#{ Time To Make History } * IC Musing

[lovebugism]

do something with king steve who secretly likes female/shy/reader

hope u like it xoxo — the one where king steve keeps his best girl a secret (shy!fem!r, secret relationship, fluff, 1.2k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

“Boo!”

You jump when a figure appears suddenly behind the door of your opened locker. They’re wearing bell bottoms and a sparkly clip in their strawberry curls. Carol Perkins giggles when her attempts to scare you work. Tommy Hagan follows just behind her, laughing louder until his freckled face scrunches together.

The only reassuring thing about seeing both of them together is knowing Steve isn’t too far behind. He’s got his tongue in his cheek, and his arms crossed over his chest, visibly unamused.  “What are you guys— three?” he scoffs, pushing the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows.

“Yeah, three inches deep in your mom,” Tommy retorts with a boyish chuckle.

Carol squints her made-up eyes at him. She deadpans, “That’s not the comeback you think it is, Hagan.”

You turn to Steve with a panicked glimmer in your eye. You’re so used to being the butt of all their jokes that being in their proximity now fills you with something close to ice-cold dread. You peer at the boy beside you with pinched-together brows, knowing he’s the only one who cares about you past cheating off your homework.

“What’s going on?” you wonder quietly, for only him to hear.

Steve grins, brows raised and eyes twinkling. “My house is gonna be empty tonight. ‘Cause, you know, my dad’s got a work conference or whatever, so… No parents. Big house—”

“A total recipe for disaster,” Tommy interjects with a laugh.

“You’re throwing a party?” you ask, voice trembling. There’s little more that scares you than crowds — well, crowds and loud music and drunk people. Parties were never your scene. Steve knows that better than anyone.

He corrects you quickly, stammering over himself because he never wants you to feel uncomfortable. “No! No, not a party. It’s gonna be lowkey. Just a— a get-together, you know? Just the four of us.”

“Ooh,” Carol croons from behind you. “So no priss?”

“Shut up, Carol,” Steve snaps.

“I’m just used to you following her around like a lost puppy, that’s all.” Carol and Tommy laugh about it together. ‘Cause that’s all they’re really good at — making stupid jokes and cackling like supervillains.

Steve rolls his eyes with an annoyed huff and turns his attention back to you. You take it from him wholly, every ounce of his focus. 

There was something ethereal in your vagueness — in how softly you spoke and how pretty you looked when you weren’t even trying. You’re quiet and mysterious and hidden. Steve desperately wants to be the one that deciphers you.

“Are you in?” he asks in a low, honeyed tone.

Your gaze falls to the tile. “I don’t know…” you murmur.

“C’mon,” he croons and steps closer to you. His sneakers enter your vision until you look up at him again, peering at him from beneath your lashes. His grin is pink and pretty and lopsided. “Don’t leave me with these assholes all night.”

“Dick,” you hear Tommy scoff from behind you. He sounds much further away than that ‘cause all you can see now is Steve. And his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his stupid pretty smile.

You cave instantly. 

You never really stood a chance, anyway. Not with the way he was looking at you.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble and turn back to your locker. You switch your English textbook for a History one and cradle it in your arms. Steve grins, knowing he’s forgotten his on purpose just so he could sit next to you all period.

“Good,” the boy hums.

“We’re finally wearing Wallflower down,” Carol muses, giggling to herself.

Tommy knocks you too hard on the shoulder. “You’ll be one of us in no time,” he grins.

You grimace as they walk off down the hall. That’s the last thing you’ve ever wanted. The thought of there being an ounce of similarities between you and them makes your stomach ache.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Steve tells you, smiling quietly when you nod. 

He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and passes you a folded-up piece of paper. He doesn’t look back at you when he follows his friends down the corridor. You don’t open it until he’s gone.

West wing chem lab, he’s written in chicken scratch. Come find me. 

—————

The hallway at the west end of the school is dim and empty. The floors are untouched, and the lockers are sparingly opened. The air is thick and noticeably stale. You open the door to the old chemistry room with a high-pitched squeak that sounds like something out of a horror movie.

Steve waits for you in the dark classroom, lit only by the natural sunlight streaming in through translucent curtains. He sits at a table in front of the window and toys with the burner at the end of it. He turns the thin blue flame on and off and on again, silently wishing he’d plucked a cigarette from Tommy before he left.

His honey eyes flit to yours when you walk into the room. He grins at the soft smirk on your bitten lips. “What’s that look for, huh?” he teases, turning off the burner and sliding off the desk.

You shrug. “Nothin’…”

“I missed you.”

You scoff when he wraps his arms around you. His wide palms smooth over your back. “You just saw me.”

“It doesn’t count when I’m with Tommy and Carol. I need you all to myself…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs lowly, ducking down to kiss you. His plush lips lock with yours, tasting of nicotine and chewing gum — a near-lethal concoction. He smiles against your mouth when you melt further into him. He parts from you with a gentle smack.

“They’re starting to like me, I think,” you mumble, smoothing your hands over his chest. “Tommy and Carol.”

“I think so, too.”

“It’s awful.”

“Absolutely disgusting,” he concurs, grinning wide when you giggle.

“But, you know, maybe we wouldn’t have to hide anymore,” you stammer, gaze falling when it becomes too hard to hold his. “If they don’t think I’m, like, the lamest person on the planet.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that’s why you don’t want them to know about us, right? ‘Cause you’re King Steve, and I’m… fish bait,” you conclude with a forced laugh.

“No,” he answers instantly. “What? No. That’s not— That’s not why.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want them to know about us because they’re assholes,” Steve confesses. “I mean, they were awful to Nancy when we were together. ‘Cause they’re miserable, and they hate when other people are actually nice. I just don’t want them to… ruin anything, that’s all…”

You muss with a rogue thread at the neckline of his sweater and smile quietly to yourself. “I thought you were scared because you accidentally fell in love with the Wallflower instead of the Prom Queen.”

Steve scoffs. “I didn’t accidentally fall in love with you, first of all.”

“No?” you murmur, brow quirking in disbelief. 

“No, it was very intentional.”

“I don’t believe that,” you argue with a lighthearted chuckle. You think it’s easier than saying, I don’t believe you because there’s no way you love someone like me because you want to.

Steve’s palms squeeze your sides reassuringly, like he can hear all the mean thoughts swirling in your head. “Well, you didn’t make it any easier on me,” he tells you, a crooked smile tugging at his pink lips. “You started talkin’ all smart in Ms. Click’s class, and I started melting.”

“That’s when you knew you liked me?” you scoff. “After I gave a presentation about geopolitical tensions in China?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, licking his lips with heavy eyelids. “See what I mean? That’s hot.”

“God, you’re such a boy.”

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 35 Preview

Coming soon...

"You are almost ready," Yelena said with a smile, just after the stylists left. "Now the jewelry."

You paused, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your gown was an exclusive creation by a top designer, a beautiful sleeveless, a-line creation in layers of tulle, sequins, and matte satin. Shades of pale blue and gold transformed you, enhanced by the ornate way your hair was done, the subtelty of your carefully applied makeup. Beneath you wore the most elegant little gold heels that were surprising comfortable despite their minimal style. The stockings were sheer, hugging your upper thighs just below the skimpy ice-blue panties you wore.

The mention of jewelry brought up an unhappy memory and you knew Yelena recalled it too when your gaze met hers. How your husband's ex-mistress smuggled her necklace in for you to wear on another special occasion had never been solved.Had it been Neal? Hansen? A reminder from the not-too-distant past that your enemies could reach you at any time. A reminder to be vigilant. 

"What jewelry?" you asked carefully.

Yelena smiled. "I picked it up myself," she told you, lifting a delicate strand of diamonds set in gold from a black velvet box on the bed. 

When she draped it around your throat, you smiled at the way it completed your look. There were matching earrings, diamond studs each with a teardrop diamond dangling and catching the light. The set was exquisite. 

"Harry Winston," your friend told you, admiring how they looked on you.

"Nice of them to loan them to us for the ball," you told her, grateful you got to wear them. 

Yelena reached for the golden mask on the bed, holding it to you. "No loan. Steve bought them."

What?

"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."

Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with the mayor there, one of the state senators. So many wealthy, important people like you."

That had you scoffing. "I'm no one special. At least not in the world of such important, political figures."

"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."

"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.

Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. A soft mask of golden sequins that fit over your eyes. 

Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of that name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.

"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.

"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."

You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"

"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 

That had you smiling. Sure, Scott would keep you and Steve safe, but he also got time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena knew Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But since you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena, too.

But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all that she'd been through?

You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know that I'm ready."

"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 

Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.

Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 

"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."

"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."

Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.

"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."

You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.

But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 

Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories you heard now that you were more involved were just horrified. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.

It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.

"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver.

A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.

And still that little kernel of dread lingered.

You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like you got the look right. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 

"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."

Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion, seasons, all of it. You would learn. But until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.

As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.

Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."

"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.

You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.

"You know I will," he muttered.

Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.

"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 

Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

You couldn't help the smile that question brought on. "Yes."

Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a fairytale princess tonight."

Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes at his heartfelt words. He meant them. He was taking you out to a society function, dressed you up like you were going to the fucking Oscars. A night out like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You'd been excited since he told you he got the tickets two weeks ago.

[yee-littleskittles]

Yandere Doctor x Fem Reader 🩺

Where to begin…

Let’s say, one day you caught the flew, how tragic 😔

You had no other option but to go to the doctors and HOPE that they give you some stronger medication ( cuz Advil wasn’t cutting it)

As you stumble into the office, and make an appointment you lock eyes with some pale ice blue ones, woah!

“He sure is cute” you think, and without realizing it your face starts to heat up

You look away in embarrassment for a moment and hear a deep chuckle, “oh god he’s laughing 😖” you think

Finally after some minutes pass by your name is called into room 512, to Doctor H. Was that the doctor that chuckled at you?

Once inside the nurse assured you that the doc would be in a few minutes, due to all the drowsinessyou soon fell asleep in the chair…

Soon you started to feel a hand on your face, a chilly one at that, eventually you slowly opened up your eyes and found yourself being towered by the doctor with ice blue eyes

however that cold feeling you felt earlier, yeah, that was his hand, on your cheek?

He just stared... looking deeply into your eyes and features, "God why did he have to be so handsome!" You mentally screamed

Finally after what felt like ages he smiled, genuinely, and said "I'm sorry sweetie, just had to check your temperature, you sure look like you're going through it." He commented, his voice deep and smooth.

You're glad you're fever can take the blame for your flushed face.

"I'm Doctor Noah Harlan, you can just call me Noah" he mused " And I'll be helping you with you're sickness" he said as she went behind his desk and sat down in front of you, leaning in.

You soon began telling him your symptoms, your side effects and any detail that could help you get back to health, he listened in REALLY well, you definitely noticed him not blinking for a few moments. After a bit he took out you're portfolio of medical history.

It’s at times like this he’s grateful he’s a doctor , with all this info about you, he barely has to do a thing! There’s your address, he’ll have to check out your humble home soon!

He hummed, writing things down on his notepad, writing down the medicine that would have you back to your healthy self. Though, he still had to explain the pressure. So, like the good doctor he is, got up and sat next to you leaning in SO Close, you could've sworn to feel his breathe on your face, all to explain what medicine to take at what time, he wouldn't want a beauty like you to be sick again. No no no :)

Once everything was settled, you thanked him for all the help, "Gosh you looked so cute 🥰 " he thought. Just as he was about to walk you out to the Waiting room he ruffled your somewhat messy hair and said "Please keep me in contact, let me know on your progress. Take care!" Then that killer smile, Oh you couldn't help but smile.

Shortly after that appointment you would run into Noah a LOT afterwards, in the store, out in the streets, even at the cafe you regularly visited.

You being nice, would chat with him at any given opportunity, you would think you were dating by how much you were seen in public together.

And Noah, he enjoyed every second. Once you would leave there would always be something you left behind that he would keep or himself, adding to his collection

At the cafe you left a used straw, he took that for himself 😌

At the store, you dropped your strawberry lip balm, well he can't let that go to waste now can he?

One of things he thinks about while being reminded of you is, Children.

Oh how he WISHES for you to carry his children, and the whole genetics of it all had him smiling

Would you're kids have his eyes and your nose? His hair and your smile? Oh the possibilities were endless!

And God save him if your child looked exactly like you, a mini you! All that cuteness would kill him!

However he knew he had to go s l o w... Boy that was gonna be hard.

This man would quite literally take someone else's kidney with no remorse if you needed a transplant. Not just kidneys but ANY body part for that matter.

Anything for his Darling~ ❤️‍🩹

Now would he kidnap you? While it's something he wouldn't want to do he can't help but LOVE the idea of being in the same place as you. And to come back to fund you again! What pleasure he would be in!

So if the circumstances called for it (another man in you're life) he would definitely 😁

Oh but don't worry! You're in the best of hands! He knows what he's doing. You will be pampered to the fullest extent, nothing to too expensive for you, afterall being a doctor pays VERY WELL.

You will be the picture of health when under his care, weather you want it to not 🤷‍♀️

At the end of the day, this Yandere will do anything for you. You want something done and he will make sure it gets done. Anything to see you happy and in his arms~

—————————————

This is my first post so… yeah 😅 hope you enjoyed!

Credits- Picture; From Pinterest

[beauty-and-passion]

TBOB PART 3: OF BILL'S SOLITUDE AND BILLFORD (3/3)

Welcome, everyone, to the last analysis post regarding TBOB.

It has been a long journey - and a fun one too! I’m glad you appreciated all the previous posts and I hope this one will be appreciated as well.

For all disclaimers and premises, please check the links below.

<- Previous post - Masterlist

_______________________________

Cause of his own pain

Before TBOB, I don’t think a lot of people thought Bill would react badly to his breakup with Ford. Maybe he would get angry or become even more possessive - in Journal 3, we know he promised an entire galaxy, to the creature who would’ve brought Sixer to him.

But facing it so badly to go to a pub and drown his sorrows? I doubt it was on a lot of people’s bingo card.

Speaking about the “LOSING SIXER” page a bit more: Bill said Sixer secretly loved “our “will-they-won’t-they-destroy-the-world” relationship”. And for all the people who don’t know, the “will-they-won't-they” is a figure of speech about “a potential coupling between two people who share romantic chemistry, but whose relationship is threatened by uncertainty, external obstacles or internal strife.” (courtesy of Google).

So not only Bill cared about Ford, saw him as similar to himself and has been more honest with him than with everyone else, but he also considered their relationship romantic-coded. He was down for Ford, just as much as Ford was down for him. And it’s pretty clear he was, considering the “one Sixer, please”, followed by him crying, getting drunk, trashing the place and even forgetting his mother died. If that’s not being down bad for someone, I don’t know what it is.

Also, according to THIS interview, Alex Hirsch said that:

Bill’s a trillion years old, so it’s like, Ford disappearing for thirty years is like- [snaps fingers] is like somebody saying they’re ghosting you and then texting you the next weekend, you know what I mean?

So, for Bill, their relationship happened in a very short time. AND YET, he grew so attached to get devastated by Ford disappearing for something that for him was, like, a week. He was down THIS bad.

And, for me, this is the icing on top of the beautiful tragedy that is Billford, because now we can be sure Bill cared before, during and after the breakup. He saw Ford as a potentially romantic partner. He wanted him around.

But because of his unresolved trauma and his inability to properly distinguish feelings, Bill mixed love and fear, thinking they were the same. And the result was losing the only human in the history of mankind he had been interested in.

Furthermore, this makes Billford even more tragic if we consider that, for better or for worse, these two had the potential to become a happy, powerful couple.

Think about it: if Bill wasn’t such a messed up individual, he could’ve been the Muse Ford needed. He could’ve kept being the center of his life and the sun in his galaxy, as Ford said. They’ve found a kindred spirit in each other: they could’ve been each other family, each other’s supporter. And with their cleverness, they really could’ve gone “through hardships to the stars”.

On the other hand, if Ford was a much, much more messed up individual, he could’ve joined Bill in his plans to dominate the galaxy. He could’ve worked with him to bring Weirdmageddon everywhere. He would’ve destroyed everyone and taught “a lesson to all”. He would’ve been to his side, ruling alongside him, “all-powerful, greater than anything you've imagined”, as Bill promised during Weirdmageddon. They would’ve been the most powerful couple ever.

But Bill lost both possibilities and the fault is his own. Just like he lost everything and everyone else in the past, once again, the fault is just his own.

_______________________________

Again as before: alone

TBOB doesn’t end on a happy note. When I reached the last pages, I literally commented with: “Oh boy, that’s truly depressing”.

The way Bill snaps and says that “you turned out like all the rest”, the way he blames his past relationships, his “worthless Henchmaniacs”, his “miserable family” and Sixer. Yes, just Sixer, no bad adjective to add to him - understandable, considering he’s probably still down bad for him.

And he says he just needs one person, someone who will fall for his tricks. He’s not even looking for a special person: he’s just looking for someone. Someone who will get him out. Because he doesn’t miss anyone, nope nope, but he really, really wants someone. Anyone.

To me, this reconfirms Bill is and has been alone, for a very, very long time. Probably since the destruction of Euclydia. He tried to fill the void inside him with some romantic relationships, but he didn’t manage to keep them. He tried with friends, but he cannot understand a friendship not based on submission. He tried with an audience, but it still wasn’t enough.

And when he found the only soul who was so similar to him, both physically and mentally, the only one he was honest with, even if for a brief moment… he lost him too.

And now he’s, once again, alone. He lost his family, his friends, his loved ones. He lost everything.

_______________________________

An immensely fascinating character

Bill is so. Goddamn. Fascinating. He was a fascinating character before, because the series gave us hints about his potentially tragic backstory (the famous “Flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams”). He was interesting and he was hiding something, so he got our attention.

Now, he’s fascinating because he’s multifaceted. He’s complex, he’s tragic, he’s desperate. You can empathize with him and feel sorry for him. But you can also laugh with/at him, fear him, condemn him. His tragic story doesn’t make up for what he did, but it helps us understand how he reached that point. In perspective, it makes all of his choices easier to understand too: Bill never went through all the stages of grief, he’s still stuck in the denial phase. And when you keep carrying denial for such an absurdly long amount of time, your choices and your mentality inevitably end up being skewed.

You know, it’s funny that Bill sees himself as a bidimensional villain, when he’s so, so much more than that. Maybe it’s all part of his trauma, his inability to see himself as more than just the insane monster who destroyed his home dimension. But this book does him justice and portrays him for the incredible, fascinating, complex character he truly is.

And that’s another reason why I respect Alex Hirsch so much. Aside from being funny and clever, this man is full of passion for the world he made. He is Gravity Falls. And, ten years later, he still has a great understanding of the characters: he can portray them so accurately, with so many details and connections to the previously disseminated dots - all while still leaving questions! Man, I can only wish to reach this level of understanding of my own characters.

So, once again, I’m here to thank this man. For creating Gravity Falls and sharing that world, while fighting censorship in every step. And for coming back, ten years later, to give the fandom a second renaissance.

_______________________________

Gravity Falls, it’s good to be back!

I have a ton of moments in my life connected to Gravity Falls, of summers, feelings and memories. This show saved me from depression, brought me up to my feet, took my hand to Canada and back home, then left my hand for a while to make me take some steps alone.

In these years, I learned a lot, improved my English, improved my writing in general. And now, I feel more ready, more mature, more capable of writing something like nine posts to analyze one single book and show at least a small part of the deep love I still feel for this series.

I hope you all felt it - at least a little bit. I hope you enjoyed my stupidly long analysis, my silly theories and my obsession with the triangle guy.

And if you’re still not fed up with me and want more rambling, please feel free to ask for more. Tell me what else do you want me to talk about, if you want episode analyses, if there is something else I missed, if Dipper and Pacifica are truly endgame (the answer is yes). I will write them inbetween other posts about other fandoms (Epic and CCCC, I am coming back for you both).

And if you want new Gravity Falls fanfictions, don’t worry: I have one already in progress, a second one planned and a third one still in my mind. Maybe not all three of them will see the light of day, but who knows? Maybe I will get new ideas too. The love for this series is too strong on me and I need to express it somehow <3

So stay tuned, because we will meet again very, very soon~

Thank you all for your time and attention and I wish you all a nice day <3

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

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[ddejavvu]

headcannon for Remus

I feel like remus would be the type of person to stop you (and his friends) from getting in trouble and then saying "the blame would be on me" as an excuse cuz he's trying to show he doesn't care much. We all know he's just subconsciously the responsible and logical one in the group so he'd try not to make a big deal outta it. (P.s. I do this a lot with my friends and sister, and Ik damn well that I won't get the blame)

Remus, for his own protection, acts aloof. You understand why, he can't let on too many weaknesses or else the people that aren't too fond of him would only have more to work with. But if you observe him carefully, you can see the tenderness escape his mouth through words disguised as insults.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard, Prongs." Remus drawls, thumbing through the pages of his history of magic textbook, in search of an answer, "You're losing your touch."

"It sounds fun!" You gush, "The freezing charm works fine, we've tested it before! And we skate on the lake all the time in the winter, what's the problem now?"

"The problem now is that you're trying to synthetically freeze the lake," He narrows his eyes at you over the spine of the book, "And you've only tested the freezing charm out on a glass of water. Do you understand how much more manpower you'll need to freeze the black lake? It means you'll need all hands on deck, and I'm not serving detention just because you wanted to ice skate in May."

"I don't buy it," Sirius decides, and Remus tucks his head slightly further towards the book, "I think you're worried about us, Moony."

"I am. I'm worried that you'll die after I choke you out for getting us caught," Remus muses, eyes stuck on a spot in the text rather than scanning the words, "And I'm even more worried about getting thrown in Azkaban for murder."

"That's bullshit!" James gawps, and you agree.

"I think you're worried it'll crack," You hum, "And that we'll fall in, and one of us might get scooped up by the squid, or dragged down by a grindylow. I think you think it's too dangerous."

Sirius and James look pleased at your evaluation, and Remus the opposite. You know the boy's heart is full of nothing but love and adoration (alright, a smidge of annoyance) for you all, but you're well used to the tough persona he puts on.

"You're delusional," Remus diagnoses, "I think you've actually gone mad."

"Don't worry Moony," James gushes, standing from his own bed and crossing to crawl onto Remus's, "We'll stay safe! We'll all cuddle up with you right here-" At his words, you and Sirius bolt for the bed as well, squeezing yourself around him on the mattress despite his protests, "-and we'll stay away from the dangerous lake."

"Promise," You croon, pressing a kiss to his scarred cheek that feels suspiciously hot beneath your lips. Sirius does the same on his other side, and James feels left out, so he tips Remus's head back to kiss upside-down at his forehead.

"Alright, s'enough," Remus snaps, grumbling as you all settle in while he tries focusing on his studies, "Dangerous lake. Forget the squid, I'll drown the lot of you."

[ladamedusoif]

Hot Chocolate (Marcus Pike x gn!reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 3

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist. FYI: I'm having so much trouble with taglists at the moment that I'm not going to use them for now - if you want to keep updated, turn on notifications for my posts.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x gn!reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 1280 words

Warnings: Implied smut, some heavy making out, Marcus being an adorable foodie romantic art nerd, fluff city. No use of Y/N and no physical descriptions of Reader whatsoever. 

Summary: Snowed in and forced to stay over at your colleague’s Georgetown apartment, Marcus whips up a sweet treat to keep you warm.

“I don’t have much by way of dessert,” Marcus muses from the kitchen, where he’s peering into his fridge. 

You finish gathering the last of the takeout boxes from his dining table and begin cleaning them out at the sink. “You’ve given me a room for the night, Marcus, I don’t need dessert. Hey, where’s your recycling bin?” 

He gestures to a cupboard near the sink and leans back on the counter, thinking. “Actually, would you like some hot chocolate? I think I’ve got everything I need.”

Everything he needs?, you think, wondering what more you could possibly need for hot chocolate beyond some powdered mix and milk. Marshmallows, if you were feeling fancy.

“Sure, sounds good to me.” 

He grins in delight and starts rummaging in a cupboard, emerging with bars of dark chocolate and a jar of ground cinnamon, before delving into the fridge and retrieving milk and heavy cream. A heavy-bottomed saucepan is produced and positioned on the hob as Marcus mutters something about finding his grater.

This isn’t going to be cheap-ass powdered mix, is it.

Alright, full disclosure: if someone hooked you up to a polygraph machine and asked you if you had a teeny tiny harmless little workplace crush on Marcus Pike, you’d have to answer in the affirmative.

And who wouldn’t? He was kind and funny, and smart as hell, quietly undertaking a PhD in art history and cultural policy at Georgetown while continuing to work full-time. He was one of the few people in the team who actually kept up with the art world, regularly seeking you out after a new show opened at the National Gallery to exchange your thoughts on it over coffee in the canteen. 

The fact that he was also really cute didn’t hurt, either. 

When snow and ice blocked the routes out of DC back to your place in Alexandria, leaving you stranded, Marcus immediately suggested that you stay over at his place. See? Kind. 

“I’ll be fine, Marcus, really,” you’d protested, searching for hotel rooms in the city and recoiling when you saw the prices - and the lack of options. “Anyway, isn’t your place a one-bed?”

Marcus shrugged. “I’ve got a big couch, spare blankets and pillows, and I won’t stand by and see you hunkering down here for the night. C’mon. We’ll get takeout - I know a great little Korean place.”

He carefully grates the dark chocolate into a bowl while you whisk most of the cream. 

“Y’know, I really thought you were going to pull out a couple of sachets of Swiss Miss? I should have known better.”

Marcus chuckles to himself and checks the saucepan of milk. “Usually I’m a Swiss Miss kinda guy, I have to admit. But when you have guests, you do the Viennese hot chocolate. I like to make a fuss.”

You hold out the bowl of cream for him to inspect and he nods, eyes crinkling as he smiles at you. You put it down and fold your arms as you watch him work.

“Is it really Viennese, or is that just a name they use to make it sound all fancy?”

He laughs and looks at you in mock horror. “Of course it’s really Viennese! I even had it for the first time in Vienna.” Marcus takes the saucepan off the heat and adds the chocolate along with some sugar, a little cinnamon, and a dash of heavy cream. He begins to whisk the mixture carefully.

“It was one summer when I was a student - I had almost no money, but I did have one of those European Interrail tickets and I tried to see as much great art as I could. Took an overnight train to Vienna to see the Klimts at the Belvedere.” He pauses his whisking to assess the texture, then resumes.

“Like I said, I was down to my last few dollars - or Euros, or whatever the currency was at the time - but the one thing I was gonna do besides see the Klimts was go to a real Viennese café.”

The hot chocolate is frothy now, thick and glossy. Marcus nods in the direction of a cupboard and you open it, finding some mugs.

“So I’m guessing you got to a café.”

He turns off the stove and smiles at the memory. “Sure did. Café Central. It was like something out of a Stefan Zweig novel.” He takes a ladle out of a drawer and proceeds to fill the mugs with the steaming chocolate. “And I had a mug of something a bit like this - but much, much better - and a slice of apple strudel, and it was heaven.”

Marcus finishes off the chocolate by placing a large dollop of whipped cream in each mug, and hands one to you.

“This is…incredible. I don’t think I can ever go back to Swiss Miss.”

Marcus chuckles and sips his chocolate, sitting beside you on the couch. “I’m glad you like it. Perfect drink for a snowed-in night.”

You take another deep draught of the delicious, smooth drink and hum happily to yourself. “And I’m checking out flights to Vienna first chance I get.”

He looks at you intently. “Uh, you’ve… uh…”

You can see a giggle rising in his chest. He can’t suppress it, and he laughs out loud. 

“Why is the thought of me going to Vienna so funny to you?”

Marcus’s expression shifts to one of concern and he quickly shakes his head. “No, that sounds wonderful - you’ll love it - it’s just…” He reaches over and gently rubs the tip of your nose with his thumb, removing a large blob of whipped cream. “You had a little, uh, something.”

“Oh. Oh. I’m sorry.” You look down into your mug, a little embarrassed, but try to lighten the mood. “Feels like we’re in a scene from a cheesy holiday movie, y’know?”

He quirks his head. “How so?”

“Oh, you know. The whole ‘one character has whipped cream or something on their face and the other has to swipe it away and then…’”

You stop short, realising what you were about to say - and becoming very aware of just how close you are to him now.

Marcus’s voice is warm and low. “And then?”

Is he moving closer?

“And then… um. And then they usually, uh…”

He finishes your sentence by leaning in and kissing you, softly, gently at first. Your breath hitches as you feel the softness of his lips on yours. 

He breaks away for a second, staying close. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s…it’s great.” 

He takes your mug and puts it on the coffee table before cradling your face in his big hands and leaning in to kiss you again: a little harder, now, his tongue seeking entry to your mouth as your hands reach for his body and you lean back on the couch. 

You moan and whine with pleasure as you feel Marcus’s hands caressing your body, taste the bittersweetness of the chocolate on his lips and tongue. As he moves his mouth to your neck, sucking and nibbling and licking his way along the sensitive skin, you begin to unbutton his shirt and reach for his belt buckle.

“Marcus?”

He looks up for an instant, hair tousled and eyes as deep and dark and shiny as perfect hot chocolate.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch tonight. You’re keeping me warm in bed.”

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[consultingsister]

The isolated ski resort, La Montagne Solitaire, caters to an elite clientele. Known for its pristine slopes, luxurious spa, and breathtaking views, the resort is nestled high in the Swiss Alps. Guests arrived just before the season’s first major snowfall, excited for days of skiing and nights of decadence. But after an avalanche hits the night of the murder, communication with the outside world is cut off—there's no signal, and the rescue team is delayed for three days. Panic slowly sets in as the guests realise they are trapped with a murderer among them. The resort's staff, led by the mysterious concierge, have locked down the hotel in hopes of protecting the guests. But with tensions rising and secrets starting to surface, it’s only a matter of time before someone else gets hurt.

This is a group murder mystery verse created for independent OCs and canon muses. Tumblr + discord based. More info under the cut.

Meet our murder victim, Étienne Lacroix. A fifty-four Art Dealer and Antiquities Collector.

Étienne Lacroix is known for his impeccable taste and shady business dealings. A well-established art dealer, he has amassed a fortune brokering high-stakes deals between powerful clients in Europe and beyond. He moves in elite circles, yet his reputation is tainted by whispers of illegal trades and stolen artefacts. Despite the luxury of his life, Étienne is a man with many enemies, and the world of art is more cutthroat than most realize.

Étienne presents himself as cultured and refined, the perfect dinner guest who can speak at length about art, history, and travel. But beneath the surface, he is ruthless in business and personal affairs alike. He has a long history of broken promises and ruined reputations, and few truly mourn his death—many at the resort even consider it overdue. He’s made plenty of enemies, from jealous competitors to clients he's double-crossed.

Unbeknownst to most of the guests, Étienne had a past that was darker than mere art fraud. His dealings in stolen antiquities had connected him to dangerous circles, including criminals who would stop at nothing to recover their stolen treasures. Recently, he’d been involved in a deal that went sour, where a priceless artefact vanished—leading some to speculate whether he was hiding it or, worse, had already sold it to another bidder.

Your Character

Please submit your character sheet.

Name:

Age:

Occupation:

Faceclaim:

Short Description: Provide a brief overview of your character’s personality, and any quirks that make them stand out. Think of this as their first impression on the other guests. Are they charming, eccentric, or perhaps a little too quiet?

Secret: Every character in this story has a secret. What are they hiding from the other guests? It could be something from their past, a shady business deal, or a personal vendetta. Be creative—this will add layers to their interactions and might tie into the larger mystery.

Motive for the Murder: Why might your character have a reason to want Étienne Lacroix dead? It could be personal, professional, or even incidental, but give your character a clear reason why they might be a suspect. This is where the fun starts!

Connections to Other Guests/People: Does your character know any of the other guests at the resort? Are they friends, rivals, or complete strangers? These relationships can create interesting dynamics and give your character more to play off of. If they don’t know anyone yet, that’s fine too—they’ll make connections as the mystery unfolds.

Once accepted you will be added to the discord server. The server will act primarily as a place for updates but there will be a chance to chat ooc and there will be ic chat rooms for one-liners/dialogue.

Role Assignment and Killer Selection Once 6-8 roles have been filled, each member (myself included) will be assigned a number. I will use a random number generator to determine The Killer, who will be notified privately by me. IMPORTANT: The Killer’s identity must remain a closely guarded secret. Under no circumstances should this role be revealed, either in or out of character. Doing so will spoil the entire game (and result in removal from the group—so let’s keep things fun, yeah?).

This roleplay is meant to unfold gradually and organically. You can join as long as you're committed to contributing regularly to the story. It’s open to all fandoms, canon characters, and OCs, but inactive players will be replaced to ensure the narrative keeps moving.

Group Etiquette

OOC drama will not be tolerated and will result in immediate removal from the group—no exceptions.

Duplicate face claims won’t be allowed to avoid confusion.

The group will be relaxed but do stay engaged. This is a collaborative mystery, and silence disrupts the fun for everyone.

Plot Progression Throughout the roleplay, I will introduce plot points to guide the narrative and provide opportunities for character interactions. These events will unravel over several days of in-story time, encouraging your characters to collaborate, investigate, or accuse one another. These will include key moments like:

The Discovery of the Murder

An Avalanche that Traps the Guests

Plot point 1

Plot point 2

The Final Showdown

Expect the unexpected, and use these plot points to deepen your character’s story while piecing together clues.

Keep an eye on the group’s tag: *s(no)w escape murder mystery for updates and threads.

Let’s unravel this mystery together!

[thelittlestladylikesthis]

The Pink Rose, part 3

Part Three- July 4th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 2,972

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, couple argument, slapping, guilt, age gap, pet names, heterosexual relationship

**** Almost all characters and parts of the storyline are not my original creation and are credited to Suzanne Collins. And please be nice. Warning line marks 18+ part

[Y/n] had almost forgotten what it felt like to sit in the plush, velvet seats on the train that would take them to the Capitol. Haymitch was on the train somewhere; probably the bar car, and Effie would be escorting Katniss and Peeta to the train station about now. [Y/n] had boarded the train early to make herself up to Effie and the Capitol’s standards. She pinned her hair up with a hairpin that had a snake on one end and it’s eyes made of green stones. Her silk dress was a deep emerald color and wrapped around her shoulders was a sheer, matching shawl. On her feet were a set of black high heels with what might have been the sharpest toe point in history. Starting today and until the end of the games, [Y/n] would have to step into the role of the glamorous, voluptuous, female victor from District 12. The diamond in the rough who had been extracted from 12 by the Hunger Games. This was an embarrassing way to be seen and [Y/n] hated it. She felt dirty wearing an outfit that could no doubt have been sold to feed a family of 4 for at least a month. But the other Victors would only see her for what she was: a formidable opponent who had defied the odds in her own game, but never had tributes who could do the same.

Shaking her head away from the superficial complaints she’d kept to herself, she thought of Katniss and Peeta. Would they be receptive to her help? To what extent did they even have a chance? How long would they last? [Y/n] felt evil thinking that last part; but as Haymitch had said in the past, the earlier they die, the longer you have to drink about it. 

After an eternity of waiting, the silver door to the train car slid open, and in walked Katniss, followed by Peeta and Effie. The two teens had identical looks of shock on their faces. It would’ve been quite the sight to a young person from District 12. Nothing in their District was this shiny or immaculate. Even with Peeta being the son of a baker, [Y/n] doubted that neither he or Katniss had ever seen such an array of baked goods and fruit in their lives. The two took seats near [Y/n]. They moved slowly as if they were afraid they might break something. No doubt the very color of the fabric on the chairs was foreign to them.

Effie poured two cups of tea- one for herself and one for [Y/n]. She brought the cups over and made herself comfortable.

“200 miles per hour and you can barely feel a thing,” she mused excitedly to the teens, “I think it’s one of the wonderful things about this opportunity- that even though you’re here and even though it’s just for a little while, you get to enjoy all of this!”

[Y/n] smirked because Peeta and Katniss did not appear to fully share Effie’s excitement at their “opportunity”. 

Effie could only stand so much awkward tension before she got up and walked out of the car, “I’m going to find Haymitch; he’s probably in the bar car!”

[Y/n], Katniss, and Peeta sat in silence for several minutes, just observing each other and glancing around the car so as not to make eye contact. Just when the silence was about to break, the car door slid open and in walked Haymitch. He had the slightest sway when he walked, but other than that he was still in a functional stage of drunkenness. 

He looked at Katniss and Peeta and with a hint of sarcasm said, “Congratulations,” before walking to the small liquor cart to pour himself another drink. [Y/n] rolled her eyes at the snide comment from her fellow victor. The group continued to sit in silence, this time all watching Haymitch as he rummaged through the cart and mumbled, “No ice? Why can’t they get ice?” he slammed down the lid on the ice bucket, making Peeta jump in his seat. With a glass in one hand, Haymitch decided to just drink straight from the bottle if he couldn’t have his drink iced. Katniss’ eyes followed him suspiciously as he walked towards them and sat down next to [Y/n]. Katniss was just worried that he’d try and hug her again.

Peeta looked at Haymitch and [Y/n], cleared his throat and asked “Okay, when do we start?”

Haymitch immediately held up one hand, “Whoa! So eager!” [Y/n] placed a hand on his shoulder as he continued his sarcastic remark, “Usually you all aren’t in such a… hurry,”

Before [Y/n] could open her mouth, Peeta looked right at Haymitch and without missing a beat, “Yeah, well, you’re our mentor, you’re supposed to tell us how to get sponsors and give us advice!”

Haymitch looked at him with an irritated expression, “Oh, well then, embrace the possibility of your imminent death and know- in your heart- that there’s nothing I can do to save you,”

Peeta glared at him as Katniss shot back, “So why are you here then?”

“For the refreshments,” Haymitch got up, put his hand on [Y/n]’s shoulder and then walked back towards the bar car.

Peeta shot up before calmly stating, “He’ll come around, I’m gonna go talk to him,”

“Peeta!” [Y/n] called, but he ignored her and followed Haymitch out. 

[Y/n] and Katniss stared at each other for a second before [Y/n] sighed, “I’ll apologize for the rude welcoming; not that the whole idea of the Hunger Games is welcoming in the first place. But you should at least be able to trust the few people from your District who will be in the Capitol,”

Katniss nodded and quietly thanked her.

“I think we should wait to talk strategy until the boys are less… riled up,” [Y/n] suggested, “Why don’t you go take some time to yourself? Have a snack and a shower- those will be nonexistent in the arena. Might as well use Capitol resources for your benefit while you can,” she smiled at Katniss and declared she was going to take a nap before dinner as she left the car in the opposite direction of Haymitch and Peeta. 

So far, Katniss liked [Y/n] much better than Haymitch or Effie. There was something about [Y/n] that was kind and comforting, but also mysterious and seemingly held some contempt for the Capitol.

*     *     *

After dinner had been cleared, [Y/n] shooed Katniss and Peeta to bed and told them they had a long day tomorrow. The two didn’t hesitate to leave and struggled to drag their bodies- who’d never been this full of food- back to their quarters.

As soon as the doors slid closed, [Y/n] looked at Haymitch and gave him a disapproving look. Effie looked at the two of them and straightened up in her seat, wondering if [Y/n] would finally be taking her side.

Haymitch looked up at [Y/n] with an oblivious look, “What?”

“Really Haymitch? Those kids need people they can trust before they go into that arena. You didn’t have a mentor at all, and I’ll admit you were no help until you realized I actually had a chance! You could at least try. That’s all I ask is you not act like a drunken fool when you’re around kids from our District who’ve been sent to the slaughterhouse!”

“Why do you suddenly care so much about these two?” He stood up and walked over to her side of the table, “Over ten years and all of a sudden,” he put one hand on the table and one on her chair. He leaned in, “You think you can point the finger and be the only one who cares? You, the one who disappeared to the Capitol for months at a time? Boy, the Capitol must really love you- what did Snow offer you to starting caring more for-”

[Y/n] shot out of her seat and slapped Haymitch sharply across the face as Effie gasped her name loudly.

[Y/n] glowered into Haymitch’s face, “Don’t. Ever. Use Snow and the Capitol against me,” Feeling the tears begin to build, she rushed from the car. Haymitch had no idea what he was talking about. After becoming a Victor, she did spends up to 3 months in the Capitol at a time, but not by choice. Haymitch wouldn’t know. There were maybe two other Victors in all of Panem who more or less knew what she had experienced, and [Y/n] didn’t want her tears to tell the others.

*     *     *

[Y/n] lay in her bed staring at the dark ceiling of her chambers. She had enough experience with the Capitol’s trickery to know that at least one of the four sconce chandeliers held a camera. She was one of the desirable victors, so the Capitol used any chance to collect even a glimpse of her body. This was one of the ironies of being spontaneous at Haymitch’s house; the Capitol could not care less about Haymitch or his sex life. [Y/n] chuckled at the thought of someone paying money to see Haymitch pace around his room, drunk. 

Drunk and angry? How upset was he that she had slapped him? The guilt of attacking the only person who meant anything to her began to build. Did she ruin her chances with him? They’d never had an interaction like that before. A tear ran down her cheek- putting on a show, being nice, and then attacking when they’ve upset you. She was no better than the Capitol.

Her mind raced in circles: she’d just been mad at him for being drunk hours earlier. No- not for being drunk, for how he treated Katniss and Peeta. And she acted irrationally when he said something she didn’t like. And despite how they’d acted, she knew neither of them meant it- she hoped he didn’t mean it. The Capitol had done a number on her and every other Victor. No one came out of the arena the same way they went in, and that followed them until the day they died.

[Y/n]’s mind raced through the countless Victors she’d met who were unstable in so many ways. She must’ve seen crazy to someone too. She threw herself out of bed and realized she hadn’t changed out of her dinner dress or taken off her makeup. At least her hair wasn’t a disaster; not that she cared, Haymitch had seen her bedhead before. [Y/n] wouldn’t be able to sleep again until she apologized. Now.

She picked out a pair of black slippers and made her way to the next train car. The train never ceased to amaze her, sneaking around like a delinquent child and she couldn’t feel the train moving beneath her feet. But the train would feel her and it would see her too. Every hall had a camera to watch who was moving where. [Y/n] shrugged, they could know she was going to see Haymitch at 11:30 at night, but they could only assume what would happen once she went inside.

[Y/n] made it to the next car and found Haymitch’s chambers. She lightly knocked on the door and listened for a response. Instead of a voice, the door quickly slid open. Standing in the doorway was a disheveled Haymitch. His shirt was unbuttoned, his pants wrinkled, and his feet bare. His salt and pepper curls were wild and his grey eyes tired. But something about those eyes became brighter when he realized who was at his door.

After a brief moment, Haymitch grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room and embraced her, “I’m sorry for today,” he whispered into her hair.

[Y/n] was stunned, she didn’t come here looking for an apology, “I came to apologize to you… are you still drunk?”

“No,” he said quietly and let go except for her hand, “I know I’m not because I can feel it… I understand if you don’t want to deal with… this,” he gestured to himself. 

[Y/n] sighed, “You must be forgetting, I’m the one who slapped you. I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am,”

Haymitch chuckled and pointed at the scars across his abdomen, “Not the worst I’ve had,”

She rolled her eyes, “Haymitch, I still feel bad. It was uncalled for and irrational and -”

Haymitch grabbed [Y/n] by her upper arms, and smashed his lips onto her. [Y/n] placed one hand on Haymitch’s chest. He pulled his mouth a few inches away and touched his forehead to hers, “I love you,” [Y/n] felt the fireworks in her chest leap forth.

“I love you Haymitch,” [Y/n] threw her arms around his neck and resumed the kiss. She was noticeably more enthusiastic this time. Haymitch was much taller than her so when he stood all the way up, her feet came off the ground. When their lips parted for air, [Y/n] felt bold and breathed, “Haymitch, I need you,”

Haymitch set her on her feet and stroked his hands down her sides and around to her back. He pulled the small zipper down and let his fingers lightly trail down her spine before allowing the silky dress to slip down her soft curves with ease. His eyes rested on her breasts as a deep breath caught in his chest. [Y/n] slowly pushed Haymitch backwards until he fell onto the bed. He propped himself up onto his elbows and looked into [Y/n]s deep brown eyes. As she gazed down at him, she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, tossing it aside. Haymitch’s eyes widened, his reaction was like he had never seen her body before.He noticed her underwear were made of black lace and cut into a V shape that was hardly there. Haymitch’s breathing faltered as [Y/n] approached him. Unzipping his trousers, she helped him shimmy them lower with his briefs, and allowed him to spring up at attention.

“Well someone is ready to go,” she smiled devilishly.

[Y/n] crawled up the end of the bed and up over Haymitch until she was hovering above him, nose to nose. Haymitch reached up and ran his fingers into her hair, pulling her face towards his and kissing her deeply. She smiled into the kiss and lowered her hips to lightly grind on Haymitch. He released a deep chesty groan before sitting up and whispering into her mouth, “Damn sweetheart, I wanna fuck you again!”

[Y/n] smiled and bit her lip, “Then do it already!”

Haymitch chuckled lightly before getting up on his knees and roughly flipping [Y/n] onto her stomach, “Is this what you want?” He blew into her ear as he pinned her down by her wrists.

“Yes,” [Y/n] wiggled her rear and felt Haymitch stiffen as he moaned lightly.

Unexpectedly, Haymitch let go and [Y/n] felt the bed move as he leaned away from her. She turned around and gave him a confused look.

He furrowed his brow as he stood up and pulled his briefs back on, “What’re we doin’ Sweetheart?”

[Y/n] hadn’t been this confused in a long time, “Wha-?”

“I mean this is great- you’re amazing- but what is this?” He asked.

“What are you talking about? Not five minutes ago you said you loved me!”

“Which makes sense; you’re beautiful, smart, cunning, fiery, and you put up with me. But you loving me? That makes no sense; I’m a miserable, old drunk who took advantage of a girl who I have more than a decade on!” 

“Haymitch… when you’re not absolutely hammered, you’re also smart and cunning… and you’ve always put up with me. We’ve known each other for 13 years. You might be older than I am, but we didn’t start here- I honestly hated you when we first met,” she got off the bed and walked over to him, placing her hand gently on his face, “But I’ve considered you a great friend for a very long time; and I’ve come to realize  in the last few years that you’re the one person in Panem who has ever cared for me in the last 13 years- and I love you,”

Haymitch wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, “Well, I’m sorry I made you love me,” he said with a hint of amusement.

She pulled back in disbelief, “Haymitch, I just poured my heart out!”

“And I’m not good with the lovey stuff; but I can say I love you too,” They stood locked in their embrace for a moment before Haymitch whispered, “Would you be mad if we finished this another night?”

“Absolutely not,” her smile disappeared, “Are we making this into something?”

“Thirteen years seems good enough… you want a title Sweetheart?”

“If we’re gonna sleep together more, I’d like to get rid of any speculation that could imply ‘desperate whore’ in my Victor description,”

Haymitch threw his head back and laughed, “Well I guess you’re gonna be my girlfriend wether the Capitol likes it or not,”

“Wether anyone likes it or not,” she kissed his jaw, “Get some sleep, you need to be a mentor tomorrow,”

Haymitch shook his head as he tossed her a robe, “Get outta here Sweetheart,”

She chuckled lightly as she put on the robe and gathered her things, “Are we crazy?”

“Crazy?” he questioned, “Maybe a little nuts. I’m a drunk. You don’t trust anyone. But I don’t think we’re crazy,” He walked over and hugged her again, lingering a little longer that time.

Masterlist

[sugudoe]

hiihi!!! saw ur most recent and immediately followed and decided to send in an ask for a jjk matchup!! (^з^)-☆

———————————————

characteristics

academic and athletic (figure skating + track)

a bit awkward and quiet at first but definitely loud with close friends!

my mbti is intp

pisces ♓️

i love to stay in and read, play video games, listen to music, and draw

highkey a nerd when it comes to certain things like history or whatnot

such a physical touch love language person but i also love to gift give 🎶 gift giving is such a big thing for me

———————————————

i hope this is good！ ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ i plan to maybe in the future to ask for a mood board… hehe but thank you! have an amazing day/night! ♡

hello! i will love to make your moodboard, and you seem so adorable 🤍 ps: sorry for only one pairing, i’ll be doing this from time to time unless i get confused on pairings — i have other works to post and the matchmakings are for fun, hope u guys understand.

✶ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: inumaki toge

When Inumaki Toge first saw you, he was a bit mesmerized, a bit scared. After all, you were using the train grounds as an ice rink — in the middle of summer. That was the day he learned of you, a new student with a powerful technique, it was hard for him to not fall.

Your first interaction started weird: he speaks in ingredients, you barely speak at all, but against all odds of tongues and social anxieties, you both persisted. Your awkwardness that presented itself intensely with him, soon went away, and Toge couldn’t be any happier — you went on a rampage of talking loud enough for his ears to hurt, but he dare not to contain your excitement.

If your relationship could be described in any way was that the need of talking during dates was out the door, barely knowledge by you both. He taught you sign language before the two of your started dating, so if anything you send him some signs (or texts with many emojis) but all the two of you need is the other to comprehend — is Toge’s mannerisms that speak with you, is your eyes and hands that tell him everything.

It’s weird for everyone else, but so perfectly pretty for the two of you.

Sometimes, in your separates rooms, you both play videogames together. Like “It Takes Two”, and it’s the first time your heard your boyfriend screaming annoyed, and a second later laughing. How sweet he sounds, you sprinted all the way to him to smooch the boy a lot, he easily accepting.

There are the occasions where you are tired and decides to be in his room, your favorite songs in the background, staring at his concentrated face playing a game, he turns your way every minutes to send you a perfect smile and caress to your legs. Oh, how easily it is for him to melt someone with an ice power.

That’s the day you start to draw him, like it was always meant to be for your fingers to trace his minimal details, engraved in your mind. He loves to catch you drawing, not knowing he is your muse, but soon as he see a glimpse of his cursed mark on your art he gets your book, avoiding your timid self and running away, eyes glued to the page, heart beating faster.

He loves you, Toge loves you so much, and he adores how you love him as well.

You reach him by freezing his ankles, and with an angry pout you stare at him, but his eyes are burning into yours with total admiration.

“I love you.” He says. There is no cursed effect to his words, you still cry and lunge at him, repeating it over and over.

Inumaki speaks in love, you kiss him in return, that’s your relationship.

────〃✿ FUN FACTS.

◛ ₊· he tested with a scared yuta and a unwilling panda some words to use with you after the “I love you.” Your name has no effect, and he loves to use it as well.

◛ ₊· Whenever you two fight, if he feels you are less stressed he tells you “c’mere” so you can hug him — he knows you want.

◛ ₊· Toge buys all the game skins you want and cute ones to match his weird ones.

◛ ₊· He loves to get you out from time to time, to places where you can be a total nerd. like museums, his eyes should focus on what’s on display but your happy voice always drawn him in.

[icebear4president]

I wanted to write something for both of the boys ‘birthdays, but I wasn’t able to. Still, I wanted to make something cute, if a little cheesy, for the best brothers ever.

Stars glittered across the dark expanse of the night sky, the only lights that shone during this tranquil time. Except, tonight would be different; now bursts of color would light up the entire sky, signaling the strike of midnight and a bright welcome to a new day.

Matthew sat on his windowsill seat, warm cup of tea in his hands while he admired the fireworks. He wasn't one for extravagant displays, but it was his birthday, so he allowed himself to indulge in it just this once. It only came once a year after all.

Birthdays. He didn't really give them much thought. The most he did was go to a few parades here and there, or indulge in not-so-healthy snacks. Besides, he usually had plans reserved for today...

Loud banging broke him from his musings, and he located the noise almost immediately. There was Alfred waving excitedly from the window across from Matthew, where he showed up every year along with his bag of treats.

Matthew's lip twitched, but he pushed down his amusement, trying to make himself look annoyed while he pushed the window open. "Can't you use the front door like a normal person?" He scolded as Alfred jumped inside besides him.

"And miss the opportunity for my grand entrance? Not a chance bro!" Alfred said, ruffling his hair back to look more presentable. "Except it does mess up my hair."

Matthew chuckled and shook his head fondly, following Alfred who was already making his way to the kitchen. Alfred dropped his bag unceremoniously on the table, digging into it and pulling out the contents. "Let's see, drinks, snacks, doughnuts," he threw the pack at Matthew who caught it with one hand, satisfied to see that Alfred remembered to have them made with chocolate glaze instead of regular, "And of course, birthday cake!"

As the tradition every year, the brothers tried to best each other in a competition to see who could make the best birthday cake. Matthew had a winning streak the last three years, but it seemed Alfred was determined to win, the huge cake shaped like a maple leave, with smaller ones iced on.

"Well?" Alfred asked with a cocky smile, pleased with his creation.

"It's not that bad," Matthew admitted through a mouth full of doughnut. "But the real question is, what flavor is it?"

"A maple pecan cream cake! I hacked into your computer and looked at search history for the recipes you used the most." Matthew went red at that wondering what else his brother saw, but Alfred kept babbling, oblivious to his internal panic. "Can you believe the dude at the bakery actually asked if I wanted it birthday cake flavor? Like what?"

Alfred looked scandalized at the mere suggestion, and Matthew mirrored his expression.

"How can something be birthday cake flavor if birthday cake can be any flavor,' they said in unison.

Another bout of fireworks went off, causing both of the brothers to flinch violently in surprise, Matthew dropping his beloved doughnuts(he had went through many betrayals through his life, but this had to be one of the worse), and Alfred bumping into the table.

The cake wobbled precariously, and Alfred's eyes widened in horror as it started to slide to the side. He immediately sprang up to catch it, but missed it by an inch, instead slipping and landing face first into the cake.

The room went dead silent, Alfred frozen in place with icing dripping down his face and bits of cake stuck in his hair, and completely mortified. He gave Matthew a guilty look, ready for a firm reprimand.

Instead, Matthew doubled over laughing, giggles making his shoulders heave. "Oh my god, I can't believe you actually did that," he wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye, "Where's my phone, I NEED to take a picture of this!"

"Oh no you don't!" Alfred lunges at him, tackling him to floor, and grabbed the nearest pile of cake and rubbing it over Matthew's face. Matthew sputtered, face red in anger and embarrassment. He flipped them over repeating what Alfred did to him, and soon they were tumbling around the kitchen floor, spreading cake and icing everywhere they landed.

After a few moments they gave up, panting on the ground, both covered head to toe in what used to be a birthday cake. They shared a look and immediately burst into giggles.

"Does this mean I automatically win the cake contest?" Matthew asked, after they calmed down. Alfred groaned and banged his head against the floor. "Ugh, I'll give you a handicap because I actually made a mistake," he said.

Matthew hummed, licking some of the icing off his fingers. "I'll give a few points for the taste. And presentation," he teased. He got up and brushed himself off, before holding out his hand to Alfred. "Anyways, I think it should just about be time, eh?"

Alfred took it gratefully, and was already tugging Matthew along behind him. "Seems like it! Let's hurry before we miss it!" He reopened the window, precariously balancing on the edge and climbed up to the roof, Matthew close behind. Okay they still had at least three hours to go, but now there was no way they would miss the sunrise.

Alfred handed him ear mufflers which he gladly took. He looked out into the darkness, watching the fireworks that continued to rage on. It really was beautiful.

Alfred nudged him, making Matthew look at him. "I got you something even though I know we promised not to get each other gifts." He said quickly before Matthew could protest. He reached behind his neck unlocking a chain with a stone and placed it into Matthew's hand.

He looked a little embarrassed, but started to explain. "I know it's kinda silly, but I read somewhere a cornelian stone represents family, so I just- you know what, the technicalities don't really matter." He curved Matthew's fingers over the gift. "But what matters is you always have the best day imaginable. Happy Birthday, Mattie."

Matthew's felt the familiar pinpricks of tears and he wiped them away hastily, laughing as he did. He met Alfred's smile with his own soft one.

“You know what? I think this might be the best birthday yet."

[driftward]

send DIFFERENT for a scene from my muse's past that they feel changed their outlook / personality / etc, for the better or worse (For Zoissette! WoL or RP or both!)

Ahhh! Appreciate your patience, finally getting around to my inbox. I do love the asks! And I like this one in particular.

For most ask memes/prompts, I use them to make a quick fanfic, but for this one, I won't, and I'll explain why. The answer to this one is kind of Zoissette's entire story as a Warrior of Light, and I do hope to fully write it out one day.

This has Shadowbringers spoilers past this point, for those sprouts still playing through MSQ. I'll put down a readmore.

So, the moment of Zoissette's history that changed her outlook forever, for the better, was a moment between the end of events at Mt. Gulg, but before the team goes down underwater to catch up with Emet-Selch.

It was a fulcrum moment for her. She knew, at this point, that she was dying. As an arcanist, Zoissette had been tracking her aether balance, and comparing it to the people at Journey's End, and she knows she is somewhere past a lethal dose. Ryne, the Oracle of Light, had barely managed to stabilise her. She is okay for now, but she does not know for how much longer, and when she goes, she will turn into a Lightwarden - and take the First with her, as well as causing a calamity on the Source.

At this point, she is perpetually exhausted. The Light has built up within her, and she is not handling it great. There is a constant thin white film over her vision, like she'd just dunked her head in milk. There is a constant high-pitch ringing in her ears, like the sounds you hear when you first arrive on the First. She is cold, as Light is static, and ice a close element to it. She is cold, perpetually cold, and nothing she does helps her feel warm. She is not as clever, not as smart as she should be, the Light slowing her thoughts. She keeps catching herself having been staring off into space for long enough that she is not sure exactly how much time has passed.

And she is a threat that must be dealt with. And the Exarch's plan, slightly modified, is probably the best bet for a positive outcome. Take all that aether she is carrying, and make sure that when she dies, make sure it is not on the First. Try to pass into the rift between worlds and never come out, maybe, or go back to the Source and Flow to the aetherial sea and hope it can cushion the sudden flow, something, anything, just make sure that when she goes, she does not go on the First.

She sets up to do that. Gets everything ready. Quietly, so nobody tries to stop her from doing what must be done.

Because after all, she is Ishgardian. Is this not a knight's greatest duty? To die for one is a nearly holy duty. To die for an entire world? Duty demands it.

And just as she is about to take that last step, she stops herself.

She loves this world. She loves everyone in this world, she loves everyone in both worlds, in all worlds. And everything in them. And her friends love her, in return. She is cared for. She matters. If her life is necessary to balance the scales, so be it, but she wants to at least make the choice to try to find another answer first. For herself. For her friends. For the world itself, because she wants to keep living in it, keep experiencing it, keep exploring it.

She cares enough to die for it. She cares enough to try to live for it.

And that moment shifts her perspective on her entire life. Up until now, she approached the duty of being Warrior of Light with a kind of kind hearted weariness. A duty that had to be done. She had no choice in the matter, because someone had to do it, and, well, she is someone. She has the Echo, she has the tools, she has the faith of her comrades, she has the skills and abilities to meet these challenges, and so there is no question. She has to do these things, and she does them, but it is a burden.

At the moment when she chooses to live, however, that singular choice recontextualises her entire life up until that moment. In fact, no, she did not have to do any of it. But she did.

Because of course she did.

Because that's who she is.

The world in which she had no choice in the matter, and the world in which she chose it at every opportunity, they're the same world. Because she would always make the choice she thought was right as best as she could, because she would always choose to defend, she would always choose life, she would always choose this path, of her own free will.

And that's huge for her. It turns her life from a burden to a joy. It turns the sorrow of hardship into something else, something which she can endure, which she willingly endures, knowing that even if she dies, even if she falters or falls, her actions might lead to hope for a better tomorrow. And even if it does not, she tried. She chose to take the risk, to make the attempt.

And so she does. She makes the choice to live. And the next day, she heads out with the Scions to the Tempest, to try to find that other answer, where she lives and the First is spared.

And I hope to capture this in my writings one day, in writing her story.

Thanks for the ask!

[rpdepartment]

ROLEPLAYING  GLOSSARY

new words might be hard to understand right away if you’re new... here’s some basic glossary to help getting started! some are more obvious than others, of course, but i know lots of people who might be confused, especially people who don’t speak english as their first language, so i figured it’s better to write down any “important” words

this list might be updated every now and then!!!

A

activity: the abount of time spent on a specific blog. it can be high, medium, low, or even lead to hiatus or semi-hiatus

affiliates: blog canons who tend to be tied together

archived: an archived blog is what remains of a blog no longer used, but that the player prefers not to delete. The blog might’ve been remade, so always check!

AU: alternate universe, when the story setting changes completely. 

C

canon-divergent: a blog that follows canon only to a certain extent, making significant enough changes to distance itself from the original version of the character

crack: silly posts, more often than not out of character, meta and meant to be jokes. crack intreactions are generally considered non-canon for the blog

D

dash commentary: in-character comments about what’s currently happening on dash, like other characters’ thread or replies to asks

DNI: do not interact; a list of people or blogs you don’t want to interact with, for a reason or another

double: people who play as the same character

E

event: a roleplay event is, for lack of better terms, an event that lasts for a generally specified amount of time, that involves a handful of characters to the whole dash. examples of events could be working together to save someone from another muse, or simply partecipating to a holiday ball

exclusive: a blog who doesn’t roleplay or ship with doubles of certain muses, since they already have mains who play them.

F

FC: faceclaim, the face used to represend a character, usually OCs

G

godmodding: any form of cheating to win an argument or a fight, usually involving metagaming or ignoring the partner’s actions to succeed. an example of godmodding could be the good ol’ “it’s an hologram” thread

H

hard block: blocking someone permanently

hiatus: a blog on hiatus means that the player isn’t going to be around for a long amount of time, generally unspecified

HUB: when someone makes secondary blogs to roleplay with, they usually keep their primary blog (the one they use to follow others) as a HUB where they can redirect others to all their other blogs

I

IC: in character; what your character says

icon: small images used to represend your characters’ expressions

interest checker: a post, or a google sheet, people ask to like, comment or fill up to see if they’re interested interacting with a certain character or blog. 

M

magic anon: anons of bygone eras, who cast “spells” on muses in their askbox for a specified amount of time. for example, a magic anon could “transform” your character into a cat for a week, and expects you to roleplay the situation accordingly

main: a RP partner with who the player interacts with more often; some mains can be or become exclusives

meta: metagaming, playing in character using knowledge the characters themselves don’t know, but the player do. it’s the RP equivalent of knowing how to deal with a boss in a game because you watched a walkthrough, making your character break the fourth wall and godmod to win

moved: a blog that was remade, usually either reusing the same URL or keeping a post with a link to the remade blog, leaving behind an archived blog

muse: the character you play as

musing: sentences, prose or lyrics, often written in stylistic manners, that represent the muse’s feelings, thoughts, relationships and history ( you can find a lot of them here )

mun: the player. this is you!!!

mutual: someone you follow, and who follows you back. a lot of blog are mutuals-only, meaning they’ll roleplay only with people they follow and who follows them back

O

OOC: out of character; when the mun talks. the opposite of IC

P

para/multipara: long threads, written in paragraphs

permanent starter call: generally speaking, permanent starter calls are posts the mun asks others to like or comment to make sure they’re “allowed” to send asks, interact, dashcomment or mention in other threads

promo: a post where the players promote their blog and their character, where they often give an idea of who the character they play as is, very basic rules and links to rules and about pages. please reblog those if you want to interact with them

prompt: also called ask memes or sentence starters, posts with a bunch of pre-made sentences used to break the ice and send as asks. they can be both in character and out of character ( you can find a lot of them here )

R

reblog karma: when someone reblogs a prompt, it’s common courtesy to send them something before reblogging the same prompt, or at least wait a few minutes and then reblog from the source

RP: roleplay

RPC: roleplay community, the “main” fandom you’re roleplaying with

rules password: a word or sentence left in the rules page of a blog, meant to be sent to prove the mun you read their rules. while the trend died down and even those who leave passwords generally agree that it isn’t something you’re forced to send, a lot of people at least notify their partner that they read their rules

S

semi-hiatus: a blog on hiatus means that the player isn’t going to be around very often for a long amount of time, generally unspecified

selectivity: depending on a mun’s selectivity, it means how open they are to play with new people, or non-mutuals. non-selective blogs are open to anyone to join, semi-selective blogs are much more reserved, being much more open to mutuals and people you know, while selective blogs are more often than not mutuals only and tend to have mains or even exclusive partners. someone being selective doesn’t mean they will never roleplay with you, and someone who’s non-selective isn’t automatically better than others. decide how selective you are with your blog based on nothing but your own comfort

softblock: blocking and unblocking someone in your follower list, not blocking them completely but still making sure they don’t follow you . A lot of mutuals-only blogs prefer to softblock people they don’t follow anymore

starter: the first post in a thread

starter call: a post muns ask others to generally like or comment if they want a starter for their muse. they usually have a specified limit

T

tag dump: the list of tags the mun uses in their blog, often to help people finding specific kind of threads (like ships and crack), or to make sure tumblr saves the most elaborate ones expect tumblr to not save them and remake the tag dump a few times

thread: the interactions between two (or more) muses

V

VC: voiceclaim, the voice used to represend a character

[writtenjewels]

Night Watch part 2

Part One

When Wilson told him there would be someone studying during the night shift, Jason pictured some kid. He was caught off-guard by the presence of a full-grown man. He had looked up on Jason's approach. Jason's heart gave a little skip in his chest. He was surprised, that was all. Sure, the guy had a fine square jawline and he had dark eyes pretty enough to be jewels, but so what?

“Well,” Jason spoke up once Wilson left them alone. “Good night.” He turned and made it a few paces before Salim called him back.

“I thought we could talk,” Salim suggested. “We'll be seeing a lot of each other, after all.”

There were no set rules against it. Clearly Wilson had a friendly relationship with the guy. Jason never had a problem with chatting in his other jobs. Still, the idea of talking to Salim made him squirm a little. Wasn't this guy here to study? Besides, it was Jason's first night, and he should acquaint himself with the job rather than waste time.

“I got work,” he grunted. He tugged the brim of his hat down over his eyes and walked off. This time Salim didn't stop him.

It took Jason walking half the perimeter of the building before he shook off the weird nerves. He was going to make a pretty shit watchman if his first encounter with a stranger unsettled him this much. He continued his circuit, mentally talking himself out of his funk. The only thing to do was talk to Salim and settle the awkwardness. The guy was still at the table, reading and taking notes.

“Hey,” Jason greeted. Salim looked up and gave him a smile. His whole face seemed to warm up from the expression. “Uh.” Jason cleared his throat and shook his head to clear it. “I'm Jason,” he introduced.

“I remember,” Salim assured him, looking amused. “Wilson introduced us about half an hour ago.”

“You don't gotta be a smart-ass,” Jason complained with a scowl.

“My apologies. It's a pleasure meeting you, Jason. My name's Salim.” He held out his hand and Jason shook it. Jason couldn't help noticing the strong, calloused grip. He let the hand drop and fidgeted with his cap.

“So what are you studyin'?” Jason asked.

“Ancient history, culture, music.” Salim's face grew brighter as he spoke. “I tried to teach my son that knowledge is never a waste of time. There is always something to learn, some way you can understand the world around you.” Jason smiled with him. The guy's enthusiasm was infectious.

“I'd better leave you to it, then.”

“You don't have to. That is,” Salim clarified, “I would be interested in hearing your thoughts.”

“I donno about that.” Jason fidgeted with his cap again. “I get all the history I need from cable TV.” Salim gave him a disgusted look and snorted.

“Typical.” Jason fought the amused smile and failed. Salim caught it, his face going wide. “Oh, you were messing with me.”

“All those books and you're still pretty ignorant,” Jason teased. The guy teased him first, so he figured a turn-around was deserved. “This is why I prefer the movie,” Jason added, and felt a little pleased with himself that he made Salim laugh.

“On second thought,” Salim mused, eyes sparkling, “maybe it is better for you 'leave me to it.' I'm finding it hard to focus.”

“You started it,” Jason reminded him, though amiably stepped back to give Salim space.

That wasn't so bad. Once he broke the ice, it was easy talking to Salim. There was something really charming about the guy. Night watch might not be too bad with him around.

[asystolenheart]

🫀‼️DAMINIKA WEEK PROMPT VOTING WILL BEGIN TOMORROW‼️🫀

Everyone who participated in Flatline Week 2024 was messaged to submit prompt ideas for Daminika Week, now everyone who participated will be able to vote for 12 prompts they want to follow for Daminika Week !! The following are all the prompt ideas submitted, we wanted to give those who are voting time to decide what they will vote for, voting begins at the end of this timer.

Reunion -

Prom / School Dance -

Band AU -

Painter x Muse -

Comfort -

Beach Day / Beach -

Goodbyes -

Alternative Styles (emo, grunge, goth, v-kei / visual kei) -

Cartoon -

Historical Era (pick your favorite period in history and draw damian and nika in it) -

Funko Pop -

Cottage Core -

Video Game -

Gala / Formal -

Festival / Parade -

Manga Shopping -

My Chemical Romance -

Traditional Clothing -

Selfies - Amusement Park -

K-Pop -

Meeting the Family -

Training -

Pets / Animals -

Cosplay or Halloween Costume -

Vocaloid -

Genderbend / Gender Swap, or GL (Girl's Love) / BL (Boy's Love) -

Casual / Civilian -

Batmobile Joyride -

Horror Movie -

Neopets -

Role Reversal -

Royalty x Pirate -

Angel x Demon -

Dinner with the Al Ghul's -

JonJay Double Date -

First Date / Day Out -

Celebrity x Singer -

Vampire x Hunter -

Outfit Swap / Costume Swap -

Snow Day -

Stargazing -

Mythology -

Sharing Slushies (or ICEEs or Slurpies works too) -

Pocky Challenge -

Trick or Treat -

Ice Skating -

Cooking / Baking -

Dictionary (find a word and its meaning and make content of Damian and Nika based on that) -

Music (make content based on lyrics that remind you of Damian and Nika) -

Dancing -

Picnic -

Patrol Night / Fighting Together -

Concert -

Stolen Heart -

Texting each other -

Drawing (Damian and Nika drawing each other or together) -

Indie Horror Game -

Meister and Weapon (Soul Eater) -

In Every Universe (soulmates) -

Pining -

Phone Call -

Sunset -

Team Up With Other Heroes -

Spending Holidays Together -

In Beast World -

Trying each others traditional food -

Styling each others clothes -

Matching Outfits -

Twitter Post's -

Fursona -

My Little Pony / Pony Design -

Panel Redraw -

Time Loop AU (Nika and Damian stuck in a time-loop reliving the same day over and over again) -

Royalty AU

School AU / High School AU / Academic Rivalry -

Detective AU / Damian Vane x Nika Noir -

Paranormal AU -

Fairy Tale AU -

Damian's Shoujo Manga AU -

Shoujo Manga AU -

Medieval AU -

Body Swap AU -

Bodyguard AU -

Vampire AU -

Karaoke Night -

Flowers or Flower Picking -

Zoo Visit -

League of Assassins -

Future Self -

Long Distance -

Sanrio -

Monster High -

!!Selecting more than 12 prompts on the voting form will result in an error and you will not be able to submit your vote!!

These are all fan submitted prompts and we thank everyone who took the time and submitted prompt ideas <3

-Flatline Week Team

[deathbydarkelves]

I went to the bookstore yesterday and spent some time picking out semi-random fantasy books to read their first few lines or pages. And I was baffled by how few attempted to describe a place. Any specific place. So many started with characters talking in a blank white room, or characters musing about their own backstories in a similarly blank white room.

These weren’t your dime-a-dozen “romantasy” books, I was actually looking for something to seriously read. It’s been sad ages since I found a fantasy book that really truly sucked me in and teleported me someplace else.

No, these were books describing themselves as adventure stories. Or just a story which heavily involved its world. And yet maybe two of the dozen or more books I looked at actually tried to describe a place.

I described this experience to a friend and he said it may be a side effect of fantasy becoming a more popular genre recently. More books means there’ll be more shitty books. Fine, that makes sense. But I just… I can’t fathom approaching a fantasy story with the mindset that the world and place is secondary. Fantasy is about being someplace else. And these are pieces of original fiction. The authors had to come up with names and borders and landmarks. And then they don’t want to explore any of it? They don’t want to describe in loving prose how the river just paces from the town's stockade flows from the western mountains and glints gold under the rising autumn sun? I guess not, because they just open with dialogue and two characters existing… somewhere, in a blank room, and halfway through the first conversation the narrator gets distracted and starts explaining the last hundred years of history. Which have no direct relation to whatever is supposed to be happening.

The books I read and loved as a kid — Deltora Quest, The Inheritance Cycle, How to Train Your Dragon — those all took time to describe their worlds and place me and the characters within them. That’s what fantasy is. Hell that’s what WRITING is.

You don’t need a degree in geography and meteorology and archaeology and linguistics to build your world. You don’t even necessarily need to write the past hundred years of history. I respect the desire to write a character-centric story. But for fuck’s sake, put us somewhere.

Genuinely I cannot imagine caring so little about your characters and your readers that you can’t be bothered to put soft, rain-damp soil under their feet. Or hard-packed dirt in the market square marked with hoof prints. Or snow crusted over from yesterday’s warmth.

The Lord of the Rings wasn’t and isn’t such a big deal just because it was set in a fantasy land with elves and dwarves. It’s because there were incomprehensible amounts of love and care put into the world, and then into describing it. It's a story not just about its characters but about its world. Even just watching the movies you can see how much love was put into the world and how badly the creators wanted to show it to us. Earthsea and, stepping away from books, Critical Role are so good because there was love put into their worlds, and then the creators did everything in their power to show us those worlds. Have you listened to some of Mercer's environmental descriptions?

It’s not enough to come up with place names and list them off when relevant (or when they’re not). It’s the difference between reading about another country in a tourism book and actually going there.

Why bother writing someplace else if you don’t at least attempt to take us there?

It’s a goddamn shame. All this time I've been book-less, I thought my standards were just unnecessarily high and that I was misremembering how good the books of my childhood were. But no. No I think there actually is an issue where people think fantasy is just the presence of elves and wizards and maybe dwarves or dragons. From the fucking start fantasy has been about other worlds. You don’t have to try and write the next Lord of the Rings or A Song of Ice and Fire but put some damn love into your work. Show your characters and your readers some damn love and put them somewhere.

Put us in a low-ceilinged tavern where shadows cling to the corners as thick as cobwebs. Describe the bounty hunter not just by her outfit, but by the way the fog is still clinging to her fur mantle as dew as she walks inside.

If you want to get better at writing it’s best to read, but at LEAST watch The Fellowship of the Ring or play Skyrim or something. Take a walk in your closest nature reserve/park. Put yourself somewhere else. Take in the sunlight filtering dappled through the whispering leaves, feel the earth under your feet and the air in your throat and lungs. Look up and watch wispy clouds float across the sky through a gap in the trees, birds darting from branch to branch below them. Stay there until that sweetens into an ache in your chest as you realize you will never bring anyone else into this exact place and moment. And then go home, open your manuscript, and try your absolute damnedest to do it anyway.

[literarybaby]

challengers inspired rp plots!

hi everyone! i am not sure if i am alone in this but i have been having deep, deep challengers brainrot. so i thought i would take the opportunity to share some tennis-themed/challengers-inspired plot bunnies with you. with a couple of these, i’ve had the absolute pleasure of playing out or at least, brainstorming with some of my current writing partners.

all titles are from the soundtrack - ty trent r & divider is by @cafekitsune

some of these have more darker and mature themes, but can be adapted to work at any level. all of these can be adapted to work with any pairing as well. and probably sport — if you squint. 

if you’re interested, feel free to reach out about any of these if you'd like to write together.

also feel free to take them and make them your own! enjoy!

𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘

muse a is a young rising star in tennis (think tashi in the first half of the movie). they are on everyone’s radar as the one to go down in history and join the ranks of the past greats. adidas already has them in a campaign. and soon, they’re probably going to turn their whole family into millionaires. however, during a game, they suffer a traumatic and freak injury which looks like it will derail their entire career. muse a is devastated as everything they’ve ever wanted or worked for will come to an end. enter muse b — an older, successful surgeon — who decides to help a depressed and lost muse a. fixing broken body parts is part of their job and they are able to do so easily. even kinder, they support muse a through their recovery and physical therapy. unbeknownst to muse a and everyone in their lives, muse b has been grooming them — giving them treatment beyond what a medical professional should offer. this leads to muse a entering into a relationship with muse b where the power dynamic is totally whack. with muse a recovering and being back on their game, they feel they totally owe it all to muse b’s god hands and want to pay them back with any means necessary. 

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 / 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

muse a and muse b are the perfect tennis doubles tennis partners. so much so, they have corny nicknames like fire and ice. they are best friends, practice partners, and have long shared history. optional: muse a can be more a technically perfect player and muse b is pure, raw talent. unbeknownst to muse b, muse a has been hopelessly in love with them the entire time but is in the closet/in denial. when muse b starts to cluelessly date someone (optional: muse c if you want mumu), muse a is jealous and their friendship slowly starts to deteriorate with muse b frustrated and confused why this is happening. skip a few years, muse a and muse b find themselves on opposite sides of the net as the biggest rivals in tennis. years of resentment, avoidance, and pressure have culminated in this moment. should they repair their relationship? will they ever talk about it? maybe there’s still a chance or will someone end up hurt again?

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐗 𝟏𝟎

muse a is an older and seasoned tennis veteran. truthfully, they aren’t as good as they used to be and are on the verge of retirement. they decide that this tournament(possibly set at wimbledon?)will be their last and they’ll retire after regardless of the outcome. but during, they meet the young muse b — someone spunky and maybe they have a bad temper like john mcenroe — but they’re not like anyone else muse a has ever met. they challenge them. they intrigue them. however, this romance comes at the worst time as muse b desperately wants to win the tournament and this is a bit of a distraction. so should muse a and muse b embrace the distraction and get caught up in the whirlwind of things, despite knowing love means absolutely nothing in tennis. 

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑

muse a is a down-on-their-luck tennis player. they’re definitely not a ranked player or really famous at all, but this is all they know. they’re still good, and believe they have in them to win a grand slam or a major tournament, despite their age and more importantly, their financial situation. sometimes they are sleeping in their car if they can’t afford a motel on tour, but sometimes, they get even more desperate — which is how they found muse b, on tinder, swiping right on literally everyone until they get a match. muse b thinks they’re going on a date with a professional athlete but little do they know, muse a is flat broke and is only with them for a hot meal and a warm bed. should muse b figure this out? or maybe as they go on the date, both muses feel a connection — does that mean muse a will come clean with their intentions? or will muse b be saddled with supporting muse a’s broke ass? 

𝐋’𝐎𝐄𝐔𝐅

muse a is a young and naive tennis player from a small town/country. they come from a nice, wholesome family. being a professional athlete was sort of by chance too, so they have absolutely know idea how to navigate the pressurized world of fame and fortune. fortunatelyor unfortunately, they get help from muse b — a cut-throat, smart, and cunning sports agent. muse b is able to set muse a up with an fancy apartment, good sponsorship deals, hefty contracts, and soon become the voice of reason for muse a. muse b is determined to guide muse a to the big star lights and away from their country mouse past. it gets to the point where muse a can’t do anything without muse b. will muse a ever get away from muse b? or will muse b abuse their power? could involve isolating them from their family, controlling their spending, and even baby-trapping them.

𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐑

muse a is retired professional tennis player and decides become a instructor at a fancy, schmancy country club. they decided to take this job not because for the love of the sport, but to further themselves as the club is crawling with unsuspecting rich people with good connections just waiting to be made. muse a meets muse b, a naive, rich kid who takes tennis lessons. they get on really well and decide to bring muse a to meet their family. through a series of carefully crafted lies, muse a and b get closer and closer until they’re in a relationship. muse b starts asking their parents to get muse a better job, better clothes, and ultimately, a better life. but what happens when someone or something from muse a’s past comes rearing its ugly head and threatens to expose and break this carefully plotted dream life? does muse a confess to muse b, or does muse b dump them? or is muse a crazy enough to keep lying to keep muse b and their perfect new life theirs for good?

"𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖"

muse a is a professional tennis player who seems like they have the perfect life. they’re winning, rich, have a partner who is possibly their coach, and even a child. little does everyone know, it’s not all roses on the inside. their partner is cheating on them and it’s really throwing off all the other parts of their life — especially their game. so they decide to cheat too, with muse b — someone who isn’t part of this crazy tennis world. immediately, it’s steamy and exciting having an affair. it really jumpstarts muse a’s attitude and they start winning again. when muse a’s partner (could even be a muse c) finds out, they could hardly care less and is happy that something is finally getting muse a motivated again. but muse b isn’t satisfied with just being a secret, not when they play such a pivotal role in muse a’s life. maybe they decide to expose muse a and their partner? or maybe they threaten to leave? or maybe they try to navigate this as a threesome?

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐓

muse a is a successful, professional tennis player. they’re winning tournaments. they’re living their best life on the ATP/WTA tour. being on the road is great but is a bit lonely sometimes despite all the cool sponsorship parties and galas. dating is too hard too, as it’s difficult to stay connected within all these time zones and from all these far away places. instead, they use an expensive celebrity escort service and meet muse b. muse b can quell the sting of loneliness on the road and it’s low commitment — only calling them up when they’re in town. however, this last time leads to muse b getting pregnant accidentally. now muse a has to decide if they want to step up to the plate and be a parent, and if they do, how do they explain how they met their partner to the press?bonus points ifmuse bhas slept with other tennis players and their services are not a well-kept secret.