#his hair and the scarrrr
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Bullet Train (2022)
#Bullet Train#brad pitt#joey king#hiroyuki sanada#filmedit#movieedit#bradpittedit#joeykingedit#bullettrainedit#my gifs#I AM PUMPED#look at hiroooo#his hair and the scarrrr
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i am 3k words into this one shot and then forgot about it for a week. huzzah:
As for me…" Grian held out his wrists together, as if awaiting handcuffs, "I am yours to do with, however you see fit."
"And, on an unrelated note," Grian openly eyed Scar over from top to bottom, "I need to know whoever did your suit, because they absolutely know what they are doing."
"Grian," Scar said, taking up the latter's hands to hold within his own, "Are you asking me to take you prisoner?"
"Well, it's either that," Grian pretended to think it over, "Orrr I out Etho as your mole to the resistance and let them have at him."
Scar's grip tightened. "I don't know what you mean."
Grian pulled one of his hands loose, tangling it into the side of Scar's hair, idly brushing the strands by his earring. "One of my scout saw him leaving the Town Hall in the dead of night. Now, I don't know what business Etho would have with you at one in the morning… but I doubt it's anything innocent."
"But," Grian tutted, before Scar could interrupt, "You have me in your clutches. I have no way of telling my side that truth from here, though I'm awfully tempted to try."
He dropped his voice to a mere whisper, "I think we both know who would win in a fight."
tl;dr mayor scar and mother spore need to hate fuck i think it would fix them actually
YEEES HATE FUCKING MOTHER SPORE AND MAYOR SCARRRR
YES JAY YES!!
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my prompt is tango sets the base on fire with his hair bc his hair can become fire...ya know...like in fanart. the public needs to see this
honestly??? that's so fucking funny what the hell. double life au where jimmy comes back to the ranch burning and is like "SCARRRR" except there's just tango standing there sheepishly with his flame hair like. jimmy 👉👈 i fucked up 🥺
#hoodienanami#ask#double life smp#dlsmp#rancher duo#team rancher#life smp tag#im not writing this bc my to-write list is legit 20 items long OTL#BUT this is a rlly cute and funny idea ngl
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The Babysitting Game
They say it takes a village to raise a child.
Well, Grian doesn't have a child but he does have an egg and a village. That’s basically the same thing, right?
Grian acquires an egg. His friends help him.
No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly fluff! Hermits: Grian, Mumbo, Pearl, and Scar. My first publish fanfic since 2016 and my first hermitcraft fanfic :D ao3 link and some inspirations to be linked in a reblog
Words: 2862
•·················•·················•
"What if I touched it really quick?" Scar asked.
"No, don’t-don’t touch the egg," Grian said seriously. "Look, I even made a sign! It specifically says ‘Do not touch.’" He gestured to the sign in question, but Scar ignored him.
"Can I rub it?" he said. The man leaned over it, studying the object carefully. Grian hadn’t known where to place the egg when he got it, and it was just sitting on an anvil for the time being. He didn’t even have a starter house yet, but clearly he was going to need something soon if he was going to protect the egg from some of the more . . . mischievous residents of their Boatem village.
“No, don’t touch the egg! Scar-” Grian walked closer, hands outstretched, just in time to see Scar reach out with his hand and pat the egg.
Vworp!
The egg disappeared into thin air.
Dragon eggs had a tendency to do that. It was a survival tactic--Grian didn't really know how it worked, but just as endermen could teleport away from danger, so could the egg if it were touched. Now whether or not Scar was dangerous remained up for debate…
Scar giggled. "Oh, where did you go?" he sang, hunting around the area.
Well, he COULD be pretty scary sometimes.
"Scarrrr," Grian whined, helping him look. "I told you not to touch it!"
"It's over here!" Scar shouted, finding the egg at the bottom of a small slope nearby. "Just one more time…." He reached out again.
"No!" Grian said, slapping his hand away. "Look, you've got to pick it up the right way." He demonstrated, carefully lifting the egg and placing it in a pouch slung over his back. He had hurriedly stitched it together not too long ago, worried that transporting the egg normally might break it. “If you do it roughly, you’ll scare it and it’ll teleport away again.”
"I see!" said Scar.
"Now, please, don't touch the egg.”
"Oh," Scar said. He straightened. "You're really serious about this."
Grian glared. "I am."
"I'm sorry, I just thought it was funny!"
Grian sighed. "It's okay, Scar. It's just--this thing is a baby, it needs to be handled gently! You can't just go around scaring it! What if it falls into a hole or something?" he hissed.
"Oh my god," Scar laughed, "you're its mother now!"
"No, no, I'm not!"
"You are!" Scar cried. He suddenly stopped. "Oh no, didn't you kill its mother?"
"Well it doesn't know that!" Grian snapped. "Truthfully I didn't realize there would be an egg! And I couldn't just leave it, you know! Here, look at this." Grian gently withdrew the egg from its pack, and Scar moved closer. He held it up to the sun. "Look at that."
The sun shined dark red through the deep purple shell of the egg, making it glow within. In the middle, the silhouette of a curled up creature was illuminated. Blood vessels radiated outward, and at the bottom there was a blank space that Grian assumed was air. The egg’s shell was too thick for any detail to be made out, but the processes happening within were clear. Grian was enchanted with it.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
"Wow," Scar breathed. "There's actually a dragon in there! What're you gonna do with it after it hatches?"
"Well, I haven't exactly thought that far--I just want to worry about keeping it safe first. I mean, what do you even do with this thing?" Grian put the egg back in its satchel, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I suppose you keep it warm and safe but, like, I don't know what else-"
"I could help!" Scar said.
"You were just playing with it!"
"Hey," Scar said defensively, "that was before I knew more about it!"
Grian rolled his eyes.
“What are you guys doing over here?” said Mumbo, wandering over. Grian just knew he’d been up to something, and sure enough, there was a new tree next to his little collection of chests. Grian wasn’t very bothered by it, because he already had a plan to get Mumbo back for it.
“Grian is just showing me his new baby!” Scar teased. “He’s a mom now.”
“I am NOT its mother,” replied Grian tiredly, but he smiled at the sight of the other man.
“A baby?” Mumbo asked, choosing to ignore the rest of Scar’s statement.
“A dragon egg,” Grian answered. “I found it in the End.” He paused for a moment, feeling almost bad. “After I killed the dragon.”
“Grian! You’ve orphaned it!” Mumbo sounded scandalized.
“Why do you all keep bringing that up!?” he defended, glancing between Mumbo and Scar, who both gave him disapproving, albeit playful, looks. “I know you’re Mr. Peace, Love and Plants this time, but we’ve always killed the dragon in every new world!”
“Well, I guess that’s true, but it is a little sad isn’t it? You’re taking care of it but only because you killed its mum.”
“Yeah,” was all Grian said. The dragon always needed to be taken care of in each new world they visited, and while it was always a bit of a shame, he’d never really contemplated it that much. After all, he normally wasn’t the one who fought it--that last time in Evo aside. He didn’t really know what he had gotten into but he felt deeply like he needed to protect this egg. It was like a tug in his chest, drawing him into the egg and telling him not to let go.
“Show him the egg!” Scar said.
“You just want to see it again,” Grian replied, but pulled the egg out of the satchel again anyway for Mumbo to see. The surface of the egg wasn’t smooth, like a chicken’s egg, but bumpy. The purple spots almost seemed to glow, and occasionally little violet particles drifted off of it. Grian felt like he could stare at it in awe all day, and apparently his friends felt the same.
“How’re you going to keep it warm?” asked Mumbo after a moment of admiring it. “That satchel isn’t going to be enough, and to be frank, I don’t see you spending any time sitting on it, even if the mental image is pretty funny.”
Grian rolled his eyes at the comment, but thought about it. How would he incubate it? He may have had wings, but he didn’t know anything about eggs, other than that it was a safe bet to assume it needed to be kept warm. “I'm not sure, actually.”
“Hey, let me design something for you!” Mumbo said excitedly. “I could probably use some redstone and make an incubator of some sort for you.”
Grian smiled. “I’d really appreciate that.”
Asking Mumbo to create a contraption for him--what could go wrong?
•·················•·················•
“I’m not wearing this thing, you know.” Grian said, holding the contraption while Mumbo wheezed with laughter in the background. The design that Mumbo had come up with was essentially a backpack with heating elements strung through it, except for one thing . . .
“You-you wear it in the front,” Mumbo choked out, wiping a tear from his eyes.
“Yes, I see that,” Grian replied, unamused.
“Like a swaddle!”
“Yes, I see that.”
Mumbo laughed harder. Grian had to begrudgingly admit that it was well designed, however. It would fit the egg perfectly, keep it warm, and most important it was mobile to ensure that he could take the egg with him. It was thoughtful, especially since Mumbo knew Grian was quite protective of it.
“I’m not wearing this thing,” Grian repeated. “I’m not going to let you all laugh at me while I walk around the server with an egg swaddled to me!”
“I thought you’d say that,” Mumbo chuckled. “Here, you can switch the straps around and turn it into a backpack.” He unclipped the straps and moved them into the new configuration.
“Thank you, Mumbo,” he said gratefully. “This will certainly do the trick.”
“Glad to hear it mate,” Mumbo replied. “Now, while you’re here, may I ask why there is an incredibly tall tree on top of my camper?”
“Sorry, got to go!” blurted Grian, snatching the backpack from Mumbo’s arms and flying off in a burst of feathers.
“That’s unfair, I don’t even have an elytra yet to go chase him down with,” muttered the man as he watched Grian disappear.
•·················•·················•
Grian sat in the grass in front of his starter home and rubbed his eyes wearily. He was exhausted. Is this how all parents feel? he wondered. Was he just uniquely unqualified to be one? After all, this was only an egg! It hadn’t even hatched yet and he was already tired of keeping up with it.
Carrying it in the backpack was heavy, and Grian tired out quickly. It was hot on his back, and Grian found himself having to take breaks to avoid overheating. It was also cumbersome, and he found it difficult to build with as it shifted his weight. He almost fell off the roof once while building it! Of course, having wings meant that Grian could catch himself easily, but it had still given him quite the scare. Dragon eggs were pretty sturdy, and would teleport themselves out of danger if possible, but he was still so paranoid about breaking it. And now there was the Boatem Hole to worry about--what if it teleported itself into the void? These things kept Grian awake at night.
But if he left it...well, just like Grian had a tendency to lose items in his chest monsters, he also had a tendency to forget where he placed things. He had been forced to go back and rescue the egg from some place he’d left it more than once, which he wasn’t exactly proud of. What sort of parent forgot their child?
. . . He was definitely not admitting to being its parent.
Oh God, what did I get myself into?
“Hey Grian, what’re you up to?” came a voice, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up and saw Pearl standing over him. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her hands were in her hoodie pockets. She took a seat on the ground next to him, and followed his gaze overlooking the Boatem village. “What’s on your mind?”
“This--this egg,” said Grian. It sat next to him in its backpack, still radiating heat. “I don’t know what to do with it. I’m just so tired of carrying it around!”
“I have to admit,” Pearl said, “I didn’t expect you to immediately adopt a baby dragon the very next time I saw you.”
“Yeah, well, it was an accident.” Grian groaned. “I don’t know what to do with it now, let alone when it hatches!”
Pearl thought for a moment. “You know, the rest of us are all here for you. The other hermits would be happy to help out, I’m sure.”
The other hermits . . . well of course they would. If it was one thing they were all good at, it was supporting each other. Scar had already taken a particular interest in the egg, although Grian was still a little suspicious of him scaring it again. Mumbo had specially designed an incubator for it. Pearl was visiting him to check up on him and offer help.
All Grian had to do was convince himself to let it go. To let them help.
“I know that but . . .”
“But what? Have you had any reason to believe they wouldn’t?” Pearl asked.
“Well, no.” He thought for a while. He thought of how his friends would lend materials when needed, or how they’d help replace someone’s armor and items if they were lost. He thought about the days where they all teamed up and chose one hermit to help out, and he thought about all the things they did for the good of the entire community without even being asked.
His desire to protect the egg was strong, and putting it into the hands of another person almost felt like simultaneously a betrayal of the egg itself and the biggest leap of faith he could take. But the hermits were good at leaps of faith, because someone was always there to catch you.
“You think it’d be okay?”
“I know it’ll be okay,” Pearl replied. “I haven’t been here very long but from what I’ve seen, I know they’d all help. They wouldn’t hurt it. They might be a little mischievous sometimes,” she said, glancing at Scar’s house, “but they know how important it is and would be happy to help. They helped you before, didn’t they?”
Pearl was right, of course. Nobody on the server had any desire to hurt the egg. He trusted that. If there was anyone that he could trust, it was them.
But how would he get them all to essentially sign up for babysitting?
An idea struck him, and Grian scrambled to his feet. “Pearl, you’re brilliant. Thank you!”
She blinked, a little startled. “Always happy to help.”
•·················•·················•
Grian stood back, admiring his work. A near perfect duplicate of the egg that was currently sitting in the backpack slung around his shoulder, but at a much larger scale. It was built out of obsidian blocks and crying obsidian for the spots, and if Grian was pretty proud of how it looked.
If Grian knew anything, it was that his friends loved minigames. And Grian was not above gently exploiting that fact to get a little help--just like barge game from the last world, where he managed to get his friends to help mine out the stone from next to his mansion. Just slap the title of “game” on something and you could get a hermit to sign up for anything.
“Now . . . I just have to write the signs on the inside.”
The game Grian had come up with was officially called Tegg--he needed to stay on brand with his tag games in every world--but he’d mentally been calling it “The Babysitting Game” for a while now. Because that’s what it really was--each hermit who signed up would also sign up to watch the egg and keep it safe. He set to work outlining the rules.
RULE ONE: Protect the egg and keep it safe.
RULE TWO: Keep the egg incubated or it’ll die.
RULE THREE: Keep a close eye on the egg.
RULE FOUR: Call Grian if it starts to hatch.
Satisfied, he wrote out the rest of the instructions. Because it was a game, he wanted to make it fun for the hermits too, so he’d decided to make it like a scavenger hunt. People were allowed to take the egg, provided they adhered to the rules, and were encouraged to hide it and keep it safe. Otherwise, someone else who wanted to have it could get it. The safer the egg was, the less likely for someone else to find it. The winner was whoever had the egg the longest when it finally hatched. Grian didn’t know how long that would take, but he didn’t want to miss it either, hence rule four.
Yep, totally outsourcing his babysitting onto his friends.
Grian squinted at his wall of signs, before placing one final sign at the bottom: Grian will track the game and has final say on points and rules!
“That should do it,” he mumbled. He still wanted to keep an eye on the egg, to make sure that he knew who had it and how many people’s hands it had gone through. After all, he was the one ultimately responsible for it.
Grian pulled the egg out of the backpack and carefully placed it on the ground. He’d somehow made a habit of just speaking to it every now and then--he had no idea if the little dragon could hear anything in there, but he liked to think that it could. “Hey there,” he whispered, and stroked the top of the egg. “Some new people are going to start taking you pretty soon, but it’s okay. They’re going to give me some help and make sure you’re safe.”
He paused, taking in the little room he’d made and the wall of signs he’d written with meticulous instructions for the egg’s care. It may have been the first thing he’d built for this egg, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be his last. A baby dragon was a commitment and for the first time Grian really let himself think about what that meant, beyond just an egg that he had to carry around. Would he house it? Train it? Let it stay by his side? Would he love it?
I think I already do, he thought.
He thought of the hermits--their mischievousness, their pranks, their hard work, their friendship, and their goodness at heart. They were his family, now. What was one more addition?
“It’s okay,” he whispered to the egg. “I trust them all with my life, but more importantly, I trust them with yours.”
#hermitcraft#hermitblr#grian#mumbo jumbo#goodtimeswithscar#pearlescentmoon#hermitcraft fanfic#quara fanfic
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I'm just gonna get straight to the point which is Matt and reader's headcanons.
______________________________________________
-Reader is actually a big metal fan (this caused matt to worry cuz he is a catholic.... he thought she was a Satanist lol)
- reader explained to matt what she looks like even made a drawing of herself and let him run his fingers over it to get a good idea of what she looked like. Even let him put his hands on her face to figure out its structure.
- when matt and reader hug some times his cross neckless and her dog tags get tangled. so when they pull away the necklaces tug at each other so they have to sit and detangle it (this process can take up to 5 minutes but they don't mind..)
-often times reader would wrap her legs around matts waist and her hands around his neck Matt would then walk around the house and just do normal stuff while he wears reader like a backpack.
-Matt will take any chance to cuddle reader even if its just leaning against her while he is reading files or laying on top of her while they are sleeping.
Btw the POC reader x matt is coming up soon as requested I didn't forget
THIS
IS
SO SOFT AND I LOVE IT?? ?
LOOK AT THE HAIR PET, THE CONTENT EXPRESSIONS, THE SCARRRRS ALL TOGETHER, this is GORGEOUS.
I cannot understate how much this happens. These are two touch starved babies, and they absolutely seek out that comfort with each other nightly, even if it's just curling up together for a bit before going to sleep. They spend most of the night touching in some fashion, even if it's just hands or legs just kinda nudged together. In short: They LOVE touching and cuddling up, even if nothing spicy happens. And you captured it which I love.
AS I LOVE THE HEADCANONS. The idea of her drawing it out so he could feel it? THEIR NECKLACES TANGLING AND JUST CURLED UP CLOSE WHILE THEY UNTANGLE. Matt being buff enough happily carry Reader backpack is a-fucking-dorable thank you. MY HEART? 😭
And i see the Matt Murdock x POC!Reader art in the askbox! I'll post that one up next! 🥰 Thank you SO SO much for doing that! I know it'll be appreciated. Everyone deserves to be with Matt. 🥰
#art rec#matt murdock x reader#daredevil x reader#daredevil#matt murdock#siiiighhh#my heart#your art always hits just right <3 <3 <3#ALSO LOVING THE HEADCANONS OKKKKK
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Little Red Riding Hood - Pt. 2
“I…I don’t need you to carry me. I can walk in myself. Just get me my carry-on please.” I forcefully snapped myself out of the stare, turned away and started looking through my purse for my phone. My face was still hot from looking at him and I couldn’t concentrate. I had about a million things in my purse and kept pulling out the same things - all of which were not my phone. I could hear my carry-on rolling across the pavement as Mister J wheeled it over.
I had the tote bag on my lap and felt the phone buzz as I made eye contact with him again. “Scarrrr…leeTT…do you need some help with that?” J’s words dripped out in a low purr. “It’s Red, Mister J…” I quivered and proceeded to drop all of the contents of my purse onto the pavement. “Fuck!” I scrambled to the ground to pick up all the things that had poured out. “Mister J, can you get the shoes, please?”
He crouched down to pick them up and put them and a couple of other items in my bag. I threw in my Dior compact and a bunch of other little items into the tote too. “Did you see my phone?” I looked up at him as I stood. “I have it, Red. You seem to have a couple of texts from Nikolai. Boyfriend?”
Is he still hitting on me? Why am I hoping that he is still hitting on me? Red, WTF!
“No Mister J….he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a supplier. He made the shoes for the Falcone drop. Didn’t he fill you in?” J smirked. “Let’s just say we’re on a need to know basis, doll.” I nodded as I unzipped the carry-on and put on some black, ankle strap pumps. “He sent you a couple of texts, Red – do you want me to reply back while you put those on?” He held the phone out to me for me to unlock it for him. I looked up and stopped fastening the ankle strap.
This guy is fucking ballsy.
“Listen, I barely know you. What makes you think I’m going to just unlock my phone for you? What – you want to put your phone number in my contacts or something?” I was glaring at him now.
“Do you want me to put my phone number in your contacts?” He was still grinning as he was holding the phone in front of me. I wasn’t used to this feeling. The feeling of being out of control. I was barking out all the orders and I still felt like a little girl around him. I snatched the phone out of his hand and powered it off. “Here, put this in my bag. Nikolai can wait until I’m good and ready to text him back.” I was hoping that my snarky response would make me feel better but it didn’t. I still felt like a little school girl in the principal’s office.
J held out the crook of his arm for me and I reluctantly slid my own arm in. His bicep was firm. I could feel the heat rising up again and my heart pounding as we walked up the ramp to the hotel. It was a lovely night and the hotel was getting ready for the holiday season. The trees lining the walkway were covered in white Christmas lights. The doorman grabbed my bag and we walked to the check in desk.
The East End Regal, was a truly luxurious, five star hotel. It was the epitome of luxury in Gotham and boasted a bevy of premier shops. It was a playground for world-class shopping and also hosted a myriad of other amenities for its discerning guests. I couldn’t help but giggle with excitement as we got into the elevator. I hit the button for the 23rd floor.
“What’s that little giggle about, sweetheart?” J was intrigued. “Nothing Mister J…this place is gorgeous. You did a good job.” I was grinning from ear to ear thinking of all the ways I was going to spend the money I had just earned to pay the loan shark back. J snarled and pushed himself up close to me. “Nnnnmmm...I can tell you meant that Red. We’re gonna have so much fun together.”
His breathing and the sound of the tropical trance music being piped into the elevator were the only sounds I could hear. His lips were parted a little as I watched his chest heave up and down. I caught another glimpse of his metal teeth. All I could think about was that I wanted to rip his shirt off and start kissing him. I leaned into him, feeling how small I was against his frame and closed my eyes. My brain told me that a steamy kiss was coming. I waited patiently but when nothing happened I grabbed him by his slicked back green hair and pulled him by the collar.
His right hand was up against the wall and his left was wrapped around my waist when the sound of the elevator chimed and the doors opened. A group of business men in suits were about to get in but J growled loudly and put his hand on his gun holster. They decided to wait for the next one. I decided to take the opportunity to take control of the situation.
Stop acting like a slut Red. You just fucking met this guy. Since when do you wait more than 3 seconds for a man to try to kiss you?
I ducked underneath him and backed myself into the other side of the elevator and stared at the numbers as they passed each floor. I practically ran out of the elevator when it stopped at 23.
“You know I’m pretty hungry, I think I’m just going to head up and order some room service. Have a great night.” I tried three times to scan the key card for my room but it wasn’t working. “Here, let me try.” J tried once and the door opened up immediately.
Yup, looks like a lot of things open up for you without you even trying Mister J.
“I could eat too Red. I’m pretty hungry. I made reservations for us at LaBrezza. I’d love it if you would join me for a meal. What do you say?” I stood there with my mouth open. “You got reservations at LaBrezza. For tonight. Are you serious? They have a wait list of about a year to get a reservation, how did you do it?” J put his hand over his mouth and chuckled and I got a good glimpse of the laughing mouth tattoo on his hand.
“I guess I’m just a lucky guy. Go freshen up. Take a nice hot shower. Then slip into something…pretty. See you in an hour, doll.” J walked away backwards with his arms extended laughing hysterically. I closed the door, plopped onto the bed, waited a minute and squealed while kicking my feet into the mattress. I just knew this was going to be a fantastic night.
Unbeknownst to me, my phone which was now dead and stuffed into the bottom of my purse was unable to get an incoming text message sent from Nikolai. It was the last I would ever receive from his phone. It was a picture of Nik and Jackie with their throats slit like Pez dispensers. The caption read “where’s the fucking H Red?”
#joker#leto joker#the joker#joker fanfiction#little red riding hood#mysterious#imposter#stockings#drugs mention#wolf in sheep's clothing#joker x scarlett#refreshed version
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Day 13: M - Muscles.- Conor and Ruth
[Link to the challenge here.]
[The otp+ show off their muscles, or lack their of, flexing for their partner(s).]
Ruth sighs as she walks through the construction site. She’s not technically supposed to be here. But, she was meeting Conor for lunch and she really wanted to see the project that he and his crew were working on. Plus, all her tutoring sessions had ended early.
She spots him quite easily. Conor’s shirtless, as it’s an extremely rare boiling day. The scars on his back are raised, and a light pink. They’ve faded over the years and are no longer the bright red that had been when they started dating. His back muscles are very impressive. They ripple as he pounds something with the hammer. She knows that he’s unusual for a wizard and for an architect.
Ruth’s eyes rake over his back. His bare back is something that she rarely sees. She swallows as he turns around. Conor sweeps a hand across his forehead, brushing away the short brown strands of hair that have stuck there. He’s sweaty and his glasses are off. She watches him reach into the back pocket of his jeans and pull out the protective case they’re in. He gently puts them on. His blue eyes meet hers and she grins.
“Hey, love,” she calls out.
“Ruth?” Conor asks, his voice filled with confusion.
“Yeah. My sessions finished early. So, I thought I’d come for lunch early.”
“Oh. Can you toss me that towel?”
Ruth follows the direction of his finger and picks up the navy towel. She tosses it to him. Conor takes the towel and rubs it over his face. He also drags it across his torso. He's got the beginnings of a six-pack, along with scars that are also raised and a light pink. Ruth swallows.
Conor smirks. “L-l-like what you s-see?” he asks.
“Well, yeah. When the hell did you get so muscled?” she asks.
“Running, boxing, and just general hard labor.”
“Well, you certainly look good.”
“Really? Even with the s-scarrrrs?”
“Conor, your scars weren’t what I noticed first.”
“What was it?”
“Your muscles. They’re very impressive.”
Conor smirks again and flexes his arm. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He grins widely at her and steps closer. “Toss me my shirt?”
Ruth sighs but quickly locates the gray t-shirt. She wraps her fingers around the soft material (seriously how is it that men’s t-shirts are so damn soft?) and tosses it to him. Conor smiles and pulls the shirt over his head. Ruth makes a little noise as the shirt covers her husband’s bare skin and impressive muscles. He steps closer to her and presses his lips to hers. She can taste the salt from sweat and her nostrils are filled with the smell of sweat and sunscreen. Underneath that, though, she can make out the distinctive scent of him, that sharp, clean smell that’s distinctly masculine.
#hphm#hogwarts mystery#conor o'donnell#ruth callaghan#conor x ruth#runor: mo grá#mc x oc#30 day otp challenge#conor and ruth are both dorks#conor's wand is hidden under his jeans#he works for both the muggle world and the wizarding world#that's what his architecture firm does#it's fairly short
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/NAWstēya garahɕː'əNkō/
curejune
Sketch Dump of Everything
thecaffeinatedmommak
Endeavors of the Caffeinated Momma