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#queue tag: probably sleeping
wisteriaphyte · 2 years
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FFXIV GRAPHIC CHALLENGE ➥ Locations 1 / 7 - Black Shroud
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hzdtrees · 1 year
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Brackish water
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goldkirk · 9 months
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March 13, 2018
TW: PTSD episodes, traumatic memories, dissociation, death, murder, natural disasters etc etc frankly there’s just a lot. This whole thing was a vent I think I wrote while avoiding sleep. You don’t need to read this, I’m just posting it here as more evidence in my collection of how the past used to be for me. I’m okay about this now, and I’m just posting it for reference. Please don’t read this if it might be triggering for you. It’s very first-person and fast-paced.
Poem:
I launch awake in sweat, I am
sweat, my sheets are sweat, my blankets are sweat, I am soaked head to toe with hot sweat and my blankets are chaining me and I do not know
who I am and all I know is confusion and fear and I have vaulted out of the bed and onto my face before I even know that I am awake.
I have no idea who I am or where I am, it's dark,
and I don't know what is happening, I stumble into my wall
and I am hot.
I am suddenly up the basement stairs and tripping over the living room couch on my way to nowhere, I don't know where I am, I don't know who I am. All I know is I'm somehow awake, I am moving, and I feel like the world has ended and everything has crashed down around me in ruin and I feel
like I am not alive.
My mind is trying to piece together what I am, what has happened, what time is it where am I, I'm at home, oh,
there's my mom, there's my dad.
I don't remember anything I don't know what happened why does this all feel so wrong?
I think I died
while in my dream.
That is
the only explanation I can find for how I feel, to wake up like this,
I feel
like I did not exist. I had blinked out. There was terror and I
did not even know my own name for the first minute after waking up,
I didn't realize I was alive for seven awful seconds and
it must be hours after I went to bed right, oh lord God please what is happening to me it's
1:27 in the morning.
this hasn't happened since Junior year of high school when I
was a camp counselor,
when I was in a sleeping bag at night in
someone else's living room with all my peers and
was woken up for the night vigil shift I'd signed up for and didn't know my name.
I didn't know I existed I didn't know I wasn't floating in a void
suddenly things were real and I was trying to catch up with whatever the hell just happened and somehow
I'm expected to form coherent sentences to
reassure the 16 year old next to me that
no I'm fine. I don't need an ambulance, I just
maybe need my soul to come back to my body?
Can you tell me please, who am I.
I launch awake from a dream
I can't remember, but in it I die.
It's not as terrifying as my lucid dreams of
that one genocide that lasts
the whole night. or that
time where I watch my nephews and nieces get
shot one by one and I can't help,
And I watch my family die and
I can't stop the train crash or
the volcano or the pain
and I watch everyone I cannot save
die a thousand times this year but
at least when I wake up I know my own name.
Sometimes,
I die in my dreams, but it's not pretty,
its not poetic I don't know what I can say about it, it's just, I'm gone. I wake up
and don't remember I'm alive.
I don't know what my point is
in this poem. I mostly need to scream.
I just
forgot what it was like to die in my sleep, I guess,
and I wish I could remember, just
once, how it happened.
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twilightarcade · 8 months
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[gameshow host of sorts voice] anyways folks it looks like our time here is up, thanks for coming out tonight and we'll see you next time
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the-kipsabian · 6 days
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scrolling tumblr is so hard rn cause i see so much of the best friends stuff from the angle i dont want to (chuck should have picked trent. im just gonna say it) but i dont wanna unfollow anyone and blacklisting tags is so hard cause i wanna see chucks and ocs separately but not in this light together and also i dont know what people tag these with if anything and im just hngggggg
just makes me sad
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storm-of-feathers · 1 year
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I dare you to hit ctrl + v on this post
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thelastsirenssong · 2 years
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You ever get four hours of sleep and wake up to dawn filling the horizon, and at the first spilling of the rose gold ink of the morning sun onto the roof of every home do you ever wonder what that sun might look like staining the soft cheek of Hawks as he sits on a rooftop, sipping coffee and watching the sun rise? The warmth of the sun and his cup on a humid morning making him squirm, just a little- he'd abandoned his jacket at the beginning of the season, when the first of the cicadas started their singing, but in the long sleeves and gloves of his costume he's still muggy, and he snorts softly to himself, shielding a bit of the sun away from his eyes with a scarlet wing as he wonders if he'd be crowded more doing patrol without a shirt. But, try as he might, he can't imagine the crowds of people jeering at him- he can't imagine the girls cat calling, the elders scolding him to set a better example, the children gawking in surprise or the men who would roll their eyes. No, he truly can't.
All he really can imagine, staring out at the beauty of a waking world receiving the first ink of light from the heavens, is you.
Would you laugh at him, would you scorn him gently upon first seeing him at the agency, and wish him luck on his patrol, it is pretty hot out there being more than an admission, but an endorsement of his childish behavior? Would you watch his wave as he flew off with a humored incredulity, your eyes giving a soft, kind roll? It's a nice image, he does like it, but more of the sun rises, and the rose gold warms the plush cupid's bow of his lips, and he wonders with another small sip of his saccharine coffee if he'd catch you bashful, if the landing of your eyes on his bare chest would send you into a panic, the initial surprise melting from your face and warming the apples of your cheeks. Would you turn away and steal glances? Or would you continue to stare? Would you be bold enough to shrug with a subtle agreement if he made a comment, or would your embarrassment seep into the space between the two of you and widen it as you hurried off with some lie: that it's fine, that he can do what he wants and it doesn't matter, really, you're busy, and so is he, you'll hardly see him.
He doesn't know. And he never will, he supposes, as he makes to rise from the rooftop alongside the sun, he figures that he'll have all day to ruminate on the idea, but beyond that heroes don't have time to fuck around and find out, at least not heroes like him, at least not in that way. His rise into the sky is a slow one. The heat, the humidity of the day weighs on him like heavy dew, and his coffee is almost forgotten, until his phone rings, and he reaches into his pocket to answer.
"This is Hawks."
"Hey bird brain, did you already have coffee?" He can't remember the last time he had a glass of water, but he imagines your voice has the same cooling, refreshing effect. He resolves to himself, the next time he's in a conbini, to go for the spring water.
"Bird brain, that's colorful. I did though, yeah. Why, 'dyou make me some?" A scoff leaves you, with the explosiveness of a geyser.
"Very funny Hawks, I don't get paid to do that, I'm not your assistant."
"I could up your pay for that." You sputter on the other end of the phone. He imagines your flustered scowl, and he can't help the way he soars a little higher in the sky, heaviness of heat and dew forgotten.
"Just to make you coffee?"
"Well and maybe if you'd do my scheduling, so I'd have more free time." To spend with you, goes unsaid, it drifts out and paints itself together with the colors of morning, dashing a different color ink on storefronts and school roofs, some things better left to be seen.
"The commission does that, I thought?"
And with the storefronts and the schools and the abandoned buildings and defunct koban- save for the ones being repurposed for local heroes- Fukuoka looks beautiful, from his vantage point in the sky. If he really squints he can see the ruins of Fukuoka castle, something he's never seen up close, but knows it must be imposing. It must be, as something that once ruled over a city, a people, before a revolution. He flies a little higher, and it gets smaller.
"Yeah I was thinking maybe we could change that. Starting with the coffee." You hum over the phone line and he has to remember that he's supposed to be doing his job, not trying to catch clouds. Crime, with the number two hero stationed in the city and being aligned with the league of villains is rare these days, but keeping his guard up and keeping his mouth shut is what keeps it that way.
"Well sadly I didn't make anything for you. Just... got a wrong order, but they let me keep it. It's... some kind of frap? I thought you might like it, but. If you've had some already I guess I'll try someone else." You were his first call. That truth too goes unspoken, and you both allow it, because the dawn has broken, and it is now day, and there is work to be done.
"But that doesn't sound like a bad idea, Hawks. Maybe I'll take you up on it some other day."
"Mm. Some other day," he repeats with a sickly smile, and you make a sound, bubbling brook, reproachful river. "I mean it depends on how much you pay me."
"Would be an offer you couldn't refuse," he guarantees with a seriousness, and when you hum again, the sound doubtful, and playful, he tastes one, he thinks. He really is high enough to taste the gathered drops of water that cling to the heavens.
Maybe, he muses, maybe after patrol, when he has time, he'll corner you, with the clouds in his lungs, and maybe you'll see them, somewhere in his bare chest.
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i-was-mislead · 1 year
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yes I read My Rosebud Boy first, but I can't be the only one who finished it and then went "WHERE'S THE KUDOS BUTTON"
here are your kudos @rainbowrowell but I need more. (Oh wait, I still have all of Scattered Showers, lol.) (It's barely midnight so I should start it now, right?)
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sleepingcatemojis · 2 years
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queue currently only has one thing in it so i’m gonna try to fill it up some more before i go to the pool
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hawkinslibrary · 2 years
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i feel like i have so much to do tomorrow before the last two eps drop and it’s literally all self-imposed
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beeseverywhen · 8 months
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I really want to clear out my drafts so at some point in the near future I'm gonna be posting constantly so sorry in advance for that
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wisteriaphyte · 1 year
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FFXIV GRAPHIC CHALLENGE ➥ Songs 1 / 6 - "Against the Wind" | Listen
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Ok, that last post that came out of my queue was the last one I put in there a few nights ago and I'm going away for the weekend leaving tomorrow, so I thought I'd fill it up again but I got one post tagged and queued and I'm already exhausted, so no queue this weekend cause i just don't have the energy 😭😭
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Day 5
Pairing: Ren Hana x reader
Prompt: Meloncholy
Description: How did you get caught in such a surreal situation? You can't help but feel terrible, so much so that you end up crying. But, your new best friend Ren is here to help!
Rating: sfw
Content Warning: Past kidnapping, imprisonment, non con touching (nonsexual), mentions of hurting reader, collars, ask to tag
Word Count: 872
Notes: Ren is my FAV from bytd I would actually let his do anything to me. Even if I am like, way taller than him. He can be my short king any day sdfjldfkj have I mentioned all these have been written in a row? Thank u queue its 10:30 rn After I get "caught up" these might be longer but I aint forcing nothing
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You couldn’t help but settle heavy in the bed given to you, dread and fear weighing you down to the nice duvet under you. You can’t help but curl your fingers into it as you stare out the window, to the winter storm raging outside. You reach up to touch the collar around your neck your body shivers at the memory of electricity running though you.
How did you get into this mess? All you had wanted was a night out but… Ren and that other man… the drinks… being chased and… Ending up here.
You had really wanted to believe he helped you. He was nothing but sweet and polite, so you wanted to return that generosity but… the anklet. The collar you still wore. That he tested on you. This could only end badly for you, couldn’t it? But you had to be brave in the face of this, this…
You feel your eyes tear up. You really don’t want to cry, not now. He was some sort of fox; he would probably hear you sobbing from where ever he went off too but… you can’t help it, your stresses piling up until your fit to burst, leaving you in the little tears that stream down your face. It isn’t long before you’re downright bawling, shoving your face into the too nice pillow in a feeble attempt to muffle your voice.
Obviously, it doesn’t work and it isn’t long before you hear the undeniable sound of feet bounding down the stairs. You attempt to collect yourself in vain, but Ren is upon you before you’re even done rubbing your tired eyes.
“_____? Is everything okay?” His voice is so soft, so very sweet. As if he’s not the cause of all your problems.
“I-I’m sorry…!” You blubber out, scared he might do something else to hurt you. “I-I just…” It isn’t long before you burst into another fit of tears.
“H-hey it’s okay!” You jump as you feel his arms slither around your waist. Ren doesn’t let you go, though, merely pulls you closer into his embrace. “I know you’re probably a little confused… but I’ll take care of you, I promise!” He coos. “You don’t have anything to worry about, okay?” His words provide little comfort to you but you try to convince yourself to calm down regardless, taking slow deep breathes to even your breathing and hopefully stop sobbing.
“There you go, easy…” He hums as you take another shuddering breath. “What’s got you all sad for buddy?” he asks softly, laughing gently. You consider your words carefully.
“I-I’m just… not used to this place, is all.” You mumble softly. It wasn’t a complete lie, but you weren’t sure if it was enough to convince him. “I um, still sleep with a lot of stuffed animals and plushies so… I guess I just got a little lonely here by myself.” You admit softly.
“Oh, is that it?” Ren laughs softly. “If it would make you feel better… I could stay with you?” Your eyes widen at his proposition. Was that an offer you could even say no to? “I’ll even bring down one of my favorite plushies for you, hold on!” Before you can even think to argue, he’s racing off again, up the stairs. It’s silent a moment before you can hear him charging back down, pushing right into your door.
Triumphantly, he hold up something round. In the dark of your room it’s hard to make out but… “Is that a pusheen plush?” You ask softly.
“It is!” He grins, climbing back on the bed and handing it to you. It was covered in… orange fur, you noted, but it was impossible to mistake. You had this same plush back home… It was one of your favorites to cuddle to sleep. “She’s one of my favorites, but I think you need her more than I do.” He gives you a grin, his features softening as he looks at you.
“That’s really sweet of you…” You can’t help but mumble, holding her closely. “I had a plush just like this one, so… yeah.” You don’t know what else to say, look away from him. You definitely feel better then the minutes before but spending time with Ren felt strange. Like you shouldn’t be as relaxed as you feel.
“I’m glad you think so. I just want you to be comfortable here. With me.” The smile he gives you has an edge to it, his voice sweet with a sharpness. “So… don’t hesitate to trust me, okay?” It’s as if he read your mind. Or maybe perhaps, was questioning your motives.
“I… won’t.” You answer softly, laying down in the bed with the plushie protectively held to your chest. You go under the covers and mumble out. “Good night, Ren.” This time, you openly squeal as you feel his hands circle around your waist. He happily cuddled up to you, tail and legs wrapping around your own and head nuzzled atop yours.
“Night _____. Rest well.” His whispered voice in your ear causes you to shiver. You can’t help but think that you’ve only gotten yourself into a worse situation than the one you found yourself in before…
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So Good I Could Cry
I saw this post, and knew immediately that I had to write a fic for it. This is my first fic above a T rating, so it was written in one sitting before I could lose my nerve. What follows is the softest, most gentle M-rated fic I think you can find. Additionally, I am very ace, and thought that I was writing Harry as allosexual, until Vukovich told me how much ace Harry came through in this fic, so please take a moment to laugh at my naïvety and then to thank @vukovich for being a wonderful beta reader and for ensuring that I tagged this properly 💜
Words: 1,828 Rating: Mature Summary: There was a tumblr post asking who in your ship cries during sex, and I knew my answer immediately - Harry cries during, and Draco cries afterwards in secret. Read on ao3 here
It’s all so good. Everything has been so good, for months now, that Harry can’t really figure out why it took so long for him to finally ask Draco out. He can’t figure out why multiple years of amazing friendship didn’t turn into dating and kissing sooner, not when it only took him six months to realise that his feelings for Draco weren’t just platonic. He can’t figure out why it took them so long to get here, but he’s beyond glad that they finally have.
Harry’s lost count of how many dates they’ve gone on (although Draco probably knows; he’s obsessive like that, and Harry loves that he knows that about him), or how many times they’ve kissed, or how many scorching looks Draco has given him from the other side of the room. They’ve been taking things slowly, per Draco’s wishes, although Harry hasn’t minded, and has, in fact, been delighted to watch Draco open up to him even more with every dinner and every kiss, like a flower opening so slowly into the morning sun.
Now, though, they’re here, in Harry’s bed with Draco pink-cheeked and sweaty over him, for the very first time. And it’s so good, just like everything else, just like Harry knew it would be, because it’s Draco here with him. Draco’s nerves have dissipated, and he’s radiant, leaning down to kiss Harry, making soft little noises that Harry could listen to forever, beaming and laughing, pressing his eyes shut even as his mouth falls open. There’s a strand of hair that’s come free from its queue, falling alongside Draco’s flushed cheeks, and Harry is overjoyed to watch it sway back and forth, curling up into a gentle ringlet, because that means that Draco must secretly straighten his hair, and Harry knows this now, an intimate little secret to discover even in the midst of this intimate act itself. They’ve been together for so long tonight that Draco’s hair straightening charms have worn off, and he’s comfortable enough with Harry that he hasn’t bothered to refresh them, and now Harry gets to know that there’s a wave to Draco Malfoy’s pin-straight hair, and no one else gets to have that secret.
He reaches a hand up and twirls a finger through Draco’s hair, then cups his face to simply admire him for a moment. Harry doesn’t think that anyone could ever really look attractive during sex. It’s too sweaty and red-faced and slightly gross for anyone to actually look hot the whole way through, but Draco right now is so lovely, so captivatingly beautiful, both for his red-flushed, sweaty face and for how open he is in this moment of vulnerability.
“I love you,” Harry says, before he can stop himself. He’s said it before, a few times, and he’s certain that Draco feels the same way, even if he hasn’t said it back yet. Still, Harry hadn’t wanted to pressure him right now, hadn’t wanted to risk making Draco think that he had to say it back to him at this moment because of everything else. Draco beams, though, and kisses him fiercely, and somewhere in the middle, Harry tips over into ecstasy, coming back to himself moments later with tears wet on his cheeks and more still streaming from his eyes.
They kiss some more after, and then just hold each other close, drifting in and out of sleep for a while. Draco doesn’t say anything about the tears that took a few minutes to stop, although Harry thinks he’d be well within his rights to. Honestly, who cries during sex because their boyfriend secretly has curly hair? Instead, Draco just kisses him, and runs his thumbs under Harry’s eyes to wipe away the tears, and kisses him again while fresh ones appear.
When Harry wakes up an unknown amount of time later, he can still feel the salt, tacky on his cheeks. He passes a hand over his eyes, then scrubs it across his face, before reaching out to pull Draco close to him once more. His hand meets nothing but empty sheets, still warm from Draco’s body, but rapidly cooling. And Harry knows, because he knows Draco, that he’ll be back soon. He hasn’t gone far, nor has he gone for good, and Harry is sure of it even before he sees the light shining from under the ensuite door. If Harry could be patient for two minutes, Draco would surely return to him, eager to reclaim his place next to Harry in their warm bed, and to press his always freezing toes in between Harry’s legs. But Harry’s in love with him, and everything is so good when they’re together, and he doesn’t want to be separated even for the next two minutes, and so he gets up and pads over to the bathroom door, knocking gently to preserve the quiet of the pre-dawn stillness.
“Draco?”
There’s no answer, but Harry can hear the sink running, so he pushes the door open a crack and says Draco’s name again, sees his bare back stiffen slightly at the sound of Harry’s voice. He splashes water on his face once, then turns around with a towel pressed to his cheeks, patting himself dry even as Harry steps into his space and puts his hands gently around Draco’s waist. Draco leans into the touch, but doesn’t respond in kind, continuing to dry his face, the towel now an obstacle, keeping Harry from kissing him like he so desperately wants to. Instead, Harry slips his pinkies into the waistband of the boxers Draco has put back on, and gently smooths his thumbs up and down Draco’s sides.
“Hi,” he says, still making an effort to be quiet for no reason.
“Hello,” Draco whispers back, the towel still obscuring his face and muffing his voice slightly.
“Is everything alright?” Harry gives one of Draco’s hips a gentle squeeze, and Draco sways slightly into his hand.
Draco nods, but doesn’t say anything, and the towel is still hiding his face, which means Harry is forced to judge by Draco’s stiff shoulders how much of a lie his nod was. Harry slowly pulls the towel down, revealing Draco much as he was only an hour before; his face is red and blotchy, his hair is mussed, and his eyes are closed. Unlike before though, his face is now wet with tears instead of perspiration, and Harry feels a stab of pain go through his heart at the idea that something is marring this perfect night for Draco.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, moving his hands to cup Draco’s face, almost able to see the same motion echoed between them from earlier in the evening.
Draco shakes his head, and another tear falls to meet Harry’s thumb before being wiped away.
“Nothing. I’m fine, truly I am. I don’t know why I’m crying.”
Harry wipes away another tear and tilts Draco’s chin up gently until he meets his eyes. He can’t quite parse the emotions that he sees going across Draco’s face, but he can understand, at least in part, how Draco must be feeling. Tonight was a big step for both of them, their first time together, but it was Draco’s first time ever, and Harry feels like his chest might burst with love for Draco for letting him share this moment with him. Some of that must be reflected on his own face, because Draco gives him a watery little smile and tries again to explain.
“I’m fine, it’s just…” ‘A lot’ finishes Draco’s voice in Harry’s head, but he remains silent and gives Draco the chance to say the words for himself. “A lot,” he says, with another small smile, and then his lower lip begins to quaver again. “It’s all been really good!” he hastens to add. “And I’m fine!” he says, more tears splashing down his face. “It’s just a lot, all at once.”
Harry nods his head, wipes Draco’s tears, and kisses him. It’s not one of their best kisses, Draco sniffles in the middle of it, and Harry’s pretty sure that there’s snot in his mouth, but it’s still absolutely perfect, because it’s the two of them standing together in the middle of Harry’s bathroom at some wretchedly early hour in the morning.
When they pull apart, Harry swipes his thumbs across Draco’s cheeks again and says, “I get it.” At Draco’s raised eyebrow - and, oh, what a joy, to see Draco’s dearly loved prickly little personality pushing through his tears - Harry reminds him, “I was crying earlier tonight, too.” He shrugs. “It can be overwhelming sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t amazing.”
Draco scrubs the towel across his face once more, then fits himself to Harry’s body, pressing his face into the spot between his neck and shoulder that he had been kissing earlier that evening. Draco’s nose presses into a tender area, and Harry thrills to consider that he might have a bruise there in the morning, and can’t wait to avoid all of Draco’s attempts to heal it with magic, instead letting it linger for days as a reminder of tonight. Maybe, he thinks nonsensically, he could even get a tattoo there, to preserve it for all eternity.
“I woke up and wanted to wash my hands,” Draco says out of nowhere, the words slightly muffled against Harry’s skin, “and when I saw myself in the mirror, I just. I don’t know. I guess I thought that maybe I would look different, afterwards. Which, I know that’s silly, but I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see. And I couldn’t tell if I looked different or not. All I could think about was how I must have looked to you-”
“Absolutely gorgeous,” Harry interrupts, and Draco laughs a little before pressing on.
“And then I was thinking about how you looked at me, and, and, and you love me-”
“I do,” Harry says,
“-and,” Draco’s fists tighten against Harry’s back, and he can feel the material of the towel Draco is still holding move against his spine. Draco pulls back slightly, and looks Harry in the eye. He’s a bit of a mess, with his cheeks a chaotic pink and his eyelashes spiky from tears, but once again Harry is certain that he’s never seen anyone more lovely, “and, Harry, I love you too,” he says, and possibly some other words after that, but those are lost into Harry’s mouth, kissing him thoroughly before lifting him up, letting Draco wrap his legs around Harry’s waist, and carrying him back to bed.
When Harry wakes up the next morning, it’s with Draco curled around him, his face pressed against Harry’s chest, and the bathroom hand towel, which Harry now realises is the novelty Celestina Warbeck one that Draco got him as a joke, squashed under his armpit. It’s so strange, and so perfect, that Harry wants to laugh. It’s all just really good.
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dirtytransmasc · 1 year
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Do you think Spider bonded with any of the recoms outside Quaritch? Like, Fike taught him how to play poker, Z-Dog always bitched at him for slowing them down while shoving a water bottle in his hands, because she’s always got an eye on her Colonel’s six and now there’s a kid constantly there, etc? Idk, I just love the idea of this feral group of marines adopting an equally feral child.
oh absolutely.
now I don't much about the team individually, so this will be sparse.
I totally headcanon that zdog and spider have a very "he's not my kid, but he's not not my kid" and "she's not my mom, but she's not not my mom" type relationship. they hate each other (lovingly) but zdog aggressively takes care of spider (forcing him to drink water, making sure he sleeps, making sure he doesn't sun burn, making sure he doesn't climb to high or mess with too big an animal. she picks him by the armpits like a toddler aggressively, and 'yells' at him when he scrunches up like a feral kitten. he's always sticking to her side when Quaritch is busy, annoying her. he's always going out of his way to do something dangerous in front of her, cause she always freaks out.
he gets looped into games of poker and rummy by Fike and Mansk almost every night, he becomes especially fond of BS, just cause it's the only time he can scream 'bullshit' without getting scolded for his mouth.
he teaches the squad to use their ears instead of a scope to spot things around them. he teaches them about their queues, how to bid with different things, how important they stem
they teach the kid better self defense, cause within the Na'vi world, his only form of defense was to run, to get to a vantage point and use a bow, of to hide. they teach him use a gun (their idea of a good time, but spider hates it, he pretends for their sake) and some hand to hand (not like he can use against the Na'vi, who are twice his size, but it's the the thought that counts).
mansk tells terrible dad jokes 24/7 and does The Dad Shoulder Pat, cause look at those sunglasses, you wanna tell me he wouldn't?
spider also introduces them to the idea of sleep piles, they play hide and seek/tag whenever the higher ups aren't looking, pull pranks on said higher ups, they have their own version of 'cheese touch' that probably has something to do with someone underwear (cause they're all nasty like that), they play game on the ikran, spider does all of their hair (that's his idea of bonding time, sue him), and lyles the fun uncle. cause why not.
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