#Berry banter - muse talk

[ichiigotsukii]

Nothing has happened yet. Absolutely nothing. But Raoul feels a disturbance (one solely of his own making and in his own head) and he's......mad.

Luc is tired and demands a vacation from dealing with this hothead. Very...tired.

[unholy-fabray]

Thank you @kurtsascot for the tag!! 🫶

I usually post art, but I don't currently having any fan art WIPs to show, so I'm gonna post a snippet of a Faberry one-shot I've been working on instead :]

Tagging: @unholybinchicken @paperstomach I think everyone else I would tag has already been tagged, so I'm leaving it open to anyone else who sees this and wants to share! 💖 Let me see your creations!!

Premise: Season 4 AU in which Quinn actually uses her damn metro pass to visit Rachel in NYC! AKA Quinn goes to visit Rachel during a 3-day weekend and drunken karaoke (and kisses) ensue.

On more than one occasion, Quinn had found herself on the phone with Rachel into the small hours of the morning, musing about life, music, religion, veganism, fourth-wave feminism, and the merits of Maya Angelou and Mary Oliver. It had been a long time since Quinn felt like she could ramble about those “deep” topics with someone else; the townsfolk of Lima, Ohio didn’t tend to be particularly deep thinkers, she muses. The blonde relishes the phone calls in which her and Rachel jump down the rabbit hole of conversation. The banter flowed easily between them - only occasionally slipping into the scathing sarcasm of their high school years - and Quinn could appreciate Rachel's penchant for dramatically rehashing the events of her days spent at NYADA. Sometimes, after they hung up and Quinn was bedding down for the night, the blonde would be struck by the realization that this was Rachel Berry that she was talking to and enjoying the company of, sharing sincere thoughts and earnest opinions with; it's a notion she would have scoffed at even two years prior. The absurdity of this fact lessens with every passing day and every long-winded phone call.

Quinn snaps the latches of the suitcase closed and straightens up with a satisfied sigh. She whips out her phone to shoot Rachel a quick update. Done with packing, finally. I’ll be heading your way in approximately two hours. You better not be planning any surprise parties. YAY!! surprise parties? me? you must have me confused with someone else ;) be safe see you soon!! [Attached is a picture. Rachel is in the kitchen of her and Kurt’s Bushwick apartment, beaming at the camera. Her hair is in a messy bun, make-up half done, and she’s wearing a NYADA sweatshirt. It looks like she's throwing ingredients into a bowl, but it's hard to tell exactly what they are. Quinn can make out Kurt in the background, fashion magazine perched in hit lap, as he eyes Rachel taking the photo with an amused raise of his eyebrow.] Quinn can imagine her rushing to make breakfast before setting off for rehearsals, perpetually on the verge of running late. The thought has her release a quiet puff of laughter and she shakes her head.

[whatgaviiformes]

I continued it. Original Post

The room behind the door is bleak, entirely too muted and too quiet for the spitfire of sea and light normally resting within. He raps on the door one more time after opening it, just in case Gordon couldn’t hear, and the mass on the bed shifts under the blankets with a hiss.

Virgil winces. He nudges the door the rest of the way open and slides the food tray on the table beside the bed. The steam from the warm soup dances up towards the ceiling. Gordon’s appetite might be just fine, but Virgil figured it was better to go with safe options. It’s soup, saltines, and water. The lack of movement despite the aroma of chicken broth that fills the room gives him his answer.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Virgil asks.

He finds a spot to sit on the bed where Gordon’s feet are. As much as he wants to clasp his shoulder or rub his back and comfort through the throes of pain, when Gordon’s at his worst, it’s his ankle that’s furthest from the agony emanating through his nervous system.

“No.”

“Do you want me to talk, then?” Virgil offers. “I can if you want. Whatever you need.” The form trembles, but eventually Gordon pushes back the comforter just far enough past his face for Virgil to catch a glimpse of the muddled, honey-brown of his eyes.

He takes the curious gaze as permission to launch into whatever his mind conjures, knowing that his own interests will be enough of a distraction without reminding Gordon of what, at the moment, he can’t pursue outside the four walls of his bedroom. Virgil stays clear of the weather and the ocean and the pool, and instead rambles about the new song his favorite pianist has just released, an artist he’s following that’s been working with 3D sculptures made from scraps found in the trash mines, and his next character idea for the tabletop game John runs for the family.

Virgil settles himself more comfortably at the foot of Gordon’s bed as he talks. He’s going for casual ease, filling the silence with his own swirl of thoughts to replace what normally was Gordon’s chaotic energy and Gordon’s constant stream of consciousness. He doesn’t even know if Gordon’s really listening; even if only by half it’s something, but he’s been quiet.

Midway through his musings about the scale of acceptable types of berries, he feels the muscle under his hand tighten. Virgil sympathetically rubs circles into Gordon’s calf while he rides the wave. It sucks. It sucks more for Gordon, there’s no doubt, but there’s a special kind of helplessness and misery Virgil feels when his siblings are suffering and he can’t do anything about it.

It’s an instinct to hold his breath while he counts out the duration of the spasm.

Eventually the tension alleviates, and Virgil hops up to quickly scour the closet in Gordon’s connecting bathroom for a rag to wet. He warns him a few seconds before he touches his face since his eyes are scrunched shut, but gently Virgil dabs at the sweat on his forehead, cooling him down from the exertion of fighting through the tremors.

Gordon sighs deeply, watching him and tracking him through a glazed expression.

“-rzy,” Gordon tells him.  

“Hm?”

“Yer crazy,” Gordon clarifies, staggering through the words, “if you think blackberries are more acceptable than blueberries.”

“Strawberries are top tier. We can agree on that though?”

“Only with chocolate.”

It’s a non-argument, banter that’s only a debate on principle because, in truth, Virgil has no hard opinions on fruit and actually much prefers them mixed into a smoothie anyway. But he scrunches up his nose for effect.

“What’s better than strawberries?” he challenges, pulling the cloth away.

“Grapes.”

“Those are not berries.”

“They are botanically.”

“Well, botanically, you shouldn’t be ranking fruit based on the addition of chocolate.”

“False. Technically the cacao pod is a fruit too.”

“Hm, since we are on the subject,” Virgil prods, diverting the conversation back to more important matters, “you should try to eat.” He takes the package of the saltine crackers and rips the sleeve open, placing it on top of Gordon’s comforter where he can reach easily.

One, two are eaten, a third nibbled on.

“OK.”

Virgil lifts an eyebrow. “Ok?”

“Yeah, ok,” Gordon confirms. “Talk for real.”

“We got your scans back.” It had wrecked Virgil trying to get them; whatever agony Gordon felt had hit suddenly during his morning exercises. He remembered Gordon clutching at him: he’d been damp with chlorinated water, stuck in the shallow end, and any movement to get him to the infirmary shattered through him. The scanner had pinpointed his back, but it wasn’t strong enough to isolate the cause. He knew now. “You popped a screw.”

Gordon sucks in a breath but manages to smile. There’s no joy behind it. “I bet Alan loved that.”

“Huh?”

“You tell him I had a screw loose?”

“Oh. Oh no. Not at all. He’s worried, but no Alan doesn’t know anything yet. Yours to tell.”

Gordon hums, then says, “Such a little thing. It feels like it’s everywhere. Can you -uh- show me?”

Virgil’s reluctant, but carefully, he ghosts a fingertip in a circle along the ridge of Gordon’s spine where their scans showed the shifting pieces of metal. He doesn’t touch exactly where it is, trying as much as he can to avoid aggravating the injury further. It needs surgery. Gordon knows something like that needs surgery, which means hospitals and all the memories and terrors that come with it.

Virgil retracts his hand, but Gordon reaches for it. “You’ll be taking me.”

It’s not presented as a question. Virgil nods anyway.

[coexiising]

art deco - anakin skywalker

SUMMARY ◆ You’ve been Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan for almost five years now, recieving training from one of the most brilliant Jedi Knights you have ever met. In an attempt to further your training, you and your Master take a trip to Naboo, however, it is soon revealed that your feelings will get in the way. 

WARNING(S) ◆ Smut, lowkey slow burn, anakin being hot but what’s new, dirty talk, authority kink, virginity kink, bye

WORDS ◆ 7.8k and i regret nothing

NOTE ◆ I wrote this during heartbreak so this is me totally projecting

»»————-　✼　————-««

THERE WAS SOMETHING INCREASINGLY PLEASANT ABOUT BEING ON NABOO. You were quick to realize that the planet’s beauty that was always spoken about was not just a thing of rumors, and that, in fact, the place was even more beautiful than you could possibly imagine. The way that every tree hung perfectly, with it’s branches begging to be touched by a passerby, and how every single animal that grazed along it’s pastures had a sense of calm that you had never felt in all your years of living in the galaxy.

The villa along the large lake a few miles away from the main city was a thing of dreamlike structures. It’s columns held intricate pieces of wood and stone and the balconies that overlooked both water and flower fields were more welcoming than you could ever imagine. A own little touch of paradise, and you would be staying here for only a week.

The war, which you had been flung into only a few years into your training, was going on longer than anyone anticipated. The separatists were not letting up on their preposition to become a sovereign state, and the deaths of thousands mass produced clones has become a daily thing. It took a great toll on everyone involved, and more specifically the Padawan’s like yourself that were not at all prepared for this type of environment for your training. When you were just a youngling, all you expected was to go on lots of missions with your Master that would be Jedi affairs, not Republic ones. In a way, you felt as if you were being robbed of something that you weren’t quite sure how to pinpoint, an innocence in a way.

This was the Council’s way of trying to make it up to you. You knew that it wasn’t supposed to actually be a vacation, no, you were meant to keep up with your training, just in a different environment that would make you more akin with the Force. And that place was Naboo, tranquility in the form of a planet.

“I can feel your apprehension,” Your Master told you, walking in front of you up the stone stairs that came up to the front door of the place you would be staying in with him. Behind you was a ship, no one inside to accompany the two of you. To do this right, as the Council said, you were not to be distracted by anyone else, no clones, no droids, no nothing.

If only they knew that it didn’t matter if there was no one other than your Master to engage with, because Anakin Skywalker, alone, was able to distract you for hours on end if you really put your mind to it. Anakin and you were very similar in age, early adult years, and yet he had the role of Master and you were still just a Padawan. You knew that it was because of his efforts during the Battle of Geonosis at the very beginning of the war, and that alone was enough to grant him the title of Jedi Knight, but it still was awkward at points when he talked down on you, because really, he had only two years more experience in life than you did.

You did what you were told. You always did. As a youngling you had a temper, a rebellious streak that for a time was almost concerning for the Council and the Master’s that taught you. And yet, here you were, a respectful young Jedi. Over the years you have grown, probably more than any other youngling that the Order has ever seen. It was like overnight somehow you turned from a child to a young woman, and you were adamant about completing your studies so that you could become a Jedi Knight. Those plans, however, got incredibly tainted with the war, and then with the introduction of you and your Master. It was a rather uncalled for pairing. You were hoping for someone like Master Yoda to take you as his Padawan or even for master Plo Koon, yet it was wildly noted that you were picked by Anakin Skywalker yourself. A rather odd thing and he still hasn’t told you completely why.

Anakin was not entirely a man of secrets. You could ask him things about almost anything and he would tell you. The only thing that he kept guarded in the deepest parts of his mind was things of his past, and his reasoning behind making such vast decisions like taking on a Padawan during a large civil war. But you and Anakin still managed to be very close, the Force growing strong between both of you as if it too agreed in your compatibility.

You shook your head, immediately refuting his accusations. “No, it’s not apprehension,” you told him, eyes coming up to meet the back of his head since he wasn’t looking at you. “Just concern, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Your Master questioned. The second that his foot came up to the top of the stairs, his figure turned around and faced you, those bold, blue eyes of his racing to meet your own. “If you have any doubts about anything, tell me, I am your Master after all.”

That’s exactly that problem, you thought to yourself, making sure that your mental shields were up to guard it. That was the last thing that you needed, for him to know the things that you wished to push down into the darkest depths of your mind. That was the Jedi way, after all, keep all those emotions that were considered dangerous and a path to the dark side in a little cage in your mind and throw away the key. The thought of simply just being with him here alone made your brain almost electrify yourself, thinking about all the possibilities of slipping up and revealing all your emotions towards your Master directly to him. It was something to fear, and yet you were not allowed to fear.

You offered him the fakest smile that you could muster, saying, “Yes, Master, I’m alright. Let’s just get inside, it’s almost dark.” The setting sun was directly to your back, illuminating him in front of you like he was something to be marvelled at. And to your defense, Anakin Skywalker was definitely something to be marvelled at. His chiseled cheeks only looked more distinguished in the golden light, along with his dark brown hair that seemed to catch it just right. It made you feel weak in the knees, these thoughts of him, and you knew it was wrong to think of him in such ways - but you just couldn’t stop. Every time you tried to vilify him in your mind, another reason why you should love popped right back up in its place. It was a deadly cycle that you have shamelessly fallen victim to, and there was nothing that you could do to stop it or further this attraction. It was forbidden.

The moment that you stepped into the building, a sigh left your lips, eyes taking in all your surroundings. It was marvellous. There were marbled stone floors that were covered in rugs in some places, plush couches in the middle of the room, and off to the side were the counters of the kitchen, all looking as if no one had ever stepped foot in here. Suddenly you felt out of place here, like you weren’t good enough to live in such a lavish way. After all, your temple rooms were nothing compared to this. They were bland, sandy and brown colors everywhere. Only a dresser with a small mirror and a bed were in it. Yet here, there were different hues of reds, greens, and blues, tables and chairs and fancy lamps, and plants that added almost another dimension to the already breathtaking house.

“It’s - It’s,” You started, not able to find the correct words for what you were trying to say.

Luckily, Anakin finished your sentence, “Breathtaking. It’s breathtaking.”

You turned to look back at him, taking in his features for just a moment more.

Breathtaking, you thought to yourself. Yes, everything here is just breathtaking.

-

The soft silks of your bed sheets rolled between your fingers, tempting you to lay into bed and never get back up. How on Earth were you supposed to keep training when you were living like this? You could imagine yourself, not as a Jedi but as a normal person, eating wild berries as you sat on your bed near the balcony, looking towards the horizon and not having one single worry in that head of yours. It was tantalizing, the perfect picture in your mind of what you wished to be.

“You think too loud.”

You spun around to only be met with your Master, who was leaning against your doorframe effortlessly. A heat rose up to your cheeks, realizing that you hadn’t been taking the proper precautions of keeping those thoughts only to yourself. They were just little flings of ideas, nothing too brash that could get you into any trouble. “Sorry, Master, I shouldn’t have been thinking of slacking off when we have work to do in the coming days.”

A chuckle escaped his lips from deep within his chest. “It’s okay, Y/N, really, if I am being honest, I was thinking the same not too long ago.”

That was shocking news to you. You always thought that Anakin always wanted to be on the run, as if this trip that he had to take with you was annoying to him because he had to take time away from the front lines of the war. But it also made sense, even victorious war generals get tired sooner or later. Perhaps you didn’t know him as much as you thought that you did. This trip wasn’t just for you, it was for the both of you. It was good to go back to basics, remember the first feelings of the force and go from there.

“And here I was thinking that you didn’t want to be here,” You mused.

Your Master laughed at your jest. “No, quite the opposite. It’ll be nice to take a step back from life for a little bit and get some much needed rest.”

“I didn’t know that General Skywalker knew what rest meant,” You continued on your playful banter.

“I don’t,” He chuckled. “Maybe you can teach me?”

Now that sends you through a loop. You knew that he was probably just playing around with you, since you were teasing him a little bit. But that sentence was enough for that place in your mind to unlock all the fantasies you had in your head about him, the ones that you only dared touch when you knew you were alone and it was the dead of night so no was there to read them. You held yourself back from becoming flustered, knowing the moment you showed any signs of it that he would know that something was up. Instead you simply nodded your head, taking your eyes off of him to the balcony that was open to your room, seeing the way that the moonlight illuminated the waves of the water. “Perhaps after training tomorrow, we could go by the water?” You asked him.

“Sure thing,” Anakin said, turning on his heel and making his way out of your room. You took a sigh of relief at his absence, not because you wanted him gone, but because seeing him in such a leisurely setting was starting to get to your head. That dizzy feeling that got to your head every time you looked at him for too long started to subside, and you were left with only your thoughts as you put away some robes you packed for the stay.

The moment that your head hit the soft, plush pillow of your large bed, you were completely enveloped by sleep. In your dreams you only saw you and Anakin, happy and smiling in the gracious flower fields of Naboo, preparing meals together half dressed in the kitchen, and falling asleep in each other's arms. It was so real and lifelike that when you woke up in the morning, you felt as if you had awoken from an alternate universe.

-

Anakin didn’t know what he was doing.

Of course he was excited to be able to take a break from the long, withheld war between the Republic and the Separatists, but at the same time he knew that being alone with you was going to be a struggle for him. Anakin loved to train you, he really did. You were a loyal Padawan to the Order and was eager to learn the ways of the Force by his instruction. He knew the moment that he saw you that he wanted to train you. But he hadn’t prepared for him to become so emotionally attached to you, and it was tearing the young Jedi apart.

It was incredibly taboo of him to gain these feelings for two reasons. One: the Jedi were forbidden from attachment. And although Anakin hadn’t been known for following all the rules of the Jedi, he knew that attachment could possibly lead to dark places if he wasn’t careful. Two: you were his Padawan. It may have been different if you were within the same ranks as him, but you were not. He was supposed to be your teacher, and there was no way that he would take advantage of his position of power over you if you were not willing.

He, too, was having doubts about this vacation. Anakin almost asked his First in Command, Rex, if he would accompany the two Jedi for the week, but there was too much going on for the clone to take time off. So it was just you and him, alone in this house on this beautiful planet. Anakin was uneasy up until the moment he walked in your room last night when for a half a second he could sense your aura from the Force, and it was also uneasy about being with him alone. It was strange, since you were clearly hiding these thoughts from him with your mental shields whenever you were around him. But the moment he left you alone, those shields came down.

“Don’t think about keeping yourself up, the Force will do that on it’s own as long as you keep the connection with it. Focus on the rocks,” Anakin told you, walking around you in circles as you were in a handstand, mentally bringing up some rocks off the ground and stacking them off to your side. This was generally a lesson that a youngling would be given, though it was a good mental exercise. And in Anakin’s opinion: it was way better than meditating. “Feel it flow through you, allow it to take you over and become one with it.” These were the same things that Master Obi-Wan had taught him.

It was a bright, sunny day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky as the time reached a little bit past noon. Training outside in the fields of Naboo were easier than doing so at the Jedi Temple, considering there was more nature that was akin to all aspects of the force. And the sun felt good on both of your skin, smelling the natural air that had a fluorescent scent to it rather than the smog and industrial life of Coruscant.

Your muscles were beginning to strain from underneath you as your head tilted to the side, watching all the rocks fall into place to your left. Even though the Force provided much needed relief on your arms, they were beginning to let out. There was one more rock for you to move and it was the smallest one, a tiny little pebble that needed to go on the top. It was such a small mass, yet with all of this mental and physical strain, it felt like a boulder to move across the air slowly with your mind. All you wanted was for Master Skywalker to feel proud of you. You wanted to see that smile on his face as you lifted that last pebble up and was allowed to finish your studies for the day.

The more you concentrated, the more you could feel the Force flow right through you. It could be felt in the tingling of your palms, sending vibrations towards the center of your chest while your blood flowed. Almost more importantly, you could feel Anakin’s eyes on you, waiting patiently for you to make your next move. Slowly, but surely, the little pebble made its way towards the top of the stacked rocks. Your eyes widened with joy, but immediately squinted back up when it shook a tiny bit. The moment that the bottom of it hit the top, you released your much concentrated attachment with the Force, and allowed yourself to fall seamlessly to the ground. The blood rushed back to your head, making your eyes darken to adjust. Once you could see again, you saw Anakin standing over you, that grin you had looked forward to seeing on his face.

“Not bad, Padawan,” He said in an appealing tone, extending a hand to help you up to your feet. You were quick to take it, ignoring the way that your heart soared as your skin touched against his skin. “We should go back to the house.” He almost turned and began walking away, but you scrunch your nose up and kept his hand in a tight grip, prompting him to look right back at you with a confused look. “What’s up?”

“You promised we could go to the water afterwards,” You told him, hoping that you were jogging his memory from last night.

But you didn’t need to jog Anakin’s memory, because he had been thinking about it ever since you asked. Thinking about having to watch you submerge under the water and come back up, drops of clear blue dripping down your exposed shoulders, and keeping himself from doing something that he would most likely regret when you would reject him, scolding him for his thinking. He thought about the way he wanted to put his hands on your hips and pull you as close as you possibly could get to him, taking the opportunity to pepper kisses along your smooth skin. It killed him to think that you probably didn’t think the same way about him, it was going to goddamn tear him apart.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to go back on his promise to you. It was the least he could do after thinking such sinful things about you. Anakin’s gave you a nod and walked beside you on the short trail to the large lake. You could hear the water ripple towards the small shoreline, coming up and then receding back again in a timely fashion. You kicked off your shoes, deciding that your tank top and pants were okay to get wet, especially since you wouldn’t take the risk of undressing in front of Anakin. As much as the thought was tempting, you knew better than to test your luck. Anakin watched with intensity as you got into the water, going deep enough to where only the tops of your shoulders and up were exposed. Maker, he cursed himself, did you have to look so good barely doing anything?

You cocked your head to the side. “Well . . . are you going to get in or just stare at me?” You asked, immediately submerging yourself under the water to ignore what he had to say about your teasing. Your heart thumped profusely as you sat there under the water holding your breath. Anakin had been looking at you.

He mentally cursed himself once again, taking his shoes off and following you into the water. It did feel good, the water having an almost calming effect over him as he walked deeper in the lake. He looked around him, taking in the appearance of all the beautiful trees that lined up, beautiful fruit hanging off of the branches. Little flowers were along the bay, facing right towards him as if they were welcoming him to their home.

The sun spilled harsh rays along his skin, causing Anakin to dip his head down fully into the water. Once he came back up for air, his eyes shifted over to you, both of you holding a type of eye contact that you swore almost knocked your breath out. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, like he was looking right into your soul and you to his, a sense of desire burning a pit in your stomach. Feeling exposed, you shifted your gaze to the fish swimming in the water near you. You could still feel his eyes on you, in them holding truths that he wished to tell you, but being unable to put the words together to explain.

-

“There’s something that you’re not telling me.”

Your eyes opened at your Master’s voice and looked directly at him. You had been meditating on your bed before sleeping, knowing that you hadn’t gotten the necessary amount of meditating that you needed for the day. At the temple they usually kept you on some kind of schedule, though here with Anakin rules were a little - no, more loose than normal.

Anakin once again stood in your doorframe, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed in, like he didn’t feel like he had a place stepping into your bedroom. You searched his face to gauge a feeling for what he was talking about, looking for hints of mischief or anger. There was nothing, his face was completely blank, almost too blank like he was hiding something from you.

You knew you had nothing to hide - or at least nothing that he should know about. “I don’t know what you mean, Master,” You replied, uncrossing your legs from their criss cross position and hugging them close to your chest. “Have I done something wrong?”

That answer seemed to not satisfy him, because for a moment something flickered in his eyes. “No, nothing like that,” He told you, furrowing his brows together and taking a tentative step closer into your room. “It’s just, I get this feeling when I’m around you. Your force signature . . . like something is just gnawing at you and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Oh, you were screwed. Alarms blared in your mind, thinking about how you had let your thoughts run too much during this trip. All the worst outcomes of this came to your mind, like how he would laugh at your growing feelings towards him, how much you wanted him almost shamelessly. It made your stomach twist into several knots, wanting to bury yourself into a hole and never ever come out of it again.

Your face and the Force must’ve told it all, because he spoke again, saying, “There. Right there. I can feel it, Y/N. Just talk to me. What is going on?” Your bottom lip quivered, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this. This was it. The day you had been dreading and hoping didn’t come. Everything was about to come crash down onto your life.

“I can’t,” You said in a low voice, shifting your weight to sit at the edge of the bed, putting your head into your hands and staring down at the plush carpet in an attempt to get away from his stare. Almost as if you thought if you looked away long enough, he would suddenly disappear.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t’? You’re my Padawan, you can tell me anything.”

Padawan. The title felt foreign in your mind now. It was something that you knew you couldn’t hold onto for much longer once the truth was out. You would be stripped of it and be a Jedi no more. The council would hear of your feelings and immediately expel you. Padawan. Padawan. Padawan. The more the word bounced around in your mind the more you felt tears welling up into your eyes.

And you didn’t mean to sound so harsh when you said it, but your hands were balling up into fists as you said, “That’s what’s wrong!” Your head tilted up, seeing that Anakin had walked closer to you, towering over your frame. His face showed confusion, not understanding what you were alluding to. He didn’t even have to say it, but his expression was saying explain.

How could you even begin?

You were wordless.

“Please . .  . I just want to help you,” Anakin told you, his hand coming to grab onto your forearm. The touch felt like hot coals on your body, scorching your soul. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” Which you knew translated to I don’t like not knowing how to fix it.

“It’s you,” You confessed. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

For a moment, Anakin thought that he had stepped into some parallel universe. Or that this was some sort of prank let on by someone else. There was no way that this was happening, you were confessing. You had been thinking about him, probably as much as he was thinking about you. It felt as if the world had turned on its axis and was spinning the opposite direction.

You, on the other hand, was waiting for the words that never came. You expected him to immediately tell you that he was going to report you to the Council. And yet, he stood there, almost looking as dumbfounded as you did, maybe even more. This prompted you to stand up, his hand falling down and getting dangerously close to your own.

“I know . . .” You started again, seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything. “I know that it’s wrong, that I shouldn’t be thinking of you in the ways that I am. But I can’t stop, Anakin, you consume me.”

The usage of his name snapped him back to reality and out of his own spinning thoughts, and hearing it come from specifically your lips was not helping his frame of mind. It sounded . . . different coming from your mouth. Like you were saying it like a praise rather than just a passing phrase like most people did. He wanted you to say it over and over again, repeating it like a mantra you were to speak or you would die if you didn’t. His eyes flickered into your own and saw how scared you were of how he would react and how he was definitely not helping to settle your nerves.

In truth, he didn’t know how to handle this situation. After all, this was not a lesson that had been given to him and he was definitely not in the best place to tell you anything, since his emotions were starting to cloud his judgement and all he could think was how he wished to tell you he felt the same way.

You waited for his response, getting impatient and wanting to just get this over with. You were waiting for the words he was supposed to say.

But Anakin didn’t always do the things he was supposed to do.

“You and I both know that forming attachments isn’t allowed,” Anakin said. “And yet I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”

A visible look of shock washed over your face, mouth opening slightly and eyes widening, heart pounding against your ribcage. His hand reached down and grabbed your own, fingertips softly touching the palm of your hand. This felt like a dream. Were you sure that you weren’t dreaming? No, this was definitely real. Anakin was in front of you for sure, confessing that he was feeling the exact same way.

Anakin tipped his head down to meet your own, his breath fanning along your face, making you shiver. Your breath hitched in your throat, his lips brushing against your own, almost like he was testing you. You could feel the tips of his hair tickling against your forehead, nose against nose. You were so close. The hand on your own was grasping now, pulling your body close to his. And the two of you sat there, lips millimeters close while each of your minds buzzed with the feeling of doing something so daring.

You felt yourself going mad, you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t wait. All of your feelings erupted inside of your throat and suddenly you were kissing him, lips smashing against his own with no care in the world. You didn’t care about the Council, the Code . . . anything. All you cared about was Anakin, wanting as much of him that he was willing to give you.

You had never really kissed anyone before. There was a moment back when you were only ten and you were with another youngling, seeing one of the citizens of Coruscant kissing each other on the street. Interested in what they were doing, you and your friend kissed, thinking that it was weird and dismissing it. That had been your first kiss, a rather embarrassing one, but it was nothing compared to the way Anakin kissed you. He kissed you like there was a purpose to every single move of his muscles. He kissed you like you were forbidden fruit and he was starving.

His other hand came up to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair and keeping your face close to his. For just a moment his tongue slipped into your mouth and you made a small sound, butterflies swarming in your stomach. You tried to mimic what he was doing, going with your instincts and grasping onto his bicep, feeling the taut muscles under your touch.

Everything about yours and his actions were needy and hungry, wanting each other with such need that you had pushed down for so long. All of it seemed to come out of you like crashing waves. The kissing was nice, though after a while you needed more, you were dying for more of him. Please, Anakin, you thought.

What do you want, Padawan? He asked through his thoughts to you, hand coming to caress your face to look down at you. You looked into those big, blue eyes of his that never ceased to awaken something within you.

“You, Anakin, I want you,” You whispered to him, as if someone was going to hear if you talked too loud. “Please.” You thought that you probably sounded like someone desperate, and in a way you were, you had waited for this forever and had convinced yourself that it would never happen. But he thought the exact opposite, he marvelled in the way that you looked at him, wanting to show you how much you truly meant to him. The attraction and lust was there, intermingled with something more that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

He didn’t hesitate to give you what you wanted, slowly inching you towards the bed and helping you rest on your back, the silk sheets against the back of your arms and neck. Anakin was quick to follow, climbing on top of you and connecting his lips onto the skin right below your jaw. His lips were soft like snowflakes falling onto your skin, creating a masterpiece on your skin like you were his canvas. It all felt too good, the Force heightening the sensations to an almost unbearable amount. It sent shockwaves to your core, igniting a feeling you often only felt during the late hours of the night.

Seeing how well your body responded to him, well, almost drove Anakin crazy. You were so willing, so ready for him that his mind became cloudy, the only thing he could make out was his thoughts of you. Nothing about the war, the Council, the fact that he was your Master . . . It all blew away with the wind. His lips trailed down from your jaw to your neck, paying extra attention to the places that made you breath out more than the others. Your hands found their respective place in his hair, feeling the softness of the dirty blonde curls between your fingers.

Your clothes suddenly felt foreign on your body, you wanted them off, you wanted his off so that you could see all of him. He seemed to hear your thoughts, humming against your skin and pulling away, pressing a soft, firm kiss to your lips and helping you get out of them, and in turn you helped him get out of his.

Anakin’s body was like nothing you imagined. He was breathtaking. You knew that he had a nice body because of all the training and countless amounts of physical strain he has been through, but looking at those abs that he had, along with the sun kissed skin he had, you felt your throat close up, feeling inferior to what he looked like. “You’re beautiful, Y/N,” He spoke to your thoughts. “Don’t ever think that you’re not.” And you believed him.

His hands came to your hips, fingers toying with the fabric of your underwear that was the only thing blocking him from seeing you fully. His eyes scanned you, taking in the sheer and utter beauty before him. He wanted to kiss, lick, and nip on every single inch of skin on you. He wanted to learn each and every single curve, hear every story behind your scars, and know just what touches would have you squirming from underneath him.

No one has seen you this exposed before. You didn’t know whether or not to feel embarrassed, because he seemed to know what he was doing. It was not that you had taken the Jedi code to heart, but you simply hadn’t known anyone that you found enough to take that last piece of innocence from you - no one except Master Skywalker. And only now did you actually realize what was going to happen.

Your whole body felt hot, needing to feel the release that was beginning to build up from all of his kisses and your imagination running its course. “Anakin,” You breathed out, not knowing how to form into words what you wanted from him. Of course he knew, he could feel your force signature morph into something almost sinful, something he was sure he was emitting himself. After all, neither of you were hiding anything anymore. He knew exactly what he was going to do to you so that he could hear the plethora of moans that he knew you had just for him, wanting to hear his name come off of your lips in pleasure.

His head ducked down and kissed your hipbone, fingers hooking under your underwear and slowly sliding them off. Your eyes stayed on his actions, mouth forming into an ‘O’ when you realized what he was going to do. He was going to use his mouth on you. These were only things that you thought in your deepest, darkest fantasies, like he had reached into those parts of your mind and did exactly what you wanted.

As if Anakin was just tempting you, he pressed another slow kiss to the inside of your thigh and then did the same thing to the other side. Your hips lifted up only slightly, showing him that you couldn’t wait much longer. A chuckle left him, eyes reaching your own and saying, “Eager?” You weren’t even ashamed when you shook your head, keeping eye contact with him as he licked a bold stripe right up your slit. It felt as if an earthquake hit your body, your back arching and hands gripping onto his hair.

He hummed against you, liking the way that you responded to his actions. If he had it his way, he would sit here with you like this for hours on end, bringing you up to that high place again and again until you were a wrecked mess before him. It made him simply go crazy to think that he was the first person to ever do this to you, that he would be the first of anyone to hear those moans and profanities that slipped from your cherry kissed lips. Anakin’s own thoughts made him groan out, a noise that you played on repeat in your mind as your eyes screwed closed.

Your thighs quivered beside his face, attempting to squeeze shut so that you could keep him there forever. But his hands came and held them in place, fingers digging into your muscles that gave in to his touch like it was nothing. You were putty in his hands, the only movement you had was your hands pulling on his hair and the arch of your back while he lapped his tongue against you with no mercy.

“Stay still,” He told you, pulling away for a moment to lick what was left of you on his lips. You nodded, chest heaving and heart sinking at the loss of contact. But Anakin didn’t leave for long, his mouth on your clit accompanied with one of his fingers circling your entrance. You nearly lost it when he dipped his middle finger in experimentally, gauging your reaction. You could feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, which only amplified once his finger pushed into you all the way.

You didn’t even attempt to try and censor the obscenities that came out of your mouth, mixed in rhyme with his name. Anakin. Anakin. Anakin. It was the only word that felt real in your mind.

You waited for that final jump towards a euphoric end, but it never came. Instead Anakin pulled away from you and his fingers left, making you feel uneasily empty. Opening your eyes, you saw that he was pulling down his boxers, taking his cock into his hands and watching as you almost became slack jawed - realizing what was about to happen. A moment of worry nestled its way into your mind, making your heart thump. If anyone was to find out, you would surely not be accepted back into the Order. You would never be able to have Anakin again. Jedi were not to fear, and yet here you were, fearing that you would lose the one person that you cared about - the only one you knew cared about you.

It was your moment to choose. You knew that if you backed out, at least you would be able to work under him still and not have his affections. It would be better than never seeing him again. And yet, you couldn’t see your life without him, all of him. Not just the side that was your Master.

Anakin sensed your worry, taking your chin in his hands so that you looked up at him. “Are you sure?” He asked you, not wanting to move forward before you were ready. And God, were you ready.

And with all the courage that you mustered up, you gave him a small smile and said, “Yes.” You felt like you were flinging yourself off of some sort of cliff, or even more sinfully feeling like you were Persephone, cutting up her own slice of pomegranate and looking right into Hades eyes as she tasted the fruit, securing your fate that you would stay with him. You would stay with Anakin, even if it was only for this night.

He nestled between your legs and you could feel his tip press against your entrance. Air was caught in your lungs, sitting up on your elbows so that you could see as he eased himself into you. A sting of pain and a subtle feeling of pleasure was seated inside of you, watching as his cock be enveloped by you inch by inch. Anakin hissed at the feeling, you were so goddamn tight and he never wanted to stop from being inside of you. Once all of him was inside, he leaned over so his head was in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss to your searing skin as you adjusted to him bottoming out.

You urged him to continue, thinking that the discomfort would soon go away with time. And you were eager to get all of him that you could, temptation coming forward instead of reason. He pulled out all the way then eased himself back in, continuing the slower pace and watching your reaction before him, your hands reaching to his back and finding their place there. One of his hands kept your legs open, taking you by your thigh and hoisting it up.

It took all that he could muster to not just ram into you, the want starting to cloud his judgment. The Force felt as if it was pushing both you and him towards each other, the connection almost driving each of you crazy. “You feel . . .” He started. “You feel so good.” That alone, along with the raspiness in his voice, made a fire erupt in your stomach. You sighed in response, eyes fluttering closed once again.

And then, much to his surprise, you whispered, “Go faster, Anakin.” You needed him so bad you felt like you were going to explode, lust enveloping the both of you and intertwining with your Force energies.

He didn’t need to be told twice, and he gripped onto the leg he lifted up, beginning a slightly faster rhythm that had you arching your neck and eyes rolling to the back of your head. Anakin was so big, stretching you out in just the right way that had you almost keeling over if he hadn’t had such a tight grip on you. Your one leg wrapped along his waist, heel digging into his back while his pace increased.

This angle he had you in made you yelp and moan shamelessly, not caring if people all the way in the capital could hear you as you yelled his name like a prayer. His pace finally became a fast rhythm and you found comfort in being to finally feel nothing but pleasure with every deep stroke he made.

In this place, it was only you and him. Like you were in your own little place of paradise where you could explore each other in every way. There was nothing that could take this moment from you or him, this moment would forever be engraved in your mind for many years to come, remembering the way that he moaned out your name and the way he looked when you opened your eyes to peek at his face. His brows were furrowed, sweat beading on his forehead and mouth spilled open saying nothing but your name.

He made you feel so good, so euphoric that the fire grew and grew, becoming a wildfire raging inside of you. And you looked so heavenly to him, the way that your eyes only looked at him, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust he gave you. You took him so well, like you were made for only him. His hips brushed against your own, hand coming up to caress your cheek, forcing you to look at him in the eyes.

You weren’t going to last much longer. Not with the way that he was pounding into you with sheer force you didn’t know was possible until now. But you didn’t want this to end, you never wanted this to end in fear that things would go back to the way they were before. You would have to try and forget that this ever happened. It wasn’t something you wanted to do and didn’t even know if you had the strength to do it. After this moment both of you would be connected.

You made a guttural noise, teetering over the edge of what felt like a wave of bliss. This was it, there was no way that you could keep yourself from it now. It only took a singular deep stroke of his cock to send you right over the edge, your back arching and body spasming, his name rolling off of your tongue in the most sinful way you have ever said it before. Your hands gripped for any part of him that you could reach, groping his muscles to keep him close to you. He didn’t stop moving inside of you, making you ride it out even harder as he chased his own high.

You were so sensitive as he fucked into you, giving you no mercy. He groaned as you came, watching the way that your eyes screwed shut and mouth opening in as you sucked in harsh breaths. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you and you knew that he was close, wondering if he was going to cum inside of you or pull out before he did. He did the latter, taking one more deep stroke before pulling out. Anakin was about to start stroking himself with his hand but you rushed with your own to meet him there, using your own and pumping a few times.

A string of profanities came from his lips as he came, white hot liquid spurting onto your stomach, dripping like beads coating your skin. He had no shame as he shuddered, muscles flexing with every passing second. He drank in your body, seeing how wet you were for him, how soft your hand was on his cock, how much he longed to see you like this more times before you and him left back for the war. And soon enough he was finished, the only thing between both of you was both of your panting breaths.

Anakin moved to grab something on the floor, realizing that it was the shirt he had on before and moving to wipe your stomach off, dropping it to the floor and coming to lay down next to you. You winced for a moment as you moved to look at him, his own eyes staring at the ceiling. You were scared of what was to come next, if there was anything that was supposed to come next. You knew that the two of you couldn’t be together, at least openly, though it was even risky to continue doing something like this in private.

“Anakin,” You called out to him, forcing him to look at you. “What will happen next?”

“I don’t know, Y/N, I don’t know,” He responded. All he knew was that he wanted you, again and again. In the domestic moments and in the explicit ones like before. You were so tantalizing, and he realized now that because he had tasted the forbidden fruit that was you, he would never be able to stop. There was simply no way that he would be able to conceal his want for you from you anymore.

You waited for his answer, knowing that it would probably be one you didn’t want to hear. But for the second time this evening, Anakin surprised you again.

He leaned over and kissed you.

And you knew his answer from that.

[fbfh]

light up the dark [VI] - leo x reader

genre: mid adventure domestic fluff overture, romance, smutty lemony bit towards the end

word count: 3k

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: very much so, yes

warnings: magic manipulation powers, feelings are hard and weird and scary, some innuendos, the phrase hot gusher out of context, the word dirty talk, trying to "proposition [someone] in front of two for one cookie crisp", brief credit card theft, jason thinks ketchup is spicy and gets clowned on for it, one use of the word lube in reference to mechanical lubricant, shirtless leo remember that one piece of shirtless leo viria art?????? remember the caption?????, your facade is beginning to crack, deadpan joke about being dead in space, making out, whole lotta sexual tension, brief mention of a boner, teeny tiny bit of grinding, getting interrupted, c*lypso

summary: after an extensive shopping trip, you, Leo, and Jason settle into your airbnb and wait for the others to arrive. Jason takes a nap, and Leo helps you dye your hair. You return the favor by helping him make dinner which leads to two things; a well timed boner, and a poorly timed visitor.

listen to: power and control - marina, 100 bad days - ajr, all I ask - adele

a/n: let's play spot the zack and cody reference within the first paragraph

also surprise the series isn't dead!! a shock to all but mostly me!!

as with all smexy smutty nsfw content, all characters are aged up to 18+

Standing in front of a wall of hair dye taller than you are should have been exciting. It would have been, except for the fact that all the colors were various shades of honey mist auburn. You really don’t want to have to make a separate trip to a beauty store for hair dye. Your eyes land on a firetruck red box, and gratefully, you realize you won’t have to.

“Perfect,” you muse, throwing it into your cart, along with the other stuff on the list you’d divided between you. You grab a few other things from the beauty section while you’re there; some makeup, eyeliner, a glass nail file, and a tiny pair of oil slick cuticle scissors.

Nearby is a guy a little older than you in a varsity hoodie and sweatpants squinting at a two in one shampoo label.

Perfect, you think, beginning to approach. You work your magic - literally - and within a few minutes you have his credit card. It takes way less time than it used to. You also didn’t have to smile and flirt nearly as much as you used to. You’re relieved that you don’t have to fake enthusiasm around rich douchebags the way you used to, and a new inky drop of fear begins to stain the corners of your mind. You can’t even bear to admit it to yourself, but you’re kind of scared. Before you can begin to question if you know what love is and if you’re capable of experiencing it without the influence of your divine heritage, you shove it all away. Not the place, not the time. You speed up a little, passing an endcap of candy, and knock a box into your cart.

On the other side of the store, Jason checks off items from their half of the list as Leo tosses items in the cart, talking along the way. Of course, you came up in conversation rather quickly.

“She’s… a real piece of work.” Jason says, treading lightly.

“You said it, man,” Leo agrees, sliding a pack of coke onto the bottom of the cart. Jason thinks for a moment before continuing.

“She seems to,” he tries to figure out how to phrase their dynamic, “not hate you as much as everyone else.” Leo laughs at the accuracy of the statement. He can tell Jason has something else to say, so he’s quiet while putting paper plates and napkins into the cart.

“Hey, Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“Just… don’t let her hurt you, okay?”

He stops for a second. He’s so lucky to have a friend like Jason, one that will genuinely look out for him, but sometimes people caring for him still catches him off guard. Really off guard. With no idea how to begin to verbalize that complicated mess, he takes a split second to collect himself.

“Thanks, man.”

His smile is sincere.

Don’t let her hurt you. Can he just do that? Not let someone hurt him? Especially someone like you. He’s only had a few long term crushes before, all just out of reach and only getting further away. Only one had amounted to something - not that he could call what he had with Calypso ‘something’. She certainly wouldn’t. He looks around, trying to shake off the sting. He starts to get that unsettled, itchy feeling when he focuses on stuff like that for too long.

‘At least I got some good stories out of it,’ he thinks, messing with the back of his hair and fixing his hoodie strings.

“Here.”

He turns around, coming face to face with you, holding out a box very close to him.

“Hot gusher.” You say softly. What? His cheeks heat up, pulse speeding up suddenly. He glances at Jason, who’s at the other end of the aisle asking an employee something. Are you implying something? Are you trying to proposition him in front of two for one cookie crisp? He’s unable to look away from your gaze, intense and striking. You couldn’t possibly mean what he thinks you mean. Your fingers brush and he’s struggling to find an elegant way to say ‘hey, maybe the grocery store isn’t an ideal place for dirty talk’.

“W- uh, sorry, what?” he says, laughing in an equally hushed tone, needing to make sure you meant what he thought you did. You glance down, then back up.

“They’re spicy gushers. I thought you’d like them.” the feeling is gone in a split second, the same time it took to arrive, and is replaced with relief. He looks down at the box, realizing he’d taken it from you at some point. He laughs at the ridiculousness of his previous panic.

“Thanks,” he says, a reflective smile on his face.

You realize how comforted you are to see him smile, really smile, when you catch yourself having to keep a neutral face. One of the first times your resting bitch face has been intentional. Before you can say you’re welcome, Jason comes back over. You hand him the card.

“Pin number’s 0401.”

They both stare at you, skimming the label of a granola bar, completely unperturbed.

“How…”

“Credit card theft.”

The logical part of Leo’s brain starts to speak up, telling him to raise his guard, that his stomach should be twisting. If you can just take someone’s credit card without a hint of remorse, who knows what the hell kind of damage you could do to him if he got closer to you? And he really wants to get closer to you.

“Oh,” you pull a small pop top tube out of your cart and hand it to Leo, “this is for you too. You know, since you don’t like coffee,” you trail off as he reads the label. Caffeine and electrolyte drink tablets, red berry rampage flavor. He looks up at you, feeling warm and… something else, something ineffable, at the gesture.

You stare at each other, eyes locked, surprised at the strangely intimate feeling stirring in both of you.

“What are those?” Jason asks, snapping you out of whatever that was.

“Spicy gushers,” Leo says, smiling again, “I didn’t even know they made those.”

“Hot mango,” Jason reads from the side of the box, “that actually sounds pretty good.”

“No way dude, you can’t handle spicy food.” He starts to protest, and Leo continues, “You think ketchup is spicy!” He looks shocked.

“Okay, that was one time! It was a weird brand and there was way too much pepper in it!”

You bite back a giggle at their bickering, taking note of how much better Leo seems to be doing and finding surprising comfort in their banter.

It doesn’t take long to get to the airbnb and get set up. You all dump your bags in your rooms, bring in the groceries, and shove everything into the cabinets in a reasonably organized manner.

Jason heads upstairs to unpack and call Piper, announcing a few minutes later that they should be here in less than two hours.

“Perfect,” you pull out your hair dye from the last bag. It’s not exactly the manic panic wildfire red you’d initially wanted, but it’s definitely better than nothing. You stare at the box for a second, then up at Leo who’s trying to get one more bag of chips to fit in with the others.

“Hey,” you say, just loud enough to get his attention, “do you… can you get the back of my head?” He looks at you, questioning, and you hold up the box dye. He smiles, once again noting your softened edges around him.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and minutes later you’re in the bathroom, adorned in a big tee shirt covered in all your previous hair colors. He’s staring at your shirt, eyes dancing over the swirls and splatters of color. It reminds him of a painting he’d seen once, unable to remember the name.

You shake the bottle, skimming the instructions again, then start speaking to him, eyes still on the box.

“Take a section of hair, about this much,” you demonstrate, holding out a section of hair, “rub in the dye like this…”

You hand him the second bottle of red dye, and he starts on the back. His fingertips start separating out a section of your hair, and you still, a shiver running up your spine. He hesitates for a moment, then continues, and you hope he hadn’t noticed. His breath fans your ear, and you can feel the heat radiating off his chest. Your lungs are shallow suddenly, squeezed tight like a bouquet clutched in a shaking hand. You find it almost impossible to focus on dying the front half of your hair.

You don’t want it to stop, you realize. His fingertips dancing along your hair, the glimpses of his incredibly focused face in the bathroom mirror, the way he’ll gently turn your head to make sure he didn’t miss a spot.

“Shit,” he leans back, hunching forward. You look behind you, eyes landing immediately on the spot of red dye on his shirt.

“Shit,” you echo. He looks back at you, waiting to see how he’ll react.

“Oh, it’s all good - no worries. I already have a ton of motor oil and lube - lubricant… machine grade, petroleum based engine lubricant-” he laughs, “stains on this shirt anyway. Don’t sweat it.”

You almost laugh. A giggle bubbles up from your chest and stomach, but catches in your throat. Before it can come out, he slips off his dye stained gloves, and tugs off his dye stained shirt from the back. It seems to happen in slow motion. In a mere moment, your eyes engraving every detail, every line and curve and freckle to memory.

There’s really no delicate way to put it; he’s fucking jacked. Deceptively so. You’re frozen in place, cheeks flushed. You suddenly wonder what it would be like to be wrapped up in his arms, held so close to him.

You snap yourself out of the thought, all of that occurring in just a few seconds. He leans past you, setting the dye stained shirt carefully on the counter, glancing at you intensely.

“Are you checking me out?”

You make yourself roll your eyes and turn away, replying, “I’m sure you’d love that.”

Angled away from him, you momentarily reprimand yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and mouthing oh my god. You turn back to him, not recalling the last time you had to deliberately keep up your aloof front around someone like this.

“So, are we finishing my hair or just gonna leave it like this?” you ask rhetorically, motioning to your half done hair.

He watches you do this, confirming his suspicion that you’re really not as cold as you let on. A smile blooms on his face, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as… cute as that.

“Yeah,��� he replies, slipping his gloves back on. The things you do around him seem to mean more now. He notices the way your eyes flutter closed for a moment when he plays with your hair, working in the dye, or the way you still for a split second when he gets a little too close to the side of your face, checking that he didn’t miss a spot.

He doesn’t want this to end either. But eventually, your hair is fully saturated with dye, the timer on your phone counting down slowly. There’s still some dye left. He sits on the closed toilet.

“Your turn. Do me.”

“What?” you laugh.

“Yeah, a little streak - up here.” He leans forward, sectioning off a part of his hair.

“Seriously?” you ask.

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want to match…” he muses. Your eyes get this dreamy look for the briefest second, then you’re turning back to shake the bottle some more.

“I guess… I mean there’s too much dye to throw out, we might as well do something with it.”

It’s his turn, now, to feel the warmth from your body, your hands running through his hair. His eyes want to close, and bask in the feeling, but he refuses to miss out on the view of you so soft, so close to him. It doesn’t last nearly long enough for either of you, and much too soon you’re pulling away and throwing away the gloves and empty bottles.

By the time you finish cleaning up and throw out the garbage, it’s time to rinse your hair. Hanging your head over the tub, you let the water flow over your head until Leo tells you it’s running clear. He does the same, and you point out too late that he only had to rinse the dyed part, not his whole head.

You both laugh as you wrap a towel around your hair, teaching him how to do the same.

“Sweet, I’ve always wondered how to do the spa snail towel thing.”

“The spa snail towel thing?” You try in vain to fight another laugh.

“Yeah, you know… cause it looks like a snail, and they do it at spas…”

“Oh… my gods…” you laugh, exiting the bathroom and heading down the hall, “I”m going to get changed.” you call.

“Am I wrong?” he asks after you, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He heads to his room to do the same.

A few minutes later, you’re carefully pulling on your top, when he calls through your door.

“Hey, I’m gonna be in the kitchen, come down when you’re ready.”

“...Okay,” you agree.

You check your outfit in the mirror. You can still feel his fingers brushing your neck. Your head tilts at the memory. Snapshots of him pulling off his shirt in slow motion flash in your memory.

You realize how much of an affect the last hour has had on you. Your stomach drops.

You can’t possibly be falling in love. No way. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

You’re not the falling in love type. At most, you’d hook up with someone a couple times on the rare occasion you thought they were hot, too.

Oh, you decide, that must be what’s happening. I just think he’s hot. I mean, duh. Of course he’s hot. Did you see him in there?

That’s all you have to do; hook up with him once, maybe twice, then you’ll get over it. It’ll make his ex jealous, and they’ll get back together. It will go just like it always has. Then you can move on to whatever the next crisis is.

You take a breath, resolving to follow the plan, exit your room. You throw yours and Leo’s old clothes and towels in the hamper, and head down stairs. He greets you, and pulls you into the kitchen.

“I have something to ask you.” Your brow furrows.

“...Okay.”

He takes your hand in his, the other behind his back.

“Will you…” he looks at you, gaze piercing, “...be my sous-chef.” he finishes, holding out an apron, matching his.

You study him, a hopeful, surprisingly confident look on his face. His hair is still damp. You’re sure yours is, too. You wait a beat, before replying slowly.

“Yes. But I’m not wearing that.”

“That’s fair,” he says, setting the apron on the counter, “I will have to dock your pay for being out of uniform, though.” You let out a puff of air from your nose, biting back a laugh. He pulls out a skillet, bowl, and oil, and begins preheating the pan. You watch him pull out more ingredients, and begin to set things up.

“Right now we’re waiting on that,” he says nodding at the stove. You nod, inspecting a bottle of seasoning he’d pulled out, and settle into a comfortable silence.

He thinks back to the last time you had time like this - playing twenty questions at your apartment. A pit forms in his stomach as he remembers the conversation veering to Calypso, as it always seemed to. He shoves it away. Not this time. He steadies his nerves. “So, you want to play twenty questions?”

You agree, coming closer to him.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Your eyes flick over to the clock. You have a solid hour, hour and a half before the others are supposed to get here. You stare at him, brushing hair out of his face.

“I’d be dead in the endless void of deep space.”

He cracks a smile at how on brand that response was. Your fingertips trail down to his neck, rethen shoulder. The smile doesn’t leave his face, not completely. Your heart beats loudly in anticipation.

“My turn. Do you want to make out?”

His head snaps up, eyes locked with yours, trying to tell if you’re serious or if this is another example of your distinct sense of humor. But he can tell it’s not - there’s something a little too close to the surface in your eyes.

“Yeah. Yes, totally-”

You grab his collar, pulling him in for a kiss, and leaning back against the empty counter.

His lips are soft and warm, moving gracefully with yours. You barely register that the first kiss ends before you dive back in. You angle your head, deepening the kiss. He plants one hand on the counter, the other making its way to the small of your back. You flick your tongue past his lips, and his grip on your waist tightens. You clutch his collar tighter, other hand moving through his hair, still damp at the ends.

You can tell he’s enjoying what you do by the way his mouth quirks up ever so slightly at the corners, and by the way he starts to harden beneath you. You roll your hips into his, and he falters, sighing, breath fanning your lips. Not quite a moan, but you’re getting there.

The front door opens before you can.

Leo pulls away reluctantly, very reluctantly, and turns off the stove.

“That was fast,” he says, panting slightly and still very flushed. They’re not supposed to be here for a while, still.

A tall girl enters the kitchen, dark strawberry blonde hair pulled over her shoulder. She looks between you and Leo with a sour expression on her face.

“Calypso,” Leo says.

"...Hi."

[courtlyharlequin]

First welcome, second your blog's aesthetic is beautiful, and third, if you don't mind can I request (whatever you feel like) domestic Leona, please? It doesn't need to be a married couple (unless you want to), it can be those moments, actions or routines MC and him have as a couple. I don't know if it's clear enough, I hope so. Some fluff for the lion boy. You're free to ignore, of course. Thanks!

The Little Things

Warning(s): Slight spoilers for Leona’s Unique Magic

A/N: How could I ignore something so sweet? I think your potions/wizardry aesthetic is beautiful as well. Thank you for the warm welcome~ This blog is new so this was very encouraging. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Loving the man that by the name Leona Kingscholar was no easy task. He was flawed. He was lazy and arrogant. He was keen and intelligent yet he refused to live up to that potential. His remarks during arguments stung. He knew you like the back of his hand— when and where to attack when things heated up quickly in order to shut you down. There were times he reduced you into a puddle of tears, uncontrollably shaking from anger.

But yet, it was because Leona knew you like the back of his hand that you loved him in his entirety, flaws and all. You loved him for the little things— the way he nonchalantly insisted on walking on the side of the sidewalk closest to the carriages, the way he discreetly sent Ruggie to watch over you whenever he couldn’t do so himself or the way he always held your hands with intertwined fingers rather than palm to palm.

Those three words echoed in your ears as you smiled into the kiss.  You had always been the first to rise therefore that particular morning, quite literally, took your breath away.

Mornings with Leona always began with a kiss. He loved physical affection. There was no need for force. One breathtaking, passionate kiss on his slightly chapped lips and he would be up and about, getting ready for school on his own. Morning Magishift practice was out of the question, but considering that he willingly woke up at this hour, without much complaint, sufficed.

If you two were early, a stop to the cafeteria’s kitchen was essential. His dormitory lacked a cooking area of any sort. This lion was a picky eater who only ate meat.

Today, you were early which meant that the prefect could feast upon your culinary creations— something that he particularly relished yet dismissed the moment someone asked about it.

Not too long ago, Leona developed a strong attachment to the foods you made especially for him. Now, he was a picky meat-eater who also had a preference for the food you especially made for him.

Back at home, Leona had the finest chefs and the freshest ingredients all in one place. However, that kind of meal lacked something, something that made all dishes delicious, despite being seasoned properly and cooked to order.

“It’s love,” you said curtly,  as if it wasn’t the most ridiculous answer in the world.

It was always “love”. 

When he injured himself during Magishift practice a few weeks ago, you rushed him to the infirmary and insisted that you tended to the scrapes yourself. He was confused. It wasn’t as if he was a child. It wasn’t as if these cuts were fatal, In fact, they didn’t hurt at all yet here you were– on the verge of tears and trembling, but somehow managing a strong front, casually talking to him about small, random, little things. Nevertheless, conversations of this type always ended like this:

“(y/n), you know… you don’t have to do this,” Leona sighed.

“I’m doing this because I love you.”

Wishful thinking followed. Three, simple words silenced the prideful lion. Every. Single. Time. 

‘Huh. (y/n) loves me,’ he thought.

Three, simple words was all it took to make him completely putty in your hands, to make him vulnerable. As much as Leona verbally expressed his distaste for that kind of affection, deep down, he enjoyed it. Go on, tell him more. Why do you love such a heinous beast who could kill you with his unique magic? Why do you love such a sorry excuse of a dorm leader? A prince? If he–

“Leona!” you exclaimed, waving your hand to snap him out of his trance.

He playfully smacked your hand away. You huffed and puffed your cheeks.

“Your breakfast is getting cold,” you mumbled.

When did you finish preparing his food?? How much time has passed since his mind wandered off? He stared at the dish before him.

No meat today, a shame. Leona clicked his tongue. Instead, the plate was piled high with pancakes, drizzled in an absurd amount of chocolate and maple syrup and topped with berries, chocolate chips, and whipped cream. Leona groaned at the sight of it. Breakfast? More like dessert!

“Come on! It’s not that bad,” you whined in response to his miserable tone, “Here. Try it.”

Pfttt! What is this blasphemy? You’re trying to feed him now. You’re quite the amusing herbivore.

“Just this once, (y/n),” Leona said reluctantly with an eye roll as he obliged, opening his mouth for you to spoon in one hell of a confection.

He braced himself for the sickeningly saccharine flavors. Rather than a stomach-turning sapor, his tongue was met with a subtle, yet refreshing sweetness. The combination of the tart berries, the bitter chocolate syrup, and the light cream melted into his mouth. Leona chewed slowly.

“How is it?” you sheepishly asked, worried by his laggard reaction.

“The most disgustingly sweet breakfast I’ve ever had, darling,” he chuckled lowly as he pecked your lips before he took the utensil from you and turned about to his “disgustingly sweet breakfast”, eating it with a face that displayed anything but revolt.

The taste of the berries lingered on your lips as you brought your slender fingers to ease the numbness that he had bestowed upon your labium.

“Liar,” you pouted, shoving a fork-full into your own mouth, gnawing on it.

The lion glanced over from the corner of his eyes. There you were— with your slightly droopy eyes that longed for just a little more sleep, with your lips pursed in that wonderful pink tint that tempted him to pepper you with kisses, with your soft hands that were made to fit his like a glove— seated right beside him with absolutely no intention of ever leaving.

Now that was something Leona could get used to. He was truly favored by some higher power to have you by his side every morning, to have you cook meals for him from the very bottom of your heart, or to merely have occasional kittenish banters with you. Now that was something Leona could do for the rest of his life.

“Earth to Leona! Leonaaaaaaaa~!”

He swatted away your hand once more.

“Goodness… you’ve been zoning out all morning. What have you been thinking about?” you mused.

“Oh nothing. Just the little things,” he smirked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?! Heyyy! Tell me!” you whined, fervently poking around his sides.

Ah yes, he would love to get used to this.

[divinityoswin]

chocolate bar

Commission for: @ask-wbp-b @mushroomgrenade ❤

➵ my commissions are open!

summary: Snapshots of B’s relationship with Roger, told through chocolate.

wordcount: 2024

characters: Roger & B (OC)

Warnings: mild mentions of character death

It’s a day like any other, and yet somehow the captain of the Roger pirates is as exhilarated as ever.  True, B hadn’t exactly had the time to know Gol D. Roger (not Gold Roger, he had made very clear when introducing himself to her for the first time - it didn’t help that when she tried to say she knew already, her fingers glitched) but her knowledge of the future provides insight into the future King’s personality.

He is like a child, almost, in that joyful way he views the world.  Yet there’s something much older and wiser within him, something that calls for allies.  For every battle won, Roger celebrates their victory - and also their lives.  And they’d only won two battles since B had joined them.

A week has come and gone since Whitebeard gave her his blessing to go sail with Roger, and in that time she’s made friends with most of the crew.  Shanks and Rayleigh were the most welcoming at the time, the latter going as far as to give her a tour of the crew and introduce her to all her new shipmates personally.  Roger, of course, was warm too, but it was hard to talk to him, much less reach him, what with all the commotion happening all.  The damn.  Time.

B sits underneath the mast, relishing in the rare moment of serenity in the Oro Jackson with a cup of tea by her side and notepads on the other.  There is absolutely nothing that could ruin this moment.

“Hey, B!”

Nothing at all.

“B-eeeeeee!”

She refuses to look at the intruder - one because they had just interrupted a very relaxing moment, and two because they’d been getting a resounding headache overtime from the excessive partying.  

The intruder huffs, and from the corner of her eye she sees a pink sleeve with a hand resting on a hip.  Her gaze follows up, frowning, and wondering why that voice is so familiar - and then it hits her.

“Roger!” she exclaims.  He’s never singled her out like this before.  Not even when she begged Pops to let her go with him. “Oh, I thought you were an insect.”

Roger frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Annoying,” she says, poking her tongue out playfully.  

It’s almost surreal to her, that she can banter with Roger like this.  She expects him to shout out a quick “hey!” of defiance, but is caught off-guard when he throws his head back and laughs.  That hearty, deep rumble that somehow sounds like the ocean’s tides echoes throughout the deck, and although she’s used to it by now, the power it wielded was still unfathomable.  Roger’s laughter slowly turns into chuckles, until finally it stops, and he wipes at the corner of his eyes.

“You guys always say that, but you’re the ones following me!” Roger says. “Maybe I ain’t so annoying after all, hm?” He smirks and nudges B with his elbow.

The fact that he includes her in his crew already doesn’t slip past her.  She tilts her head, staring at her new captain with interest. “Did you need something?”

“Nope,” he replies, grinning. “Just checking up on you.  We haven’t had much of a chance to talk yet.”

“You’re always surrounded by adoring fans,” B says.

He feigns a sigh. “It’s tough being so famous.  Marines are always after my autograph.”

The pair glance at each other and hold back laughter - try to, that is.  It doesn’t take long for the two to erupt into giggles, before they begin guffawking and holding in their stomachs.  Roger is the first to recover.  B takes a little while longer, mostly because she couldn’t believe the absurdity of the situation.  When she finally stops, she looks up to him.

Roger is smiling, brighter than even the sun, and she feels as though they could conquer the world together.

Suddenly she understands why so many people were attracted to him.  His personality was like a magnet, drawing people in and sticking them to him.  He isn’t nearly the demon others made him out to be, yet at the same time that power is so terrifying that she understands why.

Mihawk was right.

“So,” Roger begins, “you feeling good about this ship?”

She looks around. “I mean.  It’s nice?  I’m not much of a shipwright, but I like the wood.”

“Tom’ll be glad to hear that!” Roger laughs. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?”

Roger sits down next to her, his legs crossed and his hands resting on his thighs.  He looks to be deep in thought. “I meant - the crew.  You feeling alright?  It’s a whole new crew for you,” he says.

Ah.  Now that makes sense.  Her now-captain is worried for her wellbeing, making sure she’s getting along well with everyone.  Ensuring that his newest member didn’t feel left out.  A soft giggle passes over B’s lips at the prospect that anyone of Roger’s crew would be unwelcoming.  Even the teenage Buggy had been nothing but warm to her since her arrival on the ship (though, with Buggy he tried to be tough and scary - keyword being tried).  

“It’s a wonderful crew,” she says, “with a wonderful captain.”

Roger’s grin grows even wider, as if that were physically possible.  He shines brighter than the sun. “A wonderful captain, eh?  Now that’s a compliment from a gorgeous lady!”

B doesn’t bother hiding her blush.  Roger would somehow sense it, anyway - he always does have a sixth sense for that kind of thing.  So, instead, she leans against him playfully, feeling the salty ocean breeze across her face as she looks up.  Roger smells of berries and the sea itself, she muses. 

“I brought you a gift,” he says. “Just a small welcoming present.  Don’t feel the need to pay me back.”

In her hands sits a box, placed there by the future Pirate King himself.  It’s a light box, simple, plain - a tangled mess she assumes is supposed to be a bowtie is tied on the front.  

“Rayleigh did that,” Roger lies. 

Curious, she removes the bow and opens the box.  

Chocolates.  Dozens of them littered inside - it’s not exactly a pre-brought box, and she notices a couple of them are half-eaten, but the sentiment is enough for her.  Smiling, she picks up a piece (not one of the half-eaten ones, she doesn’t want to know whose fault that was) and plops it into her mouth.

The chocolate instantly melts inside, the sweet sensation - with a hint of salt from the ocean breeze - bringing pure bliss to her mouth.  B savoured the taste, having not tasted some since - when was the last time she had some?  Whitebeard didn’t usually have it on his ship, so there was a very real possibility it was before then.  She is at least grateful it’s milk chocolate too - not too sweet, and not too bitter.  She swallows, and grins.

“You know the best way to a girl’s heart is by chocolates, huh?” B says, munching down on another one.  

Roger shrugs. “If anyone tells you I only got you them so I could snitch them off you, they’re lying,” he says, but in a playful manner, so B assumes he’s joking around.  

“Oh?  And just who ate half of these already?”

“I told you, Rayleigh.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” Roger whistles, averting his eyes from B.  B sets the box of chocolates down and leans over to his field of vision.  He looks the other way, and B leans the other way.  Finally, he looks up, seemingly intently focused on the clouds, and B kicks him in the shin because he’s only looking where B cannot go, and he knows B is not tall enough for that, and - oh, dear God, B just kicked the future King of the Pirates.  The captain of the Roger Pirates.  Roger himself.

He’s hissing in pain, hopping on one leg and holding his other knee close to his chest as he rubs it.  For a moment, B’s confused - honestly, she didn’t hit him that hard, did she?  

But he’s glancing over at her expectantly every-so-often, pausing in-between moans of pain, as if he’s expecting her to do something.  Like nurse him.

B rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” she says, and begins her walk towards the kitchen to get an ice pack.  Not for Roger, of course.  

* * *

They’d found themselves soaring high up into the sky, much higher than anything they’d ever seen before -  not even Reverse Mountain, according to those who were there back when they traversed up it - could compare to the sheer height of Skypiea.  The Oro Jackson had survived the knock-up stream (with, thankfully, no one hurt) and the citizens greeted them with curiosity and wonder.

Now, they’re scattered over Angel Beach, sipping on pumpkin smoothies and enjoying the brief period of relaxation that has been bestowed upon them.  The Roger Pirates almost feel right at home here.  Almost.

B sips on her smoothie - it’s okay, she thinks, she doesn’t dislike it.  But she doesn’t particularly love it either.  Pumpkin isn’t exactly a tropical drink.  It doesn’t fit the mood right.  Sighing, she leans back on the lounge chair until she was laying on her back, staring at the cloudless sky.  

If memory serves her correctly - which, honestly, had been somewhat of a struggle as time passed - this is the time that Roger carves his name into the Poneglyph.  Which means that their journey had reached somewhat of a halfway point.  That, eventually, Roger would… well.  The thought sours her mood completely, leaving her brooding away from the rest of the crew and glitching ever-so-slightly.  If the others notice, they don’t say a word - save for Shanks, who wants to know if B would like to watch him drop a crab down Buggy’s shorts.  She denies, and he runs off, looking mildly concerned for her.

A sigh passes through her lips.

“Beli for your thoughts?” The voice of her captain surprises her, almost causing her to drop her smoothie. “Wait - don’t tell me.  I don’t wanna hear spoilers.”

“I almost dropped my smoothie,” B says, turning to give Roger an unamused glance. 

“Ah, but you didn’t!” Roger replies, sipping on his own drink - a conasshu, one of the locals had called it.  He looks a bit ridiculous, with a hibiscus planted in his hair, his open shirt stitched together with a tropical flora pattern, and swimming shorts to top the look all off.  Even his sandals scream tourist. “Shanks told me you were looking a bit down - everyone did, really.”

“Oh.”

There’s an awkward silence that passes between them.  B finishes off the last of her drink, the slurping sound seeming like thunder in her head.  Then, white noise.  Even when  Roger yells something to Buggy, distracting the poor boy for a brief moment.

Buggy yelps in pain.

Almost instantly, the silence is broken, broken by Roger’s laughter and his absolute joy in the scene in front of him, and B forgets about everything, and laughs too.

“By the way, present for you,” Roger says, handing over a piece of chocolate. “We found some on Jaya.  Thought you’d appreciate it.”

B takes it and frowns.

“Someone’s taken a bite out of it,” she says.

“Yeah, I told Rayleigh not to, but you know how he is.”  Roger grins, placing his hands on his hips and shining brighter than even the sun - a difficult thing to do this high up in the atmosphere. “Always stealing food, that damn first mate.”

“Rayleigh, huh,” B repeats.  She takes a bit out of the chocolate - it’s a bit too bitter for her tastes, but it’s fine.

Roger gasps. “Indirect kiss!”

“Oh, shut up.”

* * *

The bell rings.  Once, twice, thrice - then, there’s the muffled jeers, the cries of joy that are distant and oh-so-cruel.  

B sits by herself, alone at a bar, and downs another glass of whiskey.  She doesn’t know where the rest of the crew are now.  Maybe they’ve scattered all over the place.  Maybe some of them have settled down.

A half-melted, half-eaten chocolate, still wrapped in foil, sits in her pocket.

[furymint]

All Prompts

#02: Sway

#03: Muster

#06: Bonus

#08: Clamor

#09: Lush

#12:  Tooth & Nail

#15: Ache

#16: Lucubration

#20: Bonus

#22: Argy-Bargy

#24: Beam

Header  | Reflection of some of my favorite peers’ prompts under the cut!

@aethernoise​ -- #11: Ultracrepidarian

tired curses!!!! i also really love this contrast in their work..... its rly cute. alyx just saved the world and aymeric is hating the dictionary. i like how rough his narration is and then alyx calls and everything speeds up, and i especially love him staring into the empty room. it put another contrast between their circumstances, but its also rly damn accurate abt how it feels to share a moment over the phone w someone. it made me smile a lot

@ahlis-xiv​ -- #23: Shuffle

this one made me laugh ksjdf ahlis’ distaste for the saucer despite being drawn to it is hysterical, but it also mirrors a lot of her character flaws: avoiding vulnerability, placing stoicism before genuineness, planting her frustration on external things instead of herself. even confronting her own feelings draws some curses out of her, and i love that display of her personality.

@autochthonousone -- #09: Nonagenarian

i love me some reflection and mentorship. also im obsessed with “let ‘lone this ‘n”.........dialect is such a hit or miss thing when writing or reading, but god youve got it and i love that line so much. barry’s relationship w stalwart is even better tho, and i cant repeat enough how much i love their dynamic of fair/stern/wise and distant/brutish/actually-paying-complete attention.

@brave-horizon -- #12: Tooth & Nail

talk abt using the setting..............i rly struggle w incorporating setting so this was a little mind-blowing to me. we got a really cool action scene plus established an entire town and conflict all at once?? battle scenes are hard. but ur vocab is so precise and stuff like “seized midstride” and “spilling its pilot” are rly inspiring me rn!! wind magic is smth ive brainstormed in the past but u have such good ideas w it and im so pumped just rereading it. its so good

@erstwhile25 -- #05: Matter of Fact

oh my god. some kind of dialogue god comes down and hands kail all his words, or else he’s just the dialogue god himself. im leaning towards the latter. i wish to god i could say “very small dogs with the barest streaks of sanity” in daily life, and honestly i might start to. the crew of the rook are always a joy to see + the development of their conversation takes such a meaningful turn that it really sticks after the laughs

@endangered-liaison​ -- #05: Matter of Fact 

sorry not sorry jaejh is cool!!!! he’s super nasty and terrible and interesting and i loved his voice, but i esp love how well he pushed the conflict and just Ruined Everything. i rly live how his influence bleeds into the others through their fear. The kids go from hoping or expecting to smth better, to not even debating that he’s lying bc it will just turn out worse. the berry stains as a gun on the wall never struck me either, and i was SHOOK

@high-and-away -- #10: Avail

honestly this was the hardest one to pic a fav for. i rly loved so many of these bc they check a lot of boxes for my Brand. this one sits the longest with active conflict + does a fantastic job staying clear despite all the trails it picks up w max’s foil n comradeship, the chocobo’s higher level of pity over people, the chaotic pack of Resistance members, and the highlander that vicky reasons over n kills. i love that word “limning” now; ur vocab always finds ways to surprise me w the way u use them (esp in describing settings)

@holyja -- #03: Muster

usually when i think of lizzy writing, i think of how perfect ur verbs are, but this time i really liked the visuals and tone. hyana pushing food around her plate and sitting on the rooftops had such a lonely feel to them, but at the same time were rly enjoyable and clear imgs despite not having to be described forever. serella’s dialogue was perfectly on-the-nose, too. usually i rly linger on what is given too much detail, but this rly showed me how nice it is to air things out n leave the thought monologue unsaid.

@karoiseka --  #24: Beam

hell yeah memory lane time. i loved seeing CT from karo’s pov and seeing where her priorities lay or moved. i also liked the life u gave to the little parts left untouched by the narrative, like walking through CT and the heartbeat in the soul vessel. idk what could be more satisfying that a reunion either, so following karo into the ocular was some Good Shit

@mythrilreflections -- #15: Ache

does this get bonus points just for being in o’ghomoro? yes. i love how the tunnels are characterized by the senseless kobolds in them. the added pressure from their reasonings for being in this hellhole is even better, and i love the sigils concept. jace’s narration is so cold, too, which makes both the kobold’s ferocity and the team’s desperation more poignant: he doesn’t sound the type to exaggerate.

@norhimorovine -- #14: Part

this one just screams fairy tale to me. the others do too, but the repetition of events rly knocks this one up the flagpole of ‘belongs in some mid 19th century kids story collection.’ i LOVE the sisters’ banter, and how the younger daughter gets incorporated a bit further for her attention. having the soldier take little pieces of each environment to prove they were real made them a lot more real to me, too.

@snowbird-down -- #03 Muster

if u think im NOT gonna lose my mind shrieking over stream of consciousness as one of the #1 ways of writing trauma, u have not been around me for very long. the varying sentence length is rly successful here, and i esp love the part where people are rushing into the ship and she has to stab a dude to keep him from coming aboard. it’s such a back and forth determining who is humanity and who is the faceless antagonist for a minute, n ofc i love that.

@stars-bleed-hearts-shine​ -- #28 -- Irenic

i was p surprised that my fav of urs came so late, but i feel like this piece has a lot of what your really good at, and which i admire a lot: you aren’t afraid of emotional dialogue or arguments based in more than factual debate, and you capitalize on casual thoughts that reveal a lot more than they do at face value. i esp like that you rly make the most of two characters that overlap in values and personality so often--they acknowledge that overlap and work together with what they share.

@yunkinko​ -- #05 Matter of Fact

im gonna forget abt that little rat line bc the last line is a kick in the teeth. i always admire ur ability to expand tiny details into lasting events. x’arhll’s musings also cut so different from the rest of the scene, separating her from the others and mhifa even further from her, so i love that contrast. the “arc of water” stayed with me for a while too.

[sereina-archive]

roseli berry —— do any of your muse’s pokémon hold particularly deep bonds with another teammate? if so, what kind of bonds? which pokémon?

POKÉMON BERRY HEADCANONS | accepting!

Oh yes definitely. Serena's main team that she traveled through Kalos with are all very close. They've all spent so much time together, and been through traumatic events together, so they've naturally bonded super deep with one another. It's to the point where they can work together flawlessly in double battle situations, not even needing to communicate. They all innately know what one another is thinking and what they will do.

Everyone on Serena's main team was also close with Olympe. She was pretty much like the team 'mom', giving them advice on things and helping them train to get stronger. Joyeuse especially had a deep, health rivalry, and Olympe was the reason she pushed to grow so strong. Her death utterly crushed the team, and I've written a headcanon on that before.

Beyond that, her team has made some close bonds with other pokemon she's taken in. Like Snack and Bastion both bond over their love for gardening (and food), Calista and Joyeuse are the perceptive pokemon who know Way Too Much and talk about everything. Sunflower and Rose are the troublemakers, and Sunflower also has a healthy rivalry with Joyeuse (similar to what Joyeuse and Olympe had). Hyperion and Merlin have a lot of banter together when it comes to chess games and have bonded over their games. Loire and Rose have bonded, as Loire can sense when bad storms are coming and warn Rose ahead of time.

They all have little things they connect to each other with, and none of her pokemon have ever really hated one another or disliked one another at any point. They've gotten along considerably well, and their bonds with only deepen over time.

[shawnsassymendes]

Best Friend’s Brother ii

a/n: ik i said i wouldnt make a second part but a few people said they wanted one and i got to thinking and then this came about lol hope you like it 

synopsis: you spend the day with the Mendes family after your date with Shawn.

wc: 1.7k

{Masterlist in Bio}

part 1

____________________

The bell above the door rang as you and Aaliyah entered the little restaurant. You took a quick glance around at the tables to find Karen and Manny sitting in the corner booth already. They were looking at the menus as if they weren’t memorized by all of you by now. You nudged Aaliyah and motioned to where her parents were. 

“What are you getting this time?” She asked as you both walked towards the booth.

“Probably the blueberry pancakes. I got the eggs last time.” You mused out loud. “Or should I get the mixed berry waffles? They both come with a good bit of berries on the side. No never mind, I’m getting the pancakes.”

“Glad I could help you make that decision.” Aaliyah chuckled as you scooted into the couch against the wall. “Hey mum, hey dad.”

“Hey girls, how was your morning?” Manny asked, eyes still on the menu.

"Pretty good, you know Saturday mornings are my favorite.” You grinned.

Aaliyah scoffed and rolled her eyes playfully. “Ugh, such a sweet talker.” 

Every Saturday morning, you had a breakfast date with Aaliyah and her parents. Sometimes Shawn was included, and other times, like today, he wasn’t. And every Saturday morning, without fail, Karen would guess exactly what you and Aaliyah were going to order.

“Alright Auntie Karen, hit me.” 

“Hmm, let’s see. Aaliyah’s going to get the... she’s going to get the turkey sandwich with extra hash browns.” You turned to Aaliyah who nodded, not fazed that her mom knew what she was going to order. “And the cup of strawberries for desert.”

“That doesn’t count, she gets it every time. Now me.”

“You... I think you’re going to get the mixed berry waffles.” You opened your mouth to correct her, but she cut you off. “No no, don’t tell me! You’re going to get the umm the blueberry pancakes! I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Every time! How do you do it?” You exclaimed.

Karen laughed and waved you off. “Magic, darling”

The waitress came and took the orders from Manny with a look on her face that said ‘I know these people, but I’m not sure where from’. Something you were quite used to when going out with the Mendes family. After she left, Aaliyah chatted with her mom while you chatted with Manny, recounting the events of the past week the others didn’t know about.

There was a lull in the conversation when Manny received an important email he had to check and Aaliyah took out her phone to text her boyfriend. Karen cleared her throat and looked over at you. “So we uh, we thought Shawn might be joining us this morning for breakfast. Considering your date went well last night?”

Suddenly, Manny’s email wasn’t important anymore and Aaliyah’s conversation with Jordan was put on hold and all eyes were on you.

“Uh yeah, it went really well actually.” You smiled, ears heating up at the memory of last night. “He said he wanted to head to his apartment today, wanted to write something in the studio thing he’s got there.”

Karen and Manny made eye contact and smiled. “Mm, not surprising.” Karen mumbled.

“No, not at all.” Manny replied, picking up his phone and returning to his email. 

You raised your eyebrows in question and turned to Aaliyah. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged in response, “If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.”

You groaned and ran your hands through your hair. “I hate you guys and your secrets.” 

____________________

The drive back to the house was mostly uneventful. Manny insisted he play his music, which you found hilarious and Aaliyah found embarrassing. 

Karen was dropped off at her office on the way to take her car back home. Aaliyah called shotgun as soon as her mom got out of the car, leaving you alone in the backseat. You decided to take advantaged of the situation and take up the whole back seat. 

You took out your phone and saw that Shawn had replied to your good morning text while you were at breakfast.

shawnie boy: morning

shawnie boy: are you guys done with breakfast?

you: yea, heading home rn

you: you still at your apartment?

shawnie boy: why? do you miss me already?

you: maybe..

You definitely missed him already.

shawnie boy: ur cute

shawnie boy: i came home, brian stopped by to raid my fridge so i brought him with me

shawnie boy: hes staying for lunch

you: see u guys in a bit

As soon as you sent your reply, you received a text from someone else. You were going to swipe it away when you realized it was from Brian.

brian craigen (shawn’s friend): hey y/n

You quickly changed his redundant contact name before replying.

you: hey brian, whats up?

Brian never really texted you, not to say that you didn’t talk. He was Shawn’s best friend and you were Aaliyah’s. All four of you were almost always at their house. You were all very much a part of each other’s childhoods growing up. But he just never texted you. If he ever had something to say to you, he would just wait until he saw you next. There was never anything urgent in your conversations. 

So you had no clue why he was texting you right now.

brian criagen: are you texting shawn rn?

brian criagen: like currently

you: yea?

brian craigen: dude hes smiling at his phone mad hard rn

you: does everyone know this is going on?

brian craigen: everyone’s known since forever y/n dont kid yourself

you: oof was i that obvious?

brian craigen: you both were

“Hey, is the air on back there?” Manny called to you in the back, looking at you through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, it’s good.” You reassured him. 

He raised an eyebrow at you and turned it up a little more, regardless of your reply. “Are you sure? You’re face is really red, kid.”

“It’s because she’s texting Shawn.” Aaliyah teased in a sing-song voice.

“Am not!” Not fully a lie on your part.

“So she’s texting about Shawn. Same thing.”

Manny chuckled and shook his head at you and his daughter’s antics. 

When you got home, you saw Shawn’s car in the driveway. No one missed the way you perked up in your seat.

“Don’t get too excited.” Aaliyah smirked, fishing out her keys to the front door.

“Shut up.” You groaned and walked away from her and into the kitchen. You saw Brian on the couch and called out a ‘Hey, Brian’ in passing.

Shawn turned around as soon as he heard your voice. “Hey.” He smiled, cheeks the most adorable shade of pink and a steaming mug of what you knew was green mint tea in his hand. 

You hip checked him when you reached the counter and grabbed yourself a mug. Seeing his mug of tea made you want to make some of your favorite too.

“Hey.” You smiled. Shawn came to stand closer to you while you added some water to the kettle and pulled out a tea bag.

You hopped up on the counter as you waited for your water to boil. Shawn came to stand right in front of you and put his forearms on your shoulders. 

This wasn’t necessarily new, all the touching and close quarters, both of you always had a lack of needing personal space. At least around each other. But it felt new. He wasn’t your best friend’s brother who you secretly had a crush on anymore. But he wasn’t anything else at this point really. It was too early to tell.

Shawn leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You hummed, a ghost of a smile on your lips.

Shawn raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying the banter. “Oh, so we’re keeping secrets this early in our relationship?”

“Yup, I’m a tough cookie to crack. Can’t get me that easy.”

“I think I already know what’s got your mind working overtime.”

“Pray tell.”

“I think you wanna know what we are.” Shawn’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. He really didn’t want to have gotten that wrong.

You bit your lips at his words, shocked at how easily he could read you. “Am I that easy to read?”

“A little bit.” Shawn shrugged. “But maybe it’s also because I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

“Then what are we? It’s only been one date. Or two.”

“But it’s also been a decade. I know you like the back of my hand. Not something most people can say after one or two dates.”

“You are incredibly right Mr. Mendes. Whatever shall we do? Simply be pliant in the hands of a higher power?”

“It seems we have but no choice.” Shawn giggled, bumping his nose against yours. 

“Mm, good. I don’t like making choices. Too much thinking is required.”

“Then let me do the thinking for you.” Shawn leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. It wasn’t a needy kiss or an experimental kiss. It was just a kiss. Granted, it wasn’t a short one. It was like both of you were taking a crash course on what it’s like to feel loved by the other. Every kiss he gave you felt like it was waiting to happen since you first met. 

You didn’t know how long you were sat there on the counter, Shawn standing between your legs. You water had long finished boiling. The table that was clear when you first arrived was now fully set, courtesy of Aaliyah you presumed. 

Considering the fact that she was sitting right there.

“Uh, hi Liyah?” Shawn said, breaking the tension.

“Is this what I’m gonna have to deal with from now on?”

“Come on Aaliyah, we all knew this was gonna happen at one point.” Brian came up from behind her and patted her on the head, messing up her hair in the process. “I, for one, am glad the pining is over.”

“Oh, I’m definitely glad the pining is over.” Shawn smirked. “Cause now I can do this whenever I want.” He pulled you in for another kiss, completely disregarding his best friend and his sister being audience to the intimate moment.

Aaliyah balled up a napkin and threw at you and her brother. “I don’t really care, y’all know that. Just please, please, for the love of God, lock the door when you’re going at it!” Aaliyah laughed as she got up to set the food on the table. 

____________________

hello my lovelies! thankyou for reading and im so incredibly sorry for how long this took. if you could send me your favorite line from this fic it would make my day. feedback is greatly appreciated. this is a non au fic but i tried to make shawn’s fame as insignificant as possible cuz i just wanted it to be more natural you know. anyways. love you guys.

[titansandothersrp]

Good Morning

(This is a compiled roleplay between my Beast Boy muse and the Raven muse of @azarathian . This is a very old roleplay we wrote under different usernames, but I labeled our writing with our current usernames.)  

azarathian (Raven): An orange haze seeped through her bedroom window, and brushed against the lids of her eyes. The sleeping girl winced and curled into herself beneath the warmth of her duvet, clinging to her drowsy trance as best she could. However, the morning was persistent; Dawn’s climbing sun kissed the ocean’s breadth, casting its golden rays throughout her once dark haven with a radiant glow.

Reluctantly, her eyes fluttered open, and she was greeted with the rise of a new day. Despite the striking view beside her, Raven awoke with a groan. Her sleep had not been without struggle, and the night seemed now as if it were one rolling blur in her head. Pressing her hands to the mattress, she pushed herself up and proceeded to rub her tired eyes. She had woken before her alarm. It was due to go off in fifteen minutes, but she felt the attempt to drift back to sleep for such a brief time was pointless. In an hour, the girl would begrudgingly find herself in the tower’s training room along with the rest of her team for an early session, courtesy of their leader. Why he felt the need to drag them from bed only to endure rigorous practice was beyond her. Beyond all but himself, she imagined. Still, she had no intentions of defying his orders. And so pushing past the urge to stay soundly in bed, she rose and pressed on with getting ready for the upcoming day.

Clasping her cloak in place, Raven made for the main ops room to put together a decent breakfast for herself. After all, she’d need all her energy to get through the grueling work that was to follow. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): Surprisingly, Beast Boy was already awake when Raven entered the main room. He was dancing around in the kitchen, ingredients and utensils sprawled over the counter. He did a little spin, noticing Raven as he did. He gave her a wide smile.

“Deciding to be an early bird today, huh, Raven?” Yes, the pun was intentional. He resumed dance-cooking, hips swaying side to side as he measured ingredients and hummed to music that existed only in his head.

“Y’know. It’s a good thing you’re up. I started your tea, but I’m not sure I did it right. I followed the instructions, but tea isn’t really… my cup of tea.” He snickered. azarathian (Raven): She was immediately greeted with the familiar sprightly voice as she entered through the main doors. It had been entirely unexpected, and for a second the welcome spurred a subtle flinch as she swung to face its source. She couldn’t remember a time he’d been awake earlier than her, and the manner with which he seemed to flit about the kitchen suggested the premature rise was intentional. There was a brief pause following his greeting. Considering the state she’d last seen him in, this chipper persona seemed completely abrupt in its appearance. It was as though the tearful boy from last night had evaporated into nothing, and Raven had to consider for a second whether she had, in fact, dreamt the whole thing. Dazed, she wandered over to where he stood, careful to veil her inner confusion. The joke swept over her head like it was never said. “You’ve… made tea?” she questioned, observing the steaming kettle and mug set upon the counter. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): Huh. She didn’t roll her eyes at his puns. Maybe she was cutting him some slack today. He could live with that. “Yeah! You always have tea for breakfast. But I’m hoping you’ll be up for some waffles too. We have maple syrup, but I’m making some berry sauce too, if ya want it.” He popped a few blueberries he was using for the sauce in his mouth.

“Mm~ If you want some blueberries or raspberries, you better get some before I put ‘em in the sauce.” He worked on the batter. “I wonder if anyone’s ever made a falafel waffle. It probably wouldn’t taste very good, but I’d eat it, just because of the name.” azarathian (Raven): Well, someone was… chatty, this morning. Chattier than usual, in fact - and that was saying something for Beast Boy. He must’ve had a much sounder sleep than herself, but Raven couldn’t help but wonder what on earth had happened in the space between their talk on the roof and his awakening this morning to have the jokester so carefree once again? And making breakfast, of all things? The boy she knew would take sleeping in to making breakfast, and for others, at that, any day of the week. Her vision shifted down to the bowl of batter in his hands. On the counter to the right also sat something that looked like the workings of a sauce recipe.

For what felt like the umpteenth time in the space of a day, Beast Boy had his cloaked friend startled. She decided against asking him if he was okay - he clearly seemed it, and she didn’t want to intrude upon his good mood with expressions of the previous night. Taking a seat at the kitchen’s island table, she rose a brow at him. “How long have you been working on this?” It was, after all, just gone 6:00 A.M. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): She didn’t really respond to him that much. That was fine though, as he was used to it by now. She wasn’t swatting him upside the head or telling him he screwed up, so he felt he must be doing something right. Being reminded of the time caused him to yawn. “About fifteen minutes.” He yawned out. He gave her a slightly tired looking smile. “My sleep was a little messed up by that nap, so I woke up a few times. Decided I may as well get up and make breakfast. Thought it could be seen as a little thank you… And maybe a bribe not to tell the others about last night.” He chuckled nervously.

azarathian (Raven): Ah, so he hadn’t had the best night’s sleep either; but that didn’t seem to be stopping him from embracing the morning in high spirits. Perhaps she could take a leaf from his book. He’d had less sleep and was merrily making his way through cooking breakfast before she’d even left bed, after all. Even with the impending trial of combat practice looming before them, his smile was earnest as anything she’d seen. Unable to help the slight curve that crept upon her own lips, she internally assured herself that she hadn’t dreamt up the previous night. The ordeal had been entirely real, yet as she watched that same mirth light up his eyes, it was easy to tell that his recovery was just as much so. “The bribe wasn’t necessary,” she began, a stray hand reaching to the bowl of berries before bringing one to her mouth. “But I’m not gonna say no to a plate of waffles.” She hoped he could tell in the warmth of her tone that, without words, she’d already returned his thanks with a silent ‘you’re welcome’. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): Sure, he was tired, but his good mood kept him going. “Sweet!” He fist pumped in victory. “Honestly, I was worried about you having anymore blackmail on me.” He thought back on her reaction to learning his true name. Maybe she was just bluffing? “But that doesn’t seem to be a problem. Thanks, Rae~ Maybe I can trust you with more in the future.” He spoke the last bit without thinking. It could have been the lack of sleep or just Beast Boy being Beast Boy. Either way, the fact he had more to say was out. Even so, he tried to change the subject. “I’m not used to being up this early, are you? Usually, Robin has to pound on my door a million times to wake me up.” He blinked in realization before a wicked smile grew on his face. “How long you think Robin will try to wake a Beast Boy who isn’t there?”

azarathian (Raven): Truth be told, though she’d claimed to make full use of discovering the teen’s unusual birth name, she hadn’t as of yet. Mileage as good as that was something precious; there would be a time and a place to bring it up again, but that time had yet to pass… Nonetheless, it was the possession of the blackmail that was important. Not essentially the employing of it. “Thanks, Rae~ Maybe I can trust you with more in the future.” She wasn’t sure why that broadened her smile, but it did. It was a nice change, talking to him like this, one on one. Though their banter had become something inherent, it wasn’t always necessary. Sometimes it was just nice to… talk. “Maybe,” she said. But upon hearing what next left those grinning lips, she grew instantly curious, and her expression merely conveyed the suspicion within.

“… What did you do?” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): “Oh, I wish I’d done something,” he whined. “All I did was wake up early. I could have rigged my door or something!” He sighed. “Oh well. It should be funny enough to watch him bang on my door for five minutes straight.” He checked the watch on his right wrist. “He’ll probably try to wake me any minute. I don’t have to worry about anything burning right now. Wanna watch?!”

“It’ll be fuuuun~” azarathian (Raven): She presumed for any early morning start, Robin, being the control freak he was, would ake it upon himself to wake the ever-lazy titan from his drooling doze. But give the boy his due, he was right; for once, Beast Boy was awake before any of them, so that would mean their relentless leader could likely be found standing outside the door to an empty room and talking to someone who wasn’t even there. “Oh, I am not missing this,” she smirked without a second thought.

It took no more convincing for the girl to be on her feet and making for the door. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He grinned widely and dashed to the corridor. Gripping the corner leading to his room, he peered over.

Their spiky haired leader was, in fact, coming down the hall.

He shushed Raven, despite her not making any noise, before returning his gaze to their leader. “Beast Boy, it’s time to get up.” There was no response, of course. “Beast Boy!” He knocked on the door and was greeted with more silence. “What; no ‘five more minutes, mom’?” He growled and tapped his foot, waiting for a response. “Beast Boy, get up!” He banged on the door this time. azarathian (Raven): She looked down at the gloved finger pressed to her lip, accompanied by a stern ‘shhhh’. Ironic how by shushing her, he was making more noise than she’d actually made to begin with. Still, she obliged, eyeing the masked boy as he stopped outside Beast Boy’s door. Her mouth twitched as the two watched him yell out to no one. To see Robin embarrass himself was a rare sight; one to definitely be cherished when it came around. Robin’s arms crossed in impatience, his mask forming a look of agitation. You could tell he’d had to go through a knocked-out Beast Boy many mornings before. It truly was like the boy wonder was his mom. “Come on!” he hollered again, a forceful fist pummeling the door. Raven stifled a snort, cautious to maintain their stealth. “Okay, here’s your warning: if you don’t answer in three, I’m coming in!… One… Two…” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy):

The changeling was having difficulty stifling his laughter, but he managed. For once, he was happy Robin was insistent and wouldn’t just let him sleep in. “Three!” The boy wonder barged into the changeling’s room, thoroughly confused when he saw no one in there. “Huh?” He lifted up the green teen’s covers in search of him. Nothing. Then the top bunk. Nothing. “Beast Boy, this is no time for one of your pranks!” As hilarious as this was, he couldn’t leave it at that. “Watch this.”

He whispered before he became a mouse and sneaked into his own room. Once he made it to his bed, he returned to human form.

“Dude, it’s always time for my pranks.” Before their baffled leader could turn around, the changeling became a barely visible insect, hidden among the messy bedding. azarathian (Raven): She was peeking round the edge of the door now, unable to deny her curiosity for what he’d do next. She watched the scene transpire; how a confused Robin stood in the room’s center, completely missing the mouse that scurried up behind him. How that mouse morphed back into the green boy so he could say his line only to disappear once their leader flailed and turned around in shock. Robin’s wail at the sudden voice was something you’d wish you had on camera. The wide-eyes of his mask, the stagger, and the open mouth once he swiveled to find no one behind him. “Beast Boy!” he squawked in anger. From her hiding place around the open door’s edge, Raven caught herself in a completely impulsive laugh. At the sight, it had simply flew from her chest into the open, a hand lifted in a failed attempt to cover it.

“Raven?!” Robin wailed again, abruptly aware of the new presence at the door and face full of surprise. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): This would normally be the time where Beast Boy began laughing. However, when he returned to human form, he immediately darted to Raven instead. “I did it! I finally did it! I made you laugh!”

“I made you laugh on purpose! And you weren’t laughing at me! And it wasn’t an emoticlone! It’s you! The real you! You’re laughing at one of my pranks! You do think I’m funny! I can’t believe it! I’ve been trying to make you laugh since we first met and I finally did it! My whole life has led up to this moment! The girl who never laughs laughed! Because of me! I made you laugh! And smile! On purpose!” He looked so happy he could cry. Robin, meanwhile, was thoroughly confused. “Since when do you take part in Beast Boy’s pranks?” azarathian (Raven): Her smile quickly melted to reveal a stunned stare as she leaned back from his approach. That had… not been what she’d expected to follow. Unsure of how to react, of what to even do, her eyes flitted to Robin, then back to Beast Boy, then to Robin as the two gaped at her - each for very different reasons. “… What?” she uttered. “It was funny.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): The changeling couldn’t stop grinning, but he did manage to finally shut up. “I should finish making breakfast.” He practically floated out of the room, elated. “I got a laugh from Raven~ Now it’s time to make what everyone’s cravin~ Waffles~ Waffles~ Life without would be awful….s~” Well, he tried. Robin just rubbed his temple and shook his head. “I’m funny~ Worth your money~ Which I look like ‘cause I’m green~ Shape shifting epic teen~ Heart of the team~” azarathian (Raven): Both Robin and Raven’s gaze clung to the prankster as he paraded off down the corridor, both at a total loss for words.

Finally, as his singing withered away down the halls, Raven broke the silence. “Weirdo…” Almost as if the past few minutes hadn’t happened, she followed on past Robin down the same corridor, intent for the kitchen where breakfast would be. And it was like that giggling girl at the door had taken a trip. “Wait,” Robin halted, before jogging to catch up with her. Walking beside the empath, he looked to her, confused. “What was that?” “What?” “Since when do you get in on Beast Boy’s pranks? Since when do you laugh at them?” Inquisition was written into his face, a hooked brow creasing his forehead. Raven took a second, then shifted her own gaze to meet his. “Since you became such an easy target,” she smirked, proud, before wandering off ahead and leaving the boy to just ogle in her wake. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): After breakfast, it was time for training. An emotional release last night, a good breakfast that morning, and a laugh from Raven left Beast Boy in the best of moods. Even if he hadn’t slept properly the night before, he leaped right into training. He exercised his various animal forms, stopping occasionally to cheer on his team mates. “Woo! Blast ‘em Cy! Go, Raven! Magic those drones!”

He acted as though he’d just realized his powers and his team and couldn’t get enough of them. This wound up distracting him, however, and he broke one of the machines not to be broken. “Uh-oh…”

He soon realized his blunder. Some things on the training grounds are meant to be broken. Others, however, are meant to be kept in tact. Robin was definitely going to chew him out for this. azarathian (Raven): Raven couldn’t have been more grateful for the breakfast he’d made her. With a plate full of syrupy waffles and a hot brew of tea, she managed to summon the will to tackle training head-on. In fact, the often apathetic titan found herself in a particularly good mood this morning; a rewarding contrast to the dreadful one she’d fallen asleep in. She couldn’t say for sure, but still regarded the likeliness that another certain team member’s energy was rubbing off on her a touch.

With hood raised, Raven soared through the drone-mine arena, sensing the swarm of threatening bots upon her. Halting in flight to face the horde, she shielded herself with a black guard before propelling it forward to smash against each and every droid. They shattered to the floor in a roaring crash, and she lowered till her feet touched ground. Unsure as to why, she felt her eyes drift over to the boy who’d been cheering her on, expecting to see him elated. But instead, he looked concerned and flustered at something… so she wandered over to see what was wrong. “You oka–” When her sight caught the busted machine, the brand new one that had been specially designed to work against each titans’ abilities, she halted. “… Smooth.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): “Smooth like my Rocky Road non dairy ice cream…”

“Robin’s gonna kill me!”

He grabbed her and slid down her frame as though he was dying. “It was nice knowing you while it lasted! Make sure Starfire doesn’t overfeed Silkie! Tell my wife I loved her!” He slid all the way down, lying face first on the ground. It was an oscar worthy performance, he thought to himself. The changeling continued to lie face first on the ground as death their leader approached. “What’s going on over-” He caught the sight of the destroyed machine. “Our new training machine! We just got that!” azarathian (Raven): She lowered her hood and leaned in to get a better look. He’d really done a number on it, but she thought against questioning why. Sometimes, in training, these things just happen… It was just unfortunate for Beast Boy that this had happened to the one new machine Robin had been praising and raving over since its arrival. “Yep. You’re dead.” She didn’t even try to disagree, even as he proclaimed his theatrical speech, sliding down her cloak with all the grace of an elephant.

As Robin advanced upon the two, funeral bells were practically audible. “It was a good life,” she said. “Our new training machine! We just got that!” Initially, she braced for the tirade of abuse that the boy at her feet was about to endure, then suddenly remembered the previous night. Like a hit to the face, the memories of what he’d said about himself - about feeling worthless and like the least valued member of the team, about how she was so much more important than himself, about how the only thing he could do was push his jokes upon his friends - came flooding over her. And almost instinctively, she found herself doing something she’d never done before. “It was me,” she said, meeting her leader’s eyes. “It was an accident, but I’ll right it. Don’t worry.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): She was taking the fall?! He couldn’t believe it. Beast Boy tilted his head just slightly so he could look up and see the scene unfold. “You?!” The leader practically erupted into flames, not caring that she claimed she could make it right. He was practically infatuated with that machine. “How could you?! We just got that machine! You knew how important it was! I’d expect this kind of recklessness out of Beast Boy, but you know better!” Robin looked to the green teen lying on the ground. “This is no time for a nap, Beast Boy! I don’t care if you made breakfast this morning, that won’t excuse you from training!” He wouldn’t usually be this harsh, but he was speaking out of anger. azarathian (Raven): “Are you done?” Subconsciously, she understood Robin’s reproach. Like the rest of them, he’d been up earlier than any merry person should ever be up. He was probably drained, tetchy, and on edge as Robin often was anyway. And perhaps if this were happening a week ago, she’d have kept to herself and not even thought to confront her leader. But at this time, knowing what she now knew, the agitation she felt from his words was slipping from her like a stream.

“I said I’ll right it. There’s no need to bring others into it. It’s just a machine.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): The spiky hair teen stared her down for a moment, before turning with a huff. “Fine. Right it. But be careful next time.” He turned to walk off. As Robin left, Beast Boy stood up and started to dust himself off. This all seemed so strange. Raven taking the fall for him and claiming that his mistake, though believed to be hers, is no big deal, was something he’d never thought she’d do. He was a little at loss for words. azarathian (Raven): She honestly wasn’t sure how she’d right it, but the thought was but a small, fleeting thing in her mind in that moment. Even as he marched away from her, she eyed the back of his head, patience still worn thin. “And by the way,” she found her mouth open and talking words she hadn’t intended to once again. “Beast Boy’s ‘recklessness’ has helped out on more than one occasion.” By the pause in his step, she assumed he’d heard her, but he hadn’t stopped to respond, merely exiting in his signature lone-wolf mood. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): Beast Boy stared at the pale teen with wide eyes. Not only would she not allow Beast Boy to insult himself, she wouldn’t allow anyone else to either. At least, for now. She cared more than he ever thought she did. His eyes seemed to sparkle as he thought about all of this. “Raven…” He spoke once their leader was out of earshot. “I was gonna ask why you did that, but I already know the answer. I’m sorry I ever thought you didn’t care about me. I care about you too. I hope I’ve made it obvious by this point.” He smiled at her. “We really are friends, even if I’ve had my doubts. And you know what friends do?” He smirked and took a battle stance, looking playfully determined.

azarathian (Raven): “We really are friends, even if I’ve had my doubts. And you know what friends do?” She took a step back at the changeling’s position, but quickly recovered with an inquisitive brow and her weight leaning to one hip. “Uh… fight?” Friends fight. Something about that sounded a bit wrong. But by his stance, what else could he be suggesting? titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): “Yeah! Friends that fight together, stay together!” He stood up and grinned at her excitedly. He meant to imply friends fight others together, but he didn’t word it quite right. “We need to come up with a wicked combo move! No more of you just saving my butt, we kick butt together!” He bounced up and down excitedly. “C’mon! Star can fly Robin for aerial attacks, I can fly Cy for aerial attacks, Robin and Cyborg have the sonic boom, we need a combo move!” azarathian (Raven): “Hey,” Raven retorted. “You’ve saved mine too. You know, once or twice.” The tug at her lips reassured she was just teasing. Now that he mentioned it, the only other titan Raven shared a combo move with was Starfire. The only other he shared one with was Cyborg. But that had always suited her fine; she wasn’t one much for fusing her powers with another’s, but she couldn’t think of a good reason why not to try. Maybe something good could come out of it. “If you can think of something, I’m up for trying it… Just try not to take it out on any more machines?” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He chuckled, knowing she was just teasing. He scratched the back of his head. “I won’t, I won’t. Honestly, I have no idea.” He lightly knocked his fist against his head. “C’mon, wooork!” He tried to think of Raven’s powers and how they could work with his own. He held up a finger with a grin. “Ah-ha!” He had an idea. “You can move others. And fast. I can turn into the fastest animals out there, but I either take time to reach top speed or tire quickly. If you could move me at top speed, I could turn into something huge at the last second and hit them like a giant bullet!” azarathian (Raven): Envisioning his description in a battle scenario, she sketched out the impact it would have on an enemy in her mind. And when she played it all out… it actually seemed to come together. “That could work,” she said, surprised he’d come up with something so quickly. “Like a discus throw. I launch you as something small on an energy plate to give the momentum, and at the last second you become something big…” Her thoughts wandered for a moment, until they hit another notion. “What if whatever you turned into on impact had a horn? Like a rhino or a narwhal? It’d act as a javelin, in a way…” Raven looked to him for his approval. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He had a good idea? He had a good idea! He celebrated internally at the thought. And maybe a little externally. His eyes and smile widened at Raven’s addition. “Dude! That’s genius! But which one? If I’m a narwhal, I’ll have a longer and straighter horn. If I’m a rhino, I’ll have a thicker horn, but shorter and curved.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe narwhal for precision, rhino for strength?” azarathian (Raven): “I’ll let you be the judge for the situation,” she reasoned, a sense of triumph washing over her. That could actually be a really effective move. Perhaps they should’ve thought of it sooner, she mused. “We should probably… practice outdoors, though.” A giant, horned creature propelling through the tower would surely do nothing for their leader’s already foul mood. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He chuckled. “Yeah. Maybe we can practice just the small animal part for now.” Once they’d agreed on a battle plan, they resumed training together. Despite the lack of sleep, today was looking to be a great day. And it wouldn’t have been without such a great friend. {Fin}

[theimaginesyouneveraskedfor]

Dead of Night

A continuation of:

Ring of Fire

Heart of Gold

Chain of Fools

Sky Full of Stars

Out of the Blue

You stood in the kitchen that Thorin had built you. It was nicer than you deserved. He was nicer than you deserved. A king now that Thrain was gone. Yet despite his claims, you did not feel a queen. You barely felt like a wife in this empty house. 

Well, not exactly then. Your nephew Ralin was awaiting you in his high chair, pounding his small fist impatiently for the meal you had promised him. You set the bowl of berries before him and he grunted hungrily. He smushed one into his mouth messily and grabbed another. Like his father, Dwalin, he was ravenous in his appetites. He also preferred your apple tart to anything else. He focused on his food, his blue eyes just as bright as Raina's. The child also shared her impetuous nature; as demanding and stubborn as both parents.

Your womb had yet to quicken. It was not an uncommon struggle for dams but you were not only letting down your husband but his people. Why, he had married outside his own people, choosing a lowly and thus far barren dam from the Blue Mountains. Since his father had departed, his status had become all the more obvious. Hushed conversations with Dwalin and his brother, Balin. Midnight messages from dwarves far away but hailing from the same stolen mountain.

You smiled at Ralin, red and blue smears across his lips and cheeks. Raina would have been having a fit, endlessly tending to his mess though he would only only make more before he was done. You had volunteered to watch your nephew so that your mother could attend to the stall with her youngest daughter. You were left with the dwarfling as Thorin and Dwalin shared their weekly, almost ritualistic ale. 

When Ralin finished his berries, you wiped his hands and face clean as he resisted and giggled. He was a cheerful dwarfling despite his father’s innate demeanour. You lifted him from the high chair which sat empty and forgotten in the corner when he was not visiting. The door opened behind you, steps unheard on the back steps. Thorin entered and paused as you held your nephew, resting him on your hip and he touched your nose playfully.

“Hmmm,” Thorin chuckled as he kicked the dust from his boots, “Having fun?”

“Not just yet but maybe if you take him for a few minutes, I just might,” You teased.

“Come on,” He neared you, kissing your forehead as you kept Ralin from squirming, “You’re the best aunt he could ask for. I could only imagine--”

“Don’t.” You ordered before he could finish. You knew what he was going to say. He always said it. You hated it. It reminded you of how you were disappointing him. Of the helplessness you felt every month when your time came; uninterrupted and unchanged.

You turned and passed through into the living room, setting Ralin in the small pen Thorin had fashioned for him. You knew he wished it could be used for his own young one. Just like the high chair and the crib he thought you didn’t know about. Hidden in Dis’ shed beneath a sheet, waiting for a day which was not likely to come.

“I’m sorry,” He said quietly as he came up behind you. His hand rested on your hips as his nose brushed the top of your head. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sorry I can’t make you happy.” You whispered.

“Y/N,” He hissed, grabbing your elbow and forcing you to turn to face him. His blue eyes burned yours and his hand found your chin as he cradled your face. “You make me happy. There hasn’t been a day since I’ve known you that I haven’t been entirely content.”

“It took Dis what? Months? And my sister, she was with child before she even had a betrothal,” You took his hand from your chin and held it, “I can’t help but feel unworthy.”

“Never,” Thorin breathed.

“I’m not a queen,” You rasped, “This is no palace.”

“It is because I built it for you,” He pulled you against him, embracing you warmly, “You are my queen and all I’ll ever need. I will never doubt you so please, have faith in me in kind.”

“I do,” You assured him, basking in his warmth, “It’s...hard.”

Ralin babbled and a wooden block clattered against the side of his pen. You looked to him and smiled despite the tightness in your throat. “I think he’s jealous,” Thorin mused.

Dis had arrived unexpectedly, you and Thorin having only just returned from your father's forge. You smelled of sweat and metal. She had knocked not long after your own entrance. Thorin had already fallen into the dark blue armchair he called his own. He did not rise so you were the one to receive his sister and her son.

Despite everything, you often found yourself keeping company with a child or two. If it wasn't Ralin, it was Fili. The youngest Durin and current heir to the bloodline took after his father. His blonde hair and green eyes marked him as peculiar among most dwarves. You were already certain he'd grow into a handsome prince. He was already clever, too.

Fili raced across the floor the moment Dis set him down. Ever since he had gained his legs, he had not ceased to cause trouble. You followed him and pulled out the chest of toys kept for your nephew's visits. He took a block eagerly and began his childish games, making noises as his imagination carried him away.

“A most unexpected visit, sister,” Thorin grumbled, chin in his hand lazily.

“Vinor should be along soon,” She placated. “Then you can share an ale and forget your troublesome wives.”

“He's always like this after work,” You rebuked. “Especially when he tried to show me how to do my work.”

“I was merely trying to help my dear wife,” He smirked.

“By getting in the way?” You countered.

“Helping you refine your practice,” He teased.

“Really?” You put your hand on your hip as you stared him down, “I’ve been forging since I could hold a hammer. What, my father cursed with two daughters, he had to make due with me.”

“Blessed, is what I’d say,” Thorin sat up, “Me, too, in that I can bask in the pleasures of his creation.”

“Quiet,” You chided and turned back to Dis, “Tea?”

“Might as well. Vinor’s never been particularly timely.” She accepted as she sat on the sofa a bit more heavily than you would expect.

“Thorin?” You asked over your shoulder as you headed to the kitchen.

“I’ll take that ale,” He called after you.

“Then you’ll pour it yourself,” You sang back.

You went about heating up the kettle and pouring two cups for your and your sister-in-law. By the time the scent of steamed herbs rose in your nostrils, your fatigue had made itself known. The day caught up with you as you passed back into the den, setting Dis’ brew beside her on the table as she watched her son and brother on the floor.

Thorin had moved from his presumed throne, laying across the carpet as he held his nephew over him, the dwarfling giggling as he was maneuvered through the air. Your husband tossed him and caught him with ease, his own deep chuckles mingling with the delighted squeals of Fili. You smiled at the scene, a knock keeping it from fully blooming.

You set down your cup on the mantle above the hearth and disappeared into the small hallway. Vinor greeted you with a peck on your cheek and a mumbled hello. He was always soft-spoken, at least without ale in his veins, and a humble dwarf to boot. He was not much like his brother-in-law. Thorin was outspoken, sometimes too much, whereas Vinor spoke only when he thought needed.

“My wife,” You followed him back into the den as he crossed to his wife, sitting beside her carefully as he stretched his arms over her shoulders and pulled Dis to him. He kissed her forehead before relaxing against the sofa and turning to watch Thorin and his son in their wrestling match.

“Well, Thorin,” Vinor shared a knowing look with Dis before he began. She gave a small nod, for once letting him do the talking. A strong tongue ran in her family. “I hope he’s not tiring you out too much.”

“Not at all,” Thorin replied as Fili leaped onto his back, “He keeps me sharp.”

“Then another wouldn’t be any trouble to fend off then, eh?” Vinor’s cheeks turned rosy and he grinned as he took his wife’s hand and squeezed it. “Another nephew to keep you young?”

“Another?” Thorin held Fili at bay as his mouth fell open. He looked up at Dis, his haired hanging messily around his face from his struggle. Her hand touched the stomach of her gown. You had only just recognized the garment. It was one which she had worn when she had first begun to ground round with her first child. “Why, I think that would be more to my advantage than Fili’s. I could use an ally.”

You swallowed and took your tea quickly, hiding your dismay behind it as you sipped. You weren’t unhappy, only, well you weren’t sure how to explain it. You were happy for Dis and yet that pit inside your chest deepened. You felt even more empty as you watch Fili reached out for his uncle once more. You held back the snapping jealousy and forced a smile across your lips, clearing your throat. It all came so easily for the true princess.

“What lovely news,” You chimed, “Ralin would loved yet another playmate. Why the three of them together might just knock some sense into my husband.”

“Ralin?” Thorin exclaimed dramatically, “I forgot about that little monster. Already as fearsome as his father…and mother.”

“Indeed,” Dis agreed, “A trio of royal cousins.”

“A strong future for our people,” Thorin said, “Durin and Fundin will rule once again.”

You kept silent as you eyes burned and your throat tightened. You were suddenly overwhelmed and the tea was bitter on your tongue. You set aside your cup again and forced away the bile rising within. “I should begin dinner before we get to distracted,” You intoned, “We can celebrate over some roast beef. My mother’s own recipe.”

“And some maple tart, my love,” Thorin added.

“If there is any left,” You returned as you neared the doorway, “After your midnight snacking.”

“There is another in the pantry. I know you always make extra.” He bantered, “And I always find that one, too.”

You shook your head at his last jape and left them behind. Entering the kitchen, you crossed to the counter and gripped its edge, bracing yourself as you forced the breath from your lungs slowly. You should be happy for Dis, you should feel this way. You were still young; still able. You just had to be patient.

Even so, you felt so inadequate. What was king without an heir?

Kili was born in the summer. He was his mother’s son; with dark hair and a demanding nature, but sweet. Ralin and Fili were happy for another friend though it made days when you minded them all the more hectic. But those times grew few and far between. You had retreated to your father’s forge for fear of yourself. You hated the way you felt towards your own kin. The resent you harboured despite your best efforts.

It was early, sky was still dark. Thorin was snoring beside you. You sat up and admired his profile in the dim light. You forced yourself away from him and dressed without a lamp. You crept out, lacing your boots on the front steps before departing. It was supposed to be your day off but it had been a restless night and you need a hammer in hand to settle yourself. Dis was to visit, Raina too and the house would be full of dwarflings. You just needed a break.

Your mother was awake as early as ever. When you entered, she kept her voice low and beckoned you to sit at the table as she cooked. The house felt emptier these days; both her daughters married and with homes of their own.

“Your father’s sleeping still,” She said, “I figured I’d let him.”

“Thorin, too,” You replied, “I...need a day to myself.”

“Oh?” She set a mug of coffee before you, “And I suppose you intend to spend it at the anvil?”

“I need the distraction,” You sipped from the dark brew.

“You need to slow down,” You mother admonished, “My dear, you’ve been working yourself ragged.”

“I’m fine,” You insisted, “I can handle the work.”

“Daughter,” Your mother rounded the table, placing her hand gently on your shoulder, “You cannot hate yourself as such. The day will come but you must be patient.”

“Maamr,” You rasped, relinquishing your cup, “It...I don’t think--”

Your voice caught as you heard the familiar distant creak of your parents’ bed. You shook your head, not wanting your father to overheard. You waited for him to emerge from his chamber, listening as he rose and took a few steps. They stopped suddenly and thick silence filled the house, time seeming to stop before a crash broke the eerie lull.

A groan followed and you rose, toppling your chair as you rushed past your mother. She followed and you found your father across the floor. You recalled the last you had found him thus. Years ago. You fell to your knees and turned him over in your lap, feeling for pulse beneath his whitening beard. It had been silver when last he had fallen.

“Maamr,” You looked up at her as you cradled your father, “Fetch a medic, please. He still breathes.”

Her eyes were crystalline as tears sparkled along them, waiting to fall. She grasped her throat and nodded, turning back as she made for the door. She moved more quickly than you thought her capable. Your hands were shaking as you looked back to your father. His breathing was wheezy, his palour drained. His naturally ruddy cheeks were gaunt.

Your lip trembled as you stood and lifted him with a grunt. He wasn’t so heavy as before. You angled him back onto his bed, his head on the pillow as you spread him out. You gripped his hand as you sat beside him and waited for help. This was no time for patience.

You kept hold of your father’s hand even as the medic had worked on him. The sweat on the blond brow of the healer gave you little hope. His name was Oskin and he was stern dwarf, but skilled. He worked around you, sighs escaping his lips as he tended to the fallen smith. Finally, he backed away, shaking his head sullenly as he unrolled his sleeves.

“Frita,” He approached your mother. Her arms were crossed and her face sullen. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” She raised her hands, “I knew the time was close.”

You gulped and looked back to your father. You couldn’t turn away from him; couldn’t let go of him as he remained inert. “A day or two,” You heard Oskin say before he left. Your mother said your name but you didn’t hear the rest of her words. You felt her hand on your arm but your shrugged her off. She sat in the chair next to the bed as you stayed beside your father. You were numb, so much so that you couldn’t move; you could barely think.

Thorin’s voice came later. He touched your shoulder and kissed your cheek but you did not flinch. He knelt beside you and spoke to you and then your father. But he couldn’t hear Thorin, the same he couldn’t feel your hand around his. Raina showed next, Dwalin and Ralin with her. The dwarfling tugged at your leg but you didn’t move.

“She won’t talk,” You heard your mother whisper. “She hasn’t moved and she’s not even cried.” He voice was weepy and full of tears.

“Y/N,” Thorin called to you, taking your other hand. He tried to force you away but you tugged your hand from his. “Please, you must eat. You must sleep.”

You shook your head, almost imperceptibly. He stood over you, you could feel his eyes on you, but he stepped away without further argument. The night came and you heard muffled voices in the kitchen. Your mother laid down beside your father, nestling into him as if he were still alive. She whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek on last time. She kissed yours before she finally left you alone and you clenched your jaw.

The house was suddenly silent. Everyone else was sleeping. You lifted your father’s hand and traced it with your thumbs. “I’m sorry,” You said quietly, “I’m sorry I never gave you a grandchild. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” You leaned over him, resting your head on his chest. His heartbeat was faint.

“I’m sorry it has to be like this. That you have to go.” You continued, “Why do you have to leave me when I’m so alone?” You closed your eyes, “I love you, Ada.” You listened, holding your breath as the beat came slower and quieter. And then, it stopped. “No,” You whispered, “No, no, no,” You repeated over and over.

Your voice came louder and louder until tears spilled forth and you began to choke. You wrapped your arms around your father’s lifeless form one last time and sat up, letting loose a wail; so sharp it scared even you. You crumbled over your father’s chest and sobbed, you body wracked. The door opened behind you as you began to slip to the floor. Thick arms caught you, Thorin holding you in his lap as you dissembled; rocking you like a child.

“He’s gone,” You said, burying your face in his neck, “Thorin...he’s gone.”

[locktobre]

top 5 femslash barbie couples you'd die for and why

I don’t think I really have 5 that I would die for, most of them are just casual, but I’ll give it a shot.

1. Merliah/Kylie (duh)

They have such a fantastic dynamic. I love their banter at the beginning, and their rivalry feels well fleshed-out without becoming too antagonistic (see: Barbie and Raquelle, Delancy and Portia). Also, as I’ve said before, there are literally NO men in either the first or second movie aside from Break. You can’t convince me it’s not canon, or as canon as it could get without actually being canon. They belong with each other.

2. Elina/Dandelion

It seems like Elina is shipped with literally anyone she ever talks to, but honestly, Dandelion is the real MVP. She was Elina’s friend before she had wings and before she saved anyone. She wanted to go with her, every time, but Elina made her stay behind, for various reasons. Dandelion has always been by her side, if only in spirit, and she’s always there to welcome her home. I think they’re very sweet together.

3. Alice/Delphine

This one I didn’t come up with, it was Jojo, but ever since they suggested it I’ve been obsessed tbh. They’re both sweet and shy (altho Alice is feisty once you get to know her), and it’s very easy to imagine them working together. I’ve always thought of Delphine as more of a model than a designer, so I usually have her as Alice’s muse. They’re just nice to imagine together.

4. Nori/Romy

This is another one that feels pretty much canon to me. The way Malucia reacts to them, it sounds like they were together when they had their powers taken, but why would a fairy and a mermaid be together? Given that they seem to have some sort of species rivalry, and only came together to protect the unicorns. I just imagine they’ve known each other a long time. Also, Romy immediately noticed the berry stain was gone from Nori’s skirt. I mean, come on.

5. Josette/Lorraine

They’re cheerleader girlfriends! What could be better! And the look on Lorraine’s face when Josette graduates? Tell me that’s not a proud girlfriend look. I always imagine that since they’re both lady royals, they’ll only go where they’ll both be hired, because they don’t want to get separated. (I usually have them as working for Portia, bc she seems like she might need two lady royals around to help her. Poor thing.)

[authorellenmint]

For your fic req because it just popped in my head as soon as I read your post. So.. a modern AU

Cullen and Alistair (as friends or lovers, you choose) go camping on the weekend. They hike up a mountain and come across another couple - Hawke (of your choice) & Isabela who clearly have no idea about how to do nature but are just kinda just winging it- you know the sort, those people that seem totally clueless but somehow life just works out for them and they just enjoy the ride. Cullen, a fastidious outdoorsman, just cant wrap his head around how they’ve survived this far, but Al being the bubbly happy go lucky sort soon makes friends. Impromptu night of shared food and banter around a campfire, fun and laughter and Bonus - maybe even some *cough* tent sex that makes the other pair blush/giggle/also have tent sex.

Is… is that how you meant? Lol

Cullen growled, his firelight eyes casting to the pair of fellow hikers they stumbled across on the trail. Or so they claimed. With neither tent nor pack in tow, he was beginning to question every word out of their mouths. In particular from that Isabela woman. She reminded him far too much of other charlatans he’d butted heads with over the years.

“Oi,” a finger jabbed into his side, Alistair sliding closer over the dusted ground. “What’s crawled up your backside this time?”

This was supposed to be a secluded hike, four days in the mountains with nary a person to talk to. His gaze flickered over to the prodding man beside him. Nary a new person to talk to. Getting Alistair to cease speaking required the use of both rope and duct tape, though he did have some in his pack.

Isabela chuckled, the gold jewelry around her neck jangling. Jewelry. In the woods. Who did such a thing?

Her partner wrapped an arm around the woman’s shoulders, then stuck a five-pronged stick into the fire. In an instant, all of the marshmallows cindered to flame. But that didn’t bother Hawke, his beard never ceasing to sway in a laugh as he blew out each one, then suckered the gooey mess off with his teeth.

“Your turn,” he passed the stick to Isabela, who plucked hers off with her fingers. The pair chowed down, smearing the sticky white mess over their mouths with a laugh. They barely glanced away from each other to the two men trying to not watch too intently.

“Oh,” Hawke bellowed, “do you guys want any?”

“No th–” Cullen began.

Alistair lashed his hands forward to pick two off, “Yes, please.” He crammed one into his mouth then turned to the prickly pear beside him. “Seriously? You’d seriously turn down a roasted marshmallow? More for me,” and he popped the second into his overcrowded jaw.

“So, let me get this straight,” Cullen sighed, not looking towards his companion who was slobbering to swallow down that mass. “You brought neither tent, nor proper gear, not even typical hiking rations, or anything to start a fire for that matter, but you have marshmallows.”

“Yup, spotted ‘em at the gas station just before the parking lot,” Hawke grinned wider. “Thought it’d be fun.”

“We’re winging it,” the woman winked at Cullen who scowled deeper.

“Sleeping out under the stars…” Hawke mused.

“While risking both lyme disease and drowning in a rainstorm,” Cullen muttered to himself.

“Walking through the woods to chase a deer,” Isabela answered back to Hawke, her ass scooting closer until she was nearly perched on his thigh.

“Falling off a cliff when you venture from the trail due to the lack of a map…”

“Finding that twenty-foot tall waterfall and jumping off!” Hawke shouted, one fist pumping through the air before Isabela caught it. She grabbed his hands to pull around the small of her back, flat out sitting in his lap now.

Drawing a finger down his jaw, she whispered, “Breaking in the waterfall.”

“Oh yes,” Hawke gasped, wrapping his arms around Isabela and dipping her down for a kiss.

“Breaking in…” Cullen scowled, shaking his head. To prove his annoyance he gesticulated to the idiotic couple while turning to Alistair for backup. Sadly, the man was too intently watching the spit-swapping session to do anything more than shrug. “How are you two not dead?” he settled for instead, accepting he was on his own.

Hawke snorted, “I ask that every day.”

“Nothing ventured,” Isabela responded back, sounding more and more like a pair of bank robbers trying to lay low until the heat was off 'em. “Any chance we can bum a lighter off you?”

“No,” Cullen spat out fast.

“Sure,” Alistair answered for him, already fishing the green one out of his pocket, “Captain Prepared here came with three.”

“In case the first two are damaged, or run out of…” he tried to reach past, not prepared to give an inch to these scammers, but Alistair was having none of it. Knocking his shoulder into Cullen’s chest, he turned that rarely-seen glare upon him and Cullen sank down to his seat in the dirt.

“So,” Alistair began, “you two got big plans for tomorrow?”

The idiots laughed, Hawke answering for them, “See where the wind takes us.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Isabela threw out.

Death. Dismemberment by a cougar. Starvation. Poisoned by berries. Poisoned by Ivy. Kicked in the head by a deer you apparently want to chase. Cullen had a long list at his disposal, but he shook it all away. What did he care if these two came to an untimely end? It wasn’t his job to protect everyone.

Yawing, Alistair stretched his arms wide, one hand brushing against Cullen’s agitated shoulder before clasping to him. “Welp, I’m more beat than scrambled eggs. Say it’s time I use that tent that took ages to set up. You coming?” His eyes burned into Cullen’s but he wouldn’t look away from the pair.

“What about the fire? Someone should put it out and wait for any errant embers, before…”

“It’s fine,” Hawke said, “we’ll get it when we’re done.”

Cullen snorted, “As if I’m going to entrust my…” Hands locked around his shoulders, Alistair struggling to yank him to his feet.

“Okay then!” the idiot shouted to Hawke and Isabela as if he seriously thought those two wouldn’t burn down the entire forest on accident. “Thanks so much!” His vice-like grip wouldn’t give for anything, Cullen forced to trail behind him towards the two-man tent they’d both carried for five hours up the mountain.

“No, thank you for the lighter, and the fire. It was great meeting you,” Hawke shouted.

Cullen turned back, wanting to lay out how unimpressed he was about having to meet them, but Alistair gave a good shove and he tumbled into the tent and landed on his ass hard. The sleeping bag did little to curb his fall. Those idiots didn’t even think to bring one of those, only a single blanket between them and the hard, muddy ground. Perhaps hookworm would get them in the end.

Zipping up the tent behind him, Alistair’s silhouette butted close to Cullen’s face as he whispered, “What’s got you tied into a Gorton Fisherman knot?”

“Gordian…never mind,” Cullen growled. “Them,” he pointed to the silhouettes near the fire, “No, you!”

“Me? What’d I do now? This was all your idea, which I was kind enough to go along with. Bugs adore me, you know. They line up for miles just to get a bite on the ol’ Alistair buffet, but I came along anyway 'cause you asked.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to involve them. Any them. And you just walk on up and say 'Hi, want to use all of our stuff because you’re like newborn babes out here?’”

Alistair snorted, only causing Cullen to snarl more, “What?”

“Nothing, forget I said or did anything. Just gonna curl up in my private sleeping chambers all alone,” he reached for his sleeping bag while Cullen fumed.

This was not what he had in mind. It started out that way, the trail proving rather forgiving for a bright day even as exhaustion began to set in. He hadn’t been out camping in too long, his back not used to the weight of the pack. But the freedom afforded him a calm he almost never got in the city.

Then they showed up. Doddering fools trying to pluck berries from a bush. Cullen muttered they were poisonous and intended to keep walking, but that damn idiot at his side had to intervene. They weren’t deathly poisonous, just knot your insides into a bow for a few hours to make you regret eating them. It was a learning experience. And now they were stuck with them, for who knew how long, suckering off of their supplies like leeches. Leeches making very…wet and slippery noises outside?

“What is that?” Cullen asked, glancing at where he’d originally spotted Hawke and Isabela’s shadows sitting. They seemed to be gone even as the fire blazed. So much for putting it out.

Alistair rose from his bed, a hand holding his head up, when a very feminine and very loud moan broke from outside. Oh Maker. A blush burned up Cullen’s cheeks, while Alistair laughed, “Well, when a boy and girl love each other very much…”

“I know what…” Cullen coughed, growing more uncomfortable at how vocal Isabela was. His face was burning, Cullen yanking up his blanket and hurling it down repeatedly as he couldn’t find any way to escape the awkwardness.

A cool hand rubbed against his back, then found its way under his shirt to cup against the skin. “You know,” Alistair breathed, that ornery breath wafting against the nape of Cullen’s neck, “I bet you’d enjoy this trip a lot more if you yanked that stick out of your ass…” His palm swooped forward to dig under Cullen’s waistband, “and put something else in it.”

Laughter rumbled in Cullen’s chest as his head dropped down, “Maker help me,” he whispered to himself before turning to Alistair, “but I think you’re right.”

Grabbing onto the pain-in-the-ass and shoving him onto his back, Cullen intended to give Hawke and Isabela a run for their money all night long.

[dissimulxte]

SHIPPING INFO // answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog. REPOST. don’t reblog. WHAT’S YOUR OTP FOR YOUR MUSE?: y’all if you can’t guess this you aren’t following me

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO RP WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING?: 

I like little glimpses at what they’re like living together, little pictures of moments from the mornings or lazy days around the house, those sort of “wrap your arms around them from behind while they’re doing dishes” and fluffy-garbage-shit, but the bulk of that I prefer to cover in headcanons and banter with my partners, as it’s not usually super interesting to thread. One-liners and short stuff here and there is all good, but I prefer to dig into the meaty bits when we’re really writin’.

Stuff like big disagreements, traumatic episodes, the angsty, holy shit why would you kinda thing, as well as them really doing stuff together. Mari’s a world-traveling criminal with an adrenaline addiction, so I think she really shines with people who get into trouble with her, and there’s a lot of relationship to be explored in there.

Also, basically as soon as a ship is confirmed between her and someone else’s muse, there’s almost inevitably a night where me and the other mun end up throwing down for a few hours and end up explaining, plotting, and talking about their entire relationship so it goes from 0 to 100 real quick, even if they’re still practically strangers in our official threads. Oops, all berries.

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?: 

Yeah I’m gonna go with the easy, good shit and say no minors-- this obviously has it’s exception in the handful of aus & verses where Mari is, herself, a teenager, but in that case there’d be no chance of her usual shit. I don’t really write smut, but I certainly won’t write anything sexually suggestive with underage muses or muns. Them’s the rules, kids, you’ll be a big grown soon enough.

In terms of the upper end, I’d say there really... isn’t one... Mari’s pretty hypersexual, as you’ve probably noticed, and age doesn’t particularly bother her. If it seems like they’re capable (wink wonk), she’ll probably give it a go. Maybe that makes the cut off like, I dunno, in their early 70s?? If there’s a ceiling, we haven’t found it yet. ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?: 

Anything meaningful, for sure. Mari’ll hit on, smooch on, and sleep with just about anybody, but she has profound romantic feelings for mmmm one person we’ve met on here so far, and inklings for maybe one more. She’s grayromantic, almost completely aromantic. Like, it’s super rare, and it’s definitely something I’ll have to have discussed at length with the other mun before any real ship sets sail. HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY’RE CONSIDERED NS.FW?: 

when something’s said or implied that you wouldn’t want someone passing by to read over your shoulder?? we’re talking naming/touching/explicit mentioning of the Good Bits. I think it’s pretty easy to know. WHO ARE OTHER MUSES YOU SHIP YOUR MUSE WITH?:  

haha most of my ship partners for mari aren’t active anymore, so I’d say currently it’s Wy (fucking duh [ @cadcnce ]) and to some extent the Boss (@puckish-rogue ) [but that’s pretty different imo] and some Soft Good Shit w/Jamie (@valorandheart) [but we haven’t talked about that As Much]. I’m on the hunt for more, because even if I’m selective, I do really love shipping, (especially w/girls...we miss girls...) DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?: 

I mean, yeah. For like, a real ship, I think we’ll definitely have to have talked about it. Some grow organically sometimes? but even then, I’m pretty sure myself and the other mun would be chatting about it as it goes along. 

DO NOT try and make a ship happen if it’s clearly not happening, don’t assume or preestablish without extensively talkin’ to me first-- just don’t try and forceship. I’ve had some fuckin’ bad times with that kinda shit and I’m Not Here For It. HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP?: 

Let’s be real, I fuckin’ love to ship. I really do. But it’s only gonna work out, especially with Mari, to be something Really Good every once in a blue moon. I know her, I know what she’s like, and I know what kind of folk I think she’s really compatible with. It’s gonna be pretty rare for her to have a really substantial romantic relationship. THAT BEING SAID get the fuck at me with more platonic ships/friendships. ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?: 

Kinda, yeah, but the reason I like it so much is more about seeing what we can find out about/build more in our muses and their characters than it is about aw look at them they’re so cute they should smooch and be happy. I like building relationships that are interesting because I like doing interesting things with my daughters. ARE YOU MULTISHIP?: 

Yyyyyyeeeesss, but as I’ve specified before, in a weirder way than most people. Until a relationship reaches REAL levels of PRETTY EXTREME COMMITMENT, all of Mari’s “relationships”/flirtations/FWB arrangements-- all of those exist in her “canon”. Like, she might be chillin’ with you one night, and then skip over to another muses’ pad the next day. And it’s totally available for your muse to know that and comment on it/know about the other people she’s seeing. She’s not exactly secretive.

When she does get particularly ROMANTICALLY involved with someone, that moves into it’s own verse, with exception for some special plots (which would be discussed beforehand). As mentioned in this post, Mari will try to be faithful in her important romantic relationships... it just might not... work out... anyways.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?: 

Mari & Emi. Oh my god they’re so good. I love them. My rival, shitty, bad decision daughters. (I’m mostly fandomless, so, I’m referencing a ship with one of my other OCs. It’s my fandom, get it.).

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?: 

After we’ve touched our toes in some threads and started getting a little conversation going between our kids, if you feel somethin’s there and you wanna talk about it, hit me up. Literally just drop me a line in ims and tell me what you’re thinkin’, and we’ll see about going from there. I can’t guarantee I’ll love it right away, (but, y’know, I probably will), but I’m willing to throw ideas around and try something out. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.

Tagged by: @cadcnce wowie thanks bud

Tagging: ♪ if you want it, here it is, come and get it ♫