remind me to never use a brush again to ink something as little as this


pairing: Jungkook | reader I Yooongi
genre: angst (Soulmate!au meets Hanahaki!au)
word count: 3.327
warnings: none
author’s note: Hellooo, Toombler! This is the first instaallment of the Saudade series (Whoot Whoot) I’m warning you guys now, i have no plot, idk where i’m going with this. Let me know if you guys want another part to this! xxx

Series: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3


Saudade;                                                                                                           ↪ The feeling of intense longing for a person or place you love but is now lost

The sky was a painting tonight.

You marveled at the beautiful twilight hues. Shades of violet bled into the indigo sky, creating bridges of colours you could only describe with the paintbrush in your hand, and the canvas in front of you. You mixed and created shades of pink, purple and blue you could not name. You paid no attention to that, art did not need a language; it was the expression of what words fail to communicate.

Art is an entity of its own.

Like you.

Many described you as wild – you were as wild as the winds that blew the curled red leaf in the air.

You watched the sun in front of you dip below the horizon like a candle being extinguished. You dipped your own brush into the paint and brushed it across the canvas, now adding the finishing strokes of cerise and amber.

You gave your painting a final look before setting down your paintbrush.

You huffed. In front of you was no match to what you saw a few minutes ago. You could never paint the splashes of colours you formed in the sky. The true and raw beauty of the sunset could never be captured. That is by you – a self-proclaimed artist.

It was rumoured that everyone has a different sky that is shared with their soulmate – except all celestial objects stay in the same position for everybody, so weather is not affected. Everyone has the ability to draw on the sky, making splash of colours or little notes for only them and their soulmate to see.

You shivered from the chilly winds as they ran across your skin. It was exhilarating as it was terrifying. You were currently situated at the rooftop of your art institution. Every evening, you came here and tried to create a somewhat decent painting of the evening sky. And every evening, you failed.

You mastered the skill of painting fruit baskets and fields of flowers. You could recreate the face of a person you had met for the first time with deadly precision. So why could you not paint something as simple as the sunset? Children could paint it. Hell, Kindergarteners could finger-paint the sunset, yet you couldn’t. Why?

Walking to the edge, you gripped the thin metal railing. It always amazed you at how fast the night changes. Now, as you looked at the early night sky, all traces of the colours had bled into one – a magnificent shade of midnight blue. The cold winds of nightfall pierced the thin layer of your shirt. You wrapped your hands around your body as you attempted to warm yourself. In vain, you rubbed your hands up and down each other until you felt a hint of warmth spread across your body.

The night held so many mysteries.

You turned around to wipe off the wet paint on your palette and you put it, along with your brush, into your bag. Slinging the back on your shoulder, you picked up your easel and walked to the room across from you. The room was small and mainly used for storage. Sometimes, you would find couples inside it. Those encounters never ended well.

You made a silent prayer in your head as you turned the brass door knob to the room. To your surprise, the light was already on. You could’ve sworn that you turned them off when you came to get the equipment. Hesitantly stepping inside, you put down the easel at the back of the room.

Whoosh, the door closed. The sound made you jump and you heard a deep chuckle come from beside you.

You let out a shriek as you made eye contact with none other than Jeon Jungkook.

“Jungkook!” you shoved the boy in front of you, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“Oh Y/N! Y-you s-should’ve seen y-your face,” Jungkook tried to imitate your reaction before he doubled over with laughter once again. “Oh man, y-you looked s-so terrified,” he spluttered.

You felt a smile of your own forming before you crossed your arms together and bit your lip. You tried your best to stay mad at him. You never could, but you tried. Every time.

Jungkook’s  amber orbs blazed with the golden light of a summer evening. His eyes reminded you of a sunset – no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t manage to look away.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N,” Jungkook waved his hand in front of your face. You snapped out of your trance and shifted your gaze from his face to the ground.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? Did I go too far? Do you want to hit me? You can hit me, just don’t hit my face. It’s the only thing I have going for me,” he offered you a comforting smile.

His smile alone was enough to make you feel better.

You shook your head and opened your mouth to speak, “Jungkook, just… don’t scare me like that ever again.”

He nodded and moved across the room. You thought he was going to leave until he walked back to you with a brown bag in his hands. Instantly, the smell of Tteokbokki hit your nostrils and you felt your mouth water a little. You hadn’t eaten since lunch. You reached out to take the bag when it was pulled away from your grasp.

Nuh uh,”Jungkook waggled his finger at you, “first, you have to show me your painting. You never show me your paintings of the sunset.”

“Um, no. There’s a reason why and that’s because they’re all trash. Absolute trash.”

“You’re being way too critical of yourself. Your paintings are never short of amazing.”

“But you haven’t seen these ones, that’s why you’re saying this.”

“Then show me,” Jungkook said.

You took a hold of both of his hands and looked up at him pleadingly

“Jungkook… please don’t make me.”

He huffed and looked away. You wondered what he was thinking about.

You heard the rustle of the paper bag as he handed it to you. “Thank you, kookie. I owe you one,” you said as you took a bite of the soft rice cake.

“Don’t thank me, I know you hadn’t had dinner so I brought you some food. It’s what friends are for,” he shrugged his shoulders as he reached for a rice cake.

You momentarily stopped chewing. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop in disappointment every time you heard that word.


The two of you walked out of the room and sat on the cold, concrete floor.

The night sky was a sharp contrast to the once melodic array of warm colours – it was now black as ink, the only light illuminating from the stars.

“Hey, Jungkook.“


“Remember the Twinkie on the bus? The one I gave you in second grade?”

“The one you found on the floor and gave me without telling me? Nice.”

You grinned and gave him a rice cake. “It never really fell on the floor. I made that part up.”

You couldn’t see his face but you could tell that he was smiling.

“Hey, Y/N”


“I-I think that I’m going to tell Hyojin that I love her,” he had mentioned out of the blue.

Your chest tightened, the same way it did when Jungkook first told you about his crush on your sister. You felt a tingling, itchy feeling clawing up your throat and stopping midway. It felt like a hairball that had been stuck, but you managed to swallow it down with some water. You sat still, vision blurring, and in that moment, you heard your heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower’s stem.

“Y/N, are you okay? You look like you’re –“

“I’m okay, Jungkook. I just choked a little on the rice cake when I tried to talk at the same time,” you lied, clutching the brown paper bag resting in your lap.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow but did not question further. “Well, what do you think I should do?”

“You should do what you feel is right.”

You couldn’t make out Jungkook’s face. You only saw the highlighted parts of his face as the moonlight shone down upon him.

“What do you think is right?”

“It doesn’t matt—“

What do you think is right?”

You sighed, “you really love her, don’t you?”

“With all my heart.“

“Maybe”, you said gently, “you’re trying too hard to hear it. Don’t say it yet.”

Jungkook’s face fell faster than a corpse in cement boots. You saw his body go rigid, his mouth hung with lips slightly parted and his eyes were slightly widened at your statement. Slowly, the shock wore off of his face and was replaced with a gaze that felt like an act of violence – a glare to stop your heart. You heard him as he scoffed, “…unbelievable.”

You felt your temper rise at Jungkook’s audacity to scoff at you, “what? You asked for my opinion and so I gave you my opinion. Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Jungkook laughed heartlessly, looking down at you as if you were a complete stranger. “I’m going to tell her,” he said with an air of finality and a tinge of annoyance directed towards you.

Instead of lowering your head you lifted it, a stony glare carved into your dark eyes. Anger blurred your sight but you tightened your jaw and glared at him, “and what am I supposed to do? Sit by while you date other girls and fall in love with someone else and get married?” Your voice tightened, “And meanwhile, I’ll die a little bit more every day, watching.”

Jungkook turned, but too slowly to be normal. When he spook his voice trailed slowly, like his words were unwilling to take flight. There was a sadness in his eyes, the brown too glossy, “Y/N, p-please, stop. Y-you’re just…jealous, just admit it,” you heard the slight hesitance in his words. “You know what, I’ll help you find someo—”

“Yes! I’ll admit, I am jealous. I’m jealous of every minute you spend with her, of every concerned expression you send her way, of every tear shed, of every glance, every touch, and every thought. I want to rip her to pieces and purge her from your mind and from your heart. But I can’t.” before you could register what was happening, your brain made a decision of its own.

“Y/N, please don’t—“

Words flew from your mouth that you never thought you’d even think, let alone say out loud. You knew instantly from the look in his eyes that they’d hit their mark. In that instant, your relationship shattered into glassy shards. Nothing would ever be the same again.

“I love you,” you blurted out. “I-I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.”

Jungkook shot up, his tall stature looming over your own. You stood up beside him, with your arms crossed and your eyes locked on him. It takes him a while to realize that you weren’t joking. You got up on your feet, standing a few inches away from him. "J-Jungkook?” you placed your hand on his arm in an effort to comfort him. Jungkook shoved your hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” Just a few words, but they brought tears to your eyes. You never thought this was how it would feel to have your heart broken.

“Jungkook, please. Don’t do this.” You pleaded him as you covered your face with your hands and wiping away your tears.

Oh no! I’m not doing anything here. I told you not to say it and yet you still said it.” Jungkook was now shouting at you.

“I’m sorry,” you sounded like you were choking on your tears. You never could keep your emotions under control; you couldn’t fight away the tears. You stepped forward, trying to reach out to him. Jungkook put his hands in front of him, halting you from taking another step.

“I said don’t touch me,” Jungkook’s voice cracked. Under the moonlight, you could see that his cheeks reflected your own tear-stained ones.

You didn’t try to get closer to him again. You sat down and tucked your knees to your chest, putting your elbows on your knees, and covered your face with your hands, then started to breathe slowly.

Silence gnawed at your insides. It hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground. You needed to fill the void with sounds, words, anything. The silence was poisonous in its nothingness, cruelly underscoring how vapid your conversation had become – it clung to you two like a poisonous cloud that at any moment could choke the life from them.

You couldn’t stand the deafening silence anymore. “Jungkook,” you whispered, not daring to look at the face in front of you. “I-I love you and I can’t stop loving you. You overtake my affections and leave my heart in shattered disarray of pieces. Every single time you steal a part of me, you make it impossible for me to put myself together. I know you can never love me and yet I always delude myself in the fantasy that maybe, just maybe, you’ll learn to love me back. Why is that? Perhaps I hope that you return what you’ve stolen. You never do. You smile, and it’s intoxicating. Your fingers brush through my hair, and it’s addicting. You laugh, and it’s contagious. You and your flirtatious self. But I know, and you know that you could never — would never return the love I shared with you.”

“You love Hyojin,“ you continued for him. "I know. Y-you’re in love with…her,” the bitter taste of those words lingered on your tongue.

Your eyes met his warm brown ones. “Yes,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling. “It’s her. It’s always been her.”

Jungkook’s words fell out of his mouth like vapour but landed in your guts as shrapnel. You felt your insides tear, and the blood drain from your face. You would have laughed but he was dead serious. His eyes were cold like you’d never seen and his features immobile. He handed back the painting you gave him just yesterday and you let it fall as soon as its weight had hit your palm. There was the mute sound of paper on cement but neither of you moved to pick it up. You were trying to understand the words he told you but you couldn’t. Then he turned to go, shoulders sunken and his hands in his pockets. Before you knew what you were doing you were standing in his way and locked eyes, the perfect distance for a kiss, but he shook his head. You could see your pain mirrored in his dark eyes.

“I’m sorry that I love you, Jungkook,” you said through your tears.

“Y/N, please. Let me go.”

“I can’t – not like this. Let’s talk about this. Please.”

There isn’t anything to talk about.”

Jungkook’s eyes were trained on some invisible specter behind you. His heavy eyelids took a fraction too slow to blink, his irises too stationary. It was as if his brain was suffering a massive short circuit and was struggling to compute. You moved into his line of sight, touching his cheek with the side of your thumb, your lips forming a pensive grin. Jungkook’s head tilted upward to your face, his eyes sliding into focus. Your voice came out in a breathy whisper, “can I just have one kiss?”

Jungkook made no motion to move and so, you leaned in. all of your senses were screaming at you to pull back, to step away from Jungkook – your sister’s boyfriend. And yet, you couldn’t. You knew he didn’t love him back, but you couldn’t resist. You leaned in a little closer, your foreheads touching. Dear god, you couldn’t fight against the thoughts that were going through you. His very smell was flooding his senses now.

“No!” he seemed to snap out from whatever trance he was previously in. “No, I thought you were my friend,” Jungkook yelled. He pulled himself away from you as if he touched a hot coal. Jungkook turned around and made a mad dash towards the exit.

“Wait! Jungkook,” you called after him. “Please,” you closed your eyes, pleading.

He didn’t.


Title: Seduction

Summary: His mission was to seduce the angel, not to fall in love with her.

Characters: Natsu, Lucy, Zeref, Erza, Jellal

Pairing: Natsu/Lucy

Genre: Romance/Comfort

Word Count: 1,107

Also found on

“I don’t understand, Natsu.”

Onyx eyes snapped open at the sound of his name, peering up quizzically at the gorgeous angel. Her head hovered above his, her golden hair like a curtain around the duo, the tips of them tickled his chin. “What dontcha understand?”

With his horned head laying on her lap, her slim fingers absent-mindedly threaded through his thick, pink hair. He didn’t complain as he felt her red painted nails scrape lightly against his scalp. She dragged her hand around his slightly curved horn down to his ink-stained cheeks as she answered his question. “Why haven’t you completed your mission yet?”

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{ five’s company }

t/w: none

french used:

bonjour - hello

oui - yes

mon cher - my dear

magnifique - magnificent

comment allez-vous? - how are you?

mon coeur - my heart

au revoir - goodbye 

inbox || masterlist


Lafayette needed a break. After being on his feet for almost half of the day, he finally had a chance to take a breather and retreat to the bathroom. He washed his hands, splashed his face, and tried to wake up. He missed his boys. He missed you. 

A newfound energy came about him when he looked at the time on his phone. He was almost done. This was his last assignment then he’d get to be home. He thought about going to Hercules’ studio. He just wanted to be near one of you and since Hercules had the most flexible hours, it wasn’t like Hercules could really get in trouble for having his boyfriend in his office. 

Plus, maybe he could look at the pretty dresses and nice suits his boyfriend made. 

If not, he was sure he could at least pop in to see John or Alex. Mr. Washington was a dear friend to him and he was sure that the older man would be more excited to see him rather than immediately ask him to leave.

He decided to go to Hercules. Maybe they could get lunch together. 

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Dream Sweet in Sea Major 2

When considering traditional standards of beauty or masculine charm, the features that made Yagura recognizable were not often considered. A notable scar below the one eye, irises colored bleeding pink, and a diminished stature that confused him with children if viewed from behind. No, Yagura was not what tradition would call beautiful, but he was other things.

Among those things he was old, considerably old, and in all the years of his long existence he had learned how to be. He knew what angles worked for him, what lighting suited his features, and how to lower his tenor to a velvet edged voice that could turn razor sharp in a second.  He knew how to hold himself, how to dress himself, how to carry himself. He knew his worth and his worth was pretty damn high. The world was meant for him and was his. He acted as haughty as he pleased and the world slid right into his palm.

It gave him no little delight to be proven time and time again that the world was his to manipulate and take from as he pleased. The woman in the doorway seemed to do nothing more than stoke his already engorged ego.

There was blood across the floor and a dead hand under the toe of his designer shoes. Yagura leaned his head to the side and lowered his lids before lifting a rolled cigarette to his lips and cupping the end. A small burn of red and the end caught and began to smoke.  

With the toe of his shoe he poked under the dead hand and kicked it up so it flopped back down onto the face of the corpse just as he took a long drag to exhale in semi dramatic fashion. The woman in the doorway didn’t move, and her eyes were still glued in appreciation to his figure even though half the other employees were scared and hiding.

“That’s enough for now,” he said to the other boys, turning away so the tail ends of his jacket flapped like a cape behind him. It made his walk all the more purposeful as he walked past the hungry woman and left her wanting. He didn’t even glance her way as he called out to the boys behind him.

“I think they got the message here. We’ll be back in the hour though if they step into our turf again.”

“You think we needed to leave so few alive?” Haku asked in a clear voice that reminded Yagura of the ice.

“Ao?” Yagura grunted before exhaling smoke again.

Ao came up behind Hake and purposefully stopped to turn and look behind them before pulling his gun out from the front breast pocket of his gray pinstripe. He aimed in less than a second and recoiled only slightly when the shot rang out and sank into the woman in the doorway’s forehead.

Slowly, purposefully, Ao put his gun away and reached for his hat instead. The rack had all their hats, as well as a few others that would never be worn by their owners again.

Yagura fit his fedora and pulled the front down low over his eyes before stepping out. A thin mist had settled and every so often the rain would come and wet the world further. It was perfect weather and the Mizu boys were all the stronger for it.

Haku begrudgingly followed his betters out and kept his head down, least his questions lead to more avoidable bloodshed. One woman was too risky to leave alive if she sported a handgun in the belt on her thigh? Apparently.

Ao drove, but Yagura rode from the backseat and was the real directioner for their group. If he didn’t want to go back to Mei’s place than they didn’t have to. She was technically their boss and really the only person that could handle Yagura enough to boss him into doing things for her.

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A/N: So, this is my first smut, and I’m super nervous about posting it. Sorry if there’s any mistakes, it was a bit rushed since I wanted to finish and submit it in time for Smut Week. So I did the best I could, especially since all my knowledge of what sex is like comes from fan fiction or friends. Hope you enjoy some AU Negan!

Summary: Being the kind and helpful student you are, you join Coach Negan after school to help grade some Health quizzes. One little accident occurs, and one thing leads to another.

Word Count: 3,033 words

Pairing: Teacher! Negan/ Student! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal sex, Oral sex, Inappropriate behavior in a classroom, Swearing

Tags: @negansmutweek @negans-network

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Adorably Creative

Fandom: Undertale/Underswap AU

Rating: PG

Genre: Fluff, humour, romance. 

Warnings:  Mild Fontcest/swapcest, very mild swearing. 

Summary:  As usual, Sans comes back from training, happy and excited, except this time, he arrives home ‘marked’. Papyrus is not pleased, until he finds the creative little secret his brother was trying to hide~

Papyrus was just laying on the couch, he had the t.v. on, but he wasn’t really paying attention, he was pretty close to just dozing off, until he heard his younger brother burst in through the door, announcing his return in his ever eccentric manner.

The taller skeleton couldn’t help but hum in amusement, and he sat up on the couch so he could greet his little bro properly.

“Hey bro, how was-” He trailed off when he saw Sans standing in front of him. Usually seeing his little bro always made him happy, but right now, the seeing the state of his brother, he couldn’t decide if he should be shocked or enraged.

Sans noticed his older brothers funny looks, and the younger brother became concerned. He gently placed a hand on his brothers knee, squeezing gently as he spoke softly.

“Papy? Brother? Are you ok?”

The sound of Sans voice seemed to snap Papyrus out of his shocked state, and finally the anger settled in.

Papyrus grabbed his brother by both wrists, his grips firm and tight, so his brother couldn’t pull away.

“Papy! Wha-” “Shush, Sans!”

A tiny whimper escaped the younger brothers mouth, but Papyrus didn’t seem to notice, he seemed to focused on looking at the markings all over his little brothers bones.

On Sans left arm was a crude inking of a blue and white dragon, drawn to look like it wrapped around the humerus, down to the radius and looped around and stopping at the ulna.

On Sans right arm, it was a mess of ink, blues, pinks, greens, purples, random splashes of the colours, a long with very awkwardly drawn anime looking characters.

“Undyne.” Papyrus growled.

“D-don’t be mad at her, Papy! U-Undyne found this ink machine, in the dump, an-and Alphys thought I’d look cool with some-” “Look cool?!”

Sans winced, it was so rare he heard his brother raise his voice, particularly at him.

“What made you think this was a good idea?! You let those two TATTOO you Sans! That shit is permanent!”

Sans was about to call his brother out on his bad language, but the words quickly died in his mouth when Papyrus shot him harsh look.

“Also, tattoos really work on SKIN, which we lack, so to get the needle in you, they’d have to etch your bones! Sans! How are you not in pain? No, why did you let them do that?! They didn’t exactly leave you with any works of art! I mean look at your hands!”

Sans automatically held out his hands, he was even inked on his phalanges, and badly at that. On the right hand, his inked phalanges read “LOVE” while on the left, read “HAT”

“That was supposed to be hate.” Sans sighed, flexing his phalanges. “ Together they were supposed to read LOVE and HATE, Alphys thought that’d make me look tough, but, Undyne ran out of ink. Now I’m just a love hat.”

Papyrus honestly didn’t know if he should laugh or lock his brother in his room, while he went and gave Alphys and Undyne a bad time.

He did neither.

Even though it was their fault! They knew Sans would do anything Alphys suggested, he wanted to be a guard like her, he looked up to her, he wanted to impress her so much, and she abused that trust and loyalty by doing this?

He’s not angry, not at Sans at least, this wasn’t his fault, he just wanted to seem cool.

With a sigh, Papyrus just let his hands slide down his brother arms, hands barley brushing against the inky bone. Papyrus gently took hold of Sans hands, he wanted to squeeze them, perhaps as a form of reassurance, but he didn’t want to hurt his little brother. He was still amazed that Sans hadn’t made a sound. It was like he wasn’t in pain at all.

He’s so cool.”

“Sans, did they ink you anywhere else?”

Papyrus couldn’t help but feel really uncomfortable when Sans nodded all to eagerly and began to giggle. “Yeah they did, on my shoulder blades. Wanna see? These are actually really good!”

Papyrus didn’t even get a chance to say yes or no, Sans had his shirt off already, and turned around, presenting his back art to his brother.

Decorating those small shoulder blade were beautifully detailed little wings. Papyrus couldn’t even deny that these were truly beautiful. They were so small, the feathering details were amazing.

No! No! Focus!

“ Bro, this isn’t a joke, what they did to you, they carved your bones! That’s not-” “What?” Sans interrupted and turned back around to face his brother.

“Carved my bones? What are you talking about, Papy?” the smaller skeleton asked, genuinely confused.

What in the Underground was Papyrus talking about?

The older brother stared for a moment, gaze hard. He gently cupped his little brothers face, thumbs gently rubbing over those small cheekbones.

“Bro, they tattooed you, that works great on skin, but not on bone, for that to work, you gotta be scratched, carved, for the design to stay. Bro, they used you as a doodle pad, they ruined your body, and for what? For fun? To seem more intimidating? Hate to break it to ya, but your LOVE, HAT isn’t very scary. Bro? Why are you grinning so much? Sans, this isn’t funny!”

When Sans began giggling, Papyrus let go of his face. He was getting pretty pissed now. This was serious and Sans was just thinking this was hilarious.

“Sans! This is no-” “Papy! You’re so silly! Undyne and Alphys didn’t carve me. This is paint! The ink machine Undyne found was for 'air brush’ painting, or something like that. It’s fake, it can come off, it’ll just take a while is all. They didn’t hurt me Papy, I promise.” Sans said as he wrapped his arms around his brother and hugged him tightly.

“Thanks for looking out for me, you’re the best brother. Love you Papy.”

Papyrus didn’t return the embrace, he was once again wrapped up in his emotions, he was sure what to feel. Relief? Or should he be angry that his brother let him believe he’d been craved for so long.

Groaning, Papyrus finally gave in and wrapped his arms around his little brother, hugging him tightly and gently pressing his teeth against the small skeletons skull.

“Next time they paint you up, make sure you remind me it’s just paint and not carvings.” “Mweheh, it’s a deal.”

Satisfied, Papyrus pulled back from Sans, so he was now slouching against the couch.

Lazy bones.

“So, heh, is this all the artwork they gave you? I hope they didn’t ask you to take off your pants to paint down there.”

He joked, and he expected his brother to tell him off, call him out for being lewd, but that never came, instead a blue blush dusted the younger skeletons face, and he would no longer make eye contact with Papyrus.

Papyrus felt his soul drop.

“Bro! What did they do?!”

Sans looked back at his brother, looking rather bashful. “W-well, I eh, um, asked them to paint the name of someone really important to me, but I wanted it done really nice, and since um, my shoulder blades were already occupied, um, eh, they suggested my hip bones.”

“YOUR WHAT?!” Without even thinking it through fully, Papyrus grabbed the waistband of Sans pants, and yanked them down to his knees.

“PAPY!” Sans cried and tried to pull his pants back up, but Papyrus grabbed his wrists, keeping him still.

Papyrus stared at the artwork on his brothers hip bone, it made his soul pound in his chest cavity.

The 'tattoo’ itself, was of a blue soul, with the name papyrus, written inside.


The younger skeleton quickly pulled his pants back up , grabbed his shirt, and made dash for the stairs, only to be blocked by Papyrus before he was able to step on the first step.

Stupid teleportation trick!

“Bro? There something you wanna tell me?”

Sans said nothing, he wouldn’t meet Papyrus’ gaze, he was so embarrassed , and he was kind of surprised that his brother hadn’t yelled at him. The 'tattoo’ was weird, you shouldn’t really have the name someone important to you inked near lewd places.

“Bro? Don’t be embarrassed. I really like it. It’s really pretty, and I really, really like the meaning. My name obviously represents me right? And the blue soul, represents you, blue being your favourite colour, makes that obvious too. Is that right bro? Do I really mean so much more than a regular bro to you? 'Cause I don’t think bro’s would usually have ink like that.”

Sans really just wanted the ground to open beneath him and swallow him hole. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this!

“Please answer me, bro. Just give me an answer.”

Sans couldn’t keep quiet anymore. “Yes ok?! I-I, you’re important to me! I love you Papy! More than brothers really should, but, I wanted this art, I wanted something for myself, so maybe I could pretend to myself! I’m mmmph!”

He was cut off by his brother, pressing his teeth against his own, in a sweet skeleton kiss.

When Papyrus pulled away, he couldn’t help but chuckle. The look his brother was giving was adorable, his sockets wide, his eyelights flaring, his face covered in a dark blue blush. He was so cute.

“Heh, I love you too bro. I think I’ll have to have my hips inked with your name, what do you think?”

The only response he got from his brother was spluttering nonsense.

The older brother laugh and he picked his little brother up and held him tight against his chest.

“You’re so cute bro, and so creative, designing something like that. Adorable.

“Y-yeaahh.” Was all sans could say before nuzzled into his brothers hoodie.

“Love you, Papy.”

Crumbs- Percival Graves (Part 1)

Pairings: Percival Graves/OC

Warnings: None, unless you need a warning that Percival will slay your soul with his perfection. 

Request: “SOMEDAY KILLED ME. I’m typing from the grave … to request more Percival, because I can’t deal. Maybe something with 50/102? (I’m weak for danger-dodging kisses.)”

50. In order to avoid a dangerous situation, both characters are forced to stay hidden in a small, enclosed space.

102. “Kiss me, quick!”

A/N: AH what is wrong with me? Why am I such a jabber jaw? I literally can’t write anything short to save my life so consider this the first part of a two part series. Hopefully I’ll have the next one done tomorrow. Once again, I’ve made up some characters and something for the sake of the plot but hope you don’t mind. Eek!

The sound of tiny, flapping wings was incessant. I narrowed my eyes, rolling up the sleeves of my cardigan, because now I meant business. The paper currently fluttering over my head, which had been intricately folded into the shape of a bird, didn’t seem at all phased by this. I had already decided to jinx whoever had thought it was a great idea to send me a memo and then charm it to act like an utter idiot when I tried to coax it down from the ceiling. It had to be a joke. I was sure that when I finally got my hands on the paper and opened it up, there would be a big ‘HA’ written in bold, dark letters. It would take some investigating to figure out just who the culprit what. It was a good thing that was what I did for a living.

“Alright, you stubborn piece of crap.” I muttered, brandishing my wand toward it. “Accio memo!”

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Here’s the promised continuation of my modern Feysand au that @feysand17 and a few anons requested! 

You don’t have to have read the first part, Cooking, to understand this one, but I would suggest it just for some back story. You can find it here.


Our boys’ night out had turned gossipy rather fast.

It never came as a shock when Cassian used the time he, Az, and I got together at the bar without the girls to talk about the girls.

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Little Mermaid AU! -Victuuri

Русалочка- Rusalochka- Little Mermaid 

AO3 Link (x)

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Fairy Tale 

Pairing: Victor Nickiforov / Yuuri Katsuki 


“Are you alright?” The man asked, words slightly slurred, although Victor hardly noticed. His recently waterlogged brain struggling to process anything as coherent as words.
“Wha-…ah…yeah….” Victor barely managed to drawl out of his slack mouth. His eyes finally were drawn down to what should have been the center of intrigue, the fish tail attached where legs should have gone. It was the deepest shade of black like a puddle of spilt ink. Intricate pattern of scales glistening iridescent like the rippled ocean surface on a full moon or a clear night full of stars.
“Ti….. takAya krasiva…..” Victor mumbled mostly to himself.
“What’s that mean?” The mermaid murmured back, eyelashes fluttering sweetly over cinnamon eyes.
“You’re beautiful.”

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Essays in Existentialism: FtWD II


Previously on FtWD

Even with the breeze wafting in from the ocean, the last bits of summer rage through the salt spray and blindingly blue sky. The trees all shake their leaves, filling the quiet world with the noise of their tap dancing feet while the birds cut through the wind and lazily squawk, half-hearted and disinterested.

“Not like that,” Elyza shakes her head. “Do it again.”

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[Possession] - Widowmaker x Tracer

I was in the mood for something a little different than my usual FFXIV sketches, so I thought - why not some dodgy Overwatch art?

Better even, this one has a story behind it - written by the lovely @alicienacorvin - so please go read below (and reblog)!

———————————————- <3

“Do not squirm so much, cheri,” Amélie said in a murmur.

Her voice was low and breathy, a purr that made Lena writhe even as she was told not to. Goosebumps raised across Lena’s skin as Amélie’s cool breath fanned across her neck. Lena huddled back against the taller woman, back arched and head bowed forward. Amélie’s lips brushed along her neck, up to the sensitive skin just behind her earlobe, and Lena let out a low groan.

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A/N:Hey guys! Early update cus you guys made me feel so loved with your response to learning that I had been having a rough time last week, and sometimes you just need random validation, you know? That sounds horrible written down, but eh. 

So yes, ANGST. So much angst in this extra long chapter, but it’s past angst. My poor babies. 

Natsu Dragneel is just an ordinary 21 year old trying to get by on his craft’s business, keep his landlady off his ass, and grow his friendship with his new weird neighbour Lucy. Without revealing that he’s a witch. Or his cat can fly and talk. So maybe Natsu isn’t that normal. Things take a serious left turn for him when people from his past start showing up, and he and Lucy as well as some new -and old- friends travel across Fiore trying to find some answers. But the question is, will they be happy with what they find?

Wiccan!Natsu AU

Pairings: Nalu, Fairy Tail

Words: 7601

Rating: M

Part: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen,Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty One, Part Twenty Two, Part Twenty Three

3 months.

Natsu had been sleeping over, raiding her fridge, invading every aspect of her life so fully that Lucy didn’t think the two were separable anymore, for 3. Damn. Months.

And the bastard still hadn’t kissed her.

Now Lucy would be the first to admit that she was oblivious to men’s and women’s attentions -never fully able to decide if someone was flirting with her or just being nice- but even Lucy knew there was something going on between her and Natsu. They were constantly touching, holding hands or cuddling on the couch, bumping shoulders with one another or even playing footies when one of them was feeling particularly brave. Lucy may have become addicted to running her hands through his wild hair, detangling knots with her fingers and twirling the long, fluffy strands around her fingertips. Natsu was no better, constantly taking down her hair only to put it back up in new arrangements of pony and pigtails, Lucy having to fight back her sighs of happiness when she felt his rough hands trail through her hair. Now that she thought about it, both of them needed to get their hair trimmed. But that was besides the point, and Lucy had half a mind to grab Natsu by the shoulders and shake him, screaming ‘what are we?’ until he gave a suitable answer.

Lucy needed to spend less time on the internet.

But more importantly, Lucy needed to get laid.

At least according to Cana, but Lucy wasn’t going to be the one to disagree with her alcoholic friend. This wasn’t exactly what she should be thinking about right now, but really it was Natsu’s fault. He had pulled her down so her head laid neatly on his chest as they lounged on the couch, some fake documentary about dragon’s playing in the background. Her body was completely covering his, hips falling between his open legs and one arm buried into the cushions of the couch while the other was dangling off the edge. But it wasn’t their intimate position that had started Lucy down this inappropriate train of thought. No, it was Natsu’s fingertips trailing up and down her spine in lazy movements, heat flaring through her thin shirt with every pass.

She nestled her head higher up so that it was tucked under his chin, shifting one arm so that she was cupping the back of Natsu’s shoulder. She felt more than heard his breath catch at her blatant move, and Lucy felt a small spark of hope grow that maybe, finally, Natsu would get the hint. Instead he settled his hands more firmly on the small of her back and stopped his lazy movements.

Lucy was soon unable to help the large grin that pulled at her lips, though, as ever so slowly his fingers snuck underneath her shirt - that honestly was Natsu’s shirt. Hey, she did his laundry half the time and deserved a few compensations- and spread so his hand was laid flat on her skin. Lucy hummed at the contact, nuzzling the column of his throat with her nose, face buried into his scarf.

And that was when the heat returned.

Lucy had recognized a pattern -no matter how strange it was- that whenever her and Natsu had skin on skin contact for too long the temperature around them would spike. It had grown less noticeable the more time they spent together, but Lucy was highly attuned to it now.  The way it spiked depended on Natsu’s mood. Dry air made it harder to breathe when he was angry, a hazy warmth when he was relaxed and content, low and heavy waves when he was sad - something that Lucy had only seen a few times when they had talked vaguely about their home lives. Neither went into too much detail, only sharing with each other that they had basically grown up alone-. Finally there was the ‘sexually frustrated’ heat, as Lucy had so lovingly dubbed it. Sweltering humidity surrounded them, making sweat drip down Lucy’s skin and her muscles want to just melt into him and never let go.

It was her favourite one.

Lucy had made it a game with herself to see how many times she could make this heat come up, her record being 12 in one week. Lucy was proud of that fact, even if she told anyone they would think she was insane. And she might be, because the more time she spent with Natsu the more Gray’s warnings from the lunch made sense. Natsu wasn’t normal. The tattoo’s on his fingers seemed too symbolic to mean nothing, as did the tattoo on his back, and Lucy had realized at some point that the herbal and smoky scent that Natsu carried with him wasn’t some cologne but rather the result of his projects. His clothes always reeked of the stuff when Lucy had to wash them -she really needed to teach Natsu how to do proper laundry-  and strange splashes of colourful liquids always managed to find their way onto his sweats and tank tops. Not to mention the runes that Lucy had found on some of the presents he had given her over the weeks.

Nothing was ever as extravagant as the birdcage, -Lucy had made sure to lecture that into Natsu’s skull the one time he asked if she wanted a full size center piece- instead he showered her with miniature figures, bookmarks, small drawings or paintings, and even a few simple pieces of jewellery. Lucy had attempted to refuse the last ones, but Natsu was adamant, giving her puppy dog eyes until she accepted. At the thought of it her favourite piece, a simple silver band shaped to look like a dragon curling around her finger that sat above her mother’s engagement ring on her middle finger, began to warm, a soothing feeling to remind Lucy that it was there. For some reason it made her feel protected, as though the dragon would bite out anyone’s eyes who tried to hurt her.

She had a feeling Natsu had made it like that.

She also had a feeling Natsu was a witch.

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Breathe : Poe Dameron

      You reached up, wiping the sweat from your brow. The sun was beating down hot on the Resistance base. This didn’t help you at all with having to fix some damaged X-Wings on the rough pavement. You got up, moving to a torn up black and orange ship, and started to assess what had to be done.

    It needed a new paint job, that was for sure. You reached up stroking the dented and damaged metal as if it were a dog’s soft ear.

“Beautiful isn’t it? I mean, despite all of the chips in the paint.”

    You turned on your heels to see the owner of the X-Wing, Poe Dameron. His black curls were tousled, some falling onto his forehead. He had his orange, Resistance issued piloting suit on, the arms of it tied around his waist. He looked at you, awaiting your answer, with warm brown eyes.

“Yes, you have one of the best X-Wing models. Treat her right.” You said, hating how the words sounded coming from your mouth.

    Poe looked at you with a slightly crooked smile, his white teeth visible between his lips. He walked forward, towards you and the ship, and you felt your own heart quicken. He was intimidatingly attractive, and everyone wanted him no matter the gender or race. And You were actually talking to him, and he was less than 6 feet away from you. This whole situation seemed wrong, unlikely at the least, but here it was. Unfolding in front of you.

“This heap of metal has nothing against you, Y/N. You’re more eye-catching.” Poe said, turning to face you. You felt a blush on you cheeks and your tugged at your black long sleeves.

“I’m more alive anyway…”

   You said quietly, and you heard Poe chuckle. You looked up at him, somewhat in shock. You had made him laugh. You wanted to do it again. Make him laugh forever. It was like a song, sung from a heavy heart. Meaningful.

  You found yourself staring at him, and when he noticed, you looked away hastily. You went back to work on his ship, crawling beneath it. It was silent, the type of quiet you liked the most. You looked back, out from underneath the X-Wing, and saw Poe’s boots. You took your bottom lip In Between your teeth in confusion.

   Why was he still here, is he that protective of his ship? You didn’t blame him. You yourself would worry about your ship when it was placed in the hands of someone you didn’t know. Realizing this, a wave a worry, fear of messing up, clouded your thoughts.

  You made your way from underneath the ship’s metal. You reached your arms around part of the ship, hauling yourself out from under it. Once you were on your feet, you brushed off the dirt that had gathered on your black shirt and tan pants. When you were done, you looked up to see Poe, still standing where he was before, watching you with soft features.

  “What?” You asked, looking him feeling a little panicked. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him.

     “Nothing…I just never pegged you as a tattoo kind of girl.” He asked, his voice faltering slightly. You felt a wave of warmth wash over you at his words. He must’ve seen it when you were getting up. Fear raced through you, and you tried to calm down.

   “….y-yeah…” You said, wanting to slap yourself for basically confirming what he saw.

      Staring you in the eyes. His eyes still held that warmth they did before but something else lingered in his gaze.

  He stepped towards you, his hand gripped yours. You almost gasped at his touch; it was foreign, but it held a gentle familiarity. His other hand pulled your long sleeve up, revealing your wrist. “Breathe?” He asked, his voice soft and caring.

     You looked down, seeing your small tattoo that read ‘breathe’ in a bold font. His fingers traced the black lettering inked on your skin.

  “It’s just a reminder.” You said, feeling your own smile forming on your lips. He smiled back at you, his brown eyes happy. he let out a small laugh, causing you smile wider, “What’s the meaning of it?” he released your hand, and took on a more serious look and tone, “Why did you get it?”

    You looked at your wrist, the word printed there in your skin. You smiled at it, then looked back at him. His eyes were caring as he waited for your answer.

   “I used to, still do, have anxiety….” You took a shaky breath before continuing, “It made me worry so much….it made me feel lonely. I didn’t want to feel horrible anymore, I wanted to be free in a way, from it. So I got this, to remind me that as long as I’m alive, I can go somewhere. Do something without having to worry about everything else.”

   You let out a small sigh, and looked back up to Poe. His eyes were teary, and full of compassion and sorrow.

   “I didn’t know….” He said, rubbing his eyes, wishing away the visible trace sadness. “It’s okay Poe! You wouldn’t have known.” You said, placing your hands carefully on his shoulders.

   He looked back at you, and before you knew what was happening, you felt his arms wrap around you. You fell into his embrace, letting your arms wrap around his torso, you hand gripping the material of his black undershirt. You felt every worry, every trace of depression being lifted off of your shoulders. You never wanted to leave. You felt secure and safe for the first time in a while.

   Gently, Poe pulled back just enough to look at you. You met his gaze and felt like crying. His compassion and caring was almost inhuman. You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but it was quickly wiped away by the pad of Poe’s thumb. He leaned his face towards your ear and said, “It’s okay.”

    You pulled away from him, courage racing through your veins. He was close, your breaths mingling in the air around you. “It finally is.” You whispered, remembering all of the times you had seen Poe around the base and wondering what he was like. Thinking about him, and now realizing that you should’ve just talked to him.

  He smiled down at you, his eyes searching yours. So much did you want to kiss him, but you didn’t want to risk it. You just leaned into him again, and he held you tightly. You felt his lungs expanding, filling with air. You heard his heart beating soundly against your ear, and it was peaceful.

    “Y/N, would you like to go out sometime?” He asked, his voice strong but caring. “We can do whatever you please, but I won’t be able to stop thinking about you if you say no so…you’ll be dooming me to lifelong agony….” You laughed against his chest, his words filling you with a joy long since forgotten. You looked up at him, pressing your lips in a thin line before answering him.

     “Yes. I would like that. Very much.” He smiled at you, and released you from his hold. The corners of your lips, and his, fell in a slight frown but Poe explained his movements. “Alright, I’ll get planning, and you should fix my X-Wing before General Organna finds you slacking off.” A cheesy grin made its way to his face, and you felt your own smile forming.

   He walked away with a wave, leaving you to wonder further about him. Wonder about how your date would go. Just the thought brought heat to your face, and for butterflies to tickle the inside of your stomach. You took in a breath, and smiled looking down at your wrist and the word that had brought you and Poe closer together than you could’ve ever imagined.

Famous Last Words

Summary:  In a world where the last words your soulmate will say to you are written on your wrist, fearful and introverted Phil works in a bookstore. His greatest fear? The words counting down the seconds until he meet his soulmate, someone called ‘Dan.’ But it isn’t until he befriends a university student that he nicknames ‘Bear’ that Phil realizes that surviving through fear isn’t the same as living.

A/N: Sometimes these things seem to go along smoothly exactly in the way and direction the writer wants them too. Or so they say at least. I’ve never actually had that happen to me before.

Happy actual birthday Emu!

This chapter is dedicated to Elana, who to this day was one of the first people to put up with my fangirling and though she may not look like much height wise, her kindness, intelligence, and overall wonderful personality makes up for it in full.

                Previous Chapter         Masterpost          Next Chapter

Chapter Three   

     The book was sitting on his desk when he arrived the next day. A blue sticky-note stuck out of the top of the pages, something scrawled across the top with a black sharpie. Phil hung his coat on the back of his chair, taking a seat and pulling the book towards him. Balancing a cup of coffee in one hand, he opened to the sticky-note.

     The message looked like it had been written in a hurry, although it was still a lot neater than Phil’s handwriting could ever be. Before he had even read the note he knew who it was from. He brushed his thumb over the writing as he gently removed the note and stuck it to his desk.

     I finished this last night and I figured you might not have read it yet.

     Smiling, Phil flipped the book shut, reading the title. Seconds.

    Without a second thought he turned on the light, leaning back in his chair and opening to page one. If his manager walked in  he was screwed, but the urge was too tempting and his willpower was too weak.

      As he turned the page, Phil caught himself thinking about what Bear’s thoughts had been whilst reading Seconds. If there was someone with a definite opinion, it would be Bear. While it seemed on a surface level at least that Bear chose not to talk more than was necessary, their last conversation had shown Phil that there was an intelligent if somewhat sarcastic personality hidden underneath a layer of shyness and insecurity.

     The bell jingled and he reluctantly bookmarked his page, plastering a smile on his face. Part of him was hoping that it was going to be Bear, but he knew it wasn’t before he had even registered who it was.

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Without you - Katakura Kojuro (Angst)

Tagging: @saesha, @susucakes, @prfxn, @kitty-kat-ty

A/N: Since I’ve been making Yakov suffer so much, I wrote this for a change. I mean, I have a ton of things about Yakov, so it was time for writing another character. I will apologize now because I know you will hate me. Just like I hate myself for writing this. I’m sorry. I’m a masochist. Let’s all suffer together lol.

Yet, Kojuro never let her go, clinging to her desperately, to bring her back somehow. But they all knew it was impossible, as Lord Masamune and Shigezane only looked at their friend clinging to her death body, whispering sweet things in a useless attempt to keep her presence with them.

Without you

“Lord Kojuro, I’ve brought your dinner”

She stepped inside, a loving smile on her lips as she put down the tray in her hands. Then, she saw the state of the room and she felt her blood boiling in her veins. Kojuro didn’t dare to look up, knowing the scold that would surely come, and so he decided it was better to play innocent this time. Books scattered everywhere, bottles of ink completely empty, and papers used to try new brushes were only a small part of the mess that his room had become this time.

“Didn’t we clean this place just last week?”, she asked, putting her hands on her hips as a frown appeared on her face.

“Uhm… Well, yes”, he smiled boyishly, laughing off the matter. She raised her eyebrow.

Giving him one last scolding look, she started picking up stuff to throw it out. Sometimes, when she heard the maids talking about how efficient, diligent, and mature he was, she wished she could show them the state of his room. But no, at the same time, she was glad she was the only one he let see that side of himself. That meant he had nothing to hide from her, and he loved that.

Noticing that the apparent rage had already vanished from her, Kojuro stood up and got closer, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing her tiny body against him in a tight embrace. She gasped, not expecting him to be so close, but she relaxed immediately. He laughed, delighted with her reaction, as he nuzzled against her neck.

“Don’t even try it”, she threatened. “You’ll help me clean this place again, so don’t get distracted”

“Oh, so I’m distracting you?”, he smirked, pressing her more against him.

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Family and Country

Hercules x Female Reader


Word Count: 2336

A/N: So this is something I thought up a while ago, and am finally getting around to writing. Sorry I promised something last weekend! Midterms were a bit more overwhelming than I thought they would be. Also, sorry for the angst that should become obvious with something that shouldn’t seem right pretty quickly. Enjoy! (Also, I thought up a little sequel to this while I was writing. I’ll probably write it someday [it might include a little reunion], but it’ll probably be awhile until I get to it, unless someone messages me they want it moved up on the list!)

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Woc Series: Wrapping Headscarf

Hi *waves* I’m starting WOC Harry Imagine Series and this is my first imagine


You glanced at the bright light of your clock radio as the first yawn of the night made itself past your full lips.


The green numbers caused your stomach to do a tiny flip, making you acutely aware of the fact that tonight would be a milestone in your relationship.  If it were a normal night then you’d be pouting as you said your goodbyes and goodnights to your boyfriend of 5 months.  If it were a normal night then you’d be getting ready for bed by yourself. But tonight wasn’t a normal night and you were as nervous as you were grateful.

Harry tightened his grip around your shapely hips as you nuzzled into his warm neck, the sounds of the tv merely background noise to your racing thoughts.  His hands wandered lazily to your sides before rubbing them, his hands tightening when your warm breath hit that sensitive spot on his neck.

“This is a nice change,” he hummed.  You smiled in agreeance.  It truly was a nice change and something that you two had been building up to for weeks.  And now with you nestled up amongst your tall boy, feet and legs tangled together on your small couch, nothing felt more right.  Finally, Harry was spending the night over at your place, and the enormity of the fact didn’t escape you.

 The two of you spent the next 30 minutes in each other’s arms, watching the last of one of the American reality shows that Harry was too engrossed in.  He was practically in tears by the end when his favorite person was rejected and sent home. Lovingly, you ran your fingers through his hair in a soothing gesture.  It was getting longer now and had lost some of its curliness that he had been known for, but for you it was symbolic of how much he had grown.  Harry smiled at your actions before looking down at you, newfound excitement present in his green eyes.

 “Reckon we should go to bed, yea?”  He asked, his tone cluing you in to the fact that he knew just how much his question meant.  He had been wanting this for months now, placing careful hints amongst small conversations.  He had been surreptitiously leaving his things, a tee shirt here and a couple of his favorite rings there.  By now he had his own side of the dresser; something that caused him to fix you with a dimpled smile every time he passed by it.

With soft movements he untangled himself from you before standing up and offering you his hands.  You gripped them in your smaller ones and smiled as he pulled you up with ease, his inked biceps flexing easily.  Keeping one of your hands in his grip, he tugged you behind his broad figure as you sleepily shuffled your feet.  Your dark eyes dropped to your conjoined hands, your fingers interlaced. The sight of the two of you together was like artwork.

Admittedly, at first you were wary about going into this relationship.  Scared of what others would think and say.  The fans were harsh; the media outlets harsher, and often times Harry and you fought for this relationship.

However, in moments like these, with your hands comfortably encased in his, it made complete sense to fight like hell for what the two of you had.

Keeping your eyes on your clasped fingers, you allowed yourself to smile.  You had grown to love seeing the contrast of your darker skin against his paler one. It looked like something out of a fashion magazine — a high end look that made you proud.  You warmed at the sight and hoped you’d never stop feeling this way.

The two of you quickly made it to your bedroom, as your condo wasn’t too large.  It was truthfully just a few strides away from your living room, and with Harry’s long legs the two of you made it there rather quickly.  Having already washed up all that was left was finishing up the last of your nightly routine.  Harry was very simplistic, having already washed and delighted in using your products, was ready for bed and made a show of making his way over to your bed and pulling off his loose tee to leave his muscled abdomen bare, his sweatpants hanging low off of his hips.

“I’m so tired,” he mumbled as he rubbed at his eyes.  He was now on the left side of your bed, remembering a single conversation of when you stated that you could only sleep on the right side of your bed.  He had mocked you for some time about it, but tonight he was uncharacteristically serious about this, knowing just how much this night meant.

“Then lay down,” you chuckled at him as you moved towards your mirror which was situated above your dresser.  You heard your bed creak and looked up at him through your mirror to see he had gotten onto it.  You shook your head in amusement as you opened up the top drawer of your dresser.

 “What are you doing, love?  I want to cuddle.”  You could practically see Harry’s pout in his tone as you felt yourself blush at his questioning.  You weren’t ashamed of your culture, far from it, but your heart always beat faster when you were put in his situation.  You couldn’t help it as flashbacks from childhood sleepovers assaulted you.  The questions, stares, and judgmental giggles you got from the little white girls who didn’t understand.  It really wasn’t a big deal but for some reason you hesitated taking the head wrap out of its place in your drawer.

“Y/N?”  Harry asked, worry laced in his tired voice.  You shook your head slightly, knowing that you were being silly.  This was Harry.  Gentle, loving, understanding Harry.  He wouldn’t laugh and he wouldn’t ridicule.

You took a deep breath before pulling out the silky scarf, the cool texture of it helping to calm your nerves as you ran it through your fingers.  It was beautiful, multi-colored with a slue of colors that reminded you of a serene sunset. With a shy smile you closed the drawer and turned towards Harry, your eyes raking over his face.  His expression was pensive, his brows pulled together in confusion over why you had become so stiff and quiet.

“Y/N?”  He asked again, his voice coming out deep and whiny.  He was sat up on the bed now, watching you as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.  He had only seen you this way when you read the hate on social media or that one time when you had to tell on a fellow employee for his inappropriate actions.  It always worried him, but he was even more troubled; it was supposed to be a perfectly relaxing night and here you were looking equal parts scared and belittled.

With quick movements he got up and made his way over to you, softly grasping your right hand in a loose embrace once he was close enough.  Your face relaxed as he brought your hand up to brush gentle chaste kisses to your knuckles. He looked up from behind his eyelashes at you, his green eyes deep with emotion.  His other hand reached up to cup your cheek and you felt it warm under his grip.  All of a sudden you felt the need to cry.  He was just always so gentle, so sweet with you.

You couldn’t help but feel so trivial; you knew that something like this wouldn’t matter.  So why were you getting so choked up?

“Are you having second thoughts?”  His question looked like it pained him, but he still managed to get it out.  You shook your head quickly.

“Of course not, Haz,” you reassured him as he studied your face for any sign of regret.

 “Then what it is?  You’re worrying me, kitten.”  His thumb rubbed against the apple of your cheek in a soothing gesture.  You leaned your head into his embrace, soaking up his affection.

“It’s so silly, really,” you whispered your assurance but all it did was make his brows pull together.

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m really trying hard not to make this into a big deal, Haz. It’s really not, but for some reason I’m making it into one,” you confessed, your voice thick.

“Just tell me, Y/N,” Harry urged once more.  You sighed at his tone before reaching to your side to grasp the head wrap.  Following your movements with his eyes, Harry raised his eyebrows and cocked his head.

 “That’s what you’re so worried about?  A scarf?”  His tone was light but you could tell that he was genuinely confused.  You bit the inside of your cheek as you brought the scarf closer to the two of you.

“It’s not just a scarf, Harry.  It’s a head scarf.”

“Yea?”  His tone was still easygoing, not quite getting it.

“As in to sleep in,” you elaborated slowly.

He chuckled at you and you pinched in your brows, not finding it funny.

“I know what a head scarf is Y/N, I’m not stupid.  I just don’t understand why it’s such a big deal,” he said in his usual slow manner.

“It’s not meant to be worn the way you used to wear yours….” you trailed off, trying your best to explain it to him gently.  He studied your face before answering.

 “Y/N, I’m aware.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen Caroline wear one,” he said, referencing his wardrobe stylist who he was fond of.  You raised your eyebrows at his answer.

“Are you ashamed?  Because you have no reason to be, love.  You’re beautiful.”  Harry reassured you in a voice that brokered no argument.  You couldn’t help it as a flowering blush made its way to warm your cheeks.

“But my hair won’t be out and flowy against the pillow like in those romantic books and movies,” you bleated, knowing that you were talking nonsense but not able to censor yourself.  Harry fixed you with an incredulous look before shaking his head.

“You’re absolutely mental, love.  Plus if your hair was out it would get in my mouth when we sleep,” he scrunched up his face in disgust before tugging your body closer to his.  You rested your head on the warm skin of his chest and blew out a long breath not realizing how much you needed his reassurance.

Harry unclasped his hand from yours in order to bring it up to your other cheek.  He carefully tilted your head up so that you could meet his gaze.  It was soft and gentle just like him, but held a hard glint, hating that you were afraid to share all of yourself with him.

“I love you, Y/N.”  He enunciated every word, making sure that you fully understood him.  You gave him a timid smile as you felt your eyes begin to water.  You loved this man so much; you had no idea how you ended up being so blessed enough to have him hold you like this, and love you with all his being.

“I love you too, Harry,” you whispered, your voice thick with unshed tears.  He gave you a wide grin, one that showed his teeth before tilting downward to attach his lips to yours.

 It was slow and sweet, your lips moving in a sweet synchronization.  You loved it when he kissed you like this.  It felt like the world slowed to just you two, and as you raised yourself on your toes to deepen the kiss, you felt his hand wrap around to grip the back of your neck as he let out a growl deep in his throat.

The two of you fit perfectly together, and you smiled as you felt him move to leave small pecks across your jaw, feeling a shiver run down your spine.  He methodically kissed his way up to your ear and parted his lips to whisper to you.

 “I don’t want you to ever feel reluctant to share yourself with me, kitten.”  You nodded, breathless at his pet name for you.

He rubbed his thumb against the nape of your neck, looking down at you lovingly.

“Now, wrap your hair so we can cuddle,” he pouted, his eyes filled with mischief once more.  You rolled your eyes at him with an amused grin before picking up the scarf from the floor, not even realizing you had dropped it when Harry had kissed you.

You stepped out of his embrace but he situated himself behind you and placed a kiss on the back of your neck, causing you to let out a small shiver that made him smirk.  You merely rolled your eyes once more after catching your breath.

You reached on the dresser to grab your brush and began to brush your hair to the side and around your head, all the while aware of Harry’s curious eyes on you.

“Is this what makes your hair so soft?”  He questioned as you reached for some bobby pins to keep your hair in place.

You let out a breathy laugh, feeling light again.  “Yea, it keeps my hair nice and laid,” you explained, meeting Harry’s gaze through the mirror.  You watched as he became thoughtful and you knew he was about to ask a question.

“Can you wrap my hair,” he asked so innocently that you froze in your movements, your eyebrows shooting sky high.

You set down your scarf, and fixed him with a surprised look.

 “You want me to wrap your hair?”  You asked him, your voice high, not expecting him to ask you that.

He shrugged at you and placed his hands in the pockets of his grey sweats.  “Yea, if that’s okay.  I want it to be soft like yours,” he mumbled excitedly.

“Sure,” you blinked.  “Let me just finish up mine.”

 “Okay!”  His smile was so huge that you giggled and shook your head at him.  It was moments like these that reminded you why you adored this man so much.

After tying the scarf around your head you pulled out a baby blue scarf from your drawer for Harry.  His eyes lit up once you turned around and wiggled it in front of his face.

“Go sit on the bed,” you ordered; he was so much taller than you that there was no way you would be able to do it while he was standing up.

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted you before walking over to your bed, an excited bounce in his step.  You followed him, your brush and scarf in one hand and a couple bobby pins in the other.  You approached your boyfriend and ran your fingers through the long locks of his brown hair.

 “I’m so excited,” he murmured to you just as you brought the brush through his hair, making the tangles smooth out to thick, bouncy, waves. You laughed at him, a happiness that you only accustomed with him, coming to the surface.

 “Okay, Haz.  Stay still,” you told him as you began to sweep his hair to the side with your brush. It took you a couple of tries to get all of his hair around his head, as his hair was so much more lenient and straight. However, you were able to stick bobby pins in his hair that kept it in place.  With loving movements you wrapped the head scarf around his head and repeatedly asked him if it was too tight or loose before getting it just right.

You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he turned towards you and you were able to take him in.  He was honestly so cute, the silk encompassing his forehead and hiding the hair that you had gotten used to seeing.

He fixed you with a genuine smile, his eyes roaming over your form.  You knew you looked a sight, in Harry’s boxers and one of his undershirts, your hair done up under a scarf.  But with his eyes twinkling as he looked at you, you never felt so beautiful.

“Let’s take a picture, yea?”  You scrunched up your face at his question.

“I promise only I’ll see it,” he pleaded with you, his green eyes hopeful.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh and a small smile.

 With excited hands he reached for his phone charging next to yours on your nightstand.  He quickly fiddled with it before reaching for your wrist and pulling you onto the bed and close to him.  You fell into his side and laughed as he extended his arm in front of the both of you with the phone in his hand.

“Smiiile,” he laughed poking your side and causing you to laugh, your eyes crinkling just as he took the photo.

“One more,” he ordered.  This time he leaned over to you to place a kiss on your cheek as you stuck out your tongue, the flash of the picture creating small spots in your vision.

You cuddled into his side as he brought his phone close to the two of you, clicking on the picture he just took.

You busted out laughing when you saw how ridiculous the two of you looked.

“Hey,” Harry pouted.  “We look glamourous,” he chuckled as you studied the picture, loving how happy and glowing the two of you looked.

“Let me see the other one,” you demanded softly, watching as Harry’s slender finger swiped the screen of his phone.  The picture practically made you melt.

The both of you looked so radiant and content that you couldn’t help but let out a pleasurable sigh.  Usually you would hate the crinkles by your eyes, but this picture was different.  Harry looked ecstatic, you hadn’t realized but he had tilted his head to smile at you, and with you smiling at the camera, you decided that this was your favorite picture, head wraps and all.

 “This one is going as my wallpaper,” Harry laughed joyfully. You smiled in agreeance.

Harry leaned back over to the nightstand to plug his phone back in before wiggling out of his sweats and throwing them on a chair in the corner.  You smirked at his black Calvin Klein boxers that hung low on his hips, accentuating the tattoos on his abdomen.

He then splayed out on the bed and you moved to cuddle up in his side.  You breathed out a sigh of relief as you traced his butterfly tattoo with your finger, his stomach tightening at the feeling.

“I love you,” you whispered before kissing his shoulder.

You didn’t have to look up to know that he was smiling, his eyes most likely closed, reveling in the feeling of you two.

 “I love how we’re finally having a cuddle,” he joked, causing you to lightly slap at his chest.

You snuggled deeper into his side, wanting to be as close to him as possible, feeling his chuckles reverberate through his body.

It was one of those moments when your differences seemed to ebb away, leaving the both of you on equal footing.  Nothing could pry you apart, not insecurities, not hate, not differences.  Because at the end of the day you were just two people, blessed enough to be in each other’s lives and taking one day at a time.

You let out an elated breath, knowing deep down inside that this night represented so much more than a night spent together.  And as you reached up to kiss your boyfriend of five months, you’d never felt more at ease.

Burn Bright


  • DD au imagine where Party Poison hurts his shoulder p bad while doing something stupid so y/n has to look over him and she’s mainly annoyed at first but it eats emotional bc she’s always had a fear of him dying
  • Could you do more party poison fluff like the Love Sick fix you did earlier? It was incredible.
  • Literally all of your Party Poison imagines are FLAWLESS could I request more? Is fluffy party poison a thing? Because you can write ANYTHING omg 😄

A small gasp escaped my lips when my eyes met with his, almost falling backwards. A small part of me had given up the hope of ever seeing him again. Party has been M.I.A. for days, ever since the night he took off on foot to go on a search and rescue. We all tried to tell him it was a suicide mission… zero hope. We knew the captives would be dead or halfway back to Battery City by the time we got there; S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S didn’t play hostage games.

Once we finally figured we got it through his thick head, we went to bed reassured, just to wake up to his empty bed and a small scribbled note that simply read: “I’m sorry.”

It was unbearable. Every second of it. We searched everywhere until we eventually ran out of gas. After day two, we admitted defeat and stopped looking. No one ever grieved though, putting on a tough face and insisting our fearless leader would return without a scratch.

I didn’t sleep for days and could feel my sanity slipping. I cursed myself for not waiting for him that night. We also slept in the same bed, always. Even if he wasn’t tired, he would still lay with me while I slept and vice versa. I should have known something was up when he told me he wanted to sit outside for a little while longer, that he would be there in a minute.

I was just beginning to accept that he was dead, thinking about what to write in my letter to him for the Phoenix Witch.

But now here he was, covered head to toe in grime and mud with a makeshift sling tied tightly around his shoulder. I should have been overjoyed, engulfing him in a hug and kissing every inch of his skin. But all I wanted to do was slap the smug grin right off his face.

“Hey.” he said simply, holding his shoulder with his free hand.

Hey. That’s it?! That’s all I get?

“You stupid, selfish, egotistical asshole!” I yelled as I stormed towards him, the smile on his face vanishing. “You sneak out in the middle of night and disappear for days, and now all you say is hey?!”

Party was speechless, making a small babbling noise as he avoided my gaze. My hand itched to slap him, but I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t. Instead, I made a low choking noise and darted back inside.

“Do you want to see him?” Kobra asked hesitantly as he sat down on my bed, fumbling with his gloves.

“Not really.”


“Kobra, he didn’t listen to us and almost died. He can’t keep doing this to me, to us.”

“I know, I know. But you’re the only thing he wants right now. He won’t shut up about you. It’s been two days, I think he learned his lesson. Can you just go talk to him? Please? Jet hasn’t been out on patrol yet and we need someone to watch Party.”

“Alright.” I sighed, nodding my head. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.” he sighed in relief, standing up and adjusting his jacket. “You don’t have to sit in there with him, but just check up on him every now and then.”

I nodded, hating how empty the diner felt without him even though he was only two doors down.

I finally gave in ten minutes later, slowly walking into his room. He was laying down on his bed, doodling on the sling and bandages Jet covered him in.

“Hi.” I said quietly, his head snapping up at the sound of my voice. He stared at me for a minute, visibly gulping before slowly sitting up, grunting and clutching at his shoulder.  

“Hey,” he responded. “I’m sorry baby.”

The whine in his voice tore at my heart, tears brimming my eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my head into his neck as I let out my built up rage and sobbed into his cool skin.

“Why do you never listen? Why do you keep doing this?” I sobbed brokenly as he stroked my hair.

“I know baby, I know. I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot.” he whispered, peppering the top of my head with kisses. I clutched at his jacket, missing the feeling of the cold leather on my fingertips.

“What happened?”

“It was a bust. I got intercepted on the way there and…my shoulder’s pretty fucked. I wandered around the desert until some guys picked me up. They gave me water, tore up a shirt to hold my shoulder in place, and dropped me off here.” he explained carefully. I could tell he was purposely avoiding going over any details about his run in with B.L.I. but I didn’t mind. A part of me really didn’t want to know.

“I hate you.” I mumbled into the leather, my anger slowly dying out each time I breathed in his scent. I could never hate this redheaded idiot, I loved him way too much to ever hold on to this anger.

“I don’t deserve you.” Was all he responded with in a quiet whisper, his grip on my waist tight as ever.

“Promise me you won’t ever do something dumb like this again?”

“I promise, baby I swear it. I’m done being a hero.”

I smiled, leaning forward and finally feeling his lips brush against mine. I felt his lips curl up, pushing against my lips with equal force and eagerness. The kiss grew heated quickly, his tongue sliding past my lips and lapping eagerly at me. I accepted it, nipping at his bottom lip, knowing it drove him crazy. We both pulled away breathless, panting and staring intently into each other’s eyes.

“I love you, y’know that? I may suck at showing it sometimes but I love you more than anything on the goddamn planet.”

“I know, I love you too Party.”

He grinned, taking my hand into his and intertwining our fingers. “It was hard to sleep without you last night. I didn’t realize how much I need to hold you to feel at peace.” he confessed.

“Me neither, I didn’t sleep at all.” I was reminded of how many hours I’ve been up since he disappeared and suddenly felt tired, my lack of sleep catching up to me.

“Do you want to take a nap?” He offered. I nodded, yawning as he pulled me down with him. He rolled me onto my side, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into a spooning position. My eyes fought to stay open, wanting to take in every moment of this.

His fingers curled around my wrists, tracing the stick and poke tattoo on my wrist. It was a small heart with a bold “P” in the middle.

“I remember when you got this,” he chuckled. “I remember being so scared I would hurt you.”

“You almost passed out a few times.” I giggled, remembering his face when he first dipped the needle in ink and asked me for the fiftieth time that night.

“I was shittin’ bricks. I felt like an asshole when I pussied out of mine.”

“I never thought you were gonna go through with it. I know how much you hate needles.”

“Thanks,” he scoffed, “that makes me feel better.”

“But you let me draw one on instead.”

“Actually, it’s starting to fade. Can you redo it?”

I nodded, feeling his warmth leave me as he sat up to grab a pen. He handed it to me and held out his wrist. I had to redraw his “tattoo” all the time since no marker is truly permanent. But this time, it somehow felt more special.

I traced over the faded lines, coloring two smaller hearts on each side of the main one. He smiled at the finished result.

“One day I’ll get over my fear and actually get it tattooed.”

“We’ll see.” I simply said, curling back up into his chest. I sighed in content when I felt his arm wrap around me again, his lips leaving one last lingering kiss before I fell asleep.


Fandom: Naruto

Characters: Sai, Yamanaka Ino, Yamanaka Inojin

Pairings: Saiino

Words: 1,788

Notes: Inspired by all of madhattressdelux‘s headcanons and reblogs of Saiino which have destroyed me and my heart/soul. there is a fire of Saiino in my soul now that cannot be tamed and now there’s this. i’ve never written these two (three) before, so i hope it turned out alright and that it’s not horrendously awful. constructive criticisms always welcome :) also, thanks to matchaball for encouraging the idea and letting me borrow some of her beautiful words.

There was only one picture of herself that hung at her desk. A single sketch done on rough paper, in black pencil with just a splash of color for her eyes and hair, and though the edges were beginning to fray and the color starting to fade, Yamanaka Ino was certain she’d never seen a more beautiful piece.

To this day, Ino was still amazed at the level of detail achieved by her talented husband, from the small flowers in her hair to the patterns in the lace of her dress, he’d sketched them all but that wasn’t what Ino loved most about the drawing. It was the emotion in her face, in her blue eyes, so lifelike that somedays she was convinced picture-Ino’s face would burst into a bright smile, and it was the love that she could feel in every stroke of his pencil. For all that her husband hadn’t been able to express in words or actions, even on that day, he did through those lines, those careful strokes of his skilled hand, and Ino felt them as if they were her own. It was her favorite picture in the world.

Of course, the drawings of her son ran a very close second and Ino looked at the pictures every day, taking her few spare moments like this to admire how they showed his growth, and she couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to capture or display her son’s life, but there was just something about the drawing of her, the oddity among the drawings, that always caught her attention. Perhaps it was because she was still a little vain, even in her older age, or because it was just so beautifully done that one couldn’t help but be drawn to it, or maybe it was because she could remember the exact moment he drew it. That was likely it because that moment, the morning after their wedding, was high up on her list of ‘Best Days of my Life’, but sometimes Ino wondered what her husband had been thinking when he draw that picture. If the words he’d scrawled at the bottom were any clue, Ino’s mind could only begin to imagine.

What was on your mind that morning, Sai? she thought to herself, letting a smile stretch over her lips as she stared at the picture, her mind wondering back to that morning. What were you thinking?

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