry to iris between the lines and is completely unaware of that. the same thing going on with the rogues about emenyship with barry but that one is direct and on purpose. probably fucking jumps in their fights with flash like 'hi i just took out cap cold for you no need to thank me <3 now, can WE dance?? :|' every now and then. probably it gets super awkward when they inevitably end up in iron heights together that same day. honestly i think every supervillain who met thawne wants to kill him at this point. he's extremely annoying, both on purpose and not

thawne finds and starts nitpicking the first curators and architects of the flash museum in 21st century from the very project stage like 'NO it should stand THE OTHER WAY everyone shut up im from the future i Know Better'. it continues right until barry comes to pick him up and apologise for the inconvenience. 'eobard, i know this place means... a lot to you but please let history run its course. i mean, arent you risking your whole existence by trying to make these changes?' 'BUT THEY'RE DOING IT WRONG >:('

CANONICALLY ALMOST DROWNS 3M AWAY FROM A BRIDGE WHILE TRYING TO RUN ON WATER WITHOUT KNOWING HOW TO DO THAT YET OR AT LEAST HOW TO SWIM. every time barry mentions that incident thawne blushes like hell out of shame. imagine being saved from the lake by your crush/nemesis/everything who is actually Worried that you almost drowned out of your own stupidity which kind of covers the cringefail at first so youre enjoying the Moment but then you hear 'why did you even decide to run across the lake, there was a bridge nearby?'. thawne BEGS barry not to tell anyone (and especially wally). that probably was the first time thawne actually stayed in iron heights for longer than half an hour without getting out the very second everyone looks away on barry's condition of secrecy. now, the funniest part? if thawne hadnt shown that it was cringe even to him, barry wouldnt even say a single thing any further. to him it was a usual impossible to grasp shit thawne does every single encounter.

thawne considers heroes and their morals objectively dumb but his thoughts on barry having the same mindset are 'god he is SO adorably naive. so pure. so innocent. havent done anything wrong in his life. sweetest cinnamon roll of all times'. occasionally tells him that out loud because he has no fucking shame except when it comes to the lake incident

his own set of morals is just 'be gay do crime' where be gay stands for teaming up with barry on practically everything that isnt their one on one fights.

following: other villains are dumb to him as well. sometimes complains to barry about how nobody Understands him and his superior taste in being a supervillain, especially in the legion. poor barry just tries to get some rest between work and superheroing and then thawne casually comes running out of fucking nowhere, lies down on his lap and starts venting about how barry is the only one that Gets him on superspeed.

#eobard thawne #professor zoom #reverse flash #the flash #barry allen #eobarry ig?#healthy eobarry au #wanna know how i came up with such brilliant concept? I FUCKING DREAMED IT.#my ass has gotten so focused on canon shit that this wasnt even a conscious idea. i had to have my brain randomly pull this out on me #anyway it was a comic with dcau drawing style. thawne was having the best time possible and barry could barely keep up with his wordflow #the point that starts with 'thawne never shuts up' comes directly from how it was in the dream #they are so precious to me

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hopelessromantic423 · 1 year

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A Simple Night for Cuddling

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You fall asleep with Bucky not home, but you are soon awoken with him wanting to hold you as close as possible.

Warnings: so much fluff. So much. an okay amount of details.

A/N: howdy! I couldn’t find a photo that fit the vibe. whoops. Also if you couldn’t tell, fluffy haired Bucky is my favorite :)

It was your average Monday night. You had dinner by yourself at the kitchen table and now you were plopped on the couch with your back against the arm rest and a nice fluffy blanket over your knees.

The movie of the night was la la land because you hadn’t seen it in a while and you wanted something with music in it. Sooner or later, you let out a yawn and allowed your eyes to draw closed with your head resting on the back of the couch.

You didn’t even hear Bucky walk in. He had time to set down his keys, take his boots off at the door and wander around looking for you. He was headed towards your bedroom when he heard a soft snore coming from the couch, which brought a warm smile to his face.

You were sound asleep on the couch, your knees sitting against your chest as you sat up. Bucky quietly came around and sat right in front of you. His hand came to rest on your leg, rubbing softly up and down to coax you out of sleep.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. His hand came up to brush a few loose hairs from your cheek to past your ear. “Wake up.”

Once you felt his warm hand running soft circles on your cheek, that easily lulled you out of your trance and your eyes slowly peered up at him.

“You’re home,” you said sleepily with a smile. If you hadn’t just woken up, your excitement would be more visual.

“I missed you,” Bucky said while leaning and giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. You reciprocated, pulling him closer to you.

Before you could pull him any closer Bucky stood up and wrapped both of his hands under your knees. You gave Bucky a quizzical look which he just replied with a simple, “trust me.”

He lightly tugged at your legs which made you slide down the couch, now laying with your back flush to the cushions. Bucky leaned over you and placed himself between the couch and your body. His head rested on your chest, with one hand resting under your back and the other laid protectively over your waist.

His body was like a warm weighted blanket. You hummed in satisfaction while taking in how comfortable you were. He seemed comfortable too, immediately closing his eyes to relish in your closeness. Your hand reached down to lightly trace up and down his back as the two of you laid there.

“How was work?” Your voice was soft as you spoke. The TV light dimly lit the two of you, with the sound only a quiet murmur.

“It was okay, don’t want to talk about it,” Bucky replied, nuzzling his face into the soft spot underneath your breast.

That was one of the things you and Bucky just understood about each other. You knew work was hard on him, and Bucky knew work wasn’t a piece of cake for you either so when one of you didn’t want to talk about it, you don’t push.

“I love you,” Bucky said, glancing up at you with a soft smile. Three words were so simple but meant so much. His sweet blue eyes made your heart melt into a puddle. He really made you feel like the only girl in the world.

“I love you too James.”

Soon after that, the two of you fell asleep right in the position you were in. It must have been around 3 in the morning when Bucky woke up randomly, realizing the state that you both were in. He quietly chuckled to himself as he got up, making sure not to wake you.

Scooping you up bridal style, he carried you into bed and fell right back asleep. As he closed his eyes, Bucky hoped that scenario would happen more often because the thought of holding you forever wasn’t such a bad idea.

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x fluff

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dxzziie · 4 days

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late night doodles (for me anyway)

soo like a few days ago i randomly got the idea to draw the mewts as Na’vi

and i did

and cannot stop

its 3am almost 4 help

heres the first doodles of megamama and little baby nana as na’vi :3

yes they arent pureblooded na’vi, they got some human in them

and then DD and adult nana!!

as you can see only na’vi!mgmama is a forest clan na’vi, while both dd and nana are reef clan na’vi

i do like drawing the reef people a bit more than the forest people but the forest just felt right for megamama, and the reef felt right for dd :)

nana came from dd so of course she also had to be a reef na’vi too xD

#mewtwos?#na’vi art #na’vi oc #avatar the way of water #mewtwo alternates

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 2 months

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Hi there,

Saw your post about Cajun/cowboy Alastor and OMG! I don’t have many ideas other then maybe he plays poker for souls or something like that and maybe a reader comes into town and is just as good at poker as he is. And he cannot seem to win, leading him to become mildly obsessed over winning their soul.

Thats all I have as I don’t know much about cajun/cowboy stuff.

I’ll let you know if I have any other ideas!

Thank you!

Alastor - [ ACE OF HEARTS ]

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A/N: Omg, I love your take on cowboy Al! It got me thinking about it for days. I have never played poker, so I had to watch multiple YouTube videos to understand the game while writing this. Hopefully, it came out accurate enough! Also, this is a very, VERY traumatic/smut-heavy fic I'm working on, so please be aware and know I don't endorse anything I write.

WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ MATURE THEMES ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ GUN PLAY… ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON….eventually.] + [ SLIGHT/IMPLIED AGE GAP ] + [ MENTIONS OF GORE/BLOOD/CANNABILISM ] + [ KIDNAPPING…sort of?.. ] + [ PARENTAL PHYSICAL AB*SE…eventually..] + [ ANGST/TRUAMA…]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxx

**Cowboy Alastor** is known for his record of killing, is a skilled bounty hunter, and is far from a decently moral one. Everyone assumes his motives, guessing who his next target is and if he’ll ever feel guilt for what he does to them.

He doesn't.

What kind of demon would he be if he did…

Besides, the people he kills owe him in one way or another, all in debt to the red demon by their stupidity and lust for life, so he feels nothing for them when the time comes for the price of their deals to be paid.

Alastor arrives for them in the dead of dry nights, taking their last breath with a single bullet to the head or a clean cut across the throat. Their pleas do little to affect his decision.

“A deal is a deal…”

He reminds them that escaping a bloody end is impossible, already solidified by their selfish desires, and no amount of begging will change his mind. They curse his name, glaring at the grin on his face as he draws nearer with deathly intent in his eyes, and it only grows as he derives pleasure from their refusal to cooperate.

The riches, the riding, and the roughness he endures daily are nothing compared to the satisfaction he gets from killing. Others may deal in chasing oil, farming land, and cattle, but he stakes his fulfillment in the business of blood.

**Cowboy Alastor** dabbles in gambling when he's not off-striking deals with lowly souls or wreaking havoc on those he deems deserving.

Every city south of New Orleans with a bar or saloon welcomes his visits and not by choice.

Those who don't meet his standards or demands of hospitality drop from the face of the earth at his will, burning to a crisp full of the dead occupants who so lightly offended him, and never to be rebuilt out of fear he'd return to demolish it again.

He surely would, but no one has yet to test the theory in fear of a painful death by his hands.

Alastor leisurely travels the expanse of Louisiana's countryside, partial to riding wherever the wind blows, but he’ll always return to the rumbling city of New Orleans.

Whether for personal reasons or because his beloved mother wished to see him, it becomes second nature for the deer demon to reside there randomly. It was his hometown, after all, and he preferred the taste of whiskey from a familiar place over foreign alcohol in far-off dusty taverns he'd never visit again.

The saloon he fancies sits opposite the central townhouse, a tall building at the end of a main street that never seemed to rest.

Lafitte’s Blacksmith Bar

Summer nights brought out and drew in more people, filling the bar with patrons who knew of his deeds and those who’d only heard scarring stories about him through the ladder. The knowledge of a red reaper roaming the towns of Louisiana varied, but their fearful respect of him was abundant the moment Alastor stepped foot into the bustling bar.

He was there, in good spirits for the most part, but still an impossible threat they couldn't brush off.

**Cowboy Alastor** greets the silent patrons with a sly grin, tipping his hat to the fear-stricken owner who eyed him from behind the packed bar.

“Don't let me interrupt the fun, Cher. I'm not here to cause you trouble… that's if you're kind enough to indulge me.”Alastor chuckles, not waiting for a proper response from anyone as he stalks over to his usual spot in the smokey parlor.

A group of cattlemen stiffen in their seats as he walks by, all grabbing their drinks as swiftly as possible before leaping up from their table to avoid him, and their skittish actions cause Alastor to laugh as he settles into a particular backroom booth.

It was customary for people to keep their distance from him, some deterred by his striking appearance while others simply didn't want to risk involvement with a known killer. He saw nothing wrong with their aversion, glad that his reputation proceeded him, but there were those single few who saw him as a challenge rather than a threat.

Poor fools…

Mortal or not, he ran into them regularly, welcoming their duels like a bored child getting a new toy to destroy, and though he knew they'd fail to win against him, he'd never turn down a good game.

Ever…

**Cowboy Alastor** lets the saloon wind into chaos again, humming along to the melody of music and rowdy singing while getting comfortable in his secluded spot.

His hat rests low on his head, shielding most of his red gaze from those who look his way, only leaving the view of his Cheshire smile and effectively signaling his oddly calm demeanor. Alastor slipped his riding jacket off, tossing the tailored burgundy clothing across the back of the booth, his leather and suede black gloves following suit.

“What a day it's been…” he mumbled while flexing his long fingers, relaxing his posture while leaning back and rolling his neck until a soft ‘pop’ was heard.

Consequently, the tension tangled in his limber body from riding all day unraveled. Alastor sucked his teeth at the feeling, licking his lips as a satisfied groan left them, and just as he sat forward again, the owner hurried to his table with a bottle of alcohol and a tray of cigars.

“Your usual, Al,” he split out, setting the items in front of him with shakey hands, and Alastor clicks his tongue at the nervous tick. He'd come to this bar for years, and the old man still trembled in his boots around him. The poor fool wouldn't dare admit his fear either, rushing off as soon as he reached for the bottle, and though some might consider his retreat rude, Alastor found it amusing.

Flattering, even.

**Cowboy Alastor** drinks slowly, letting the whiskey burn his tongue and drowning the malt taste with languid drags from a cigar.

Eyes scan over him, women whisper about him lustfully under the rowdy music, and the men keep their senses about them with happy trigger fingers.

Because as they say: “Red Reaper, Red Reaper. The devil's solemn deal keeper. Beware him & the hell he seeks…”

Alastor imposes his intensity, grinning at those who stare too long, watching the women who drink him in with an equally sultry stare, and daring the men to throw a bullet his way with a knowing smirk. He invites trouble, waiting for it like a preying snake in tall, dry grass, but after some time, he assumes no one in the saloon will accept his invitation.

That is until you step in, looking lost among the worldly thrills of a bar but unafraid to venture further into it with an air of certainty surrounding you.

**Cowboy Alastor** makes no move to approach you, laid back as ever, as he observes the gentle way you speak to men who drunkenly approach you. They make offers to dance, almost crowding your more diminutive form as you trail to the bar.

“Sorry, boys, but I'm here on business, not pleasure. Now, run along..” you wave them away playfully, purposely flirtatious but avidly stern.

He expects them to continue bugging you; you're a doll, after all, prettier than most women he's seen. However, the men retreat politely, leaving you be as the owner approaches your side, and you immediately turn to hug him despite his apparent concerned expression.

Alastor observes the exchange closely, reading your lips perfectly while sipping at his drink, and it's all too easy for him to assess the situation.

The daughter of a businessman returns home after finishing school in the north, wanting to visit him at work as a pleasant surprise, but he's far from happy about a young lady like yourself being out late at night in a place like this.

You're too mannered to be seen around the patrons, it's dangerous for you to ride alone in the evening, and your father isn't pleased you intend to stay out to celebrate your school completion.

He tells you it's best to go home, that he'll come with you, but you insist on staying and remind him, “I'm not your little girl anymore, Daddy!..” The older man can't seem to rein you in, having to drop the lecture as a small brawl breaks out in the corner of the saloon, which draws his attention immediately, and this leaves you to wander the scene freely.

A perfect time for Alastor to reel you in close and personal…

**Cowboy Alastor** whistles when you walk past his area, catching your attention with a short, soulful melody, and you quickly notice him in the dim back room.

“Hi there, lil’ lady. Searchin' for somethin'?” He inquires playfully, tone bordering sensual, and his grin slipping into a closed smile as your gaze settles on him.

You’re curious, not scared of him like most are, and the moment he speaks to you, questions race through your head.

Who is he?

How have you never seen him here before?

Why, in God's name, is he sitting away from the masses?

Is he a rider, a hunter, or maybe a convict?

It was hard to tell from a distance, so without a second thought, you flashed him a gentle smile, gradually approaching where he sat, “Hello, and who might you be, sir?” You chirp a greeting, resisting the urge to bite your lip as he stares into your wandering gaze.

Alastor assumed you’d been away from the South too long to realize who he was, that your father's earlier warning didn’t sprout from overprotectiveness but rather fear of his presence.

You didn’t see him as a threat, nor a danger, but a new face in an old town.

He chuckles, putting out his cigar after taking a particularly long drag from it, blowing smoke past his lips with a coy hum. You blink as the convoluted air fans your face, unbothered by it and itching for a taste of tobacco yourself. It’d been a few years since you’d let loose, not allowed to frequent bars or act unladylike in the limelight of northern modesty.

“A loyal patron, but it’s been some time since I’ve paid this place a visit.” He answers you politely, an odd trait that most men only reserved for themselves but refreshing to experience.

“Oh, well, that’s nice to hear, but your name is what I would like to know.”

A tender smirk stretches your lips, a red hue dusting your cheeks as he tips his hate apologetically before uttering a response, “Alastor Hartifelt. A pleasure to meet you, Miss…” he pauses, quirking a brow at you expectantly, and you take a moment to analyze him further.

You've heard your father utter his name many times before your departure to the north. He'd described him brutally, having less than pleasant things to say about bounty hunters in general but especially about the man in front of you now. You'd heard people talk of his deeds, deals, and evil.

He was dubbed the ‘Red Reaper’ for a good reason, lurking around in the bitter nights and drawing blood from one poor soul or another in his travels.

Supposedly, he was a terrifying monster, but you'd always found beauty in the demented. It was one of the reasons your father had sent you away, but fortunately, the influence of the posh upper class did nothing to change your consciousness.

Besides, the rumors had failed to mention how attractive the red reaper was, let alone dashing. He seemed nice enough hadn't flashed his weapon, threatened, or catcalled you disrespectfully.

So, you found no harm in telling him your name, “Y/n L/n. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Hartifelt.” You blink slowly, drowning in his red eyes, unconsciously swaying where you stood, back to a wall that hid your presence near him from your father's eyes and the curious stares of others.

Alastor glanced at the space beside him, silently asking that you join him, but unlike most women, he rarely took an interest in, you didn't move until he asked you outright.

“Would you care to join me for a drink, Miss L/n? I'd like to have your company for a while..”

He doesn't speak any louder than needed, using every bit of charm he has to lure you in, and you let him believe he's succeeded with a sensual laugh and purring laugh.

“Why, I thought you'd never ask..”

**Cowboy Alastor** asks a lot of questions. Subtly gathering information about you that he has no use for.

You give him answers; some are lies, others are indiscriminate truths, but you can't bring yourself to be completely honest with a stranger known for his cunning. He keeps your glass full, pacing the liquor with you, reveling in your gentle laughter after every sip, and softening faster and faster the longer you conversed.

You kept your wits about you as best as possible, inviting his fleeting touches but never going further than whispering in his ear or tapping a finger under his sharp chin when he'd stare too long.

Alastor didn't mind your soft hands on him, nor your lingering gaze and confident provocations. He absentmindedly returned the gestures just as boldly.

Your fifth glass of whiskey was running low, and without a hint of hesitation, he refilled it alongside his own. You watched as the amber liquid filled each glass, utterly relaxed as he spoke to you tenderly, “You say your father sent you far up north. May I ask why?…”

He peers at you, sliding the transparent glass into your waiting hand, and you chuckle wryly while taking a sip. “Daddy says it was for my good. You see, my mother is a stickler about manners, and I didn't have much of any growing up. Ironic, seeing as I was raised well enough.” you paused, frowning at the memory of your strict but loving mother.

She was lovely to look at and kind most of the time, but her ambitions for you outweighed her patience. Alastor noted the haunting sadness in your eyes but said nothing as you continued, looking out into the crowd of patrons fussing about as you did.

“My mother died a few years back, leaving daddy to handle me, and when he realized he couldn't manage the business and a daughter, he sent me away. Couldn't blame him either; I was getting into trouble left and right and had some bad habits on the rise, too.”

His ears perked at the words ‘bad habits’ leaving your lips, naturally drawn to knowing a mortal's darkest secrets, so he pressed for clarification.

“Bad habits, you say? I couldn't imagine a sweet thing like you havin’ such things.”

You scoffed, glad your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol buzz to mask the blush his comment invoked, “Well…I did. Still do if I'm honest.” you admit in a hushed tone, knocking back the last of your drink before glancing his way.

“It's hard to resist doing things you're good at.”

Alastor leaned back into the seat, drink in one hand, the other fixing his hat so it sat back on his head. The adjustment gave you a peek at his fluffy red hair and the distinctive blood-marked x on his forehead. You thought to ask what the mark meant but saved the question for later, as he agreed with your statement.

“Very true, ma chere. Although I'm one for killin’, your passion may not be so grizzly and easier to alleviate.”

“My father thinks gambling is just as bad as killing. It doesn't matter if he's addicted to it himself or not. If I do it…I'm the devil's daughter in his eyes..” You roll your eyes, an action that jolts a nerve Alastor hasn't felt in years and subconsciously doesn't ignore.

“Gambling? That's your unproper poison?” he narrows his gaze as you nod lazily, a few ringlets of your hair falling from its pinned-up style as you do, resting on the skin of your shoulders and neck.

Soft.

Your locks look soft and silky to the touch, tempting him to run his fingers through it, across your skin, and, god forbid, under your dress.

A heavy breath settled in his chest at the possibility, a familiar rush coursing through him as you moved your lips to speak, “Yes. I see a stack of playin’ cards, and I just can't help myself. I got rather good at playing too but when you beat everyone in town at it people start to be less kind about your reputation.”

You laugh, attempting to make a light-hearted joke but ultimately grimacing at the mention of lousy sportsmanship from others. You couldn't help winning a challenge in poker, and many saw the talent as disgraceful, which prompted I'll rumor about you.

“That's a shame, sugar. Everyone deserves a chance to play a good game of their choosing.” he feigns concern, meeting your curious eyes as you shift to face him, “Everyone except me if my father has anything to say about it. Still, I suppose it's best I let it go…” you sigh, grabbing the bottle of whiskey to pour another shot.

Suddenly, you freeze, feeling his body heat invade your space. Alastor tilts his head down close to yours, breathing in your scent discretely before pressing his lips to the lobe of your ear as he mutters into it, “Why don't you play a game with me, chere? One lil’ round for fun… right under your daddy's nose, hm?”

The burn of excitement seizes your body, a shakey breath leaving your lips as his voice settles in your mind, inviting you to indulge his offer. That same heat pooled in your core with every second he spent in your space, inhaling the scent of bourbon and sweet sugar cane grass he rode through radiating off him, words just as inviting and addictive.

For a horrifying, well-feared killer, he sure did entice a woman like any natural-born gentleman…

It was a deathly combination you knew he often used, killing or not, and though it'd be wise to avoid his idea, you didn't want to risk missing an opportunity for the thrill.

It'd been so long, too long, and what's the worst that could happen?

Losing to him?

You'd never lost to anyone before, and you were confident that fact wouldn't change -even going up against the Red Reaper himself.

**Cowboy Alastor** relishes when you utter a ‘yes’ to his offer. His grin widens menacingly for a split second as he sets his glass down next to your empty one, conjuring up a meticulously detailed deck of playing cards and placing them on the table.

“You can choose which game we play, sugar…”

Alastor shifts away from you, letting you regain your composure and watching as your delicate fingers reach for the top card of the deck.

“Poker. A favorite of mine..” You didn't think twice before answering him, admiring the red and black ace in your hand, wondering where he acquired such personalized playing cards.

“Poker it is then, chere,” he smirks wickedly, removing his hat entirely to set it on the table before gingerly plucking the card from your hold and sliding to sit opposite you while dishing out equal amounts of cards between you.

Your eyes light up under the oil lamp's golden hue, studying the flick of his hands as he worked, trying hard not to wander up to his piercing gaze. Afraid he'd immediately see your attraction to his nimble hands, well to him in general, and use it against you somehow, so your focus remains on the hand dealt and not him.

As you both plucked your respective set from the table, studying the cards intently, you asked the singular most crucial question every poker match was built on.

“What will the bets be,” Your innocent inquiry earns sultry laughter from him, filling the air, raising feverish chills on your skin as he stares at you through half-lidded eyes.

“I prefer bargains of the soul, my dear. The use and price of one's existence is always more valuable than money, don't you agree?”

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxx

A/N: Don't be mad AT ME, GUYS, PLEASE. I HAD EXAMS LAST WEEK. I'm SORRY FOR DROPPING OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH… sort of, but I'm back now (please do hate me :((( ). Uh, so I might merge “Down in the Dust” with this because both stories kinda originated in my brain at the same time. However, since this is a request, I wrote a two-part tangent smut as a sort of prequel to the other fic! Also, the phrase “Save a horse. Ride a cowboy” will be unironically used…I'm sorry (I'm not lol) ❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ] VOLUME WARNING!!! 🗣️

Fun fact: In the South, we have a rule that if you take a cowboy hat and end up wearing it, they catch you with it (preferably in the mutual interest of getting to know each other). That cowboy gets to fuck you (hopefully, but technically you're initiating a flirting game wearing their hat, lol). It's a cute concept and one any Cowboy Alastor enthusiast should think about. ❤️ credits to the creator.

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ratcash-wasgud · 2 months

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Hihi! Hope you are having a great day, but I had an idea/request for a modern mizu headcanons or fic? or a mix of both? I've been having a rough week, and dealing with some sh. i know this can be triggering for some, so don't write it if it's too much, but I'd really appreciate maybe a modern mizu x struggling or sh reader? and mizu does what she can to help reader feel better and keep reader safe from harming themselves? i hope this is okay! xoxo

hey lovely! no, no, this is actually so valid. i love this idea.

TW tho, as obvious, self harm and mention of suicide.

I hope you enjoy this one.

"...Hey, you...you okay?" Mizu steps into the bathroom, her face draining of color. She noticed how different you were acting these past weeks;

Randomly going silent during conversations, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, or biting you lips and picking at your skin violently...

But she'd never thought she'd see this. You, the love of her life, the one she'd die if she lost, the only one keeping her sane, standing or...hunching over in front of the bathroom sink, blood trickling and dripping everywhere, and your eyes looking back at her.

She's frozen. She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know what would be right to do in this situation. Should she comfort you? Do you even want her comfort right now?

But all those questions flee her mind the moment your lips start trembling, your eyes narrow and fill up with tears, your nose scrunching up in a sniffle. "I...I'm sorry."

Mizu doesn't hesitate to basically jump away from the door and rush to hug you, not caring about the blood getting on her clothes. "It's okay...it's okay." She whispers it like a mantra in your ear. "Everything's fine...I'm here, you're here. We're here...i promise everything's fine."

After that, she sat on the bathroom floor with you until you calmed down, stroking your back while whispering the same, calming things in your ear.

When you calmed down, Mizu bandaged up your arms in silence after cleaning them up. She made sure to be gentle, not wanting to touch any cuts directly, but putting enough pressure on them to stop the bleeding. She didn't dare to look into your eyes while she did it, but when she was done, she leaned down to gently kiss the bandages.

She didn't ask anything, as she didn't know what to ask, or if she can even ask anything. She was just...worried. Worried more than anything.

She then silently led you to the bed, cuddled up behind you, and waited for the similar sound of your breathing slowing down as you fell asleep.

She couldn't sleep for a couple hours more tho. She stayed up, eyes closed, face burried into the warmth of your neck from behind.

You're warm. You're still here.

The next morning, she woke up before you, preparing coffee like she always does for you. When you came out to the kitchen, your eyes sleepy and the bandages still tight on your arms, Mizu gathered up all her strength.

"...can you tell me why?" She asks, her voice low and quiet. You looked at her for a couple moments, before sitting down at the kitchen table.

You started talking about your family backround, how school and work combined stress you out, how you don't like looking at yourself in the mirror. Mizu knew she was the one asking, but she hated hearing it, because she felt powerless.

But even if she felt that way, she was determined. She'll somehow make it better for you.

She spent the next day, thinking about ways to help you get more comfortable with yourself.

She started drawing small cats and bugs on your bandages when she changed them, to make you not want to throw up when you see them.

She stole your lipstick to make a kissmark on the mirror, to exactly where your forehead is in height, so everytime you look in the mirror, you get "kissed".

And she came up with this genius idea to bug a huge pack of stickers, and give you one for every day you stay clean.

She knew it wasn't much.

But to you it meant the world.

#blue eye samurai #bes mizu #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #bes x reader #mizu fanfic #fanfiction #sh comfort

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 1 year

Note

can do u just randomly flashing xavier ur tits shfdjjd

yesss

FLASHING

Pairings: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!reader Summary: ^^^^ Warnings: flashing your tits Note: short but gets to the point

you were bored with your friends going on and on about the latest gossip when you just wanted t have a little fun.

you came up with an idea and excused yourself from the table, making your way the the boys dorms.

you hadn't seen Xavier in a few days, your timetable wasn't the same for the last 2 days and he had been busy with his new paintings.

needless to say, you missed his company and the way he looked at you.

you hadn't actually seen each other naked yet, the most you've seen is his bare chest while sleeping over and all he's seen is your bare thighs in the short shorts you wear or a sneak peak of your cleavage when you wear a little singlet.

the house master wasn't there, due to it being lunch time and no body is in side, although you knew Xavier was. he snapped you in his room.

you walked through his door and shut the door with a slam

Xavier sat at his desk, drawing when you came in and when he turned around to the noise he found you standing behind him with a smile on your face.

"hey, Angel, how can I help you?" he asked, standing up and started walking towards you when you lifted your shirt.

your tits were bare in front of his eyes for a second before you put your shirt down, smiling innocently before you walked out of his room. leaving him there with his hands in his pockets, blinking before going after you.

he chased you through the hall of the boys dorms before grabbing your hips, lifting you up in his arms.

you felt his hard length press against your thigh

"excuse me, missy? what was that?" he huffed

you shrugged innocently in response

"oh, hello, baby. How can I help you today on this fine evening?" you smirked, acting clueless

"oh I think you know how you can help me." he went back to his dorm, laying you down on his bed

"you can't just flash those pretty tits of yours out of no where and expect to get away with it, that's not how it works, Sweetheart"

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

#xavier x you #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #wednesday series #netflix wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #percy hynes white #xavier thorpe blurb #implied smut #xavier thorpe fanfic #requests

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qsycomplainsalot · 8 months

Text

AI isn't Art it's just Illegal Predatory Randomized CGI

Reposting this because OP blocked me, can't begin to guess why.

Photography, collage, readymade and various of the more abstract styles of painting and drawing are all art, and AI isn't. Why is that ? Simply, there are skills required to make technically interesting artpieces using these media, let alone meaningful ones. A skilled photographer might not be skilled with a pen, but their knowledge of composition and observation will always be transferrable to a new medium, in a way that they'll never start their art journey from scratch again. Because they're already an artist, because they've already done art and are skilled at it. Speaking for myself it took me a decade to get to a level where I was able to get paid for my work drawing traditionally, and once there it took me less than a year to reach a somewhat similar level switching over to digital. The skills are more comparable than with say collage or sculpture but the core principle still stands: I had gone and learned traditional art in art school, and while there I learned a slew of skills that were not at all limited to one tool, and when it came to switching I did not have to learn these skills again. Because by that point I was already a trained artist. I could just switch to sculpting with clay tomorrow and the biggest challenge would be to find a new market more than any skill issue.

Meanwhile fucking about with a computer to generate new pictures randomly has NO transferrable skills whatsoever. So much of the work has been taken out of your hands by a pattern seeking piece of software that it is impossible to learn anything from the experience. It's just plain to see when before you click the doodad to generate a new picture, you have NO IDEA what it will look like, none whatsoever unless you've been iterating on it before. You're not having an idea, formulating it in your mind and applying your skills to getting it out into the world, you just sort of have an idea and then a machine does the actual art work for you.

The only way you could possibly get better as an artist from doing this is if somehow you were deluded enough to think the process of scalping every artists' work in history was ethical, while also being observant and caring about art history enough that you'd learn critical skills from looking at the result of your quotation mark work end quote. Which is something you can do by going on a museum, or the internet. And if being an art historian isn't good enough for you, I invite you to actually join the elite exclusive vip club you're funding the death and automatisation of, by simply picking up a pen and piece of paper and starting to draw. It's that fucking simple.

PS: People trying to compare writing prompts with poetry: poetry does not include a stage in its process where all your artistic intent is surrendered to a machine to churn out a mash up of unethically sourced content. Nobody is going to buy a small book of computer generated picture prompts to keep on their night stand. You guys are delusional.

#rant

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colethewolf · 1 year

Text

ON THE THEORY OF ELI BEING CREATED BY THE NEMETON:

This is something that I've been sitting here thinking about for the past couple weeks and I just saw a piece of fanart last night that made me think about it even more, because honestly, the idea that Eli was created by the Nemeton is such a cool idea and it fits with the canon.

So, I don't even care that Jeff Davis is an idiot and was probably too stupid to think of this idea. I feel like I'm in the mood to write some meta after years and years of not writing meta.

Let's talk about it anyways.

We know that the Nemeton was functional during the 1940's before the Nogitsune came into power. And then, sometime after the Nogitsune's first run wild through Beacon Hills, somebody cut it down and essentially rendered it completely powerless.

Now, it stayed powerless for decades UNTIL that one night in the root cellar with Derek and Paige. When Derek killed Paige, he unknowingly committed a virgin sacrifice and sparked the Nemeton back to life. Albeit, the nemeton remained in a weakened state, as it was not back to full power and not working as a beacon to draw in supernatural creatures.

Cut to a few years later, what happens next?

The parents of the teen wolf trio get kidnapped by Jennifer so that she can complete her "three-fold death" sacrifice by killing three guardians. However, she never gets to complete the ritual because Stiles, Allison, and Scott sacrifice themselves in their parents place as surrogates.

Now, the sacrifice that Stiles, Allison, and Scott make was the surrogate sacrifice ritual that Deaton knew how to perform. It put darkness around their hearts and gave them the ability to locate the Nemeton. But that was it, right?

It didn't also act as another virgin sacrifice, right?

Scott? Not a virgin.

Allison? Not a virgin.

Stiles? Not a vir—OH WAIT.

Stiles.

Unintentionally committing a virgin sacrifice by sacrificing himself and giving another spark of power to the Nemeton. And this time, it bumps the nemeton back up to full power after Derek had previously sparked it back to life.

Now, you might be saying:

"But what about Jennifer? She committed virgin sacrifices, too!"

She did. But not to the Nemeton. She was a druid emissary long before the Nemeton was brought back to life. And druids have the ability to perform rituals to basically earn themselves more powers. Those virgin sacrifices that she did in the first few episodes of 3A went straight to herself, not to the Nemeton.

Which means the next virgin sacrifice in the queue was the one that Stiles made by drowning himself, not knowing that he was technically committing two different sacrifices that night.

Derek commits a virgin sacrifice. Then Stiles commits a virgin sacrifice (albeit by sacrificing himself instead of another person). Two consecutive virgin sacrifices by Derek and Stiles, separated by years, and both totally unintentional. And yet both sacrifices powered back up the dead Nemeton.

We know the Nemeton is at least somewhat sentient as it can pick and choose who to let get close to it in the woods. So, who's to say that the Nemeton doesn't hold Derek and Stiles in high regard for bringing it back to life? Who's to say that the Nemeton isn't thankful?

Hmm?

Perhaps, even thankful enough to give Derek and Stiles the ultimate gift in its gratitude? The gift of a son? The gift of a son, born from the Nemeton?

Even Eli seems to have some random, totally strange connection to the Nemeton without really having an explanation for it. He just randomly sleepwalks in the middle of the night and ends up at the Nemeton.

Why?

Now, you could argue that Eli has been sleepwalking out to the Nemeton because of the whole Allison situation in the movie. But what sense does that make? Eli doesn't know Allison Argent. He never did. She was dead before he was even born.

But if we're getting meta in here, Eli just so happens to be 15 years old (the same age Derek was when he sacrificed Paige in the root cellar and woke the Nemeton up). Maybe the Nemeton thinks 15 is the perfect age to start dropping hints to Eli.

In my mind, Deaton was called out to the Nemeton in the middle of the night and found little Eli as a newborn in a little wicker basket made from Nemeton branches and soft leaves, just sitting there asleep in the middle of the Nemeton stump.

And Deaton, being a druid and the old Hale family emissary, knew exactly what the Nemeton was offering and why it was offering it. So, he dropped Eli in his basket onto Derek's doorstep, knocked real loud, and watched as Derek adopted the boy—totally unaware that Eli is 50/50 both his and Stiles'.

But that conversation comes much later.

So, there you have it.

Eli Stilinski-Hale. The son of the Nemeton. The son of Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski.

🌱

#sterek #eli hale #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf meta #meta

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littledollll · 6 months

Text

Call me your angel

Lucifer Morningstar x human!reader

A/n: i love fics that just randomly come to me. In this case I was scrolling through the Lucifer tag like a starved animal (realized I’m practically the main user of it btw) and came across this post by: @masscared-star and immediately thought of some cute sort of intimate conversation scene simply because of that beautiful back-facing drawing. So this is whatever that idea was! Beautiful art btw!<3

Again special thanks to @pebbleswritessometimes and @v3nusxsky for helping me brainstorm and with the general writing process as always.

Warnings: Lucifer’s a little closed off, aludes slightly to sex (barely), non-sexual intimacy, slight insecurity, Lucifer suffering bc of their own mind.

_______________________________

“…you look so pretty..” Lucifer’s attention was captured by your barely whispered words. They were lost in their own mind, always thinking about something, there wasn’t a moment they lived without so much running through their mind. So much you would probably never know.

‘You know enough’, they said. ‘You know what you have to. You know what you really want to.’ Though it wasn’t quite true. You’d never know enough about them. There wasn’t an amount you could know about them without wanting for more.

You wanted to study each and every part of them and their complicated mind. You wanted to understand and feel whatever they did. To feel tethered to this wonderful being. But you know better. And so do they. There is a price to pay with that much knowledge, with all that power.

Maybe in far into the future, you’d finally know everything about the devil, maybe you could have a sliver of understanding for all of it. But for each thing there is time, unlimited time at that. So you had no rush. Lucifer felt comfort in knowing that.

The feeling of your warm hands wrapping around their back and just over their stomach made a slight shiver run through their body, their wings fluttering at the contact.

Your chest pressed against their back, wrapping them in a familiar and warm embrace. And in that moment you felt every running thought leave their mind as they relaxed into your embrace. Their ever-powerful wings rested against their back, against you.

“I wouldn’t know what it feels like.. I have my fair supply of never-ending thoughts. Insecurities and such. Curiosities mostly.”

Immediately, they knew you were observing them. Reading their behaviors. You already knew, or at least had an idea of what was on their mind.

“It’s not all that different from yours then.. no, not truly.” You nodded, they continued.

“Curiosity brought me here.” You disagree. But arguing that would be pointless, you have a thousand times before. “Why do you humans wish to know and have an explanation for everything? The universe is so grand and complicated... sometimes I wish I knew nothing.”

That’s a hard sentiment to combat. You say nothing, letting their statement be just that. “We think we deserve to, maybe. Is it wrong to wonder about everything that was and brought us here? We all want to know about different things, mostly anyways. I wish to know all about you.”

“You deserve to.”

Their statement leaves you confused. Didn’t they just argue we really shouldn’t? That it’s foolish for a human to want to know and understand everything. “I don’t think we d-“

“No. You deserve to. But I fear knowing everything might cause more harm than good. I do not wish for you to understand my wretched mind. But I wish to offer you understanding… does that make any sense?”

Their hands meet your own, feather light touches trace your forearms and each hand, each finger even. Like they’re just admiring you. As if they hadn’t a thousand times before. As if they hadn't a few moments ago. Their hands wrap around your own.

You nod again.

“I’m not in the dark about you… I don’t feel as such either. Maybe it’s my human brain making me want to know it all, hm?” They playfully scoffed, amused by your behavior towards this topic.

“There is vast knowledge that lives in me. Greater than any human mind could ever comprehend. Greater than even I can truly understand. It certainly feels like a burden. But you welcome it and me with open arms, why?”

That idiot. How can somebody so smart be so stupid all at the same time?

��I don’t think you need a map to understand why I love and accept you, angel.” That made them pause. You felt them suck in a breath, and their heart just- stop. Granted it was something they did for your comfort, the devil doesn’t truly need a heartbeat. So there was no concern for their health, but fear for wondering if you went too far.

“..I call you my devil so often, I-..” you wished you could see their face now, it would give you a bit of an idea on how to continue. But you’d have to guess and trust you know them enough to know how they felt in that moment.

You felt a soft squeeze in your right hand, before their thumb began to gently caress the back of it. It made you sigh in relief. “I feel as if you’re my angel, in a way that is very personal to me and no one else.”

That felt nice, hearing your soft words, understanding more or less what you meant by it. “I like it... you may continue calling me that.”

“Call me your angel.” They spoke almost shyly, even through what you would often call their ‘fancy’ way of speaking (a habit you’ve also picked up after so long with them). It was thoroughly amusing to you.

“And so I will, my angel.” They felt the words whispered against their skin, something was oddly comforting about it, Lucifer wished to relish in it forever, bathe in the feeling of the warmth of your love. But that was no far fetched dream, this was it. That warmth was you. That warmth was theirs for all eternity.

#lucifer sandman #sandman lucifer x reader #the sandman #lucifer morningstar the sandman #lucifer morningstar sandman #the sandman lucifer morningstar #the sandman lucifer #the sandman lucifer morningstar x reader #gwendoline christie #lucifer sandman fluff

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missgryffin · 4 months

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lying in wait

Randomly listened to some Hamilton over the weekend, ended up with "Wait For It" stuck in my head, and wrote this in a couple hours today. I think it's angst, but with a nice dash of crack? Idk 😅 But I hope it makes you smile! 🫶 below + AO3

November 3, 1981

The cottage is silent, save for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hall, and it’s already pitch dark, with only the faint glow of street lamps and budding moonlight shining in through rain-slicked windows.

Lily draws up her knees to her chest where she sits on the sofa, peering mindlessly into blurry windowpane. She doesn’t remember the last time she walked aimlessly down a road, or went into a shop. Sometimes, on stormy autumn nights like this, she wonders if she ever will again.

Footsteps tumble down the stairs, then come to an abrupt halt.

“Lil?” She can see his shadowed outline, one hand in his hair. “You just…sitting in the dark?”

She shrugs, though he probably can’t see, and asks, “Harry went down alright, then?”

James chuckles to himself as he crosses the room, picking his way around the furniture until he drops onto the sofa next to her. “After reading every book twice and playing the Snitch game for thirty minutes…yes.” He leans closer, grinning. “Our son is asleep.”

She rests a hand on his scruffy cheek. “It’s only supposed to be ten minutes of the Snitch game,” she teases him.

“I know,” James sighs. “But he asked for ten more.”

Lily snorts. “What, and then ten more after that?”

He throws his hands weakly in his lap. “Wha—am I supposed to say no to the kid? He looks just like me!”

She falls into him, a laughing heap, and for a moment, they simply giggle deliriously together. It’s nice. It’s normal. Or at least a sliver of it.

James cuddles her into him, and Lily breaths him in. They’ve lost so many over the few years since Hogwarts, but they still have each other. She clings on to that, to him.

“I love you,” she says into his chest.

He kisses the top of her head. “I love you, too.”

A stretching silence; a heavy sigh. “It’s his birthday.”

“I know,” James murmurs. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”

Lily peels herself off his chest and swings a leg over his lap, sitting with her arms looped around his neck. How many conversations have they had over the years while sitting just like this? How many more will they get?

“He said he’d be in touch by today.” Her mind won’t stop racing. “What if this was a bad id—”

“It wasn’t,” James cuts her off. “Besides.” A heavy sigh. “It was…our only idea.”

“Do you think…” She pauses, plays with his hair. “Do you think we…did the right thing?”

He sits up straighter, pulling her closer against him. “You’re the only two people in my life I know I can trust completely,” he says. “So yeah, I think we did.”

There’s no use rehashing it again; they’ve done that enough. Yes, he now has a target on his back, but it’s not like he wasn’t already a target before. No, it couldn’t have been anyone else—not Albus, who knows more than he’s saying; not Remus, whom Albus and Sirius both suspect; and not Peter, who’s been looking exhausted and strung-out from the night-shift reconnaissance he’s been assigned. Yes, he had to leave. And no, it wasn’t cowardly to do so.

Granted, that last bit had taken a not insignificant amount of convincing (damned Gryffindor), but he eventually came around to their idea. Staying around in England with Voldemort sure to be onto him was certain death. But why not take advantage of being top of Voldemort’s mind? Why make it easy, when instead he could make it hard? Give the Order a leg up? Let them use him (or rather, the idea of him) as bait to lure and manipulate all the Death Eaters looking for him, and maybe even root out the spy in the process? And really, if anyone was going to lead Voldemort on a wild goose chase, setting traps and lying in wait, who better than Sirius Black?

Still, she worries. She can’t help it. And she knows James worries too, even if he does do a better job of hiding it.

There’s only one thing left to do, really; only one way to pass the time sufficiently distracted from racing thoughts. James must read her mind, because he’s all eager hands and excited tongue when she kisses him. Maybe it’s unhealthy, how much they’ve used sex to cope the past year. But when his mouth feels like this and hair’s in her hands…she’s not sure she cares.

“Prongs!”

They jump, springing apart like they’re fifth years caught after curfew. James swears under his breath as they fumble to right the clothes they’d started shoving aside before he reaches for the small mirror sitting on the coffee table.

“Padfoot!”

Lily frantically feels around the sofa for her wand.

“Why’s it so dar—oh, don’t tell me you were just—”

“We were waiting for you,” James covers.

“Mate. That’s worse. Just say you were shagging.”

“Well, we weren’t yet.”

“Hi, Sirius.” She brandishes her now-glowing wand, recovered from the seam between the cushions.

“Lily! Looking rumpled as ever!”

She yanks her cardigan back up her shoulder as she scolds, “Shut it.”

“I miss you, too.”

They can only see Sirius’s chin in frame, and it seems like he’s moving around.

“Happy birthday, man,” James says.

“Thanks.”

“Where are you?”

“Hang on—I have to show you—ready?”

“Yeah?”

His face comes into view and Lily instantly gasps.

Sirius grins. “Like it?”

His once shoulder-length hair’s been chopped off stylishly short in a fresh cut that makes him look like old Hollywood charm in that loose button-down he has on.

“Damn, Pads!”

“I…barely recognize you,” Lily stammers.

“Well.” He adjusts the mirror closer to his face. “That’s sorta the point.”

A heavy pit settles in her stomach.

“How you been?” James asks. “Travel go okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” Sirius shrugs. “I’ve been doing things the Muggle way—that Muggle Studies N.E.W.T.’s finally paying off, who woulda thought.”

“Where are you now?”

The mirror turns around, panning over an ocean-side city lit up with lights through a set of patio doors. “Cannes,” he says, and Lily hears the grin in his voice. The mirror turns back to his face. “I have access to money here, dad’s side of the family, in the French bank. And I figure…” He flops back atop a hotel bed, one hand beneath his head. “If Voldemort wants to come get me, he’ll just have to bring his snakey arse down to the beach, won’t he?”

They all bust up into snorting, wheezing laughter. It’s not normal; none of it’s normal. But laughing with her husband and their best friend like this is the closest to normal she’s felt in a long time, and she thinks, if this is how life has to be for awhile, she can live with it.

#missgryffin writes #jily #jple #james x lily #jily fanfiction #alternate ending #not really sure what this is it just happened #everyone lives au #justice for sirius black #getting the adventure story he deserves

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hyzenthlayroseart · 5 months

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This idea just randomly came into my head and I had to draw it. I doubt Perry did missions as a baby but it was still too cute for me not to draw.

#fan art #disney #phineas and ferb #perry the platypus

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ganyulover123 · 9 months

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this idea came to me randomly and I had to draw it, it would also go well with Nadja and the Nadja doll and also with Laszlo and baby Colin Robinson

#guidja #the guide wwdits #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #wwdits the guide #nadja wwdits #wwdits nadja #nadja of antipaxos #nadja x the guide #wwdits laszlo #wwdits colin robinson #wwdits nandor #wwdits guillermo

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s-rosie · 10 days

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Javery Hcssss

hi guysssss! I hope you like these hcs and enjoyed them as much as i liked making them. I took some of the tips. I got from my last post and used to them to make these. Please comment any more ways I can improve. I’m always trying to get better. Thank you.

when jameson first started dating her, she had never received romantic affection, so she had no idea to react to it and just combusted

jamie leaves the biggest and darkest hickeys on her and she sometimes doesn’t even realize until she hears snickering

at a gala, one time avery pulled jameson into the bathroom and they made out until alisa came looking for them, averys red lipstick stained his face and there was no makeup to cover it up causing alisa to just scream at them for like 20 minutes and he walked around the gala with lipstick stains on his face the rest of the night

avery once told jameson what she always wanted her first dance song to be, and a few hours later he called her to help her find her phone and her ringtone for him was that song (in my mind it is timeless by ts but you decide)

she had so much trouble showing jameson just how much she loved him at first, so she would write him letters telling him her feelings, jameson then incorporated some of the things ave wrote in the letters into his wedding vows (she also included some of things he said in his love confession in tfg in her vows (they both started sobbing and no one else knew why))

avery and jamie make each other scrapbooks about things they do together

jameson goes up randomly to ave and takes a 0.5 of her, that photo then becomes his lock screen for the day

whenever the song call me maybe comes on, jamie SCREAMS that song to ave no matter if they are in public or not

they watch disney movies and go to the parks together all the time

sometimes when it rains, they go to a secluded part of the estate and slow dance

they once got food poisoning together from a 3:00 am taco bell run and they held each other while the other threw up

when they were still in school, jamie did theatre and avery was the assistant director just so she could watch jamie preform. he also had to stage kiss and almost dropped out because he felt like he was cheating on ave. she assured him it was fine

jameson once did avery’s makeup and hair and it looked so good people thought it was professionally done

once ave asked jameson what she should get done to her nails, and he responded with something like “rounded square nude french tips” and she just sat there like “how the hell does he know that”

when jamie gives avery one of his jackets, he always pretends like he’s not cold and ave finds it adorable

jamie was once on avery’s phone and read some of the texts she sent max about him (like her absolutely thirsting for him) and he was so surprised because it was a major flip from her usual self

he always opens car doors and pulls out ave’s seat

like i said in my last hc post about them being theatre kids and dressing up like eliza and ham for halloween, he was posting stuff the whole night like “my life is going fine because elliza is in it” and she was posting stuff like “he better say no to this” while he looked over at another girl in a red dress (everyone thought it was adorable and hilarious)

jameson can sketch and draw pretty well, and ave can paint, so they once made a custom chess board

no matter if they admit it or not, they cannot sleep without each other. like if the other is out working late or sum, the one in bed cannot fall asleep.

jamie loves braiding avery’s hair and he even watches tutorials on how to make complex braids so her looks unique. when people ask who/how she did her hair, she responds with an excited “oh! it was jamie, hes the best!” and he just smiles proudly.

they make up very complicated yet super cute handshakes that they do often

they once made a tiktok of them singing promiscuous and the fans went BALLISTIC

avery once waxed jameson’s eyebrows and gave him acrylic nails for fun (he looked absolutely fabulous)

i really hope you liked theseee! please let me know how i can improve. also my inbox is open if you have any requests or recommendations. thank you so much!

#the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #jameson hawthorne #averyjameson #avery grambs #headcanon

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tillthelandslide · 11 months

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Go Get Your Man - Ross Macdonald One Shot

A/n: welcome to something that randomly got stuck in my head after watching that Livestream... Now I'm not going to talk about Finsbury too much because it hurts too much because I really wanted to be there but the tickets should out in like seconds.... Buttttt I wrote this (not to do with Finsbury but that show just had ideas boiling, mainly because I realised I love Matty but like NEEEED Ross). I mainly wrote this as it perfectly describes how I feel about Matty and Ross. Anyway rant over, enjoy or not. Love you regardless - L p.s I have not proofread this so heads up

The house is loud, far too loud for her liking and despite the demands from her friend for people to smoke outside, a cloud drifted through the room, smoke visible in the air. The music was still audible over the voices of everyone in the room.

She's sporting the same glass of champagne as when she arrived, constantly being pulled left right and centre by people who wanted to talk to her.

The party was thrown on her behalf by her good friend Amber. They were celebrating the release of her new album (which she found a bit silly considering Japanese house had just released their own album too).

She was insistent at first "why can't we celebrate you too amber?" She asks and she remembers the eye roll her friend gave her before she went on about how "you know id hate that... That's not me... Besides I want to celebrate you".

She was worried at first when she arrived, knowing a certain someone would be here. She wasn't worried about seeing him, more worried about what he would say, afraid of upsetting him or making him angry.

She felt overwhelmed at one point, excusing herself from the conversation and walking outside, lighting a cigarette as soon as she steps through the doors.

"Still smoking I see?" She hears behind her, recognising the voice and almost immediately turning around and seeing a tall man, hair tied back in a bun, adorning a pair of black slacks, a black button up shirt, of which the top two were undone and a jacket.

"Ross... You came" she says, smiling a huge wide smile. She drops her cigarette instantly, walking over to the tall man, wrapping her arms around him and sighing into his chest.

"Wouldn't miss celebrating you for the world" he says, smiling a wide one which matches his. He missed having her in his arms. Now I know what you're probably thinking, but they were not in fact together. She pulls back, smiling up at him before her face drops.

"Weren't you guys at Finsbury... Like literally yesterday... And then Sweden before that?" She asks and he nods down at her.

"You must be shattered..." He doesn't let go of her just yet, still holding her in his arms.

"As I said... Wouldn't miss celebrating you for the world" he says, making her heart flutter, her eyes glinting with sheer happiness.

"sorry I wasn't there yesterday... I wanted to be... To support you... And g... And Hann and amber and everyone... Just didn't know if I'd be welcomed you know?" She asks and Ross nods, understanding completely.

"He would've been fine y'know?" Ross asks, the pin finally dropping.

"Really? I haven't seen him... At all to be honest since everything went down" she says and Ross sighs.

"You didn't do anything wrong..." He says and she nods.

"I know... But... We broke up a long time ago but... I promised I'd still see him and then I didn't... And then I still saw you and G and the rest and .... I dunno, just kind felt like a bitch" she admits and Ross nods.

"Well he came tonight... So you can't be that much of a bitch" he says and she laughs.

"oh thanks" she jokes making him chuckle. They finally pull away from each other (much to his dismay).

Ross' hand presses against her lower back, leading her back into the room and she immediately spots him, his curls tamed by gel, dressed in black suit trousers and a white button down shirt, standing with their friends. George smiles and waves at her as she sees her, drawing Matty's attention to her too. She's surprised to see that he smiles widely too, the conversation the group were having, immediately halted.

"There's the woman we've all been waiting for" George says as she draws closer. Ross' hand drops and she feels sad that it does, it leaves a tingly sensation in it's wake and that alone makes her breath falter and her head turn to check he was still there.

"Hello G" she says as she turns back to the group, the tall man pulling her into a tight hug.

"Oh I missed you" he says, squeezing her, her face being squished into his chest. She mumbles a "missed you too" before they pull away.

Hann is next to hug her saying a simple "really good to see you. Missed you. Congrats on the album" before Carly hugs her and then Charli and then she's face to face with Matty.

"Hello stranger" he says, but she smiles when there's no sense of bitterness in his words. He pulls her towards him and the two hug tightly. She thought it would feel weird to be in his embrace again but she just feels comfortable.

"Missed you" he admits and she smiles, closing her eyes she breathes him in for the first time in years.

"Yeah... Missed you too" she admits. They pull away and she feels herself get teary.

"seriously guys you really didn't have to come... You must all be so tired" she says, referring to the events of the previous days.

"We wouldn't miss it" she hears Matty say and she smiles at him. The group then get talking, catching up on everything that had been going on in each other lives. Of course she knew about parts of it, having still been seeing the guys and their partners when she could.

She goes for another cigarette at some point, leaning against the balcony, she hears the door open behind her and once again Ross is at her side.

"You look beautiful tonight by the way" he says as he stands next to her, placing a hand at her lower back again. She turns her body slightly so she's open to him, her waist pressing against his side.

"Thank you Macdonald..." She adorns a black dress which has a criss cross back and a cowl neck front, she wears boots as always. His hand is pressed against the crosses, the warmth of it radiating her bare skin making her shiver, realising how cold she was. His hand disappears for a moment and he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders. She leans her head into him, which with the height difference leaves her leaning against his arm.

"Really missed you, you know" he says and she lifts her head slightly, eyes finding his soft brown ones. She sees immediately that he's sincere.

During the time Matty and her dated, her and Ross became very close, the closest out of any of Matty's friends, which was saying something because they all adored her. Ross was her go to person when Matty was being a bit mean or withdrawn. Looking back everyone is aware of why that was but at the time no one quite understood.

Ross found himself often angry at his friend for treating her the way he did, he knew Matty was fighting his own demons but Ross believed she deserved better, better than even he could give her.

"I really missed you too... When was the last time we saw each other... Seems like ages ago now" she says, trying to think back to when it was.

"the week of the London show? We went for ice cream and looked in that hidden record shop" he says and she smiles at the memory.

"oh yeah, you bought my album... 4 months is an awfully long time to go without you macdonald" she says and he smiles down at her.

"Won't happen again, I promise" she feels hopeful at that.

They then begin talking about all sorts, laughing at old memories. She jokes with him and teases him about this and that.

"The ross girlies were going absolutely feral for you yesterday... Finally giving them what they wanted when you let that hair loose" she says, they had somehow gotten even closer, her back was against the railing of the balcony and he had his hands either side of her. Her hands were resting against his collar. They didn't know how they got themselves into this position and she wishes she could pull herself away from it, not because she wanted to but because she felt guilty. He was her ex boyfriend's best friend, but he was also more than that, he was her best friend too, her go to person, her safety net, her comfort blanket, the person who in recent years had been the reson her soul was alight and she secretly wanted him to become ever more.

"You're ridiculous" he laughs, shaking his head down at her.

"Dunno Ross... I'd have to agree with them on this one... You looked good" she admits and he smirks down at her, one hand leaving the balcony to rest against her waist. His eyes scan her features, a shit eating smile pulling at his lips, cheeks and eyes creasing and the dimple she had missed a little too much making an appearance.

"I'm interested in you" he admits, and her smile drops. She scans his features now, trying to make sure he was deadly serious. She thinks it's an odd way to word it but it's appropriate for the circumstances. Saying he liked her would be too obvious, saying he loved her (although the truth) would be telling too much too soon and he truly couldn't think of another way to say it.

"Ross... We can't" she says, hands dropping from his collar , her stomach and heart sinking.

"Matty knows...." He says, the words leaving his mouth before he even had time to process them.

"Know what exactly? What is there to know?" She asks and it was a genuine question. Sure they flirted, spoke for hours on end after shoes, shared things that couples shared but neither of them had made their intentions obvious or clear.

"That I like you... That I've always liked you" he admits and she opens her mouth at the confession,lost for words for a second.

"liked you before he did... Before you even got together" he says. Amber had known Matty for years and she had introduced her to the group several years ago, she then became friends with the group so this piece of news was particularly shocking for her.

Matty was always flirty but at the beginning they were just friends, she did actually fancy Ross but she didn't think he liked her back. Matty started showing interest and she found herself falling for him, one thing led to another and they started dating. Never did she know that Ross had a thing for her.

"And Matty knew that?" She asks and Ross nods.

"That prick" she chuckles, hands finding his shoulders again.

"Yeah what a prick..." Ross says making both of them laugh "Na I'm joking... Wouldn't have changed anything if he didn't try with you and would you have wanted it to?" He asks and she ponders his question.

"Na you're right... I loved him" she says, no sadness, no reminiscence to her words, just the truth.

"Exactly..." Ross says.

"I did fancy you though" she says and he laughs.

"Fuck off... As if" he says, pulling away slightly before she pulls him back.

"I did!" She says raising her eyebrows at him "ask Amber if you don't believe me"

"Na I don't need to... I believe you" he says and they stare at each other for a bit, neither knowing what to say or do.

"Always wondered why it didn't work out with Matty.... Don't get me wrong, it was amazing, I loved that man so much... something always felt off though" she admits and Ross nods.

"Matty said the same thing... Sorry if that's a dick thing to say" he says and she shakes her head.

"Na don't worry... He told me" she says and that makes Ross raise his eyebrows.

"He called me once, last year... Drunk... Said he was sorry that he couldn't love me the way I deserved back then but he did love me... Said that it never felt quite right and that I was meant for someone else" she explains and Ross nods.

"So Matty knows you like me huh?" She asks and Ross nods.

"How did that conversation come about?" She asks and Ross chuckles, sighs and then begins to speak.

"Remember that night you called me on tour... Think we were in... America? Somewhere in America. You called and you just started singing these lyrics and i was thinking... Why is she calling me and singing? And then I realised that you were running the lyrics by me and I thought... You know what? I always wanna be the person you run lyrics by" he admits and she smiles at that, heart fluttering.

"I got off the phone to you and we were about to go on stage and I had this huge smile on my face... And Matty knew we were still friends at this point but he asked me why I was smiling so much and for some reason I couldn't tell him" he sighs, her grip on his shoulders tightens slightly before she eases her hold.

"And then this really good mood was just ruined and I was in a shit mood the whole show and then the next day and I was being so grumpy and tetchy with everyone and Matty just sat me down at one point and was just like man what the fuck is up with you and I just... I spilled. Everything" he explains. She could listen to him talk for hours and often did. He'd call her on tour or she's call him on the road or in a studio somewhere and they'd talk for hours until eventually they'd have to go to bed.

"What did Matty say?" She asks, but as she does, the door is opening and Ambers face is peering round the corner.

"sorry to interrupt... We want you back in here if that's okay... Your manager wants to say a few words" she says, not before raising her eyebrows at the two of them. Ross peels himself away from her, entering to room, leaving amber and her on the balcony.

"You look good together" Amber says before she leaves too.

She sighs before following behind them, everyone in the room cheers as she enters and her manager does a speech, everyone raising their glasses.

"Thank you... And don't forget to stream the album" she says making everyone laugh.

She drinks with a few of her friends, eyes always managing to find Ross'. She's back on the balcony soon enough, this time the door opens and Matty is revealed.

"You've been out here a lot today" he observes as he comes to stand next to her and she nods.

"Feeling a bit overwhelmed?" He asks and she nods again, taking a puff of her cigarette.

"But also look at that view" she says, gesturing Infront of her. They can see most of London from where they stand, the lights twinkling as the sun sets, casting hewes of orange and pink over the skyline.

"You always loved a good view" he says and she smiles at him. After all this time, he still managed to see right through her.

"I did... I do, that hasn't changed" She says, looking back out over the skyline. His eyes hover over her features, her eyes, the beautiful green ones that used to make his heart flutter were glistening in the sunlight, her lips turned up into a smile, painted a nude colour, different from when they were together. Her hair was longer and was in loose curls, she had her nose pierced now, that was new. She had a fair new more tattoos, and he smiles as he slots her box tattoo, directly opposite his. He remembers the day the band begged her to get it. She had changed in some ways: she was more confident, happier. But in some ways she was exactly the same.

"You look lovely" he says and she smiles, not look at him.

"I'm really proud of you" he says, noticing that she's wearing Ross' jacket, something that makes him smile.

"Thank you matty... I'm proud of you too, you guys are smashing it still"

They're silent for a few moments, the both of them staring at the view.

"So Ross tells me he had a thing for me before you" she says, thinking it's better to just come out with it rather than tip toe around it.

"Yeah... Still feel awful for that... Didn't mean for it to happen... You kind of just captivated me" he admits and she can't help but blush. Matty always had a way with words and although they don't make her heart flutter anymore, she still feels privileged that they're directed towards her.

"Wouldn't change it though right?" She asks, properly looking at him now. His hair had sprouted some grey's and he looked more mature than when they were together but he was still the same old Matty.

"Never" he says and it makes her smile.

"Only thing I'd change is the way I treated you..." He says, fiddling with his thumbs.

"I wouldn't" she admits and it confuses him.

"You were an arsehole sometimes sure.... But you were also the best boyfriend I had ever had... I broke up with you not because of the way you treated me when you were going through hell but because it wasn't right... For either of us" she admits and he nods agreeing with her.

"Think Ross is right for you?" He asks and she shrugs.

"I don't know... But I want to see" she says "would you be alright with that? Won't hate me for it?" She asks, turning her body so she's fully facing him. She looks sad and scared she'll hurt him and it reminds him of the days when they used to fight.

"Of course not. Could never hate you' he says and he can't help but pull her towards him.

"I think he's right for you... That man will love you exactly the way you deserve that's for sure" he says as he hugs her. She pulls back to look at him and her hand finds his face. It doesn't tingle like it used to, electricity doesn't strike as she holds him, her hand is soft and instead he feels a dull buzz, not completely fizzled out (both of them knew it never fully would). He can't deny it feels nostalgic and comfortable though.

"Thank you Matty. Really... Thank you" she says and he smiles.

"I'll always love you. You know that right?" He asks and she nods. She would always love him too, not in the way they once did, but they'd always have a piece of there souls entertwined.

"Now go get your man" he says making her chuckle. They share a look and Matty leans down to place a gentle kiss against her lips. A farewell, a thank you, an "Ive missed you", a platonic kiss. They wouldn't ever be able to describe why they needed it, maybe it was years of not seeing each other, maybe it was closure.

She leaves him to finish his cigarette, a huge smile resting against her face as she finds Ross, who smiles down at her as she comes to stand next to him.

His hand finds her waist as she tugs him towards her, making him tumble into her hold.

"You okay?" He asks and she nods. The people who he was having a conversation with were looking at the pair of them, almost expecting something to happen.

"Kiss me" she says and he smirks down at her.

"Right here? In front of everyone?" He asks, looking around the room, but he knew as soon as she said, he'd be leaning down to her.

"right here" she confirms, sighing a blissful sigh when his strong hand grasps her jaw lightly, leaning down towards her slowly. His lips hover over hers and she closes the gap by standing on her tip toes ,lips now flush against each other. His were soft and full against hers, the kiss was firm but undeniably soft, she felt him against every fiber of her being. The whole room seemed to be silent and all she could focus on was him.

She didn't notice their friends cheering them on, or the fact Matty was smiling at the two of them. She just felt Ross pull her closer to him, his hand holding her face gently as his other hand hooked around her waist, practically pulling her off the ground. She notices the way his lips move against hers, taking in her bottom lip, tongue peeking out to run across it before he's fully pulling away, their foreheads touching.

"I've been wanting to do that ever since I met you" Ross says, pressing another peck against her mouth.

"Me too"

"What changed?" He asks and she pulls away, turning to find Matty. Ross sees him, sees the way he smiles at them, raising his glass towards them.

"Thank you" Ross mouths to him before she turns back to him and she's caught his attention again.

"What did he say?" Ross asks and she smiles.

"Nothing I didn't already know" she says, pulling him back to her, their lips meeting again in another passionate kiss.

Note: I'm well aware this will probably get 0 notes but I dunno... This fic makes my soul happy and I love it so please reblog if you love it too, it would mean the world to me.

#ross macdonald #ross macdonald x oc #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fanfic #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy #the 1975 #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fan fiction

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