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#the rest of the drawings were honestly me trying to get a grasp on how to draw them
klartzzie · 1 year
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Some Teen Wolf wips and doodles that I have
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Mainly Theo and Liam, shocking:’)
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mayearies · 8 months
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… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱
❛ KISSIN YOU CRAZY ❜
miles morales
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˚ʚ property of ©hiimayee ɞ˚
genre: suggestive | warnings: miles ooc, kissing, spanish translations: desea averiguarlo? / you want to find out? authors input: i wanted to make more borderline cocky miles i miss it also i cant fucking find graphics for stories anymore im actually gonna start shitting myself also ik i cant write kissing scenes dont rn
summary: turns out miles is a really good kisser
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱
miles liked anything to do with your body, believe it or not. he would get the most out of cuddling with you, kissing you, or just simply holding your hand. but he had a tendency to ask one thing any time he would sit down:
“can you come sit on my lap?”
sometimes he wouldnt even ask. he would just pull you on top of him or give you a pleading stare. he honestly wouldnt pay much attention to you. he would just want you close to him. if you wanted to talk to him, he would be down for that always. hell, he would drop what he’s doing and turn his attention to you any day of the week.
wanna guess how you got here? yeah, he just led you to his desk and placed you on top of him so he could draw. take it as you’re a stuffed animal he wouldn’t want to misplace.
but stuffed animals have feelings too. he didn’t say a word to you. he just rested his head over your shoulder as his finger danced on your thigh in a rhythm, the one matching his headphones. you didnt like being ignored while in this state. you couldnt even get off him.
you bit your cheek as your face held an expression of annoyance. “miles?”
he didnt answer. but you knew he heard you since the tapping on your thigh slowed down and the sound of markers against the paper increased. he liked teasing you like this. and you knew just the way to break him: neck kisses!
he was an absolute sucker for kisses in general. his forehead and his neck were his favorite places for you to kiss. everytime you would, he would giggle a little bit before breaking, “what? what’s up, darling?”
“you never look at me even after i do this for you!” “mmm? do you want something?”“a kiss would be nice. all you give is cheap forehead kisses.”
miles directed his eyes to yours. soon leaving to look at your lips which were lightly glazed with lipgloss. he held a playful smirk before looking back up at your face. “hm. cheap kisses, huh?”
“i bet you aren’t even that good of a kisser, miles.” “hah. desea averiguarlo, mami?”
oh wow. you didnt expect that. or this. despite your continuous reminders for him to put on chapstick, his lips were really soft and smooth. even smoother with your lipgloss on it.
the thing is, miles has never kissed you like this before. he would give you longing kisses like this anywhere but your lips. you thought he did it because he was nervous. turns out he was, but had just played it off cool. but he pulled all the right strings first try.
something about his hand stroking your thigh lightly, the biting of your lip as your lips danced with one another did something for you. i mean, as it should.
pulling away with a playful smirk, he leaned into your ear. “so? did you find out or do i gotta demonstrate again? you got enough attention for the hour now?”
you playfully rolled your eyes as you slipped from his grasp to go sit on the couch and turn on a movie leaving miles stunned a little. nonetheless, he followed you. snuggling against your chest as he pulled you into his lap once more. “what we watchin’, missy?”
“missing.” “ohhh.. y’know what’s really missing?” “..what?” “your last name changed to ‘morales’.”“stop using those jokes you got from peter. just because he got to keep mj with them doesn’t mean you’ll get to keep me.” “yes ma’am.”
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©hiimayee
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tootiecakes234 · 5 months
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Sanji x reader
(You come back from a mission injured. )
You come back to Sanji after you two were on two separate assignments. Initially you’re facing away from him so he’s just relieved that you’re safe. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your front.
“My beautiful one and only. I’m so happy to see you safe.” Words mumbled because His face is nuzzled up into your neck and he’s breathing in the scent of you. Even though you’re sweaty and gross, you’re his favorite scent in the entire world and that includes his cooking.
“Are you tired?? When we get back to the ship I’ll run you a nice bath yea??” Mind you he says all this in almost a sing song voice.
Normally you would be just as excited as he was, but you know. You know the time he sees your injury he’s going to 1000% flip his shit and you were trying to postpone the inevitable as long as possible.
When Sanji finally looked up he saw the strange looks the rest of the crew was giving and he was confused.
“What the hell are you idiots looking at? Why do you assholes look guilty?”
“Hey you guys can I have a moment alone with Sanji please?”
They all excused themselves and set off very swiftly because they knew the shit storm was a brewing.
He starts pulling his arms from around you but you quickly grab them and hold him still.
“Babe, can you promise me something??”, you whisper in the most even tone you can manage.
“Of course. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” And his arms tighten around you.
“Ok, remember. You’re a man of your word. Promise me you won’t freak out” You start to slowly pull away.
“Why would I-“
“Just promise me ok?”
“I promise me sweet.” And he chuckles a little at how weird you’re being.
The twirl you do around is so achingly slow but Sanji is nothing if not patient with you.
When you finally catch his eye, you see the smile morph on his face.
He is livid. infuriated. No there has to be a word that means “ready to burn down the fucking world and everyone and everything in it!”
“Who! Had! The Goddamn Nerve! To Touch you?!?”
“Saaannjii, baby. It’s fine. I promise you. It’s just a scratch. Chopper checked it out and he said it wouldn’t even need stitches.” Trying to keep the peace was not working. AT ALL.
“Who!? And where are they now?” He was seething.
You could feel hellfire coming off him.
The laceration was a long one coming up from your clavicle and wrapping up right under your chin, but it wasn’t deep. You had managed to dodge most of it.
“Theyre dead and gone. He only got the one chance. I promise, I’m ok. Everyone is ok and safe. So can you breathe?? Cuz I don’t think you’re breathing…”
“Where the hell was everyone when you were nearly KILLED?!”
“Trying to avoid dying themselves. I’m not some damsel in distress, even though I know that’s how you see me.” You had started to get a little testy but you had to remind yourself, he honestly just loved you way too much to be faced with a situation where you could’ve been taken from him.
You slowly get a little closer to him and reach out to grasp his hand, and honestly that touch did more for him than any of your words did.
His shoulders sagged just the slightest amount and you heard him draw in a sharp breath.
“I know you’re upset, you have every right to be, but I’m right here.” You said with all the love you could muster and lifted your other hand to wrap around the back of his neck and scratch at the back of his head.
Another breath and now his eyes were starting to soften.
You smile up at him and that sets his heart back to thumping at the inconsistent speed it always does when you look at him like that.
Next thing you know you’re being pulled into his arms and squeezed to the point where it’s almost taking your breath away.
You don’t realize he’s crying until you feel dampness from where he’s again tucked his head down into your neck.
His words come out all mumbled, “I can’t l-lose you. I truly fucking can’t… you- you’re the only reason my heart beats. The only thing that gives me the strength to draw another breath. I love you. I love you.”
And now you’re crying because damn. This man is everything to you, and the fact that he never fails to make sure you know how he feels the same way if not stronger…. Your heart is just so full.
“I love you too Sanji. And I’m never leaving… you’re stuck with me forever and ever and ever.”
When he pulls back his eyes are all red and puffy.
“You mean it?” His voice sounds all groggy now, like he just woke up. But also bright, like morning sunshine.
“Of course I mean it. You and me always.” You give him a small genuine smile.
“Then marry me…”
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phonydiaries · 7 months
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Beautiful Dreamer - P x Reader
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Notes: This is a bit of a shorter fic from me and it's pure unadulterated fluff and sap and nobody gets stabbed! Which is really stretching myself as a writer, to be honest. You guys know I love nothing more than a good life-threatening injury. Anyways, no warnings for this one! Enjoy the cozy vibes <3 
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It seemed somewhat magical in the beginning. 
Pino came running to you once, at the very break of dawn when you had just barely opened your eyes; too-bright sunlight stinging them as the puppet shook you from sleep. It was difficult for you to grasp what he meant, at first, to wrap your head around what he was trying to describe. His speechless manner of communication and your general grogginess certainly didn’t help matters. But through a series of signs and expressions from Pinocchio, you came to understand. In his slow but sure gaining of humanity the boy had begun to dream at night. 
You were vaguely aware that he did not dream before, and didn’t exactly sleep in the way humans did (although he did something similar enough that you personally couldn’t tell the difference). 
“Is it… pleasant?” You asked him, genuinely quite curious as to what a strange thing dreams must seem to someone who had never known them. It had the potential to be wondrous and peaceful, but at the same overwhelming and utterly confusing. P seemed to take your question into careful consideration, really mulling it over. His eyes shone bright as he finally nodded decisively. 
For all his excitement over this newfound ability, Pinocchio was frankly dreadful in his attempts at describing his dreams to you. You tried earnestly to follow along, but his gestures and expressions would eventually become too complicated and frenetic for you to follow and so you found yourself utterly lost in his recollections. It was after one such frustrating night that you gifted him a pocket journal to write in. This was much preferred for both of you, and you came to enjoy the routine of him eagerly handing off his scribblings for you to interpret in the morning. You would sit elbow to elbow at the table, sipping morning tea and reading his writing aloud, while he listened and nodded along captivated, his chin resting over his hands on the table. 
His writing was uncharacteristically scratchy, with words often misspelled or crossed out implying that he was simply transcribing for speed and not coherence. Now and then there would be an addition of a crude drawing, sometimes the vague outline of a rabbit or a rushed impression of beaming stars. 
One day, when it was particularly gloomy, you and Pino wandered to the library. Silence between the two of you was not uncommon, nor was it in any way awkward or uncomfortable. With the heavy fall of rain against the roof on this day, you found the quiet between the shelves especially peaceful. By the orange glow of a lantern, you turned the pages of a dream-interpretation guide. It was a small and somewhat battered thing and had been picked up eagerly by Pinocchio of course, who sat on the floor with crossed legs, chin resting in the heels of his hands as he listened to you, enthralled. In hushed tones, you ran down bulleted lists of common dreams and all the cryptic mysteries they may contain. 
“Here, how about this one, have you ever dreamed that your teeth were falling out?” You asked, pointing to a passage in the book. P slapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head vigorously, looking suddenly very concerned with keeping said teeth firmly in his mouth. You couldn’t help chucking as you turned the page. 
The day wore on, and the oil in your lantern burned down to nothing, the dim light flickering across an eerie illustration. You’d been leafing through an art book of the romantic era painters and left off on a Fuseli painting of a tormented woman being peered upon unknowingly by some manner of devil. You found the page quite off putting honestly, and closed the book. 
“I figure that’s enough of that. What do you say, Pino-oh.” 
As you addressed your puppet companion in the dark, you came to see that he sat on the floor still, slumped against the foot of your chair. His cheek was sunk into his left shoulder, eyes shut, breathing soft and shallow. The serenity of the scene warmed your heart some, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Pino…” you whispered, and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to wake him. But he didn’t stir, seemingly in a deep sleep. You were sorry for the uncomfortable condition he seemed to be posed in, but you didn’t want to disturb the poor puppet. You gathered your things and left quietly, shuffling off to your quarters. 
It was around midnight that the puppet woke with a panicked gasp. He was surprised to find his legion arm held up defensively, as if in anticipation of an invisible attack. His eyes searched his surroundings frantically, and only when he recognized the library did he hesitantly lower his arm. In the darkness he felt quite uneasy and disoriented. He tried to recall your soothing hushed voice. It had put him into quite a state it seemed before he eventually drifted off. It was in stark contrast to the current thrumming of his mechanical heart and the uncomfortable quickness of his breaths. He had dreamed something wholly unpleasant, and with some sadness realized this new facet of humanity came with drawbacks. He did not care much for these dreams at all.
Pinocchio made his way down the corridor to your quarters, his steps echoing eerily. He threw pointed glances over his shoulder frequently, half expecting some monstrous creature to appear suddenly in the halls of Hotel Krat. The simple casting of shadows had never before made him so on-edge. When he reached your room, he opened the door slowly and peered inside. You lay there in the dark beneath silk sheets, curled in on yourself and sleeping soundly. With great care not to startle you, he knelt by your bedside and nudged you in the back. Your head flinched momentarily, but you otherwise remained still. With some urgency he took your shoulder and shook until you stirred. Rubbing your eyes wearily, you rolled over to face him. 
“Pino, it’s ah…it’s late isn’t it? Can’t it wait til morning..?” You grumbled. He shook his head almost apologetically and squeezed your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you were able to make out unfamiliar anxious creases in his expression. You willed yourself into a greater awareness and sat up promptly. “What is it, what’s wrong?” You asked, your tone softening significantly. P gestured in the direction of the library and rummaged around in his pocket for a moment. He retrieved the pocket journal you’d given him and pointed several times at the most recent entry. You squinted. On the left page he had simply blacked out the entire thing with a pen, and on the right page the phrase “strung up” was written several frantic times with increasing disregard for legibility. 
When you looked up at him to clarify, he raised his hands limp above his head and dropped his chin to his chest. The image was admittedly shuddersome and he cast a long and spindly shadow across the wall. 
“I see.” You said, closing the journal. “You had a nightmare, hm? All strung up like an ordinary puppet.” Your heart fell for the poor boy. It must’ve been terribly frightening for him. 
Pinocchio nodded solemnly, not meeting your eyes. He stared off blankly and rubbed his wrists, as if easing a phantom feeling of restraints. You took note of this and hummed softly. 
“Here, may I see?” You asked, and pulled his arm towards you. You made a show of inspecting it and tapping your chin thoughtfully. Holding his arm with one hand, you stuck up two fingers like a pair of scissors and pretended to snip the invisible puppet string. You repeated this mimic on his other arm and then took his hands in yours, placing a kiss on the back of each. 
“All gone.” 
Pinocchio looked at you with a kind of boyish wonder. He raised one fist to the crown of his head with a smile, making a  pshhh sound and opening his hand, giving the impression of a miniature explosion.
“Think you’ll be alright for the rest of the night?”
At this he shifted a little. His fingers busied themselves, twisting in the bedsheets. He was obviously still shaken up somewhat. You could understand that, although it was a bit of a surprise to learn that someone so nearly indestructible could be afraid of the dark. 
“Alright,” you sighed, lifting the sheets. “Get in here.” 
P’s chin jutted forward and his brow furrowed at your offer. You just gestured to the space beside you with your head. “Go on, before I change my mind.” You teased. At this, Pinocchio clambered up into your bed and nuzzled his face into the pillow. As he got settled. You pulled the sheet over his shoulders and snaked your arm up around him from behind. Your nose pressed against the nape of his neck and you breathed in the smell of him, like fresh rain. 
“Have no fear, my puppet.” You said sleepily against his skin. “Your trusty human won’t let anything steal you away from me in the night.” You heard him snicker at this, but you knew without a doubt he felt safer here with you and vice versa. It was sweet, really. 
By the time the sun rose you were both still sound asleep, all tangled in each other’s limbs, looking like lovers in the warm morning light. The day could wait a little longer. 
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cafecourage · 2 months
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Little Red Riding Hood where Reader is Little Red but also a werewolf
Love Interest and rest of chain can be assigned however
(Cause I'm always down for a fairytale au)
I did a little twist on this. Idk if this was what you wanted. I had to ask doggo experts for how doggos act around each other. I am leaving this off on a small cliff hanger because I do want to write more of this.
Twilight didn’t trust the new person in the group. Well. It’s more like he didn’t know what to think of her. She came in like a hurricane running after the Shadow like it was her prey. Then when the dust settled and she calmed down the group quickly learned of why. The short of it being that for some reason the Shadow attacked her brother and she took chase. Which then led to her to finally agree to join the chain. Much to the Ranchers chagrin. However, he knows better than to start an unnecessary fight. Twilight could be civil.
Civility could only go so far.
Little Red, as Warrior’s likes to call her, noticed Twilight’s presence and slight unease of her and ran with it. Twilight couldn’t understand just why she was always running circles around him talking about this and that. It confused him to no end when she instantly would stick to him even when he was wolfie. He had to on more then one occasion threaten to bite Little Red’s hands. She never cared or backed away from Wolfie when he showed a bit of aggression. “He is going to bite you.” Wild warned her as he watched Little Red try to play with Wolfie.
She looked up at Wild while holding Wolfie’s face, “what? No the baby is just playing.” That comment only made Twilight growl more.
“Baby? Wolfie isn’t a baby.” Wild was torn between being completely amuse and helping Twilight out as he did know about his slight distrust of Little Red.
“No no no, Champion. This is a wolf pup. He has to be like…” Her attention draws to the wolf as she observes the good boy. “Man… I have to say maybe 10? He is very small even for that age. Wolfie is like an adult dog size but he is definitely a wolf.” She boops the snoot and quickly pulled back as Twilight tries to bite her hand again. This only makes her giggle more.
“I think your wolves might be just bigger than my Hyrules.” Honestly to Wild, Wolfie was the same size as most wolves, but he just shrugs and not questions that further. Twilight couldn’t understand why you were like this, he wonders if it was just an eccentric thing. He has met a lot of weird people in his life and Little Red might be one of them. After being free from your grasp he takes it upon himself to run away for now. Only because you don’t tend to grab his face while being Twilight and thats the most annoying part of being wolfie around you.
It wasn’t until they finally came to her era that he finally understood.
The village Little Red lived in was small, but cozy. It reminded Twilight of his own home. People tended to light up when seeing Little Red. But given the size of the group following them most villagers tended to just say hi and remarks that they needed to talk to her later. “My house is a bit further.” Little red said pointing to a path that ran into the woods. “It’s just me, my brother and Grandma oh and our cat. I’ll make sure to keep her out of your stuff. But we should have room to fit everyone.” She explains as the path slowly clears up to a cottage in the wood with a small garden. There was a small pup running around in the yard playing with said cat. Who was purely annoyed at ready to pap the puppy in the head.
Little Red’s eyes brightened “Link!” She calls out gaining the Pups reaction.
She dashes towards the house as the puppy starts running towards her. They meet halfway and the puppy shifts into a young boy. “You’re back! You’re back!” This Link giggles as he gets lifted in the air by his sister and spun around.
“I am! For now.” Little red nuzzles her brother’s face as she shifts her grips on her brother to put his weight on her hip. “Boy’s this is my brother. Link these are the adventurers I’ve been traveling with.”
She turns to the group with a smile. The chain was utterly confused and silent before Wind speaks up “Did he transform into a wolf?”
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daydreaming-en-pointe · 5 months
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A very Spidey Christmas - Gwen
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Pairing: Gwen Stacy x fem!Reader
Word count: 644
Warnings: Use of nicknames (sweets, my love), reader keeps falling but I think that’s it?
A/N: I have never ice-skated in my life, so if anything’s incorrect please don’t hesitate to correct me! <3
MY FAVOURITE GIRL I LOVE HER SO MUCH 💗
quite short bc all my inspiration went into the oneshot of my other gf 😞 (hobie)
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“I don’t get how you do this so easily,” You huffed in frustration after falling yet again on the hard surface of the ice skating rink.
“It just takes practise, sweets. You’ll get it with time.” Gwen effortlessly glided along the ice in circles around you, her skates drawing deliberate, almost perfectly symmetrical shapes.
“I’ve fallen on my ass more times than I can count today. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m the worst out of everyone at this.”
“Well… I never said it would be easy,” She chuckled softly, pausing and reaching down to grasp your hand and help you up. “And come on, you’re definitely not the worst - look at everyone else.”
You spared a glance around for the first time, since you didn’t have to concentrate on keeping your eyes up and focused on one point.
Miles was tumbling everywhere, falling flat on his face at least three times every five minutes. Pavitr was using his yo-yo webshooters to lasso various railings on the opposite end of the rink and pull himself carefully toward them. Hobie had somehow attached the blades - sole and all - of the skates to his giant boots and was happily clomping around in his own world, lifting his feet and not even bothering to attempt skating. Honestly, it was a miracle he hadn’t tripped up and fallen yet.
Margo had dropped out at the last minute and was sitting on one of the benches off to the side, sharing a packet of skittles with (the other) Miles and scrolling on her phone.
“Coward!” You called over to her, and she just chuckled. “Just so you know, I’m filming every time you fall! I’ve already got eleven shots for the compilation I’m gonna make!”
You rolled your eyes at her and pointedly tried to turn your back but just ended up rotating slowly on the ice. “You have a point,” You admitted to Gwen, and she tilted her head as if she was considering something.
“Let’s try something new, yeah? Here,” She moved behind you, gently resting her hands on either sides of your waist. “I taught you how to glide, didn’t I? Stroking is similar, just… you extend the movements more so it’s faster, but more difficult. Try gliding, and make it longer this time. I’m right here with you; you won’t fall. Don’t worry.”
You shifted your weight onto your right leg, tentatively placing your left blade on the ice a few inches ahead of the tip of your right skate, then slid your right leg to align with your left. You repeated the motion a few more times, getting used to gliding consistently before lengthening your strides and getting bolder with your speed.
Throughout everything Gwen was right there behind you, faithfully holding onto your waist to steady you, occasionally murmuring words of encouragement whenever you faltered and cheering you on as you sped ahead so she had to rush to keep up with you.
“I’m going to let go, sweets. I think you can do it. Do you still want me to hold you?”
“I think I can do it now…” At your words, she gave a hum of approval and let go of your waist. You flew forward, managing to catch yourself and turn away before you could hit the railing. Gwen smiled fondly, watching your movements carefully.
“See, my love? You’re doing it! Next I’ll teach you how to swizzle, it’ll be easy now that you’ve learnt how to-”
Thud.
She was immediately kneeling at your side, her eyebrows scrunched together in concern. “What happened? You okay?”
Your single look must have been enough to convey the pain you were feeling in your already-sore behind, because her eyes softened and she leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead.
“I’ll get the ice packs from Margo… how about we take a break for a little bit?”
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A swizzle (from what I understand) is the hourglass thing ice skaters keep doing which looks so cool!
@vhstown @l0starl @tatumis-a @deritosmi @therealloopylupin2099 @hobiebrownismygod
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artharakka · 10 months
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Can I ask you where have you found inspiration for your art? For example I've noticed you have a very specific (and beautiful) way you draw jewelry and clothing. The shapes are very organic yet grounded at the same time, give a bit of a Nausicaä vibes, as well as art noveau meets iron age.
Honestly I could go on and on about the beautiful details of your art but I don't want to seem too fangirlish :D
Ohhh thank you I love those comparisons 🧡 Because I didn't even know those are the vibes I was going for but yeah that's great actually... This is like when one of you made a playlist inspired by my art... (I still have that saved btw! 🧡 And I still cannot believe!!). Here's a little Rhiam drawing with some jewelry she doesn't (yet) have in canon (earrings she does have but she cannot use them yet)
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But what are my inspirations hmmmmmmm many! Idk even what all I have inhaled into my art but I try to list something (this got long so rest under cut):
Nature 🌿 I love both mundane (sparrows, plants growing from asphalt cracks, moss covered street signs... the little details) and grand formations that fill me with awe. There's something about things so vast that take my breath away. Like oceans, mountains, high cliffs, endless tundra, wind so strong you could lean against it, ancient stone that has been scraped visible by massive sheets of ice thousands of years ago. (But I'm guilty of not being that impressed by conventional beauty of average gardens. Aren't people tired of only finding planted blooming flowers beautiful!). Most often I'm drawing inspiration from nature familiar to me, that being Nordic/Scandinavian ones.
I already said nature but birds deserve a special mention! Agh I just love those funky little animals 🦅
Stories! I love making stories, I think they help me grasp and go over my thoughts. I love pouring myself into my characters, it makes them feel both personal but also makes it easier to talk about myself to my fellow storytellers. I'd love to do a long graphic novel or write a book one day, but I also love making ttrpg stories just for and with our little group 🧡 For a long time I felt kinda bad that I wasn't doing "real art" that wasn't just illustrations of my characters. But then I realised doing art for arts sake doesn't really inspire me. I don't want to do art that I'd think would be easily consumable nor do I have any great performance to create with my art. I just love to illustrate stories and tell stories through my art and I think that's great! I still love seeing and experiencing artworks that aren't this illustrative, I just don't have the motivation to do that myself. But I can get really excited of works like Emma Jääskeläinen's granite sculptures!
Other artists! There are two categories I think: 1) those whose work I've seen (usually irl) and whose technique or themes or symbolism facinates me. I usually don't want to create similar art, or replicate their style, or medium even. But there's something about them, a feeling of awe or they feel formidable. Or there's something clever about them that lets me have this sense of epiphany. For example, Jääskeläinen who I already mentioned, Marcel Dzama, Merja Palin, Helena Vaari, Marika Mäkelä, to name a few I've seen lately-ish. And then 2) there are artists whose stories and/or style inspires me and influences my art. One of the biggest inspirations to my softer line art style was and is @albabbgg. @serpentface has some really cool worldbuilding and designs, I think they were also a great influence to how I draw bodies these days. @wiltkingart has also very cool shapes and genders in his paintings. @sanctus-ingenium 's stories and art have been a huge inspiration lately. And to list a few others now that I started: @pangur-and-grim/@greer-art, @beidak-art, @elemei, @emilylorange, @pansylair, @cy-lindric, @psrj, @lokorum
And many others I'm probably forgetting now! I also have a side blog @sancta-cessatrix where I occasionally reblog cool art, check tags #art #inspiration
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kxllingangels · 1 year
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Babydoll- H.S.
A/N- Not entirely sure what this is going to become. But, I had an inspiration to write artist and heartbreaker Harry. Enjoy.
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'I can't move on, babydoll.'
It had been six months since the fall out. Six months since the era of Harry and I. I think I always knew what we had wasn't love. It never had been. We were just a product of people with too much love to give and not enough patience to maintain it. If I closed my eyes tightly enough, I could still hear the pattern of rain on our third date. He'd worn a shitty blue button up, stained with mustard from the burgers we ate at Macy's diner downtown. I could still feel his thick palms memorizing the curve of my spine, mapping out each curve and freckle in my back as he pressed a paint covered brush to the skin. Harry had wanted to be an artist since he was a child. He could make even the ugliest scenes look poetic, and he loved to use the human body as his own personal canvas. 
"It's the only place I can wash away my mistakes after I make them." He had whispered, pressing another stripe of cold paint against my skin. At the time, I thought that was beautiful. To be able to give life to his creations, and take it just as quickly.
I realized now, that I was just another thing he'd left behind.
 Harry had always been insatiable. We both knew it, and honestly it was one of the things I loved about him. I admired his drive. I loved the mornings I would find him on the fire escape of our small apartment, paintbrush in hand and globs of acrylic in his hair. His tired eyes always meant he was on the verge of creating something amazing. Back then, I found myself getting lost in the deep yellows and violets that rested beneath those sleepy green irises. I caught myself staring at him for hours as he sat in the kitchen, sketch pad in hand. His eyes would flicker between me and the paper, tongue poised at the front of his teeth as he furiously scribbled. 
"Stop moving!" He would complain each time I shifted. 
I would always respond with, "If you don't want a living canvas, stop drawing me."
His smile was unforgettable whenever I said it, and he'd always say. "I can't help it, you're my muse." 
His muse.
It had sounded so lovely then, but what did it even mean now? What had it meant then? It meant three years of my life with him. Him insisting on eating take-out four times a week. Him only liking to watch the weather channel when it stormed so he'd have something new to paint. Him writing notes in the fog on the bathroom mirror for me to find after a shower. 
And him, leaving without warning on a warm afternoon. Only a note left behind to prove he'd ever been there at all.
I remembered that note well. I kept it on my bedside table, even now. It was the only evidence I had to show that the era of Harry and I ever even happened. I had the swirls of blue ink, the indentions from where he'd pressed too hard memorized by now. It said-
I'm sorry, my darling. How could you ever love a man who is never satisfied? 
He was right. I knew that, but it didn't make the words sting any less. He never could be satisfied because he was insatiable. He was always grasping for the next big thing in his life, and it was clear that it couldn't be me that fulfilled him. He wanted to be an artist, and being an artist to Harry meant that he had to do it alone. So he left. 
I waited two months. Each time there were footsteps near our front door my stomach dropped, praying it was him to come waltzing in as carelessly as he had before. Every time I stepped onto the fire escape, I imagined he'd be there with a paintbrush between his teeth and sleep deprived eyes slathering paint on a portrait of the New York skyline. He never came back. Ever, and he and I began to fade like the seasons.
It was winter now. Most days, I could push the brunette boy to the back of mind and try to go on living. I had thrown myself into work as a waitress during the day at the diner we used to frequent. During the nights, I would bartend at the burlesque club downtown. It was always crowded, especially for small place and it kept me on my toes which was fine by me.  Keeping myself busy kept my thoughts of him at bay and that kept me sane. So I ran orders and made drinks and occasionally flirted with a table or two to make some extra cash. It wasn't my end goal, but it was my now and honestly, I liked the routine. 
Something was different tonight though. I could tell it by the way Maren was staring at me. She had that nervous grin that people get when they're about to tell you that your dog went to live on a farm a few hours away, or that they accidentally donated your favorite T-shirt. "You're anxious." I remarked coolly, placing an empty serving tray down behind the bar. 
"No I'm not!" Maren offered quickly. Too quickly.
"Mare…" I said in a warning tone. She was making me nervous. Had she accidentally spilled the expensive vodka again? Was that creep from last Wednesday hanging out by the bathrooms again? 
My eyes turned to face the redhead. Her cheeks were pink like she'd just run a marathon or seen something she wasn't supposed to. "Spill." I said, my eyes not being able to catch her brown ones.
"Okay, so before you freak out-" She rushed out. Great. Nobody starts a sentence with 'before you freak out',  unless they're absolutely certain that you're about to. My ears perked back up at what she was saying when I heard her mention a him.
"Him?" I questioned, eyebrows furrowed. "Who's him?" 
Maren rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Ro-ry, I just said I don't know."
Ro-ry.
That's how she always said my name when she thought I said something stupid, which was a lot. "Anyway!" She continued, leaning over me and filling a few shots glasses with tequila before sliding them across the bar. 
I looked over to see a gaggle of guys donning baby blue shirts. All of them read, "Ben's last night of freedom!" in big blocky letters. 
"So this mystery guy comes in, asks me if you still work here, and then hands me this." She slid her hand beneath the bar, fishing out a small package. It had brown packaging and a string tied in a knot around it. 
"What is it?" I asked, taking the package as she thrust it at me. 
Maren rolled her eyes again. "I don't know," She said, nodding towards the clearly unopened package. "He specifically asked me not to open it since it's for you." She turned back to another customer, beginning to place a concoction of liquor and juice into the blender.
"He was cute," She offered, "But the whole thing was kind of weird." With that the blender roared to life, canceling out most of the other sounds in the club. I flipped the package over in my hands a few times before untying the knot and peeling back the packaging. 
I was met with a white box, but it wasn't that or the sound of a glass shattering by the bar that made me freeze up and seemed to stop time altogether.
It was the scrawling handwriting in blue ink that lingered on the face of the box, reading out-
Aurora,
 I can't move on.
You're still my muse.
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beautifulblooms · 2 years
Text
Fighting Together to the End - Eddie Munson x Male!Reader - Part 1
Male! Reader, he/him used, so fuck the canon, it broke my heart, MEGA FUCKING SPOILERS FOR PART TWO OF SEASON FOUR, anyways, fluff, angst, this is pretty much a rewrite of season 4 because I need to recover after the traumatizing events of part 2
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!
Why had it been Eddie who got caught up in all this? He isn’t a bad person, he sells some bad shit but he’s not bad. If Chrissy had just found some other seller at the school it wouldn’t have been an issue. If the town didn’t believe my boyfriend was a freak and a cult leader it would've been better. Granted I’m not in much of a better situation being his boyfriend, firstly it’s Hawkins, secondly we’re gay, need I say more.
Eddie and I hid together after Chrissy got snapped apart in the living room, honestly not surprised his supplier was out by lovers lake. If anything it’s smart, constant sales from teens passing by and it’s secluded enough to not draw attention. Getting discovered by Dustin and the rest of them wasn’t exactly fun, we both nearly killed two of them. In our defense, Steve jabbed Eddie in the face with his oar.
“So what you’re saying is that there’s an entire upside down version of Hawkins, and there’s a guy who’s controlling people mentally to kill them?” Having to process Chrissy was enough but now there’s a whole other world we have to understand and somehow get rid of????
“Yes, exactly, see? Someone understands me!” Dustin was a little too excited to be understood, which means he’s had to explain this far too much already.
“Well what the fuck are we supposed to do about it? We’re both being hunted for murder that we obviously didn’t commit.” Eddie blurted out from beside me, equally as tired of this shit as me.
“We didn’t think that far yet, we’re still trying to figure out how he’s attacking people.” Steve chimed in next, rubbing his neck after Eddie nearly stuck his switchblade into it.
“In the meantime, how about y’all get us some food, seeing as we can’t really go anywhere without getting recognized and then attacked, arrested, or killed. Hell I’ll even give you cash to cover it.” Pulling out my wallet I gave Nancy about 60 dollars for food, she seems like the most responsible to give cash.
“What are we supposed to get?” Nancy just looked at me confused.
“Anything really, nothing that needs a fridge, that’s not really an option right now.” I gestured around us at the rest of the boat house we had found ourselves in.
“Great, c’mon guys, let’s get the murderers food.” Sarcasm dripped off her words but Eddie and I still let out dry chuckles.
“Oh! And a six pack!” I looked to my left at Ed’s.
“Really, beer?” He looked almost offended.
“We need provisions, don't we? Beer is a liquid, and we need water to survive.” A deadpan replaced my previously confused expression.
“That’s not the same thing dumbass.” I lightly smacked the back of his head and he let out a small whine in response.
“What should we do while we wait for them to bring back stuff?” Eddie laid back against the walls behind him, looking up at me through hooded eyes.
“Um, wanna take a nap?” I shrugged my shoulders not really sure what to do without the usual stuff we had at his trailer or my house.
“What a fantastic idea my love, now get down here with me!” Grabbing my shoulders he dragged me down against the floor of the boat house to cuddle.
“Ya know I could’ve laid down on my own babe.” A smile spread across his face that I couldn’t even think about being mad about.
“I’m sure you could’ve, but that was more fun. Now, we sleep!” Giggling at his antics I wrapped my arms around his middle and quickly pressing a kiss to his lips before letting the sweet grasp of sleep wash over me. It was only a few hours later that we were rudely awakened by Dustin screaming.
“We have your food, stop being cutesy, it's gross!“ If it wasn’t Dustin yelling at me I would’ve kicked him in the shin and let him fall to the floor.
“Henderson, you're walking a fine line right now.” I only opened one eye to look up at him, but he got the message and took a few steps back.
“What all did you get?” Eddie groaned out sitting up from where he was laying in my arms.
“Um, the six pack, honeycomb, spaghetti-o’s, pasta, some random fruit Nancy picked up, uhh and some other stuff I think.” Steve started going through what he remembers from the shopping trip.
“Eddie, you're not drinking this early, it’s only 3:30.” Looking down at my watch to confirm the time before looking back up at him.
“It’s 5 o’clock somewhere babe, c’mon it’s been a rough couple of days, just this once?” Damn him and those beautiful brown eyes, as soon as he looks at me with a smile I can’t say no.
“Fine, just this once.” Sitting up I rubbed my eyes before looking at everyone again.
“So while you guys were gone, did you come up with anything? Like ya know, a plan maybe?” At this point I just wanted to go back to before everything happened, I just wanted my normal back.
“Well, this would be so much easier if we still had El and she still had her powers.” Steve mentioned this girl again, apparently she’s some super hero with magic.
“Okay this is like the third time you’ve mentioned this kid, who is she?” I still looked tired as shit but I couldn’t give two fucks anymore.
“Oh, Eleven is this crazy cool kid with like telekinesis, she can like invade people's minds, and she helped us deal with the last few times we’ve had issues.” Dustin tried explaining again, but somehow made it harder to understand, especially for someone who got woken up only a few minutes ago.
“Well I’m still lost, but we don’t have this magic kid, so what are we gonna do now?” Eddie said back to Dustin trying to wake up enough to open his beer.
“Still haven’t gotten that far yet, but if we can get into the upside down and kill Vecna it should solve the problem. Only issue is we don’t have a gate, we don’t know where Vecna is, or when or who he’s gonna go for next.” Dustin chimed in again to explain what we needed to do.
This was gonna be one hell of a shit show, I just know it.
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terracottaheart26 · 1 year
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Here’s Chapter 1 of Ya Amar!
Pairings : Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader, Jake Lockely x F!Reader
Genre: Fluff (angst and smut in later chapters)
Summary : About 6 years ago, Marc Spector had a small whirlwind romance fling with a young woman after leaving home, though he fears attachment and leaves her behind. When he finally meets her again after 6 years, along with a few surprises, could he bear to face her and reveal his truth?
A/N : Hello! I wanted to say hi to the fandom and just introduce myself, I’ve been writing fan fiction for as long as I can remember, but I was a little shy to do so in this case despite me being a huge Moonknight fan, so finally I jumped the gun and decided to try and write something I’ve been thinking about for the last year, and even have done drawings for, thanks so much for giving it a read and if you like it I’ll try and write more!
Hushed whisper, stolen kisses. A gasp of her breath. Rough hands grasping smooth skin, a giggle echoing off the thin walls. He could feel her soft skin under his hands, the warmth radiating off of her. Her sweet sounds melodic to his ears as he handled her.
“Marc” she whimpers to him, hands grasping his shirt while his own wander down her stomach, sucking a bruise onto her neck. Oh how he enjoyed that sound, nipping her skin and hearing another gasp escape from her throat. Rough hands pulling off her sleep shirt with ease.
“Bed” she pleads, her own hands tugging his shirt and wanting to pull it off of him. Her eyes pleading and watery from the attention, lips bruised from his own, she was flushed. He wasted no chance and hoisted her up into his arms. Finding a bed and shutting the door behind him.
He unbuttons her jeans, pulling them off her as she’s thrown onto the bed. Her mischievous smile when he crawls on top of her, blue eyes gazing at him as he finally………
6 years later……..
Marc awakes from his sweat stricken sheets, threading his fingers through his hair. He sits up with short gasps, feeling his heart race. Silently cursing to himself. He hadn’t thought of that, thought of her, in years. He just hoped no one else had been awake-
“What was that mate?” Steven asks in disbelief. A little flushed from what he assumed was a dream, though it seemed way too real to have been just that. He’d been resting himself when those images and sounds flashed thought out the headspace. A little red from it too.
“Who was that?” chuckles Jake, with a smirk in the mirrored image from the fish tank. He knew a good time when he saw one, and it gave him another chance to mess with the main alter over this sort of thing. He remembered Marc having a past before khonshu and everything but he didn’t know he’d go and do a thing like that.
Marc waves them off, trying to get his normal heart rate back, calm down the raging hard on from that memory. That one summer. It was long ago, it was hot, he’d been alone with ‘her’, crouching down even more at the memory of her. Before Khonshu, before his alters ever revealed themselves, before Layla.
Dark hair, olive colored skin, and her eyes. Oh how they bore into his soul the moment he found her. He sighed, getting up from the bed to pour some cold water on his face. Both alters bickering back and forth a bit to try and get an answer out of him. And he wouldn’t budge no matter how much it was eating at him.
“It was years ago, it wasn’t long, just……” “But…..bollocks…….that didn’t look like just a one time thing “ Steven interrupts with wide eyes, though Jake couldn’t say the same.
“Hermano, looks like you were having fun”
Marc flushed a bit at that comment. Knowing the the smile that would be on Jakes face from that comment. But honestly, they didn’t know the half of it. Or the entirety of it. It wasn’t a one night fling, the whole affair lasted a month at most. He’d been lost, wandering a good amount of time after he’d left home, and he was stuck. Unable to find his way out of the northeast. He’d met her then on a stormy night, unable to find shelter so late at night.
She’d offered him a room at the boarding home her grandparents ran. Pure luck she had room for him. She was patient and understanding, touching him when needed to help him around the large home. He’d smiled a little more in her presence, enjoying her cooking, and she’d dragged him outside to enjoy the fresh or and the garden her family he grown. They were alone however, grandparents off to a long vacation, tensions rising,no one else in sight, and a late night in the kitchen led to…..well…..
Of course it’d led to a month of flirting, hidden kisses in the dark. Her showering him with affection and he shyly receiving it. It wasn’t bad however, it felt, nice. Nice to be wanted. He couldn’t help the smile always growing after her own. After everything, the last few weeks,he watched her sleep one night, content from what had happened hours before, but he’d felt an ache in his chest. Was he allowed this? Was he allowed to find her and be happy?
His mothers voice, angry in the headspace, it made him shrink. Marc hated this, but he’d left that night, not leaving a word, a note or even a number, just his name. The next day it would be just a memory.He didn’t look back, became a mercenary, made a promise with a god close to death, even got married and divorced, and now here he was, memories of the past flooding him.
“Listen, doesn’t matter, I’m not going back, and it’s been a long time, bet she doesn’t even remember me” Or at least he’s fooling himself thinking it’d be best that she forget him altogether. He shrugs off his frustrations, using a towel for his face and throwing it aside before heading straight back to bed. He laid his head back on the pillow and hearing a soft-
“She was pretty though wasn’t she, mate?”
With a heavy sigh, closing his eyes, Marc could only answer back.
“Gorgeous”
*********************************************
Steven had woken up with the body the next day, heading out of the apartment to do some grocery shopping. He’d woken up that morning after what happened last night, a flush to his cheeks, and decided to just forget asking Marc to grab some food. Yet found there was really nothing to eat. It was difficult however with everyone’s different tastes. He groaned with the constant back and forth among the other two alters when deciding what would be best for dinner tonight, but kept quiet and did his best by buying whatever was requested.
Arms filled with bags, he’d gotten a hold of the smaller one but it managed to slip through his fingers. Unable to see where it had gone, he turned with a small wince hearing the glass bottle break in the bag itself and hoping there wasn’t much of a mess. Praying it wasn’t the soy sauce for tonight’s dinner.
“Oh my god! Need any help?”
His ears perked up, that voice sounded familiar. The bickering in his head finally stopped. Marc was silent, Jake began asking questions. He peered from behind the bags to spot a younger woman crouched down, carefully grasping the bag and what was left of its contents, eventually getting up to eye level. Olive skin, dark raven hair, and her eyes……
They recognized those eyes. From Marc’s memories. Here she was, standing before them. Marc’s breath caught in his throat, praying for Steven to leave, or say something! But he was frozen on the spot. What could he say? What can he say in this situation?
“Here you go, hope nothing else is ruined…..” her voice drifted off, her eyes widening. “Marc?”
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popcultureoverdosed · 4 months
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The Rolling Girls: All that Glitters Isn't Gold
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I really wanted to like this show. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, I wanted The Rolling Girls to be an anime that blew me away and carved a fond spot in my heart. What I got instead was a messy hodgepodge of directionless writing and worldbuilding.
The story goes that a great war took place that resulted in Japan being divided into several independent city-states with their own unique cultures. Each city is governed by a Best, a superpower individual that is supported by Rests, normal civilians who try to keep the peace. When superhero Matcha Green gets severely injured in a gang war, it's up to her sister Nozomi to fulfill her duties while traveling through various cities with her quirky group of friends.  Everything about the first two episodes led me to believe this show would knock it out of the park. It started off strong with beautifully fluid and vibrant animation and a catchy soundtrack accompanying every scene.
Boy, was I fooled. The Rolling Girls does a common strategy where the studio makes sure the first few episodes have exceptional animation to draw viewers in and then drops the ball quickly. I wouldn't call the overall animation bad, but it greatly fails to capture the amount of passion showcased at the beginning. Seriously, those first two episodes were a Sakuga fest. Thankfully, the show somewhat makes up for this decline by having consistently solid art direction. The backgrounds have a watercolor aesthetic that gives the anime a picture-book feel at times. The color design also deserves special mention for how well the colors pop on screen. I've paid so much attention to color palettes before watching Rolling Girls. The color designer really knew what they were doing.
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Enough with the positives, time to address the story.  The story was quite honestly uneventful. It's an episodic anime where the gang travels from city to city to solve problems but it hardly ever feels like they do anything substantial. Nozomi routinely finds herself caught in the middle of conflict between two Bests, tells them to stop fighting, and that's that. The characters in conflict resolve their differences mostly through their own actions rather than anything Nozomi does. The other characters contribute even less to the story and feel more like tag alongs. There's also a subplot about the moonlight stones; mystical heart shaped stones that supposedly give people the power of a Best. The gang keeps trying to obtain these MacGuffins but they always fall out of their grasp and their endeavors amount to nothing. Did I mention that aliens randomly start to become a plot focus near the end of the series? Yeah, that's when the show officially lost me.
The Rolling Girls is a show that only has its production values going for it. It could've been something amazing if the story was up to par.
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moss-reads · 7 months
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Caraval by Stephanie Garber
Rating: 3.4⭐️
I originally started writing this review with 2 hours in the audiobook left, but decided to scrap it because it was much more generous then i'm going to be now
with all the praise ive heard for Once Upon a Broken Heart i'm so confused that this was written by the same author, and now i'm not sure if i'm as willing as i was to start that series, when i'm not even sure i'll even start Legendary or Finale
I listened to the audiobook, narrated by Rebecca Soler and i think her voices are quite good and its easy to forget she's just one person narrating all the characters, and i think thats why i continued with it till the end because the experience wasnt completely unenjoyable
I will say sometimes the performance was a bit dramatic, but i imagine that could be from the writing, which i think felt extremely basic and i think for this being the first in Stephanie Garbers at least well known books (considering i cant even find titles of what wikipedia says shes written before) that can happen and i try not to fault authors for that
the plot felt extremely muddled and confusing, and the pacing was extremely off in several paces but it didnt feel like anything mattered that much anyway, the twists and turns felt too high in quantity to really know what exactly was the truth, but not in a fun way like a book that keeps you guessing, it felt more like there was a full point you were supposed to get but it was so shoehorned in it was hard to grasp it fully
the romance wasnt bad,but it both didnt feel that necessary and felt too necessary, and it sort of took away from how we're suppossed to believe Scarlett loves her sister above all else, when her reunion with Julian had way more depth, and his character felt the most well written till the ending
donatella dragna is probably one of the most insufferable badly written characters ive ever read, and finding out she's supposed to be 15 makes some sense until you remember all the illusions to sex with her character and then you just get a bad taste in your mouth
i dont want to dunk completely on this book, because i did enjoy some of it especially around the middle point when they first arrive on the island, but as it got further on i just wanted it to be over, as i stated earlier i got to about 2 hours left and started to write this review because i wanted it to be over but i didnt even continue the book for several days because it just didnt draw me in enough
i might later continue the series out of curiosity, and because i would like to give Once Upon a Broken Heart a chance but i am so extremely disappointed since this has been on my tbr for a while, i even almost bought the physical copy a few months back but i am so glad i got three other books i thoroughly enjoyed instead because i had attempted originally to read the ebook from my library and could not get through it
tldr: i did not like caraval, i dont think it was the worst book ever written but i dont think it was very good either,and honestly i think the love interest was a better character then any of the rest of them, and only for about half the book
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notahorseindisguise · 2 years
Text
ive actually had a good grasp on the concept of cosmic horror since i was a child.
i once had a dream where i was in a blank, empty, dark void. there was nothing anywhere, expcept for one thing. it was about 10 paces ahead of me. i cant picture what it looked like, but im sure if i saw it in a drawing or something, i could point it out.
ill try my best to describe it: it was a mass of long, endlessly long, deep, red tendrils. they werent static, they were sort of, pulsing a little bit, but it was barely noticable (i only noticed because i saw it many times - ill get to it later). not only that, but they were crawling over each other, as though in a hurry to get somewhere else in that pile. those bloody tendrils just, get squirming over each other, but the pile never moved. i think, looking back at it, it may have only been one long limb, writhing and squirming all over itself, but of course, ill never be sure.
at some point in the pile, around the middle, the limbs started to go up. like, they went up, and came to a head to support an eyeball. an eyeball bigger than my head. it was white, but bloodshot. veins were visible in it.
now, when i say the eye was white, i dont just mean it was white around the edges of it. i mean the eye was fully white. pure white, with the red arteries obviously just below the surface of the eye. it wasnt always like that, actually. one day, a couple months later i came back, it had a pupil and an iris and everything. at that point i wish it actually didnt have that, and it was back to just the white eye, because, i don't know how to explain it, but i know for a FACT that it had my eye. that was MY EYEBALL jammed haphazardly inside its, for lack of a better word, "face". my eyeball. that always creeped me out.
something you need to know about me: i have aphantasia. i cant picture things in my brain, like, at all. so most of my dreams are pretty boring, without detailed imagery.
something else you need to know about me: these dreams were different. they were super detailed. i felt like i was there. i could remember them vividly. i still cant picture what happened in the dream cause aphantasia, but i remember it being so much more vivid a dream than any id ever had - or ever would, honestly. so i can describe it pretty well.
how is this cosmic horror? well, let me explain the contents of this dream. i was standing there, a bit in front of this creature, looking at it while it looked back at me. i didnt say anything. neither did it. eventually i tried to walk backwards, but the thing just followed me. i didnt see it move at all though. i tried to turn around so i could run away, but it just stayed directly in the same place in my view. but it didnt move. it was like - you know when you look in a light too long, and you see the little dark specs? but since they are in your eye, rather than being an actual object, they stay in the same position of your view no matter where you look. idk if i explained that well, but thats what it was like. it always stayed in the same place.
thats not true actually. the first time i had the dream, i took a step towards it, expecting it to move back. suddenly it was 9 paces away. it didnt have a mouth, but i knew it was smiling, and despite my terror, i was smiling too. i didnt want to smile, i dont know why i was smiling. next time i had the dream, it was still only 9 paces away. i decided to never do it again. until 3 or so months had gone by, and i started feeling comfortable in this landscape, probably too comfortable. i took another step towards it. for the rest of the time i had that dream, i was only about 8 paces away from it... thats, thats actually around the same time it got the eye, i think.
this dream, as ive alluded to, wasnt just a one time thing. it was a terrible recurring nightmare that i had every couple of days for ages. i havent thought about it in ages, im honestly worried that bringing it up might make me have the dream again.
around the 3rd time i had it, my habit was just to stand still and wait for it to be over. got in a few staring contests with it (it didnt have eyelids - it won). but eventually i decided to say something. "what are you?" i called out to it, honestly, scared of how hoarse my voice turned out to be.
it didnt have a mouth, so i thought either it wouldnt respond, or itd do that thing from books where it speaks directly to my mind. it didnt though. its voice definitely came from it, although i don't know where. its voice sounded like, well, just a persons voice. i dont know what the voice was. didnt, anyway. this is the most ive thought about this dream in ages, and now im thinking about it, it was my voice. not my squeely 5 year old voice, the voice i have right now, or maybe a little deeper, as though it matured. it took its voice from me as an adult.
"what are you?" i asked.
"a dream." it said. it laughed. "...by choice."
i didn't talk to it more that night.
the next time i tried to talk to it, i dont know when it was, i asked "what do you mean?" i was asking what it meant by being a dream by choice. i thought maybe i was being too cryptic, but somehow it knew what i was referring to.
"i could get out, if i wanted. but this is more fun." it said. that terrified me more than anything. i knew this being was capable of entering my real world, even though it knows it doesnt exist in the real world. it had that power, its just toying me.
the last time i tried to talk to it, i asked "what do you want?"
it laughed. "come here, and ill show you."
despite that kind invitation, it already had what i now know is my voice, and my eye, so i did not walk any closer.
i dont know if it had a name, i never asked, but i remember giving it a name. i wanted to think of a name that embodied how bad it was, just the pure evil energy coming off it. but nothing i thought of had the right evil energy. i know its not creative, but i called it "Evil". i dont know, it seemed to work. i just couldnt think of anything worse than it. i didnt think that i named it after the concept of evil, i thought the concept of evil was named after it.
i think thats all the information i need to give. it really scared me as a kid. i had this dream for ages. i dont know if Evil was a demon or what, if it actually existed, but that didnt matter, because i imagined it with the power to break out of dreams, which means it could if it wanted to.
my main fear in posting this is that, maybe now it'll be in your dreams. and im so sorry.
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He Better get an A (Caleb Mclaughlin)
Age: 18+
Warnings:It’s wholesome till it isn’t , unprotected sex, Nasty talk (this is my first smut y’all so please i’m not good with the warnings) (Also y’all have protected sex!!)
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So imagine that you plan on staying in your dorm to study for a big test, but you decide to take a small break because you’ve been studying. Hence, you got out of your 3 o’clock class and now it is 7:30, so you decide to order pizza and watch a pretty woman as you’re watching a handsome man indulging in Sarah Roberts with her boots and her strong accent. While watching the movie, you hear a knock at the door. You pause the movie with curiosity. You open the door, and to your surprise, it’s one of your friends you have known since his first year Caleb, Caleb is like the golden boy of your college. He plays basketball, and the school is on a three-year winning streak thanks to him; you always had a crush on Caleb. He was always sweet and respectable, even if he slightly flirted with you.
You and him got along pretty well, but because you were shy around guys besides your ex-boyfriend, you only hanged out with a Caleb in group settings. Your friend would; would say you and Caleb had some chemistry when you guys were together, but you always denied it. Your ex-boyfriend, however, saw this so-called chemistry and hated it, trying to force you away from hanging out with Caleb and your friends. Of course, you broke up with him right after that incident. Caleb has a worried look on his face. You ask him what’s wrong, and he says, “this test for English, the professor said if I fail this one, I might as well drop the class” what! You said in shock. Have you not been doing the work? Why didn’t you ask me where in that class together? I said, shocked; Caleb never misses a day of class, sure, he doesn't engage in the course, but every time you ask him about it, he says he’s doing okay. Because he said “you are brilliant, and I didn’t want you to think I was the dumb jock stereotype”, Caleb said, looking embarrassed. “We hav been classmates for two years now, and we’re in the same friend group.
I would never think that, and just because you have a hard time grasping concepts in class doesn't mean you are dumb means you need to change your learning method” you said. Silence hung in the air. It was quiet. You started to feel awkward only because you realized that Caleb was in your dorm room by himself, not accompanying any of your other friends for movie nights or random hang-out sessions. As you realized how awkward this was, you were sizing Caleb up. He had on gray sweatpants, one of his sports tops that was a crop top, and some slip-on shoes. He honestly looked like he was in his room struggling and ran over here to you… but he still looks good. “Okay”, you say, snapping out of your trance, noticing that Caleb is looking at you with the fantastic Gatsby book in his hand. “Okay, let’s start studying”.
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So You say, “we’re going to try this one more time cause so far we have gone over some terms and definitions from in the book, which you got quickly. It seems like you are struggling with concepts from the book, like metaphorical terms” you say now on the bed. Me and Caleb has been studying for two hours on this test. He seems less stressed. When he arrived, Caleb was lying diagonally at the bottom of the bed, drawing letters on my ankle while looking at the ceiling. “Okay, he said one more time, I'm confident in what I’ve learned. I need a C on this test, and I can rest tell the next one” he said “no, I interjected Me and you are going to have study dates from now on sometimes in here or in the library”. Caleb giggled. “Okay, fine, shoot your question”. Caleb said with a satisfied grin. “Okay, Y/N said, what does the green light in great gatsby represent?”Caleb processed the question and then answered.
“I would say it represents …hope he says uncertainty” like he was a saying his statement as a question, “okay elaborate please” you said knowing he was right, but this is one of the big questions our professor has been stressing all week, so I know it’s going to be on the test. “Well, he’s on Daisy's dock, and he stretched his arm to the light. I think that’s one of the first encounters Nick sees him. I believe gatsby yearned for the green light how he yearned and hoped for daisy; daisy was a dream to him cause she was unattainable. He wanted her so bad that he hoped and prayed that she would leave the other guy who was lame and fall in love with gatsby”. His statement hung in the air, but it was a perfect statement.
“You know” y/n said “answer like this on the test, and you’ll get more the C” y/n said excited. Caleb and me both high five each other and got caught up in the moment we hugged each other. “Thank you” He said “I needed the encouragement”. “No problem”, you responded, but the quick question you asked, enjoying Caleb's company, “what’s your opinion on Gatsby”. Caleb looked at me, quizzing now, both sitting up facing each other. “I think gatsby was a dumbass. He put on this whole persona for a woman who never was in love with him but was more so in love with material things, and he was trying to get her and ended up dead in the process”. “This is true”, y/n said “but there is some irony in romanticism”. I mean, Jane Austin once said, “You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope…I have loved none but you.” “I mean to love someone and can not have them must be a real pain, especially when that’s the only person you want,” you said now, staring off in the distance, hoping Caleb doesn't know I'm talking about him.
“It sounds like you are speaking from experience”. Caleb said now you realize that he’s closer to you, you can feel his breath on your lip, and he’s staring straight into your eyes. You responded with a faint yea- before the rest of the sentence could come, he was kissing you with his soft lips. You'd always imagined kissing Caleb, but you couldn’t imagine what it felt like. His lips were soft and delicate. He was taking his time kissing you, and he was playful. Before you knew what you were doing, you felt your hand on his neck to pull him down on top of you, to which he moaned. Your pajamas were quickly discarded on the floor, and his clothes were thrown across the room quickly. He had a sense of urgency about him at this moment, and you didn’t question him. He was now moving down your body, not missing a part of your body unscathed or untouched his hands were everywhere touching you, and it felt beautifully mixed in with the nip of the cool air on your body; gaining goosebumps, he stopped at my breast starting nipping on one while pinching the other using his tongue most perfectly on my nipple making me sing out moans like a symphony.
You only had sex with the same person who was your first boyfriend, and he was awkward, and so were you cause you were still learning each other bodies. But Caleb, Caleb knew your body already, somehow no explanation. He touched your body with urgency. You gasp for air as he puts his hands between my legs and plays with your clit. Your body feels numb in a good way. Whatever this feeling is, you don’t want it to leave you soon. “You are so beautiful when you moan, relax, baby”, he whispers in my ear. My breathing increases as he inserts his fingers inside of me. “I’ve liked you for so long. I never said anything cause you were talking to your ex, but I always wondered whether he took care of you? “Thrust” This motion I felt where Caleb’s two fingers , smooth but rough going inside of me ,did he appreciate you? “Thrust” “did he make sure your body was always fucked good?” “Thrust,” “Caleb growled in my ear and with every question he would pump his fingers a little harder. Which would cause you to get wetter”. You were moaning and not caring. Your eyesight became blurry. All you wanted was a release. You responded and looked Caleb in the eye while spitting on your fingers and said “no, but you can”.You grab his dick and started to give him a handjob moving your hand up and down. This caused Caleb's body to tense. His body became rigged, only looking at you moving his waist in on your hands. He looked so beautiful, his dark, ebony skin glistening with sweat while hovering on top of me. Caleb grabbed your wrist quickly and said in his deeper voice let’s stop now. You're going to make me cum, and I want to fuck you first before I do that, and without any hesitation, you put his dick inside of you. Feeling this feeling felt great. He was warm and expansive and of decent length. It made you feel full. Before you knew it, you were rocking your hips and moaning because Caleb was doing the same. “Fuck he said “you look so fucking good with me fucking you like this, he retorted, now slamming his hips into me”, choking me. I was moaning so loud, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to have relief. I could feel it coming. It felt heavy and impactful.
“I’m finna cum” you stated. “Hold it”, he growled, now playing with my clit and slamming into me “hold it until I tell you to let it go”. He was moaning in my ear over and over again “Fuck-Shit-your so fucking tight for me, babe,” his voice getting deeper with each statement. Hearing him devouring me in this way makes you moan more your legs are starting to shake. All you can do is beg, “please, please, it feels so good please”, your whining. With one final thrust, Caleb says, “Now,” which causes your body to release the organism and shake while Caleb rips himself out of you and then ejaculates onto your stomach and rubs his dick across your boobs. Okay, he said with a dry voice. Looking exhausted, let’s take a shower and go to bed, picking you up and taking you to the shower. All you could think is he better get an A.
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monocaelia · 3 years
Text
comforting you after a nightmare headcanons
nightmares aren't fun, but luckily you have someone there to protect you.
feat. albedo, diluc, childe, kaeya, xiao, zhongli
genre : hurt/comfort, fluff
note : hbd to me!! here's a gift from me to you with one of my favorite tropes, hehe <:
❀ albedo
albedo isn't one to dream much, let alone rest. he's always caught up in his own research and experiments that sleep isn't really needed if he wanted to be more productive in his research, despite the worried comments from sucrose and your lighthearted nags that he'll stay short forever.
though, that isn't to say that he's not interested. there are many times that albedo has caught you dozing off in his laboratory while waiting for him to be done with his experiments. he would be lying to himself if he didn't wonder what could possibly be playing in your mind to make you be smiling like that while unconscious.
this time, though, is an exception.
test tubes and flasks filled with various liquids and concoctions fill albedo's workspace as he examines each and every one before filling in his notebooks with descriptions and drawings of his work. there's a shuffle from his other desk and his eyes shift up to glance at you. albedo's gaze softens at the sight of his coat draped over your shoulders as they move to the rhythm of your breathing.
he wonders why you choose to stay at his laboratory so late and wait for him to finish his research rather than head home alone and sleep in your much more comfortable bed. albedo supposes you find comfort in his presence, an odd thing to be comforted by really.
however, the gentle smile quickly falls from his face the moment he hears the quiet whimpers and pleas. as quickly as he could, albedo moves to your side and gently shakes you awake. he isn't the least surprised when your eyes snap open and a gasp leaves your lips.
"...are you alright?" the question breaks you from your daze and you seem to relax when you realize you aren't dreaming anymore. though, the way your hands and shoulders shake doesn't escape the sharp eyes observing you.
"come on, i think i'm done with my research for now. we can head home if you'd like?" albedo smiles when you nod your head, but as he turns to pack up and prepare to leave his laboratory your hand shoots out to grasp his own.
albedo is surprised at first, but the shock melts into endearment as his hand pulls yours up to his lips. he presses a gentle kiss on your knuckles, reassuring you that he'll be right there for you. that you wouldn't be alone.
"nightmares, huh? ...i wonder if i can concoct something to help eradicate the chances of them appearing. oh, don't worry, i won't leave your side for the rest of the evening. promise."
❀ diluc
diluc isn't prone to nightmares, honestly he probably gets them quite often. or maybe even dreamless dreams if he's lucky. well, considering he sleeps at all. he's busy being the darknight hero of mondstatdt in the dead of night, so sleep doesn't come by often for the red haired vigilante.
even when he does get nightmares, there's not many people he can call to or rely on to help comfort him. he doesn't trust any of the knights, and he definitely doesn't trust kaeya to help at all. so comforting someone isn't something he knows how to do well.
but he tries his best to comfort you in any way, shape, or form if you ever needed him to.
the knocking against his door is quiet, nearly nonexistent if diluc was preoccupied with anything other than trying to sleep. he would have ignored it if it weren't for the quiet whisper of his name from a voice he recognized. sighing, he rises from his bed and heads over to his door, mentally preparing himself for whatever you're planning to throw over his head.
instead, diluc is met with your cheeky smile. you're definitely up to no good, but he hasn't quite figured out what you were going to do or say. before he could even question why you're standing outside his door in the dead of night, you interrupt him.
"wow diluc! fancy seeing you here, do you come here often?" he deadpans at you and nearly closes the door to go back to sleep. but he notices the way your fingers twiddle, a sign that you're nervous about something. his eyes flicker to your face, scanning anything that would give him clues on what's on your mind.
"what happened?" diluc's brows furrow in worry seeing the way your smile falls and the way your body begins to curl in on itself. he offers a hand for you to take, an invitation for you to be comforted by the stoic man in front of you. he lets a small smile grow on his lips when he sees you brighten up a tad at his invitation.
your hand is encased in his own, scarred and rough with callouses but comforting and warm at the same time.
"go back to sleep, it's already getting really late. if you need anything, though, i'll be right here until the dawn rises."
❀ childe
although sleep is necessary to maintain perfect health, childe finds it difficult to maintain a proper sleeping schedule due to his job as a fatui harbinger. when the tsaritsa calls, he needs to be there immediately to come to her aid and carry out her orders regardless of how inconvenient it was for him.
but, having many siblings, especially younger ones, has always prepared childe to comfort and protect anyone that he holds close to his heart. nobody, not even nightmares, can get close enough to harm the people he loves, not if he's alive to knock them down a peg.
which definitely includes you, someone who holds his entire world in the palm of your hands.
childe finds you awake at the dead of night after one of his shifts at the northland bank. which is surprising considering you're always asleep before he gets back home from work, always trying to stay up to welcome the harbinger home but always succumbing to the sweet embrace of slumber.
a mischievous grin grows on his lips as he plans to spook you, but as he nears your body, the shaking of your body and quiet sniffles reach his ears. immediately, childe's hand is on your shoulder and he frowns when you yelp and whip around to see him.
"o-oh, ajax, i didn't expect to see you home so soon. i was just getting ready for bed." a white lie. childe presses his lips into a thin line, his hand reaching out to catch a tear falling from your cheek. did...did he do this to you? was he being a bad partner for not putting aside more time for you?
as if reading his mind, you vehemently shake your head and grab onto childe's wrist. "no! no... it's not what you think i just had a really bad dream and couldn't go back to sleep. don't worry, you don't need to beat yourself up over this." he relaxes immediately at your comment, but he still feels bad for leaving you alone when you needed someone to comfort you.
childe leans over, cupping your face in his hands as he showers your face in featherlight kisses. your giggles fill the room and the habinger can't help but laugh as well, especially after pressing a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips. "how about i cook you a nice stew for tonight? it always helped teucer calm down when he was scared."
and you take him up on that offer. the rest of the evening is filled with light laughter from the both of you as childe moves around the kitchen and tells you stories of his childhood. the scene is comforting, peaceful, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
"how about we turn in for tonight? don't worry, nothing will harm you as long as your big, strong ajax is by your side!"
❀ kaeya
despite his title of being a "lazy" and "laid-back" captain of the calvary, kaeya isn't one to sleep too much. he has a regular sleeping schedule, though there are some nights where the memories of his past haunt him and he stays up reminiscing about how things were.
he's one to brood alone, not letting anyone see him vulnerable. but he likes to be relied on. there isn't a bone in his body that prevents him from helping anyone in need, even though the way he gets things done is quite... unconventional to everybody else's standards.
but when you call to him for help, he’s there in an instant.
the sound of rustling from beside kaeya stirs him from his slumber. he squints, his good eye focusing in the darkness of his room before landing on your curled up figure beside him. he figures you’re just shifting in your sleep and closes his eyes again, but you shift again and sigh. surely, you’re not sleeping at this point.
kaeya gently calls out your name, a warm smile on his face when he sees you startle from his voice. though, his smile melts away from his face when he sees your expression. it doesn’t help that you flinch slightly when his hand reaches over to brush against your cheek.
“sorry, i just…i’m still shaken from my dream and-“ your apologies are cut short when kaeya sends you a comforting smile and cups your jaw in his hand. he assures you that it’s fine.
“are you okay? how long have you been up?” it takes you a moment too long to come up with a lie that would put your lover at ease. when you come up with an answer, kaeya is already staring at you with his mismatched orbs, one of deep sapphire and the other a light, milky blue color. you can’t lie to him now.
so you tell the calvary captain about the dream you just had, not going too into details with what really shook you. and kaeya listens to everything you say, a hand firmly on your arm to remind him that you’re with him and not whatever occurred in your dreams.
he makes little comments here and there to lighten the mood, though he knows when to keep quiet so you can talk it through. when you finish talking the dream through, kaeya pinches your cheek, chiding you for dreaming of such things.
but he reassures you that you’re fine, and that he’s here to protect you should anything from your dreams come into reality. he jokes about letting you handle everything alone, but you know he wouldn’t despite how cheeky he is.
"don't let the bedbugs bite, [name]. haha, kidding. i'll be here to fight them off if you need me. i am a captain after all."
❀ xiao
xiao isn't unfamiliar with nightmares and dreams. don't forget, one of his duties under the reign of the yaksha's previous master was to devour the dreams of the innocent. it had gotten to the point where dreams were the only things he could stomach, despite detesting the intent behind it.
despite it all, though, xiao is still an adeptus who protects the mortals and the innocent of liyue. his sole job now, under his contract with rex lapis, is to protect even if it means throwing his life away. with a swift call of his name, he would be there to be the guardian of liyue and anyone residing in it.
and that includes you, the sole mortal that the young adeptus enjoys the company of.
a gasp tears through your throat as you sit up in your bed, sweat dripping down the side of your face. your eyes are blown wide open with the visions of your nightmare still clear in your mind. the rapid beating of your heart and panting are the only sounds heard in your otherwise quiet bedroom.
curses spill from your lips as you cradle your head in your hands, your knees pulled up to your chest to try and make yourself as small as you possibly could. but to no avail, no matter what you did to comfort yourself or make yourself forget the nightmare, the visions still flashed in your memories every time you closed your eyes.
you don't hear the rustling from your window, nor did you feel the presence of someone crouching from behind your curtains. it's only when he gently calls your name do you whip your head around, eyes coming face to face with golden eyes that gleam in the moonlight.
"xiao... sorry i didn't see you there," you stutter, quickly wiping your eyes and turning away so the young adeptus wouldn't see you crying. his eyes narrow at you, eyebrows furrowing as a frown settles on his face. "what are you-"
your hands are pulled away from your face and you're pulled closer to him. "you're crying." you try to deny xiao's observation and reassure him that you're fine, but a hand gently brushes against your cheek.
xiao doesn't say anything when the tears begin falling down your face again. he doesn't say anything when you jump into his arms and bury your face in his chest. you feel his arms firmly wrap themselves around you. he doesn't say a word, but his actions alone assure you that he would be there with you for the rest of the evening.
"sleep. should any more dreams come to haunt you during your rest, i'll be here to dispose of them."
❀ zhongli
as an archon, zhongli doesn't find much need for sleep. he's a god and no god needs sleep to be energized for the following day. it's not like it would do well for him anyways, seeing as he would much rather prefer strolling the lit up streets of liyue harbor in the late evening before returning to his home to drink tea and relax.
that's not to say he isn't familiar with dreams and how they can affect mortals. he knows full well the impact they can have, especially if they're dreams filled with horrible outcomes or stuff nobody would like to be reminded of.
so when you come to him to seek comfort after a horrible night, he's ready to welcome you into his embrace.
the gentle whisper of zhongli's name alerts him of your presence from the hallway in your shared home. the archon lifts his head to look at you, eyes made of molten gold meeting your shaking gaze. "what's wrong, dear?" you don't answer his question and instead shift your gaze to the ground.
zhongli tells you to "come here" in the gentlest voice he could muster, and you do. as soon as you sit beside your lover, his hand comfortingly holds your jaw and lifts your face so you can see him. there's nothing but endearment and love in his gaze. "you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."
he hums in amusement seeing the way your body relaxes after that. there's a gentle tug on your arm, a signal for you to find comfort in zhongli's embrace, and you find yourself snug in between the archon's arms. you inhale deeply, zhongli's comforting scent filling your lungs.
his hands rake gently up and down your spine and hearing his heartbeat from where you rest on his chest calms you immensely. if it weren't for your nervous, rhythmic tapping against his arm, zhongli would have assumed you fell back asleep in his arms.
"would you like to hear about the play i've been attending to recently? the plot is quite interesting, i think you would enjoy it." he attempts to distract you for a while to calm your nerves after waking so abruptly, and it works, not to his surprise.
as he drones on and on about the plot that doesn't quite make sense to you in your dazed state, the archon notices the way your fingers have stilled and your breathing has evened out, much calmer and more regulated than before. zhongli smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
"it's starting to get late. you should try to rest again. don't worry, i'll be beside you should anything happen to you once more."
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pippytmi · 3 years
Note
Supercorp + Hogwarts AU + meet messy + "is that the best you can do?"
“Hey, do you guys want to see a muggle magic trick?”
Kara doesn’t have to look up to know Alex and Kelly are exchanging glances over Nia’s head. Nia is the best witch in the fifth year hands-down, but her grasp of muggle illusions leave a lot to be desired.
“Sure…” Kelly agrees, politely but unsurely, while Alex shakes her head.
“If this is that stupid coin trick again, Nia—” she starts, but Nia is already squeezing between them on the grass, unfolding a pack of muggle playing cards.
“It is not,” Nia says. “Prepare to be amazed! Yvette says I’m really good at this one.”
“Oh, joy,” Alex mutters under her breath, which turns into a pained yelp when Kelly elbows her in the ribs.
Kara finally raises her gaze from the newspaper she’s been half-reading, fully prepared to commit to Nia’s trick, but then she catches a glimpse of dark hair and a brisk pace. It’s Lena Luthor, notorious loner, actually sitting outside by the black lake with her books.
It’s odd—Lena never sits outside. People talk; Lena doesn’t have many friends (someone even started a rumor that Lillian Luthor pays Jess, another sixth year, to hang out with Lena). In fact, the only time anyone really sees Lena is in class, or in the Slytherin common room when Jess is also there. Kara sees her even less (only when Slytherin and Gryffindor share classrooms), but that doesn’t make the hopeless crush she’s fostered on her since they were eleven any less potent.
Kelly starts clapping suddenly, reluctantly dragging Kara’s eyes from Lena (who is reading a book; Kara is wondering just what kind of book it is). “Aw, Nia, that was good!” she says. “Do it again!”
Even Alex is curiously lifting up the cards one by one, as if trying to determine the trick herself. “Did you use actual magic for this?” she asks.
“I’m just that good,” Nia brags, though the way she tries to expertly shuffle the cards right back into their box suggests otherwise; half of them spill onto the grass. “Oh man!”
“I’ve got this,” Kara says, absentmindedly reaching for her wand. “Accio—”
“Kara, no!”
Oh, that’s right, Kara thinks belatedly. My wand is broken. It had been an unfortunate event on the Quidditch pitch involving an overzealous Hufflepuff seeker (Winn is still very apologetic about it, but it can’t be helped now). Unfortunately, Kara never seems to quite remember that magic is off-limits until it can be fixed.
And even more unfortunate is the fact that her mind and her words have begun to converge; she’s thinking about the book Lena is reading while glancing at the cards, and her mouth is forming silent words, and really it’s not a surprise at all when said book rockets out of Lena’s hands and aims right for Nia’s head.
No one dies, though, nor do they have to make the unpleasant trudge to the infirmary—Kelly is far quicker than any of Kara’s botched magic, and the book explodes into nothing when she mutters a firm, “Evanesco.”
“Kelly!” Kara forgets, for a second, about the whole Nia-about-to-break-her-face thing; her heart drops to the pit of her stomach at the thought that something of Lena Luthor’s has been reduced to figurative dust. What if that book was personal? What if it was special? What if it was—
“Excuse me,” says a quiet, sudden voice, and Kara just about falls over in the grass at the sight of Lena Luthor standing there. “I think you summoned my book.”
Kelly winces. “Oh, actually—”
“I destroyed it,” Kara blurts out, because really, this is her fault and Nia still has a face so the least Kara can do is take a fall for a friend. “I’m sorry. My wand is broken, and I was trying to summon some cards, but I was looking at you and thinking about your book and it just…I’m sorry. Again. I can pay for it?” She immediately begins digging into the pockets of her robes, but all she manages to scrounge up is a broken sugar quill and a drawing on a torn sheet of paper that depicts Professor Grant as a dragon.
For a moment, all Lena does is stare down at Kara in a peculiarly quizzical way. She doesn’t seem mad or anything, just perplexed. A second later she says, “You were thinking about ‘Voyages with Vampires’ strongly enough to summon it? I don’t really enjoy Gilderoy Lockhart books myself.”
“To be fair,” Kara’s quick to defend herself, “I couldn’t read the title from this far.”
“Right. You decided you wanted to snatch my book from me because it was mine.” And just like that, the curious expression on Lena’s face drops entirely, twists into something resigned and exhausted. “Is that the best you can do? Petty little child games?”
“What? No, I would never—”
“Because last week Eve Tessmacher hit me with a furnunculus curse that was far more clever than this,” Lena all but sneers. “It’s always the pig-headed Gryffindors that aim out of their league.”
“You wanna say that again?” Alex is jumping up, her wand brandished out, and Lena glances from her to Kara to Kelly to Nia, as if just realizing how potentially outnumbered she could be.
Except, well, that’s so not the issue. Kara hastens to stand between Alex’s wand and Lena’s body, nearly knocking her sister over in the process. “No! No, I didn’t do that as a prank, I—” She pauses, feels her cheeks go hot, and then rushes out, “Ijustthinkyou’rereallypretty!”
Alex lowers her wand; Kara can tell, because Alex uses it to jab her in the ribs. “Oh, bloody hell,” Alex grumbles, and she nudges Kelly to join her. “I think that’s our cue. I’d rather study for Potions than watch this.”
Kelly obligingly drags Nia along, who looks like she wants to protest, but eventually Nia caves in—though not without trying to wink conspiringly at Kara, which doesn’t work because Nia “winks” with both eyes.
“But—” Kara watches as her friends scatter, and then she is left with the heavy, accusatory gaze of Lena Luthor. She tries to smile, but imagines her attempt is more of a wince than anything. “Did I mention that I’m sorry?”
Lena takes a step forward. She raises her chin in the air, no less guarded, but her eyes convey a tiny bit of that earlier curiosity all the same. “You’ve already had your fun, Kara Danvers,” she says. “But I will give you credit, no one has played the ‘I have a crush on you’ prank yet.”
Kara frowns. “Do people really play pranks on you so much?”
“I am the weird little sister of a boy who tried to blow up Hogwarts,” Lena all but deadpans. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re way more than Lex Luthor’s sister, and that’s just...really mean,” Kara says, words bursting out before she even pauses to rein them in. “I mean, you are so smart! Last year you saved a bunch of first years who wandered into the Forbidden Forest. A-and you never tried out for Quidditch, but sometimes you fly with Jess on the pitch and you’re so fast you could easily run circles around anyone on the Slytherin team. You’re the coolest person ever. Even when you were eleven, you—” Finally, her brain starts to catch up with her mouth, and Kara flushes hotter than she ever thought possible. “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean for that to sound…stalker-y. I only know about the first year thing because Professor Grant’s son was new that year and I was supposed to be babysitting him. And then the flying, well, sometimes I go to the pitch with Winn whenever he wants to practice—”
“Kara. You can breathe any time you want,” Lena prompts, and Kara pauses to do exactly that.
“Sorry,” Kara adds, again, after she’s let her lungs rest a bit. Her whole body feels shivery from head to toe, like she is seconds away from fainting, and honestly? She just might. “Anyway. Um. I can replace that book if you want. Or I can give you the money and you can pick out a better one, since you said you weren’t a fan? Whatever you want.”
Lena is quiet for a beat. “What were you going to say before? About when I was eleven?”
Kara bites her lip so hard she knows she will inevitably have to ask Kelly to heal it later. “Oh, that,” she says evasively. “I meant, when you were eleven, and I walked face-first into the wrong wall trying to get to platform nine and three quarters, and you didn’t even laugh at me. You just...helped me up, and promised you would walk with me to the train until I found my family again.”
“I remember,” Lena says, and her voice is softening, as is her expression. “You somehow got lost between platforms seven and eight. Your sister was furious when she caught up with us.”
“Yeah.” And Kara finds herself smiling at that memory; this time it’s a real smile, and she couldn’t stop it if she tried. “That was really nice.” She wants to mention more—how even when Lillian Luthor scowled at Kara’s hand-me-downs, Lena complimented her right away on the shirt that had once been Alex’s—but all Kara does right now is step back. “I’ve bothered you enough, I think. Will you…let me know? About the book?”
“I don’t care about the book,” Lena says, and she swallows, loud enough that Kara can hear it. “Do you mean it?”
“That you’re...nice?”
“Yes.” Lena’s cheeks are a faint pink color, and Kara’s entire mouth goes dry.
“Well, yeah,” Kara says, and in that moment—with Lena blushing, and Kara’s chest tightening—they both know that she’s confessing to so much more than thinking Lena is nice. “So. Um.” She squares her shoulders, and prepares to be brave enough to live up to the Gryffindor name: “Can I buy you something that’s not a book? Sometime? Maybe on our next trip to Hogsmeade?”
“Like a date?” Lena asks, so impossibly soft, and Kara nods.
“Exactly like a date,” Kara says, and honestly, she should demand ten points to Gryffindor herself because her voice does not waver once.
And Lena Luthor smiles, just cautious enough to show how unsure she is, but still warm enough that Kara’s heart skips a beat. “Okay,” she says. “But on one condition: I’ll handle any magic until then.”
“Deal,” Kara agrees, and it’s official; breaking her wand might have been the best thing that has ever happened to her, ever.
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