#I just- I am always so inspired by star wars

[minniethemoocherda]

@dystopiansewerrat Hi!!! Sorry I thought it would be easier to organise these in a seperate post instead of derailing your own post 😅. I am sorry in advance! I will warn you that you would regret asking me about any ideas I had because one of my favourite things is trying to fit as many characters into an au as I can 😅

Please feel free to completely ignore everything I said! I completely understand if you're not a fan of any ships or ideas I mention. It is your au!!!! You are the artist!! These are just my rambling string of consciousness 😅

Anyway ideas based on @dystopiansewerrat Motor Sport Transformers AU!

Everyone go check it out!! Their art and ideas are amazing!!! Xxxxxxx

OG Era

Optimus' team includes of his oldest friend and head mechanic Ratchet and his bodyguard/eng specialist Ironhide.

Jazz is a fellow racer who has known OP since they were teenagers. He might not have won as many races as OP but he's very popular thanks to his style and that a video of him singing went viral! He is now a commentator.

Mirage wanted to prove that his skills as a racer came from talent and not his money. But after he won his first race, he realised that he hated being in the spotlight. He'd made freinds with Jazz during their first year together and joined his team instead. He spends most of his time working behind the scenes, getting sponsors and running PR. He still works behind the scenes and sponsors young up and coming races who due to their backgrounds would struggle getting sponsors from bigger brands. He also married Jazz's mechanic Hound.

Elita-One made history to have the first all female team, including her specialist Chromia. There were rumours that she had a romance with Optimus (amongst all the other romantic rumours surrounding Optimus)

Elita and Optimus set up their friends Ironhide and Chromia. The pair have been together ever since.

Prowl is the star racer for the Paxian team. His manager was Barricade who was an arsehole and his mechanic was Tarantulas who would experiment without telling him on his vehicle. Hkm and Prowl have a short lived relationship. Prowls younger brother Smokescreen was the only non-toxic influence on his team. Back in the day Prowl had a bit of a rivalry with Jazz but now they do the commentary together as he gives dry facts and serious analysis against Jazz's less serious persona. Rumours speculated about a romance between them since they were both racers and carried on to them both being commentators. The rumours turned out to eventually be right.

Ultra Magnus was head of the Wreckers team. Kups there too with Wheeljack as the mechanic and Bulkhead was there too maybe as the racer. Breakdown used to be on the team too until he fell head over heels for Knockout, the racer for the Velociteon team. Maybe they ended up saving each other at times if Breakdown got injured so Knockout helped to patch him up then another time Breakdown physically got Knockout to safety after a crash idk. Anyway now Breakdown is on the Velocitron team and now there is a lot of drama between them and The Wreckers.

Grimlock is the star racer for the Dinobot team who are always getting into trouble.

Onslaught is the star racer for The Combaticons. He built the team hismelf and is very proud of that. He is unaware that his teammate Blast-Off is in love with him.

Cyclonus get annoyed having to keep correcting people who assume he's part of the Deception team just because his uniform is purple.

Next Gen Era

Arcee saw Elita as a kid which inspired her to become a racer. She is now living the dream as Elita is her mentor and Chromia her mechanic.

I love Cheetor's friendship with Bumblebee and Hot Rod in Cyberverse so I could imagine them to be the same generation here! He's the racer for the Maximals with his Beast Wars crew as his team.

Springer is the new star racer for the Wreckers. Kup is still there as his mentor even though he should've retired by now. Springer is well liked by the public so he tries to hide the fact that disgraced former mechanic Tarantulas is his parent. Or maybe Springer himself doesn't even know they're related until some reporter reveals it. He could also have a complicated relationship with his other parents Prowl if you wanted to include that.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker grew up on the streets and in and out of foster homes, getting into trouble by stealing car parts and partaking in illegal drag races. Sideswipe is the star racer sponsored by Lambourgini whilst Sunstreaker does most of the behind the scenes stuff, including design and painting which is his favourite part. Maybe Ironhide is the twins mentor now and was able to whip them into shape.

Bluestreak is Prowl's youngest brother who is now the star racer of the Praxus team. He wanted to live up to his older brother's name. And he was a very fast and precise racer. But in the end decided he'd rather work behind the scenes so he joined Sideswipe's team as a strategist. He was worried Prowl would be disappointed but Prowl couldn't be more proud that he's doing what he wants with his life and for leaving the toxic praxus team. Bluestreak and Sunstreaker start dating at some point.

Breakdown and Knockout love their son Wildbreak very much! But worry about the team he joined the Stunticons being a bad influence on him.

After Onslaught got injured his team mate Vortex took over as head racer. He's crazy! And enjoys flirting with First Aid much to Ratchet's ire.

Non racers:

Red Alert is head of security for the races and Inferno was a firefighter who was working on the on site team in case of emergency which was how they met and are now happily married.

Swindle runs an unofficial betting ring within the racers and their teams since they can't place legal bets.

Smokescreen worked for the Praxian team with both his brothers but then developed a gambling problem. He's left the industry and getting help now though. His brother's are proud of him and he's proud of them.

Strongarm works security at the races. She is often seen arguing with Sideswipe about him not following safety rules. After they both had one too many drinks at a party, Sunstreaker catches them making out in a closet.

Lockdown is the reporter that no body likes becasue he always managed to dig dirt onto people.

Devcon is the reporter people like more because he's fair and not an attention seeking asehole

[butyoudidthis4what]

Would You Believe Me If...

Jack Abbot x F!Reader

3.5k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CWs: mentions of alcohol; reference to sex; mental health issues; reader is not having a great time; reader doesn't like beer; depression; being sad for no articulable reason; self-hate; ass grab; kissing with tongue; little to no editing/proofreading; Jack being the BEST; hurt/comfort type situation (reader's brain is the hurt, Jack is the comfort)

Summary: Jack sees the sadness you're hiding from everyone and pulls you aside to talk and love on you.

AN: I was sent this ask and inspired to write whatever this is!!!! A short little fluffy comfort fic! I very much agree with that anon that Jack is very much an "On purpose. On purpose I am going to care about you" and "I never loved you on accident?" man. He would see all of you, good and bad, and still love you. I tried to give him that kind of vibe in You're Okay too and we see it here again (I hope, I don't really know what I'm doing anymore). I have absolutely zero fucking clue what the end is or where that came from but here we are friends. ALSO there is a very small Star Wars nod in here since I’m posting on May 4th! Thank you for reading!!

Jack’s eyes find you the second he hears you laugh. 

Quite literally a second because he’s always keeping an eye on you when you’re out together, not controlling or because he cares who you’re with. He just always wants to know where you are relative to him, just in case something happens and he needs to get to you. Military training, he supposes.

His eyes find you because he knows that laugh. It’s not your real laugh. It’s fake, the one you put on when you’re not super present and are hiding your sadness. To anyone else it’s very convincing, they don’t blink at it. 

He narrows his eyes a little to watch you better as you chat with McKay, Samira and Parker. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see your leg bouncing under the picnic table, can see the way you chew on the side of your cheek every so often. 

“You gonna pay attention to this conversation or just stare at your girl all day?” Robby asks Jack. Most of the crew is at a local park for a picnic celebrating Dana’s birthday.

“I’ve been paying attention and heard everything you said. Unlike you I can multitask.” Jack finally lets his eyes leave you as he turns to look back at Robby. Shen and Whitaker stifle laughs. Everyone knows it’s not true and just Jack giving Robby shit. You have to be able to multitask to be a good emergentologist, and Robby is one of the best, Jack’s told him that many times. 

“I agree though,” Jack nods at Robby. “The patient satisfaction scores are bullshit. They should automatically be a ten or whatever the highest thing on the fucking form is if they’re brough in via ambulance and survive.”

“People come in by ambulance for really stupid things that don’t really require us saving them,” Whitaker observes. 

“And people walk in with injuries they really should have come in an ambulance for,” Robby shrugs. “It would even itself out.” 

“Exactly,” Jack nods. He looks back over at you for a second and then stands up. “I’ll be back.”

“Sure you will,” Robby drawls, smirking. 

Jack ignores him as he starts walking over to you. “Hey,” he says to the group as he reaches you, sets his hands on your shoulders from behind and squeezes. You feel a little better already, just from being closer to him. The rest of the group continues chatting as he leans down to speak just to you. “Take a walk with me for a few minutes?”

You furrow your brows, tilt your head and look back a little to see him. “Um, sure. Is there a reason why? Are you sure? It seemed like you guys were having a good conversation.” You flick your head towards Robby, Shen and Whitaker. 

“I’m sure. And does there need to be a reason why I want to take a walk with my girl?” He turns his head a little more and places a soft kiss just below your ear. 

My girl. Even though you’ve been together for a while now it still makes you a little dizzy to hear. 

“No, I guess not.” You give him one of those fake smiles and he knows it’s not because you’re trying to fool him, not really, deep down you know better than to even try by this point, but because you’re in public. Have to keep up appearances. 

“Well I know not, so.” He leans back up and moves his hands from your shoulders. “I’m stealing her for a minute.” He nods at the group. It pulls some smirks but nobody says anything, they all just nod. As you get up Jack finishes off the little bit of cider left in the bottle you were nursing. 

Once you’re up Jack laces his hand with yours and leads you over to the park’s path, walks down it a ways with you in silence before pulling you off it. He walks with you on the grass until you come to a spot where the ground starts to slope down, the top of a little hill that provides a nice view of the sun setting over the city. You’re more than far away enough that nobody can hear or see you.

“What’s up?” You titter a little, clearly a bit nervous. 

Jack nods at the ground and you both sit, feet out in front of you, grass and soil dry from the heat of the day. “You were totally spaced out and not really there.” He eyes you carefully. “You’re back now, for the most part, but I wanted to see what’s up away from everyone.” 

You push your bottom lip out a little and shrug, shake your head. “I’m f-” Jack gives you a look. “I don’t even know why I bother trying,” you mutter. 

“Neither do I. But I get it. Wanting to hide it and not let me see because you know I don’t like seeing you upset. I feel the same.” He squeezes your leg gently and doesn’t press when you’re quiet for a bit as you think of what you want to say. 

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know?” you murmur. You already know the answer but you’re using the question as an answer itself.

“Yeah.” Jack pauses and cocks his head at you, catches your eyes and holds your gaze as he speaks. “Would you believe me if I told you it was okay not to know?” He already knows the answer but he’s using the question to tell you it’s okay. 

You let out a breath through your nose and shake your head a little as you look away from him and out at the city, Jack doing the same. “I know it is. Rationally. But the irrational side of my brain doesn’t.”

You see Jack nod out of the corner of your eye. He gives you space to think, sits in the background buzz of the park with you, hand running up and down your thigh to ground you, remind you he’s here. 

“I’m just sad.” You shrug. You aren’t teary, don’t even have the urge to cry at the moment. It’s a hollow sadness. One that just vaguely aches and makes you tired. “There’s no reason for it. Just am.” 

“Would you believe me if I told you that’s okay too?” Again, he knows the answer but uses the question to make the point. 

“Is it though Jack?” You reply quickly. It surprises him, catches him off guard. 

He turns back to study your face, see if he can read what this is from your profile. He has a feeling he knows where this is going. 

“It doesn’t feel okay,” you continue. “Not even for me, but for you. It’s not fair to you. For me to just randomly be sad sometimes and unable to explain why. Because fuck Jack, I just want to sit here and be sad. I just want to sit here and be sad and maybe cry if I can get past whatever fucking emotional brick it is that’s stopping me from doing so. But what I don’t want is for you to have to sit here with me in it.” 

Jack lets your words hang in the air for a few seconds so that you know he’s really listening and taking them in, but not so long that it feels like he’s having to think of a response.

“It is okay. I promise you it is.” As much as he loves eye contact he knows it would be a little too much for you right now so he doesn’t push you to look at him or try to catch your gaze. “And it’s okay for us to just sit here. We can just sit in the sad. I hate seeing you be sad and struggle, yes. But sometimes you just need to sit here and feel it. And I want to be there next to you when you do. You don’t have to be okay and happy all of the time. You’re allowed to just sit here and be sad or whatever emotion you want to be. You don’t constantly have to be working towards being better when you get sad like this. We can stay here for a bit. I’m not going to let you or us unpack and move here, but we can visit sometimes. You can feel whatever it is you need to feel in front of me and with me. I want you to.”  

You let out a shaky breath. You know that what he’s saying is true. At least part of you does. But it’s so hard to accept. 

“And there are very few things in life that I have to do anymore, sweetheart.” He gives your leg a little squeeze before resuming running his hand up and down it. “You’re not holding me hostage or keeping me here against my will. I know I don’t have to sit here with you while you’re sad and don’t know why. I don’t feel like I have to. I choose to. I choose to sit next to you here in the sadness the way you do for me when I want to sit and be sad and not know why. I choose you.” 

“You should choose better.” It’s whispered. “You deserve better.” 

Jack starts shaking his head before you even finish the word better. 

“Yes, Jack, you do,” you say before he can get anything out. “Because you’ve been through so much already. You deserve to be with someone better. Someone easier to love who isn’t constantly putting you through shit like this. I know you love me, Jack, I promise. I never doubt that. But sometimes I don’t understand why you love me. Why you love me when I can be so fucking awful and all over the place and sad randomly for no reason. Do you see that Jack? Do you really see me? What you put yourself through by loving me?” 

Jack’s hand stills and squeezes your thigh again, longer this time, but still at the perfect pressure. He hurts, physically, his heart hurts seeing you like this, hearing your voice and knowing how much you mean what you’re saying. He hates it. He wishes he could take away your pain. But he can’t. All he can do is try to help and try to make you feel a little better and at the very least not let you be alone in it. 

He adjusts his position so that he’s turned toward you a bit more, the side of one of your legs and one of his pressed together. 

“Darling, the way you see and feel about yourself is not the way I see or feel about you. Just like the way I see myself and feel about myself is not the way you see or feel about me. We’re our own worst critics, as fucking cliché as that shit is. And I love you and mean this with all the love in the world, but you’re right. You can be awful at times. But the only person you’re ever awful to is yourself. Like you are right now.” You can feel tears start to form behind your eyes at that. Not because it’s mean and his words have hurt you. Because he’s right and you know it. 

He takes in a deep breath and looks out at the city for a moment before his gaze returns to you. “I don’t put myself through anything by loving you. I’m not burdened by loving you. And of course I see you, I always have,” he says with a heavy conviction. “You think I fell in love with you by accident? Or blindly? With my eyes closed?” 

You swallow thickly, can feel his eyes on you. “No.” Tears sting at your eyes now. “But still. You shouldn’t have to do this with me. I shouldn’t be work. But I am.”  

“Oh honey,” Jack breathes out softly. He takes a second and then shifts, sits a bit further up and grabs your legs, pulls them diagonal a bit and you a little closer so they can rest on top of his and you can look at each other better.   

“I need you to listen to me, yeah? Really listen.” Jack holds your face with his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones for a second while he looks you in the eyes. “Loving you is not the chore that your past has made you think it is.” He squeezes your face a little. “It’s not a chore at all. It’s a fucking privilege.” 

That gets a few tears to slide down your face and Jack’s thumbs are quick to wipe them away.

“And I know you can’t see that, and that you might never be able to see that. But it’s okay, because I do. And I will tell you it over and over and over and over until you understand why Robby tells me nicely to shut the fuck up sometimes.” He gives you the smallest knowing smirk.

You laugh at that, and it’s watery, and through your tears, but it’s real. You love the way he does that. Knows when to instill just enough lightness into this serious of a conversation to keep you grounded and from getting completely overwhelmed, but also knows when it’s not appropriate in a serious conversation. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper through some tears and shrug at him. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jack whispers back. He leans in and kisses your forehead, lets his lips linger there before pulling them away and resting his forehead against yours.

“You have to repeat this speech a lot.”

“I know.” He says it so matter of fact as he pulls his forehead from yours to look at you better. His hands leave your face and take yours in his, fingers tangling together.

“It makes me feel really bad. Like it’s going to push you away. Or like you’re going to think I don’t trust you or your love or-”

“I don’t think that, nor will I. I understand, baby. I really do. Because I feel the same way sometimes. I don’t care that you need reassurance at times. It doesn’t make me feel like you’re questioning me, or my love, or our love. It doesn’t make me feel like I’m the problem or somehow doing something wrong or not doing enough or anything else. It makes me feel like sometimes your brain’s chemicals get a little fucked up. And you know what? So do mine. I think we’ve had this conversation at least a time or two with the roles reversed. I think you have to repeat a version of the speech I’m giving you right now a lot. And do you care?”

You shake your head gently. “No. I would give you it every day if you needed me to.” 

“Guess what?” he whispers.

“So would you?” You give him a little pout and big doe eyes that show how much you love him and it’s so adorable he has to smile a little.

“Yeah. So would I.”  

He leans back in but this time he gives you a kiss on the lips, lingers just long enough before he breaks it and nuzzles his nose against yours. You keep your eyes closed as he pulls away, a little smile on your face. You open your eyes just in time to see the nearly beaming smile it pulls from Jack. 

The two of you sit there for a few more minutes before you finally turn to look at him. “We should go back.” 

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “We can stay longer.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m ready.” Jack nods, gently moves your legs off his and stands up before holding both hands out to help you up. 

Instead of taking your hand and starting to walk back though he slips his arms around you, slides his hands in your back pockets and pulls you right up against him by your ass. He raises his eyebrows and smirks a little, a slight bobble of his head when it makes you gasp in surprise. 

His hands leave your pockets and slide up so that they’re wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. You rest your hands on his chest, look up at him knowing he wants your eye contact. Jack smiles when you give it to him. 

“I see you. I see all of you. Even the parts you don’t want me to see. The parts you’ll never show anyone else. And I did before I fell in love with you. And I still chose to jump head fucking first into being in love with you and even right now, sitting here in the sad with you, I’d make the same choice without a second thought.” One of his hands comes to hold your jaw, thumb on one side of your chin, his other four fingers on the other side, index finger right in front of your ear and the other three just below your ear and on your neck. “I choose you. All of you. Not just the you that you like and think is good enough. I choose all of you because I love all of you and I know that all of you is more than good enough. I choose you and I will always choose you and I know I’m lucky to get to make that choice. I love you.”

Jack kisses you then, hand tightening just a little to hold you still for him. They’re chaste at first but turn deeper, his tongue running over one of your lips, a silent question. You let your hands run up his chest and over his shoulders before sliding your fingers into his hair, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck and open your mouth for him in silent answer, just enough for him to slip his tongue in and taste you, let you taste him. The taste of you pulls a groan from deep in Jack’s chest and you shiver. You only pull back when you’re desperate for air and Jack chases your lips with his. It makes you giggle.

You can feel him smile against your lips as he rests his forehead against yours again.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “And I choose you too. I love you.”

“I know.” You feel him smile a little wider against your lips before he gives you another kiss. 

You bite your lip as he pulls away, let your eyes open back up slowly to his grin. Jack grabs your hand and leads you back towards the path.

It hits you a few steps in. “You taste like cider.”

“Yeah,” Jack nods.

“You don’t like cider. You don’t drink it.”

“Yeah,” Jack shrugs slightly. “But I was drinking beer and you hate the taste of beer. And I knew I was going to kiss you like that so when you got up from the table I finished off your cider so you wouldn’t taste the beer on me.”

You beam up at him and he just smiles, can feel your happiness. He knows it hasn’t made it all better, that you might still be sad overall, that it might linger for a while.

You walk in a comfortable silence for a minute until you break it. 

“They’re going to think we fucked, probably.” You smirk a little at Jack. 

“You wanna play into it?” He’s so unfazed and stoic about it. So Jack. “I can go grab some little twigs to put in your hair, a leaf, some grass.” 

You burst out laughing. Properly. Fully. Real.

“Twigs?!” For some reason him saying the word twigs is hysterical to you. 

“There’s my favorite sound,” Jack laughs with you. “Well, one of them, anyway.” 

“Oh?” You glance up at him as your laughter trails off. 

“You would have been making another one of my favorite sounds if we had in fact fucked,” he says nonchalantly, swinging your hands a little.

“Oh,” you breathe. You can feel the smirk radiating off him. “Do you have more favorite sounds?”

“Course.” You see him nod out of the corner of your eye. “You saying my name. You saying you love me.” He squeezes your hand. “And the sound of your heartbeat when I rest my head on your chest.” 

You bite your lip at that. It’s so sweet it almost makes your heart ache. “Awwwww!” You squeeze his hand and lean into him. “You’re such a romantic, pookie.” 

“Ha!” The pet name catches him by surprise. “No.” Jack shakes his head at it, but his smile gives him away.

“Pookie is cute!”

“Do you understand the actual level of shit I would get from Robby if he ever heard you call me pookie? I’d have to get a new best friend and a new job.” You giggle at him. “You’re laughing but I’m serious.” 

“I’ll go into work with you one day this week and conspire with Myrna to come up with an even better nickname than fruitcake for Robby if you’ll let me call you pookie sometimes.”

Jack stops walking and looks down at you, pretends to eye you up for a second before giving you a little smirk. “Come up with something really good that’ll drive him up a wall and I’ll consider it.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm so sorry but the thought of hearing him say twig just sent me at the time I wrote this. I have no idea why. Anyway, I hope this was okay and you enjoyed and thank you so much for reading!!

You can find my Masterlist here for more Jack! Requests are closed while I catch up, but apparently if you just send in an ask with your thoughts about Jack I may be inspired and write something! I love chatting with you guys and likes/reblogs/replies are super appreciated and motivating!

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[daycourtofficial]

One single thread of gold tied me to you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 6.2k | Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, piv, foodplay (chocolate), oral (f and m receiving)

Summary: After a century of waiting, Eris and his mate finally have a few days to themselves to accept the mating bond.

Author's note: this is technically part of my gingerfucker series but it can be read as a standalone. Big thanks to @basketoffish for help with plotting the idea for it and for helping me edit ❤️ The people have been frothing and yearning for this and who am I deny such want any longer?

Eris never had good timing. Born too soon, bearing the brunt of his father’s cruelties. Born into a war he was too young to fight in, but too old to stay at home. 

All of his poor timing was worth it for this perfect opportunity. Beron would be away for three days and three nights to improve relations with Tarquin, the newest High Lord of the Summer Court. Beron went alone - he perceived it as much more intimidating to go alone (perhaps inspired by Tamlin’s appearance in the High Lord’s meeting a few years ago, winnowing in completely unaccompanied). Beron failed to recognize Tamlin’s appearance was much bolder - he knew he would face scrutiny, but still made an appearance without anyone at his side. Beron merely did it because he wanted to look more intimidating.

Nonetheless, Eris was able to send word to you with enough time for you to rearrange your royal appearances to carve out this time with him - an entire three day span, just the two of you. Three days felt like a lifetime when the two of you were only able to schedule hour-long secret meetings.

Once, in a desperate bid just to have your scent on him, you two had met for a total of twenty minutes.

Your rendezvous were often short, full of imminent risk and danger of being caught. Today felt like a blessing from the Mother, as if she were granting her star crossed lovers a vacation, a peek into what life could be like - what life will be like one day.

You two just had to be patient.

Even an entire court away, Beron would know someone from the Night Court was on his land. Perhaps not immediately, but he would know before your three days were over. So the two of you met in the Winter Court, in a cabin you were gifted a long, long time ago. A cabin you’ve gone to on occasion over the years, whenever you needed to get away and be alone. You had set the trap perfectly for your family - you were getting into petty squabbles the entire week, picking fights with Cassian and Mor left and right that left the two of them reeling with annoyance.

Your brother tired of it quite quickly, clocking it for what he thought it was. 

“Perhaps you should spend a weekend away, star.”

His tone was full of concern, for this was how you always were before retreating to your hidden cabin. Irritable, crabby, unable to have decent conversation with anyone without leading them into a spiral of anger.

“I’m fine,” you reply, intentionally clipping the words to make yourself seem in a much worse state than you were. “Besides, I have some scheduled meetings this weekend.”

Rhys nods, “Feyre has agreed to take over any duties you have that can’t be rescheduled.”

You perked up at that, feeling a little bad at the generosity of his mate. You hadn’t felt easy about this plan - preying upon your family to get what you wanted wasn’t a regular occurrence for you. 

But you refused to let any negative feelings about what you were doing get in the way of seeing your mate.

“Are you sure, Rhys?”

He waves a hand, “Go, please only return once you feel rested and headache-free. Cassian is quite adept at giving migraines.”

You smile, “so no one will bother me?”

He sighs at your continued questioning, “no, star. I think we’d be too afraid to bother you, except for Amren. And she’s in Summer for who knows how long.”

He stands up, crossing the room to you, his long legs practically gliding across the floor. He wraps you in his arms, squeezing you tightly before kissing you on the top of your head. He gently sways the two of you as you wrap your arms around him.

“Thanks, Rhys.”

He lays his head on top of your own, “just send word if you’ll be gone longer than a week. I just want to know you’re alive out there.”

This cabin was a frequent rendezvous point for the two of you, much cozier than the large clearings and forests you two otherwise frequent. The cabin was more ideal, however Eris couldn’t deny how incredible it felt to be inside of you as he leaned you up against various trees in the forest, the leaves crunching beneath his boots as he thrusted over and over into you.

His cock twitched at the thought as he walked towards the front door of the cabin. The door groaned slightly as he entered, marking his entrance. He felt the slight magical barrier ripple as he passed the threshold. He shut the door behind him, taking in the small, two bedroom cabin before him. 

The place was quaint and cozy, an insult he would use to describe Rhysand’s absurdly large and ornate homes, but for you it was a testament to how infectious the comfort you radiated was.

It permeated every surface - the walls, covered in various portraits and landscape paintings, along with shelves of books and trinkets.

His scent was stale from the last time he was here, but yours was fresh, as was the smell of some delicious meats and fresh breads. He closed his eyes and leaned his back against the door, catching a glimpse of you as you pittered about the kitchen. He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing himself a moment to think of what his life could be like if the two of you were ordinary fae. 

He would come home from whatever job he had, perhaps a scholar of some kind, leaving at the same time every day to come home to his mate. 

You two would clean your house together, bickering over your inability in any universe to put dirty socks in the hamper, and how in every universe feet would continue to make Eris shudder in disgust. In any other life, he would be thrilled to experience monotony with you.

But he’s not in another life, one of openness and free-flowing adoration, one free of constant plotting and scheming, earning favors wherever he can. He’s in this one - the reality where no one knows about the two of you, because once they do it will become an inter-court political nightmare. It is a life of stolen glances, hidden messages, and secret meetings under the moonlight, but it is a life that belongs to him, when for so long his life was not his own.

Eris would love you in all lives, your soul reaching to him in every iteration and reincarnation of the two of you. If the two of you were nothing but bacteria living on the same organism’s skin, he would find you. He would know it was you, no matter what shade of organism you wore.

The bond hums in your chest, tugging you to look towards the door where you know Eris is standing and watching. You continue the task at hand, not wanting anything to miss your notice. The bond deep inside of you grows more and more insistent, screaming at you to smell him, taste him, feel him, here, here, here. He’s here, in your house, and you need to look, look, look. 

You let Eris come to you, just as you always had, just as you always will. You’re slicing bread, placing the pieces in the bottom of the bowls when the smell of petrichor and caramel hits your nose, a warm presence at your back. 

“Good evening, my fox.” 

His face burrows into your neck at the nickname, melting into everything that was you. His arms wrapped around you, hands meeting yours. His fingers pull the knife from your grip, gently placing it down on the cutting board.

“What are you doing, my evening star?” His voice is purposefully low in your ear, causing goosebumps to trail down your neck, his hands warming your fingers. 

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

His soft chuckle warms your chest, the bond constricting around your heart at his amusement.

“Are you cooking?”

“Yes, Er.”

“I’m surprised your wraiths didn’t prepare anything for you.”

“They did,” you hum, turning in his arms, his amber eyes meeting yours, not quite certain of what they’re seeing.

His hands meet your hips, his touch warm on your skin, and you circle your arms around his neck, fingers raking through his hair at the root.

He hums at your touch, his face swooping down to kiss your forehead. 

You look up at him under your eyelashes, his nose and cheeks littered with freckles, mapping out where home was. You point your head in the direction of two large picnic baskets, one of which was opened for Eris to see various jars of jams and breads.

“Why would you-” his words fall short, his thoughts racing through his mind. They stream by in words and bits of phrases, but no completed thoughts make their way through the whirl and swirl of mate, food, and bond.

He short circuits, not quite grasping what you’re getting at.

“I have never gotten to cook for you,” you shrug nonchalantly.

His eye twitches, still not understanding.

“You’re cooking… for me?” His words come out slow and uncertain, as if the mere concept of someone choosing to do something like this was absolutely foreign to him. You nod slowly, not used to seeing Eris so incapable of understanding. 

“But if you-“

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll-“ 

“Yes.”

“Are you-“

“Yes.”

He stills, his thumb lightly brushing against your hip. Your eyes are open and bright, wanting to convey to him the certainty you felt. You lightly tug on the bond connecting the two of you and he rubs his chest at the feeling.

It’s quiet as the snow falls outside, unaware of the monumental decision you had decided on once Eris’s letter had arrived earlier in the week. You had spent the past few months researching traditional autumn foods, preparing for this day. You had known for quite a while you were going to accept the bond, you just didn’t know when the two of you would have the chance to spend more than a few fleeting hours together. You had sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother when you received Eris’s letter, soft prayers echoing through your mind each night ensuring this would all work. 

“Is everything ready?”

His eyes peer into yours, a vulnerability he rarely lets anyone see, even you. His words come out soft and slightly timid, as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off.

“Yes, we just have to bring the food to the table.”

“May I help?” He doesn’t move towards the food, but one of his hands twitches, moving imperceptibly closer to you.

“I would appreciate that.”

It’s quiet as you two move to the food, grabbing platters and bowls to bring to the table. Once the table is full, a three course meal laid out in front of the two of you, the reality set in a bit. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Eris, but you were slightly concerned you were forcing his hand with this. 

This was always ‘someday’, but now it was here and you didn’t know how he truly felt about it. That was until he grabbed your plate, placing the still warm pita in front of you. You placed a piece of pita on his own plate, and he looked at the baba ganoush before him, its texture so unlike anything he had seen in Autumn. “What do I do?”

You ripped a piece of your pita off, dipping it into the bowl, grabbing some of the baba ganoush on it before offering it to him. He inspects the piece, before doing the same with his own piece of pita, bringing the piece to your mouth. 

“Eat. This might be the last time we’re rational enough for food.”

The two of you bite down on the pita, the warmth of the bread with the chill of the baba ganoush, the smoky, rich flavor exploding in your mouths. The room immediately shifted with the scent of your mixed arousals, but the two of you ignored it. His fingers lingered on your mouth, swiping at your lips before ripping off another piece of pita.

Heat was coursing through your veins, Eris’s emotions thrumming through you at a higher intensity. He felt electric in your veins.

You continue feeding each other until the pita’s gone and your attention shifts to the bouillabaisse. In similar fashion, the two of you poured the soup into the bowls with the bread before setting them down. You were thrumming, every part of you screamed to be closer to him, your thoughts having a background loop of mate, mate, mate.

“How did you know about bouillabaisse?”

Eris’s words send heat through you - his voice, soft and low, the actual words not registering with your insatiable need for him.

“Beg your pardon?”

His smirk is feline as he knows exactly why you didn’t hear him, but he repeats his question with no teasing.

“I um, found it a few months ago - I was in Dawn and a little restaurant served it.”

You could feel the sweat on your brow as you watched Eris’s fingers bring another spoonful to his mouth. You thought about all the things he could do with those fingers, that mouth, that tongue-

“Nobody in Dawn serves this. It is a regional dish, more specifically it is only found on the seaside of Autumn.”

Busted. 

You take another bite of the soup, the flavors so different from Night Court cuisine, but you weren’t complaining. Several of the fish in the soup were only found along the coast of Autumn and Winter, some making it as far north as Dawn.

“I may have perused some Autumn Court restaurants when I was visiting once.”

Eris stretches out the fingers of his hand, moving his long fingers in torturous preparation before placing his hand on your thigh. His touch was so warm, you began pulling at the collar of your dress to let the heat escape, biting your lip to keep the moan from escaping.

“When were you allowed in Autumn?”

“Fine,” your voice came out sharp, the room much too hot for an interrogation, “I snuck into Autumn a few months ago trying to find something to make you for this. I tried a bouillabaisse at this incredible little restaurant and I paid them an exorbitant amount of gold to teach me how to make it and to not tell anyone I was there. I slipped back in yesterday to pick up the fish in this soup.”

His fingers dance about on your thigh, and you take a quick glance down at his pants, your body growing warmer at his cock pressing across his pants, desperate to be released. You can’t move your eyes away from it - knowing how it looked, how it felt in your mouth, how it tasted - you were about to start drooling before Eris’s hand came up and closed your jaw.

“Strip.”

Eris’s words were a demand, full of power and need.

“But we still have dess-“

Your words died on your tongue as Eris began unbuttoning his shirt, your eyes caught on his lean chest, littered with freckles. You were in need, too, practically salivating at your mate’s display of his body, and you can’t quite remember why you wanted him to finish the whole meal.

He huffs over to you, his hands grabbing the fabric of your dress, ripping it in half down the middle. You gasp as the cold air meets your skin, somehow making your nipples even harder.

You stare at him wide eyed, even more aroused than before. At this point, you knew your panties were doing very little to keep your arousal from coating your thighs.

“You took too long,” he snarls, undoing the ties of his pants.

You had begun pulling the remnants of your dress off your shoulder, but stopped to watch your mate hook his thumbs into his trousers and pull them down, letting his cock free. 

You move forward, ready to jump on Eris, but his hand on your chest stops you, eliciting a whine from you. His other hand grabs the molten chocolate cake you had made, slowly lifting it out of the ramekin. He holds it delicately in his hand, the other hand on your chest moving up to your hair, tugging gently on the strands to pull you towards him.

Your chests were touching, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. He blazed with heat, his cock hard with need pressed into your stomach. His cheeks are dusted with pink and his blood was boiling inside of him, but he moved ever so slowly, his fingers meeting your chin. He looked into your eyes, the two of you the only beings in the world right now.

“My mate.”

Anything could be happening outside of the walls of this cabin. The snow could have all melted, a heat wave sending the Winter Court into chaos, and you wouldn’t know. All you would know was Eris’s gaze on you, mapping out every inch of your body so he can remember every detail correctly when he thinks about this once you two are apart. His thumb applied pressure on your chin, opening your mouth. He placed the cake in your mouth, whispering, “don’t bite, not yet.”

You moved your hands to his hips, holding onto him. One of his hands moves to help hold the cake up, his other holding onto your neck. He puts the other end of the small cake into his mouth and lightly tugs on the bond. You both bite into it, the liquid chocolate center immediately cascading down and coating both of your chests. You both make quick work of finishing the remainder of the cake, tearing and gnawing at the soft dessert until you finish it off. He catches your lips in a kiss, the taste of the chocolate a luxury on his tongue.

You jump, feet slipping slightly on the bits of chocolate that made it to the floor. Eris’s arms catch underneath your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips. He lays you down on the table, moving his lips from your mouth, down the column of your throat, down your chest. You’re pulsing with need, desperate to feel any friction from him. You thrust your hips up, desperate to meet any feeling of him against you. His arm moves across your hips, pushing you down against the table. He shakes his head as he keeps kissing down your stomach, lifting his arm for a ring of fire to take its place around your waist.

He skips over where you want him, instead moving his head down to your thigh, licking up towards your hips. His tongue was hot as it slid up your inner thigh, lapping up the chocolate that had dripped down it. Your breathing was ragged as you felt his hot tongue growing closer and closer to you, and it felt like it was getting warmer the further it moved up your thigh. 

You looked down at him, his amber eyes that were full of heat all you can see of his face as his tongue finally slips between your folds. You moan at the contact, throwing your head back and hitting it harshly against the table. The pain didn’t register, not as Eris - your mate - was moving his tongue as if he knew every part of you, as if he knew exactly how you felt as he would warm and cool his tongue at his leisure. He lifted his mouth just an inch, his words slightly muffled by your body.

“You taste of desperation. It’s delicious.”

You moan at his words, and he flicks your clit with his tongue. His hands warm on your thighs, pressing them further apart. He slips his tongue back through your folds, your hands gripping onto his hair to keep his mouth on you. He grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders before one of his hands disappears. You are writhing on the table, his grip on you lighting your skin on fire. The room grows heavier with the scent of his arousal, and you twitch your ears at the new sound in the room.

He was moaning into your pussy, the vibrations coursing through your body as you realized the hand that left you was wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously. The thought of him being so aroused at eating you out that he has to touch himself sends you over the edge, your thighs clenching over his ears as you finish on his tongue. Your breathing was heavy, and Eris’s tongue did not let up, lapping like a starved male. You pulled him up by his hair, bringing your face to his. Your tongue swipes into his mouth, tasting a combination of yourself and chocolate on his mouth. You grab his shoulders, deepening the kiss as you flip him onto his back, pressing him onto the table. His hands grip onto your hips, trying to push you onto him, desperate for any touch from you. He whimpers as you tug his hair, pulling him into you.

You place teasing bites as you move down his torso, leaving mark after mark in a line towards his happy trail. You purposefully rub your breasts against his cock, smiling up at him as he groans, your breath hot on his crotch.

You lick from underneath his shaft, your tongue slowly moving from the base to the tip before putting his cock completely in your mouth. He tasted like cinnamon with a little salt, the chocolate flavor on your tongue making him taste incredible. His hands move, gripping onto your hair as he chants your name - a prayer, a plea, you weren’t sure. Your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and his hips thrusted trying to push himself deeper into your mouth. 

You wanted to tease him about needing to touch himself while his mouth was on you, but you felt the same compulsions as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You resist the urge to move your fingers to yourself by digging your nails into Eris’s thighs, leaving half moon indents. His grip grew tighter on your hair, pushing your head down harder as he got closer to finishing, his moans filling the cabin as he finished, the hot taste of cinnamon filling your mouth and coating your throat as you swallow it. You pull your mouth off of him, his cock twitching again at the look you give him as you lick your lips.

He growled and you swiped your tongue up his still hard cock. He lunged for you, jumping off the table before his teeth sink onto your nipple, pulling the skin with his teeth. You gasp, pinching his nipple back in response. 

“Do you think there’s something there about eating to accept the bond and what we just did?”

You waggle your brows at him, but his eyes are a bottomless pit of black. Gone are the amber hues of fallen leaves, replaced by an endless void of hunger. You lean up to kiss him, the taste of both of you swirling between your tongues. You start walking backward, knocking into one of the chairs. He catches you, one arm hooking around your waist. 

His pointer finger moves up from your belly button to your neck, swiping up the chocolate left behind. He puts his finger in your mouth, having you suck the chocolate off. 

“Maybe we should get cleaned up.”

You smiled around his finger, swirling your tongue around it as you looked up at him from under your lashes. You nodded, taking his whole finger into your mouth. He breathes in deeply through his nose, his eyes swirling with desire before you. His other arm loops around your waist, carrying you through the cabin. Your giggles echoed down the hallway as Eris moved the two of you into the bathroom. He doesn’t set you down, shifting instead to hold you up against the wall with one arm while he turns the shower on. 

The water started cascading down the both of you, sweeping the remnants of the chocolate down the drain. Your feet hit the floor as Eris pushes the two of you forward, your back hitting the wall. The water fell over your face, making it hard to see him, but you could feel everything about him. You felt his skin on yours, your chests pushed together. You felt his emotions thrumming inside of you, bouncing everywhere, filling every available space. You had heard of the bond being accepted as an all-consuming thing, but you found any previous descriptions to be wholly inadequate. Every inch of you burned for him, thrumming with need to be near, to have him with you, to have him inside of you. 

He grabs the bar of soap from the shower, lathering it onto a wet washcloth before rubbing it against your body, rubbing the chocolate from both yours and his skin. 

“I never thought accepting the bond would be so messy.”

Eris’s hand guided the wash cloth across your shoulders, your sternum, before taking his time as he rubbed it against your breasts. His thigh slid between your legs, separating them. Lean muscle pressed against your cunt as you sank onto his thigh. His lips were on your mouth as you ground onto his thigh. He tossed aside the washcloth, his hands gripped your hips, harshly moving you against his thigh. 

“My beautiful, beautiful mate.” 

His voice was husky, echoing through the shower, further cementing that feeling he was everywhere.

“Gonna fall apart on my thigh?”

His lips move down your neck, teeth sinking into skin.

“We have all weekend for me to put every part of me to good use.”

You threw your head back, hitting the wall softly. One of Eris’s hands moves behind your head, cushioning the blow. His grip is unforgiving as he continues moving you, his thigh rubbing your clit so perfectly. Eris looked so beautiful before you, his pale skin a soft shade of pink from the heat radiating off of him. 

His irises have shrunk enough for you to see a slither of the amber you love so much. You could feel him thrumming in your chest and you swore if you looked down, the room would be alight with the gold tie between you two. You gripped his shoulders as he pressed his thigh into harder, sending you over the edge. 

You’re reeling from the orgasm, but Eris’s grip doesn’t let up. He uses his other leg to spread your legs again, and his hands move down to your ass, picking you up before sliding his cock into you. It feels right when he’s inside of you, the pounding in your head subsiding, the heat dissipating for just a moment before it was replaced with the need for more, more, more.

Your head moves across the tiled wall as Eris thrusts into you. You grip his hair, pulling his face to you again before kissing his mouth, needing to feel him everywhere. You’re all teeth as you nip and bite across his neck, up his jaw, on his earlobes. The shower does little to hide the whimper he lets out. 

His fingers grab your face, pulling you from his ear to his mouth. He kisses you hard and passionately before pulling out of you and turning you around. Your hands press into the wall as his hands roam down the sides of your body, sending chills throughout you.

One of his hands ran through your hair, wrapping it around his hand, the other wrapping around your waist, holding your back to his chest. The water streamed down the two of you, but you hardly noticed as he kissed your neck, pushing you against the wall.

You moan, pushing your ass against his cock. He growls as one of his hands traces from your hip down to your upper inner thigh, gripping tightly.

He bit your shoulder blade, pushing deeper inside of you. The pressure inside of you kept building, the water streaming across your skin growing hotter. Your blood was boiling, you weren’t sure where you stopped and Eris began. His thrusts became harder and more erratic, his fingers gripping so tightly you were sure they’d bruise. 

Eirs held you in an iron grip as he came inside of you, his release causing you to finish again. Arms braced against the wall as you panted heavily, Eris softly pulled himself out of you. His hands rubbed down your arms, and you stood up straighter, albeit on shaky legs. His eyes were roaming your body, looking over all the marks leftover from your tryst. The two of you were no strangers to rougher sex - most of the time you two were only able to satiate each other against a tree for mother’s sake. The tiles were no concern to you, but you knew Eris felt something deeper within him, guilt perhaps at how little control he had and the marks a reminder of that. Having a bond was new, but accepting the bond was utter chaos. A thousand emotions rattled through you, unsure of who they truly belonged to the most dominant ones were to protect and to fuck.

Eris slipped his arm out of the shower, his head going with it. You took the moment to gaze down at his ass, the little freckles scattered across it gave you the urge to bite the plump flesh. He came back in fully with a washcloth, and your gaze softened. You reach out, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

“Er, I don’t care, we’ll probably be going at it again in twenty minutes.”

Despite your protests, he broke free of the loose grip you had on him. He brought the cloth up under the water, letting it get properly drenched. 

“I know.” 

He moved the washcloth down between your legs, his touch impossibly gentle compared with the male who was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise moments ago.

“We’ve just never gotten to have this part before.”

You think back to all the times you two have met - in the woods, in secure cabins, in closets to find that he was right. Every moment alone the two of you had counted, and neither of you were ever able to linger for long after sex. 

Another thing the secrecy cost the both of you.

He looked to you, asking silent permission, and you nod. He moved the washcloth, cleaning the remnants of himself off of you. He rinsed the washcloth again before moving it across your skin - your stomach, your shoulders, your arms. He lingered, taking the time to clean every inch of you. He laughed, pointing out you still had some chocolate behind your ear. Once he finished, he reached to turn off the shower, but your hand stopped his. 

His eyes are assessing as you slowly grab the washcloth from him, your own eyes reflecting his previous question. He nods, and you start your own work of cleaning him. Your eyes trail his body, taking in how vulnerable he is in this moment. You hummed softly, the tune of some song you can’t recall the name of. The sound makes some of the emotions inside of you die down a bit, replaced by a calmer feeling. Eris tips his head down as you wipe at his back, the scars there almost mirrors of your own.

The cloth moves down him, but you stop to kiss a few of the scars on his upper back. Once you’re done, you drop the washcloth on the floor, wrapping your arms around his torso. Eris’s hand reaches out, shutting off the shower, but not making any indication he wants to move. 

Eris’s love sitting inside of you felt different to the love you felt for him - synonyms, perhaps. But not quite the same.

After several minutes, you grabbed some towels from the cabinets, offering one to Eris. He slings it around his hips lazily, lifting you into his arms. You had barely wrapped yourself in the towel before he scooped you up.

The two of you land on the bed, decadent in shades of blue across the massive sea of blankets and pillows. The only reminder that neither of you were in your home courts. Eris taps your chest, the reminder you felt about having to leave him leaking over to his side of the bond.

You two settle on the pillows, discarding your towels to lay beneath the large duvet. You climbed on top of him, settling on his chest. His cock grew hard again, and you moved so you could settle with him inside of you. 

You traced your fingers over his freckles, connecting them with your finger. “I can make constellations out of them,” you tell him. 

The roar has subsided enough for you to feel like a person again rather than a beast. You know it’ll come back, in minutes or seconds you weren’t sure, but you wanted to spend whatever time with him like this that you could.

Eris thrusts softly inside of you, watching your eyes look for patterns in the freckles across his cheeks.

“Perhaps you can make me a constellation that will always lead me to you.”

You chuckle, leaning forward to kiss him softly. Your mate. You feel the pit inside of you start to roar, but you swallow it down, opting instead to search inside of yourself, finding that golden thread tethering you to him, and pulling.

“It appears I already have.”

He flips the two of you, laying you on your back as he slowly puts himself inside of you again. He fills you up completely, reaching the base of his cock before stopping and just staying there. 

“Mm, Eris.”

He smiles, his arms landing on each side of your face, caging you in. He moves a few strands of hair out of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

He smiles down at you, his freckles dancing across his face, the sunlight illuminating his hair to look as if it were made of flame.

His fingers tangle in your hair, lightly holding on. 

“You are everything to me.” 

His voice comes out soft and slightly shaky, as if the admission were almost painful. He began thrusting slowly, but this felt different. Anyone who had ever thought Eris Vanserra incapable of being soft should see him now.

“I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

His thrusts became faster with each word, but not harsher. 

“I will always take care of you.”

Your fingers grip his shoulders, your thumb softly rubbing the skin.

“And I you.”

You were reaching that peak again, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t feral, the need to satiate the physicality of the bond, but rather to remind yourself that you two were bound together, forever.

“I love you, mate.”

His words have you seeing stars, and you practically feel yourself leave your body, but you hear yourself say, “and I love you,” as Eris finishes inside of you.

He collapses on you, his cock still inside of you. You both are breathing heavily, unable to get enough air into your lungs. He collapses on top of you, his arms digging beneath you to wrap you in an embrace. 

No touch was enough, even as you wrapped your own arms around him, peppering kisses into the side of his head. The two of you lay there, eventually Eris peaks his head out from your neck to watch the snow fall outside the window. You think about the many lives you could lead with Eris Vanserra - how much simpler your lives could be if you were born of different circumstances. 

But those Erises wouldn’t be the one laying on top of you now. They wouldn’t have as sharp of a tongue as he does, or perhaps their noses wouldn’t slant the same way his does. You could lead a thousand lifetimes with a thousand Erises, each one different from the next. Your thumb grazes his cheek, deciding that easy was never meant for you. It was never meant for Eris, either.

In those thousand lifetimes, the only edge they have on this one is the ability for you two to be more free about your love. 

You wouldn’t have to return to your respective homes, glamouring the scent of your mating bond from those around you in a bid to mitigate the unwanted comments from those around either of you. Beron would be excited, an intercourt mating would come with tremendous benefits for him. Rhysand would be pissed, your entire family shocked at the secret, unable to bite their tongues from disrespecting your mate with the twisted truths.

Secrets can only last for so long. They all get spoken at some point, and one day everyone will know how you have been carrying Eris’s love for years, how it has carried you for much longer than you thought, and how it will still carry you wherever you need to go.

Even when it’s in the opposite direction of him.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx

Eris taglist: @secret-third-thing

Thanks for reading 💕

[illbegottenfaith]

do you exist? or have I made you up? (a normal thing by gracie abrams inspired fic)

years after theo, now presumed dead, walked out of you life, you see him once again on your television screen (theo nott x reader)

a/n - wowoww this fic ended up being kind of random trbh? I havent rlly listened to this song in months because tsou came out around when i was talking to/dating this guy which i am SO ANNOYED by because normal thing truly is such a beautiful song but idk i was just so starstruck by that guys (for what. for WHAT) ehehe so this might be my way of trying to rewrite what this song means for me? anyways enjoyyy :))

tropes/warnings - angst, mentions of the wizarding war II, soft!theo so a bit of fluff heh

word count - 2.4k

taglist - @kandralice @justme989898 @iamheretoread1234 @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf @user089167

You padded into your living room, wincing at the feeling of your cold apartment floor beneath your feet. Your flat was plunged into darkness, save for the flickering lights from your television with the volume turned down. You didn't always switch the lights on, but lately you had been forgetting more and more frequently. It just felt easier this way.

You sank into your couch, pulling a thin yet warm blanket up to your chin. You squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the bleary images that seemed to be going by too quickly to keep up with. Distractedly, you hunted for the remote. When you finally fished it out from between the cushions, you pointed it at the television, now showing a preview of some documentary on the post-war trials. When your remote remained resolutely unhelpful, you scowled at the blinding screen.

And that was when you saw him. Somewhere between the dramatic narration and the courtroom montages, the camera cut to him.

Theodore Nott.

For a moment, the world dropped out from under you.

The remote drooped in your fading grip. You sat frozen on the couch, eyes wide with disbelief, jaw slack, oblivious to the tea going cold on your coffee table. But there he was, larger than life, inches away from your eyes but miles away in reality, standing in a courtroom, flanked by Ministry officials. He looked older. Sharper. A little worn out around the edges, if his gaunt face was any indication, but none the worse for wear. A version of himself you only imagined in the quiet hours of the night when you wondered what had become of him.

You knew him from the parties.

Skulking in the corners, a little out of the way from the main buzz of the party, there was hardly a party Theo did not attend. Reserved that he was, he was the kind of boy with a cinematic sort of mystery about him. It was almost ridiculous how, no matter the lighting, the shadows on his features couldn't help but carve out a charmingly attractive face.  He had an easy, sloping smile and the kind of face that promised to dazzle. One of your friends pinned it down as a movie star charm.

And she wasn't wrong. He certainly had the looks and presence for it - equal parts unbothered and unreadable, aloof in a way that drew everyone in.

Occassionally, you'd find yourself sitting next to him during common-room gatherings, brushing shoulders with him during those draggy, half-hearted drinking games. Over time, the two of you grew closer. You learnt why he took Herbology - because plants calmed him, no matter how vicious they could be. He learnt that as a child of two very doting parents, you were very used to being the center of attention and getting your own way, which he was typically accommodating enough to humour. You learnt that his air of mystery was more akin to an air of bashfulness, if the way he glowed faintly pink under scrutiny was any indication.

At first, you made fun of him. He learnt to not-very-successfully dodge your cold, cold fingers creeping up to grab his face, squeezing it as you cooed at him, asking how your little movie star was doing in a vaguely Brooklyn accent while his face burned beneath your fingertips. He would roll his eyes, and you would laugh, unwilling to tear your gaze away from his crinkled eyes or well-worn laugh lines.

At first, you chalked it up to curiosity. After all, who was this freak of nature who'd rather not have the spotlight? That was what you told yourself, at least, every time you mirrored his grin. 

But somewhere along the line, the joke started to turn.

You liked that he amused you, even if (or especially if) it was at his expense. You liked the way he always poured your drink first, as if his was only an afterthought. You liked the way he tilted his head when you talked, like he was putting a little extra effort in processing your words. Your words. You liked that he never turned you down for a dance, and that he wasn't grabby like the other guys, which meant that you could rest your head on his shoulder, swaying soothingly for as long as you wanted.

Theo wasn’t charming in the way other boys were. Or, at least, he didn't try to charm the way they did. He didn’t partake in their headassery or play at something he was not. He was attentive, alert in a way most people weren't. You found yourself drawn to it - his quiet focus. At first, it unnerved you, how easy it was to fall into a rhythm with him. How being near him didn’t feel strange at all.

It felt… familiar. Normal.

You felt yourself relenting, softening towards the gentle boy with the dark eyes. Night after night, holding him close enough to hear the softest of his sighs, you had to wonder if you were special or if this was all just something he had scripted in his head. Even on the nights you spent apart, it was sickeningly adorable (read: borderline pathetic) how lovesick you seemed. But it was the only way you knew how to try to make sense of it all - meandering along the corridors outside to not wake your roommates, staring hard at the moon, replaying every touch as if to find some fault in his sincerity.

In the end, the only conclusion you came to was that the pull you felt from Theo was more than just a feeling. You had done your fair share of gallivanting with conceited, mannerless boys, but you were way out of your depth when it came to Theo. No one ever lived up to your expectations, so it was normal for you to become underwhelmed very quickly and far too easily. But being with Theo made you feel things you hadn't learned to put a name to yet. There was no adrenaline, no thrill, and still you sought him out.

It was terrifying, the feeling of someone having this much influence over you. Not that he seemed to be aware of any of it. With his hair roguishly pushed back with his spindly, sleek Ray Bans, squinting into the distance on a hot summer afternoon, Theo looked like a regular 70s heartthrob - the kind that drove you to tears merely by being a work of fiction.

For all your confidence, you never could quite shake the deep-rooted insecurity that you were hardly anyone special. You were hopelessly average. Mediocre. Uninterestingly normal. But when you were with Theo, watching him lean in to hear the most mundane drivel about your day, for a moment it would feel like he wanted nothing more. He wanted normal. And if you wanted him badly enough, then, well, couldn't you learn to love normal too?

The joke faded and burnt out. You still called him your movie star. Always to poke a little fun at him, always half-teasing, but now it had little to do with the way he looked.

Because he was the first person who could make everything else fade to black.

It was one of those late winter nights when something shifted.

With the threat of another war brewing ever closer, a frantic energy had possessed quite a few of the older students, as if to convince themselves this wasn't actually happening. Even you couldn't deny how nervy you had become. It made people more reckless, authority figures less compelling, and the parties more boisterous. On this particular night, the party didn't die down until the early hours of the morning. Most of your classmates were passed out in piles of limbs and cushions or had snuck off to engage in more sordid affairs. You and Theo were still in the common room, curled into the corner of a sagging loveseat, the last dusty bottle of firewhiskey between you.

Your head rested against his shoulder. One of his arms was loosely draped around your waist. There was hardly anything sexual about it. It wasn’t even intentional, not really. You closed your eyes. It felt easy to forget, curled up together like this. Theo felt so warm, quiet, and so deeply comforting you wanted to cry.

“I’m not sure I even like this stuff,” Theo murmured suddenly. He turned the bottle in his hand, rubbing at the peeling sticker. “Tastes like sugar and ash.”

You hummed against him. “Better than sugar and soap. Like that one jellybean.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Or sugar and thistle root."

"Or sugar and copper."

Theo's bottle stilled. "There's a sugar and copper flavour?"

"No," you said, peeling your eyes open. "But could you imagine? It'd be awful."

Theo sighed in agreement. Your eyes started drooping shut again.

"You ever tried that chocolate from Honeydukes? The one filled with raspberry and that weirdly bitter leaf?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Sounds awful.”

"I forgot," he teased, "your diet consists solely of diamonds and caviar."

You shifted slightly to look up at him.

"And what about it?"

He grinned as you resumed your position, lulled by the vibrations in his chest when he spoke.

“Well, it is awful. It starts off sweet, and then it punches you in the jaw with this bitter aftertaste. We used to compete to see who could eat the highest number in a minute - me, Mattheo, Enzo, my cousins.”

Theo's voice dipped a fraction at the last part. You peeled your eyes open. He was staring into the fire, at the dying wisps of amber.

"You've never mentioned your cousins before."

Without missing a beat, still staring into the fire, Theo replies, "Don't have any. Not anymore."

A heavy pause followed. You let the edge of resentment to his words sink in. You wondered if it had anything to do with the growing mass of pureblooded You-Know-Who sympathisers. It had been a touchy, off-limits at the breakfast table on the mornings you and your friends ate with the boys, given the prominent roles their families played in the first Wizarding War.

But now, you were quickly realising that the only thing worse than learning a schoolmate sided with a dictator was learning that they didn't despite being obliged to. You-Know-Who wasn't exactly known for his kind or accommodating nature. You were either with him or against him. He didn't take too kindly to anyone he deemed a traitor.

The light shifted. The fire burned out. Theo's face fell into the shadows once more.

How much longer did he have?

The war crept closer. Ominous headlines rained down in the Great Hall day after day, hushed arguments in dimly-lit corners, tension thickened into a fog. Everyone walked around constantly looking over their shoulders. It was nauseating.

You felt it weighing down on you one rainy night. You had given up trying to sleep through the roll after roll of thunder crashing through the sky. There was a weird, sickly feeling curling tight in your stomach. A gut instinct that something was off.

You wandered the halls in your bedroom slippers, half-dazed, until you somehow ended outside Theo's room. Theo would be the right person to talk about this with, you thought. He would know what to do.

You rapped against his door. 

"Theo?"

You pressed an ear to the solid door. Nothing. Your knocking turned more insistent.

"Are you in? Hello? Theodore?"

You felt panic swelling like a lump in your throat. Why wasn't he answering the door? Was he dead? Or worse, gone?

Just as you were about to abandon all hope, you heard the fiddling of some locks before the door finally cracked open. Theo's bright eyes peered out.

"Y/N? Is everything alright?"

You visibly relaxed at the sight of him alive and unhurt. It was almost laughable now, how realistic the delusions of a sleep-deprived mind had seemed just a moment ago.

"Yeah, I'm - "

You had undeniable proof that he was alright. Everything was alright. You should probably go back to your dorm and knock out to the sounds of the rain.

Then why was there still a pit in your stomach?

"I'm cold," you found yourself saying instead. "Very cold."

Obligingly, Theo stepped aside and opened the door the rest of the way.

In a way, it was the most comforting thing anyone could have done for you. It felt just like old times, before the stench of fear poisoned the air. You spent the night tangled together in his bed, fully clothed and half-asleep, neither of you saying what you were really thinking.

You must have finally dropped off at some point. In the far too early hours of the morning, cold crept in. You stirred, eyes fluttering open, only to see the blurry image of Theo shrugging on a notably thick jacket.

Your chest tightened.

“Where are you going?” you asked drowsily, too sleep-addled to have the sense to disguise your suspicion.

Theo wasn't looking at you. He was staring out into the too-bright wasteland of what was left of the night's storm, beneath clouded skies.

"...out. Just stepping out for a quick smoke."

"In that jacket?"

He finally deigned to look your way.

"It's cold out."

You sat up slowly, looking at him through the half-dark. The silence between you wasn’t angry. You wished it were. But it was full. Heavy. Knowing.

Theo moved through his room slowly, occasionally adding to his unassumingly deep pockets. You watched him blearily. Miserably. It made sense, after all. Running away was the best thing Theo could do for himself and his family. You should have seen this coming. Maybe you did see it coming. Gut feeling, and all that. You wanted to sulk, even if it was just so that he would have to stay to cheer you up. You wanted to yell at him, berate him for leaving you.

But that was what everyone was doing these days, wasn't it? Making arrangements for how they were going to fight their battles to survive the war. And no matter how much you wished otherwise, you couldn't blame him for his battles being different from yours.

Theo stepped towards you, eyebrows knitted in concern.

"Do you think you'll be alright on your own? Just for a little while?"

"I think," you whispered, rheumy-eyed, "you keep giving and giving and giving until you don't have much left for yourself."

You coughed, a dry, painful rattle in your chest, still somehow managing to glare at him.

"I can't believe you were going to step out without telling me."

Theo smiled weakly. "Sorry," he said. He had the audacity to sound genuine about it. He tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, cupping your face, dragging a thumb along the corner of your watery eyes. "Do you think you'll be able to forgive me?"

You turned your face away from him.

"I think I want you to stay safe."

The throbbing in your head dulled to give way to something sadder. Something more sentimental

“I had a good time. Last night.” And all the nights that came before.

"Me too," he said quietly.

He looked ready to leave, but something was holding him back. After a moment's hesitation, he bent down to gently press a kiss on your forehead. Hot, heavy tears gathered underneath your eyelashes, weighing them down, threatening to fall. You never hated him more than in that moment.

He straightened. You couldn’t see his expression, only the shape of him against the shadows. He took one last look around the room. One last look at you. He gave a slight nod.

You didn’t stop him. You let him leave.

You waited until his footsteps faded. Once they did, you pressed your face into his pillow and sobbed ceaselessly, like a dam had burst. You cried and cried for hours until the sun had risen high enough to properly illuminate his room, painfully devoid of his presence. It felt wrong. Unnatural. Abnormal.

Not just because he was gone.

Because you knew this was the last time. Because no one would ever know who he really was.

You cried over the futility of it all. You cried for the sweet and soft side of Theodore Nott that no one one else was ever going to know, lost to the bloody hands of war. You cried for how scared, how terrified you were for him. You cried for the loss of the one person who was everything you’d hoped for - the only thing you couldn’t keep.

So you became a prophecy fulfilled, in the most bitterly ironic way - crying over Theodore Nott for reasons too awful to have anticipated.

Now, sitting in your tiny flat, tea long gone cold, you watched him on the screen. Alive. Older. Far away.

You cried again.

Not for the unfamiliar, weathered man in the courtroom. But for the man who had made those silences feel a little less lonely.

The man you'd never have again.

[olderthannetfic]

Ok. Dumb question incoming, but I'd much have a 'conversation' than try to read fanlore or watch video essays or something because I want to hear individual people's contributions.

Why Star Trek?

Don't get me wrong - I like the franchise! I'm not super duper familiar with it, but I do enjoy the bits and pieces that I do know. But I am wondering why that in particular is hailed as the grandmother of all fandoms? Obviously people were fannish before Trek, but I don't think anyone can deny the impact that OG Trekkies had on fic, zines, and eventually on the internet.

I know that it's always been popular and well-liked, but it's not as if there was NO SUCH THING as popular culture/fan culture before that (I mean, come on, the term "parasocial" predates the first Star Trek episode by 10 years!) . Was it just a perfect mix of timing + popularity + etc? Is there something in particular about ST that "hit different" than other series at the time? Or is the fandom really really just that mighty and it's almost "luck" in a way? I guess I'm wondering what particular dominoes cascaded in a line in order for Star Trek to have the impact on fandom that it does today.

or am I wrong? were there just-as-big fandoms before and I simply overhype Trekkie power in my head / happen to see more talk of that than I do of other fandoms? It could definitely be a social circle bias thing.

Ugh. Asking OTNF why Star Trek is so important to fandom history feels very much like asking a Russian History major why War & Peace is so important to literature - hence why I warned you that it'd be a dumb question! But I am just so damn curious what sort of crack was in early ST fandom that made it SO widespread and SO strong.

Like, I guess the TLDR is: what was particularly 'different' about Star Trek, either as a fandom or as a franchise or both, that made it Theeeeee OG fandom, rather than something, like, i dunno, LOTR or the earliest versions of Marvel/DC comics or General Hospital or something else like that?

--

I await the hordes of angry Man from U.N.C.L.E. fans eager to prove that they were first.

And, no, it wasn't that popular. Hence the aggressive Save Our Show campaign and explosion of fan culture when it ended after three seasons.

Part of the answer to your question is that there were like three things on TV at the time. What big fandoms? 'Parasocial' was about non-subculture people feeling warmly towards news anchors or hosts of variety shows or something, wasn't it?

LOTR got rediscovered in the 60s or 70s from what I hear, but science fiction and fantasy books were for fringe weirdoes. SFF was not mainstream for the most part. There are a bunch of History of Book SF Fandom things on Youtube, and you should consult them on the complex role of LOTR in that space. LOTR wasn't a mainstream thing until there were live action movies a billion years later.

The key about Star Trek is that it was a hit with the pre-existing book SF crowd. They were an organized subculture. Some of their favorite writers wrote episodes. Other shit on TV was for people who did not form subcultures in that way. Other shit for SF fans had an audience 1/10,00th the size.

MFU was insanely popular. Illya Kuryakin was the heartthrob of a certain era of girl and inspired many a Russian major. (Seriously, there are soooo many Russia-boos of a certain age who probably still have a poster of him somewhere.) The actor set a record for fanmail. The show may have more influence on fandom history than we think now, but it also didn't rerun the way Trek did, at least in some eras, and it didn't have sequel series in a franchise. I'm always finding 2015 movie fans shocked that there's a still extant and semi-active fandom—or even shocked that the movie is based on something.

Starsky & Hutch was also hugely important and is the moment slash fandom and "Media Fandom" really split from book SF fandom. As Trek fans moved on to buddy cops, they were into a completely mainstream show but in a non-mainstream way. Trek was an awkward bedfellow at SF cons, but S&H just didn't fit at all.

Of course, while Trek is the grandma of AO3 type fandom, don't forget that a shitton of modern fans who are doing "research" just look at the same few sources. Enterprising Women is great and all, but even other fans of the same stuff are like "Oh, that was just X's friends. Where's [thing] and [thing] and [thing]?" Ditto Textual Poachers and the other scant early sources that people think have academic weight.

While Trek would still be central, the picture of what was going on in the late 60s-early 80s would look a bit different if you just found a bunch of 70-something nerds and asked them than if you regurgitate other people's research, you know?

If you want an idea of what else was going on in SF fandom back in the day, check out Galactic Journey, where they roleplay that it's 55 years ago and review SF things "as they come out".

If you want to understand MFU, here's a vid of Illya:

--

What say you, readers?

What have acafandom and fandom history and meta left out?

[ofmermaidstories]

SUMMARY: The call to be a Pro Hero has never been a question—not for Katsuki Bakugou, explosive and guarded, nor for Izuku Midoriya, protective and determined, and certainly not for Shouto Todoroki, who’s family legacy hangs over him like a shadow. Years after the War that upended Hero Society, these three men have helped rebuild a path to Pro Heroism for the next generation, tentatively heralding a new era of hope. But there’s danger lurking in this rebuilt world, danger that has the power to rekindle old fears and usher in new resentments, and as the trio branch out to find and end these threats, they each encounter a new challenge along the way—colliding with someone unexpected, and falling in love.

(A Pro Hero x Reader Trilogy; in which falling in love is a random chance all at once chaotic and exhilarating and incredible, for each of the Big Three)

The premise is simple: three heroes, three fics, and three different lives to live. Named for the Katy Perry song, The One That Got Away, the In Another Life trilogy was originally intended to be a series of five stand-alone fics that evolved, fairly quickly, into what we have today: three interconnected stories that let our Reader-inserts move throughout the My Hero Academia world, and eventually find where—and who with—they belong.

Started in 2020 when the manga was still on-going, the fics have diverged from the canon Horikoshi’s given us both in small and large ways. Despite where they separate (and where the fics have to stay faithful to their own canon, now), it’s always been my hope that they read like the love letters they are—to My Hero, to the boys, and to x reader fic at large.

i’m running to your side—flying my white flag

1. surrender (whenever you’re ready) [Explicit] — ao3

93k+

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: You first meet Ground Zero when he's thrown, unceremoniously, through the glass window of your florist shop.

(In which Bakugou cannot stand flowers but finds himself coming back, anyway)

i’ve been reading books of old—the legends and the myths

2. something (just like this) [Explicit] — ao3

203k+

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: It probably says a lot about you that your first thought on meeting Deku, international Symbol of Peace, isn't something like "Oh, wow," or, "Oh he's so nice," but is instead the un-Plus Ultra thought of, "I definitely would've bullied him, in high school."

At least until those muscles came in.

(In which Midoriya is an absolute nerd for the release of his own hero-inspired comic book series—and the artist responsible for it)

all your flaws and scars are mine

3. still (falling for you) [Explicit] — ao3

TDB

Shouto Todoroki x Reader

WIP 🕙

SUMMARY: The first time you and Shouto cross paths, he nearly drowns you.

(In which Todoroki meets a jeweller by the sea, and learns the difference between the value of the lessons he's been given—and the precious things he chooses to keep)

🚧 UNDER CONSTRUCTION 🚧

i am actively adding to and editing this section, still. if you think something is missing, or you have something you’d like included, please let me know!!! i am going through all the posts and links i do have, manually, so i may still miss something and would love a gentle reminder. 🌷

🚧 🏗️ 🧱🔨🔧🪛 🚧

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] do u think bakugou ever gets so angry his mouth misses [Readers] when they’re making out?

Katsuki’s home for once, sleeping off the last few days in the darkness of his room, cocooned.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] what type of jewellery would Bakugou gift [Reader], if any at all?

The first gift Katsuki gives you after Christmas is a pocket knife.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] merms, what are bakugou and weeds up to this christmas? :)

Katsuki wakes up before his alarm, before the sun rises—the city spread out beyond his bedroom windows like a carpet of stars.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] i miss weeds and katsuki so much 😭😭

It will be proper twilight, when they leave together; Weed's hand in the crook of his arm.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] how are weeds and katsuki?

It’s a Wednesday, a normal day, and they are figuring it out.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] petition for you to write [Reader sending] bakugou horny tweets

light it up like an ELECTRIC STRIKE ⚡️: please please PLEASE Kacchan has blocked me and muted the groupchat PLEASE, I need him to see this, please just send him this ONE THING, PLEASE!!!!!

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] would [it] be important to bakugou for [his parents and weeds] to meet?

Masaru will just scratch the side of his nose under his glasses and think about a younger Mitsuki, who literally would not take no for an answer from him—and a younger Katsuki, who had the same laser-focus when it came to the things he wanted in his life.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] i am asking for royal au + florist au for [weeds/bakugou]

In his armour still, his forest-green cape, Ser Bakugou is dressed for war—solid and imposing as he stands on your threshold.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] what does [Reader] post [to instagram]? + [SWYR] things weeds would post

The one consistent has been art, good, bad and middling.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [IAL] it’s so cute that SWYR’s reader is a fan of SJLT’s comic

Kacchan has never asked for anything from Izuku—beyond that he doesn’t look down on him (beyond that Izuku live).

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki keeps a pot of strawberries for you in his kitchen;

When they finally fruit he’s disgruntled.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki’s quieter than usual

So you wait. You let him have his silence, and you fill the space around it with your own presence.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] he tells me he’s gentle when he wants to be—

The bed dipping under Katsuki’s weight wakes you.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] you and bakugou walk home in the rain

“Y’re meant to go home, dipshit,” he says, disapproving

[DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] bad touch (you and me)

Minoru’s skeleton nearly fists itself out of his asshole when a voice behind him says, “That was a kindness you just did, for Midoriya.”

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] if you were to write surrender today, do you think anything would change?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] what would have been the moment bakugou knew he had it bad for surrender's reader?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] what do weeds and bakugou fight about? and how do they apologise?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] do you think bakugou ever feels like weeds would be better off without him? :(

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] have you ever written/imagined Kirishima’s POV [throughout the fic]?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] how does bakugou and haru’s relationship progress?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] idk if you meant her to come off in this way, but [Reader] strikes me as [lonely]

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i’m literally going to throw up from excitement if you actually make a bakuweeds oneshot collection

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i am vibrating in my boots with excitement about the [SWYR] one-shot series!

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] did you have any inspiration for the kimono Reader is wearing in SJLT?

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] looking forward to our [gala] wear

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] could we have visuals of Reader’s outfits during the gala?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] double dates

[ASK ❔] [IAL] what city/prefecture does [the series] take place in?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] how [would] the Y/Ns react to fanfic about their heroes?

[PODFIC 🎙️] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) — narrated by Chthonianqueen

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] and i’d give up forever to touch you: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] something (just like this) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] like lightning: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[ART ✏️] [IAL] bakugou & weeds, deku and & scribbles & bakugou/weeds, deku/scribbles, monoma/reader — by @groshia

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] you get to witness, in real time, as [Deku] leaps from the now open door — by @getstarried

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] izuku, just izuku. just as he is — by @handlethegbread

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] when you’re bakugou katsuki, — by @okeydokiescribbles

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] haru + the flower shop signs

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] the moodboard trend inspired me to make this little thing

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] SJLT is my all-time favourite fanfic,

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] this is just […] a collection of things that reminded me of this story

[BINDING 📚] surrender & the widening sky — @ladybirdk

[BINDING 📚] surrender (whenever you’re ready) — @/captain-liar

[PODCAST 🎙️] Canonically Incorrect, episode 75, season 2: Surrender (Whenever You’re Ready) — 10 December, 2022

[ spotify | apple ]

[PERMISSION STATEMENT:] You are more than welcome to print out any of the fics and bind yourself a copy for personal use, or otherwise record a [non-AI] reading of them, or translate into another language—as long as my ao3 username, OfMermaids, is credited somewhere as having written it. 🥹📚 I also love, love seeing and hearing about the work that goes into the pieces you create for yourselves, so if you’re comfortable with it, I’d love to see a picture of (or get a link to!) your efforts!!

final note:

This series is the result of several years worth of love and work, and most importantly, encouragement from the people who have come along and read the stories in it. Whether this is your first time discovering the trilogy, or you’re otherwise revisiting the boys, this is a note to say thank-you for being here. Thank-you for reading, and for being apart of something that has been so much fun to create. Fandom and fanfiction has always been about sharing the excitement with other people—so thank-you for letting me share mine with you. 🌷📖

[jelliewrites]

Rec List — The Adult Industry Edition!

That's right, all the below fics feature Harry or Draco (mostly Draco tbf) working in the sex industry. Please mind the tags for any fic you click on.

You always open (petal by petal) by birdsofshore

Explicit | 65 214

Summary: Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is.

This is one of my favourite ever fics featuring Down and Out Draco and an obsessed but delightfully oblivious Harry.

Fantastic Flip Fuck with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy! by @hoko-onchi-writes

Explicit | 10 898

Summary: Draco fucks Harry. Harry fucks Draco. They are porn stars. That's it.

This is a hugely fun fic where Harry and Draco are porn stars.

Another Mask Behind You by @letteredlettered

Explicit | 116 557

Summary: Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity. Harry unknowingly hires him. And then there is porn, questions about identity, domestic bliss, more porn, and truth as seen through a web of lies. (And then more porn. Seriously, if you don’t want sex scene after sex scene you probably shouldn’t read this. And please read the warnings.)

Another of my absolute favourites, Draco is an escort in disguise hired by Harry. Draco is a fantastically unreliable narrator and the smut is epic.

Nonymity by @shewhomustnotbenamed

Explicit | 11 304

Summary: Anonymity and Harry Potter rarely went hand-in-hand. When he learned about a sex club that hid both the patron's and the sex workers' identities, he knew he had to try. Little did he know that the club had a dark secret.

I came across this little gem while compiling this rec list. It's refreshing to read a first person fic and it handles consent really well.

Freedom to be by @quicksilvermaid

Explicit | 169 560

Summary: Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived.

12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends.

Only nothing feels perfect.

Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.

Don't want to give any spoilers on this one but there's a BDSM club!

Unhook the Stars by Jad

Explicit | 70 587

Summary: For HP Sexstars 2012. - "Love is like a Rubix Cube: there are countless wrong twists and turns, but once you get it right, it's perfect no matter how you look at it." Seventy-thousand words of pornographic discourse between two boys-turned-men that still haven't learned how to communicate like normal people – with words. Guest appearances by Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Teddy Lupin, Gregory Goyle, the Weird Sisters, ex-wives, several Weasleys, a Boggart, and a Honey Badger.

Another of my top favourite fics and an absolute classic, Draco is an escort hired by Harry.

Camboy Draco by A_LoveUnlaced

Mature | Art

Summary: Draco is living in the muggle world, working as a cam boy. And he's very, very good at his job.

Some top quality art next. Sadly the fic it is inspired by is no longer in A03, but it kind of reminds me of...

Come As You Are by @its-the-allure

Explicit | 35 016

Summary: When Harry Potter visits a sexy internet chatroom site, he does so with the hope of answering a niggling question: Am I interested in men? He finds more than he anticipated when he stumbles upon a free strip show starring a very familiar person. Just what is Draco Malfoy doing on a Muggle pay-per-view site? And when did he get so fucking fit?

... this super fic which also featured Draco on webcam and stunning art by @itsphantasmagoria

I'm in Love with a Stripper by @kbrick

Explicit | 79 576

Summary: Harry's life is a bit of a disaster across the board, but it's particularly messy when it comes to love. Because Harry might have feelings for his best friend, and he definitely has feelings for his best friend's brother, and he sometimes sleeps with his other friend, for whom he has no feelings whatsoever. Then things somehow manage to get even more complicated when Draco Malfoy twerks his way back into Harry's life one night at a muggle strip club.

Because as it turns out, Draco's a stripper. And he's gotten really, really fit. And his sugar daddy is a married club owner.

What could possibly go wrong?

Draco Malfoy is a stripper! Nuff said 🩷

Embers by @shiftylinguini

Explicit | 25 195

Summary: Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice.

Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter.

This time it's Harry providing his services to Werewolf Draco 🐺

I'm looking for a man in finance. 6'5". Grey eyes by @vukovich

Explicit | 7 728

Summary: Harry's a part-time sex worker. Draco's a piece of shit.

I will read anything this author writes, even a shopping list. This is a great fic which constantly challenges the readers' expectations.

In the Red by @bixgirl1

Explicit | 45 629

When Harry goes looking for a vampire at a Creature club, the second-to-last thing Harry expects is to find Malfoy working there.

The last thing he expects is to fall in love with him.

And finally we have Vampire Draco working in a creature club.

[bird-prince-art]

Idk if you read fic but do you have any Obikin fic recs? Your art makes me want to read some 🙏

I absolutely have fics for you anon and I am honored my art makes you want some.

Some of my favorite fics, in absolutely no order:

Patience by Why_is_my_nose_a_carrot: I think probably the fic that got me into obikin specifically. AU where Qui-Gon is Anakin's master, but Obi-Wan stays his best friend. Very slowburn, but my god. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's relationship, the way they write Obi and Ani as friends, UGH! Apparently the author got a lot of flack for this fic for some reason so if you do read it give them love, or at the very least don't harrass them jfc.

Something Blue by @darthwillies : Really love this fic and its concept. Obi-Wan marries uncrispy Vader in order to secure galaxy wide peace, now we witness their domestic "bliss". I think this fic is probably my favorite depiction of Vaderkin, someone who is still desperate to be forgiven, but only by the ones who matter. Desperate enough for love to keep it prisoner but still resentful of the reminder. And poor Obi-Wan, proud but insecure. The dynamic is very intriguing to me.

Amarilli by @darthwillies : Since I'm already talking about Graciously's work, I have to recommend this one as well. Obi-Wan realizes he has feelings for Anakin, panics, confesses, panics again. It's great. I love this fic not only because it's so beautifully written, but because the entire time I was reading it I just kept thinking how real it was. Everyone's reaction to The Feelings, the confession conversation, the aftermath conversation. All of it is so in character and believable. The end is great, and it left me wanting more.

Conceal Me What I Am by @himboskywalker : Cat's out of the bag, I LOVE arranged marriage AUs. And this one is so good. Senator Obi-Wan marries Jedi Anakin in order to help the Jedi/Republic's image during the war. But Anakin's an Omega posing as an Alpha! And Obi-Wan's an Alpha posing as a Beta! What will they do??? Fall in love about it obviously. The slow-burn and build-up is so good, I had to read it all in one sitting because I was desperate for them to finally be together.

An Unlikely Duo by @grapenehifics : Modern setting where total opposites Anakin and Obi-Wan fall in love with each other. Super sappy sweet fic that explores their relationship as it grows. There're so many little details in this fic that I just adore, and everytime I re-read they make me go awwwwww all over again. It also inspired me to make Ani and Obi in Animal Crossing.

Across the Stars by @unfortunate17 : Yes, I love this fic. Yes, it makes me bite my nails worrying about their future. Anakin is a time traveler who always travels to Obi-Wan. It's so sweet and the concept is so interesting. Without spoiling, the way the story unfolds is super interesting narratively speaking and is fleshed out enough to give you some ideas about why the traveling happens. Idk man just read it you won't be disappointed.

be careful not to choke on your admirations by @tennessoui : Thank you to this fic for making me google Who Is Korkie Star Wars. (I'm trying to finish TCW don't RUSH me Katie) Anakin babysits for hot dilf divorcee Obi-Wan, who he is desperately in love with. Honestly I love all of tennessoui's work so you should read all of them, but this fic is my go to. I love the flow of their conversations, the way that Obi-Wan is so obviously crazy about Anakin and Anakin is of course oblivious. Your honor, they're a little family. I love them.

Heartbeat Drives You Mad by @renlyslittlerose : Everything about this fic is entirely excellent. Depressed alcoholic Obi-Wan falls in love with his hot young neighbor in the 80's. What more could you want. Come for Anakin in short-shorts and stay for Obi-Wan's complex journey to healing. I really love the translation of Anakin's character in this fic, and the way that Obi-Wan describes him. 10/10 read it now.

the root of peony by @tideswept : Anakin and Obi-Wan served in the Napoleonic Wars, now they deal with the aftermath. I love doctor Obi-Wan and I LOVE their relationship in this fic. This fic is simultaneously very cozy, angsty, and sweet. I love the way that their relationship develops, and I love the world building.

are you mine tomorrow by @jedibongrip : I just read this fic again and I forgot how sweet it was. Obi-Wan finds Anakin on Tatooine during the war, and marries him in a green-card marriage so that Anakin can stay on Coruscant. Even though this is an Obi-Wan centric fic, I love how you can constantly feel Anakin's presence and his love throughout the fic. Obi-Wan is so silly, your husband loves you, idiot.

Lux Æterna by @obiwanobi : Hey do you want to be sad? Read this. It's a surprise :) Beautiful. I can't believe you've done this.

Obi-Two by @virahaus : I love this concept and I love the way it's written. Post-Prequel Obi-Wan is sent to the council meeting where Anakin is denied the rank of master. I love a sassy huffy Obi-Wan and this fic has TWO sassy Obi-Wans. I also love the idea of Obi-Wan becoming significantly less Jedi as time goes on, and I love how this fic depicts that.

OKAY this got a bit out of hand so I'm going to stop here. If you'd like more I'd be happy to supply some, and if you have any recommendations for me please send them!

[david-talks-sw]

"The Acolyte" wasn't 'woke' propaganda.

I had my issues with the show (you can check out my other posts to see what they were) but there's this notion that The Acolyte was created to spread The Message™ of "woke propaganda"... and I think there's a bit of a mix-up going on, there.

Because that's simplifying things a lot.

When you're a minority, you're not "being woke" when you're just being yourself! Conversely, you're not "writing to be woke" when you're a minority drawing inspiration from your personal experiences to tell a story.

I talked before about how George Lucas implemented elements of his personal life in his own films. In his own words:

"There's no way to write without writing from yourself. Y'know, the stuff gets made out of things that you care about… whether you've actually lived them or not. There are emotional issues that you deal with, and I think that's always a major factor with any writer. I don’t think— it's hard to write without having some kind of emotional connection to the material. I've never seen any reason not to. It’s easy to write that way. It's hard to write in the abstract. So when I write a scene, I write a scene that moves me or I care about, or is something that is personal to me." - George Lucas, Q&A with Lynne Hale, 1994 (StarWars.com)

Any piece of writing worth some salt needs to come from a personal place to some degree because that's where the heart of the story, the truth, lies. That's what an audience will relate to.

Example: The six original Star Wars films are purely George Lucas. As in, everything in those films, from the characters, to the cinematography, to the editing style, etc are all a reflection of who George is as a person and what he stands for:

anti-Vietnam / "fight the corporate & imperial machine"

60s-70s white kid from Modesto, California

single father of three

who defines himself as Methodist-Buddhist,

has an anthropology major and

a passion for Kurosawa,

cinema vérité,

cinema history in general

art and visuals and

car racing.

You see all that in those films.

Same thing with The Acolyte.

Leslye Headland drew from her personal experiences.

Among other things, Leslye is gay. So that's what she uses as inspiration to, for instance, craft Qimir's character motivation.

"I was on the treadmill being like, “What is [Qimir] gonna say?!” And my wife, who is a huge part of my creative process, finally she said, “What do you wanna say? Stop thinking of it like you have to somehow tap into a different guy.” [...] I was like, “I wanna say that people don't want me to exist as a gay woman, as a woman in this particular space, working in this wild sandbox.” There was a whole crew of people who believed in me, but deep down, I felt like, “I am unaccepted for who I am because of what I believe in and wanting to wield my power the way I'd like without having to answer to the legion of people that just exist out there.”" - Leslye Headland, Collider, 2024

She took this specific life experience of hers, and then made it more universal, so that a bigger audience could relate to it.

"By the way, I think everybody feels this way. I think that's why it resonates when you're honest about yourself, and you get personal about it. When [Qimir] says, “I want freedom,” that's what I want. I just want freedom. I want to be able to just be out there and be myself and be the type of artist I want to be without having to answer to anybody." - Leslye Headland, Collider, 2024

Same goes with Osha and Sol's relationship, or how she defines the Jedi Order. It derives from her own relationship with her father and how she felt being raised straight, in a Christian household.

If you have the time, listen to this audio clip where she describes that.

In the context of the whole interview, her voice goes down a few octaves and starts to crack a bit. This is a vulnerable moment, when she's talking about it... and it's this experience that she turned into fuel for her writing of Sol and Osha's father/daughter bond.

"There's this thing that's called benign sexism, and part of it is this paternal protectionism — it seems like this good thing, but like you said, there's this, “I have to protect you from everything. I have to make sure you're okay. I have to tell you what track to get on, and then once you're on that track, I need to support you.” Ultimately, what happens is — again, this is a father-daughter relationship — as women evolve in their lives and develop their own personalities separate from their fathers, at some point, they have to reject that protectionism. [...] She cannot stay a little girl or an adolescent or young adult. She has to, at some point, say, “I reject what you have told me I need to do to make you proud, to follow in your footsteps.” She has to do that." - Leslye Headland, Collider, 2024

Now... if we're talking consistency with the themes in Lucas' Star Wars, then yeah, The Acolyte misses the mark.

The Jedi Order isn't the patriarchy or the Catholic Church. They're more like Buddhist monks, George has stated so multiple times.

The Jedi teachings aren't narratively meant to be the same traits found in toxic masculinity or benign sexism.

When a Jedi tells you to be mindful of your emotions, it's not meant in the "boys don't cry" sense.

When they talk about letting go of attachments, it's not meant in a stoic "don't get emotionally involved" sense.

Anakin too, the whole point is that he's wrong, the narrative frames his fall to the Dark Side as his own fault, it's not meant to be perceived as a failure in upbringing.

But she's not the only one who does it. Filoni does it too, a majority of fans have this take on the Jedi.

And because of her experiences, I can see why her takeaway would be that. Same goes for Filoni, they're products of their generation, upbringing and experiences.

My point is:

Leslye Headland is writing from a personal place, when she's writing The Acolyte. It's partially informed by her politics because - like she quotes, "personal is political" - but when it comes to the writing of the show, it's personal first and foremost.

What this was, was a Star Wars fan (arguably the nerdiest one we've had so far, in terms of creators) putting all of herself in the creation of a show that perfectly reflects who she is and what she stands for, resulting in:

a story about growing past your father's paternal control and accepting that our guides aren't infallible,

where her wife holds a role and gets to wield a lightsaber,

a show about taking corrupt religious institutions to task

about the Sith and the Dark Side

and questioning the unquestionable

and exploring whether the good are really so good and if the bad are really so bad.

This was a project written from the heart, and regardless of whether the resulting art found its mark, I think it's important to note that it wasn't written to spread a propaganda message in some "pro-woke holy war" or whatever the hell the YouTubers are peddling.

[burquillos]

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the final MHA chapter because the internet seems to be very divided

I waited till MHA officially ended! Long post ahead!! People being divided on the ending makes sense. Different people come to watch shows and read comics for very different reasons and with very different expectations for an ending in mind. Especially for a series like MHA which is a battle manga that seeks to subvert shonen genre tropes.

I think part of the reason why people are so divided on it right now is because of leak culture and reaction culture. People have to remember that comic books and manga are a storytelling medium. The author actually thinks about the arrangement of the panels, what’s in the panels, and how the combination of these things can form a narrative. Reading it from twitter thread/discords from people in a rush to translate to get the information to you as fast as possible is NOT the intended way to experience the story.

The “leak format” kind of encourages people to put too much focus on certain panels and roughly translated text that would otherwise feel very different when you are reading the story through the intended medium, and when you pair that with the highly reactive way people ‘consume content’ nowadays, the result is a snowball of very volatile emotions being thrown around without a moment for people to breathe, think, and wonder for themselves “Why did the author write it like this? Was there something I missed? How does this re-contextualize story? Have I actually missed the point this whole time?” etc.

That being said, I sort of have a philosophical way of approaching MHA?? When I got back to it again, I was hyper-critical of it especially because I just came back from reading One Piece (and the writing styles and messages are VERY different). I slowly learned to judge the writing for what it is rather than keep comparing it to other series and I learned it was more enjoyable to experience the story like that.

The ending is a very hard pill to swallow for a lot of people which is understandable, but it didn’t come out of nowhere. I mean, just look at the ending lines of "Do Not Be Defeated by Rain", the poem that inspired Deku’s character:

I am also a stubbornly optimistic person, and my number one rule is never to engage with anything in bad faith. I CHOOSE to see hope through the margins and the final chapter being so open to potential encourages that thinking of mine.

So even though I think there are some things that could be handled better (the villains) and storylines I WISH were explored (OFA vestiges my beloved) there’s no reason why it couldn’t be fixed.

There is this openness to it that leaves so much room for hope and imagination that I can’t truly be mad at it.

I might find MHA lacking as an entertainment piece, but I will defend it to the end as an artistic piece.

Horikoshi has said before that he doesn’t care if his manga is popular or not, MHA is basically a culmination of the stuff he enjoys, and I KNOW drawing whatever the hell you want despite knowing not everyone will like it takes a lot of guts and it’s what makes MHA so human.

All the traces of him are in there, flaws and everything, so you can endlessly turn it around, flip back and forth and there will be always something new to unpack, learn, and realize and the thought of what could've been will always haunt people (just like Star Wars, a series he also likes kajdbaldnlk)

[vigilskeep]

now that you finished inquisition, what did you think of it? like favorite things, least favorite, etc?

oh man okay

things i love about dragon age inquisition:

capturing the specific feeling of bonding with a group of people you have absolutely nothing in common with because u all had to go through something long and specific together

the maps can be so pretty and in places really calming and lovely to spend time in. it does make me want to explore and i have no explorer’s instinct

i love the war table and judgements i think those are really fun features

i like that approval for many major decisions applies to everyone regardless of who you bring to specific events/quests. it feels a lot less like you have to manage that really hard, as you sometimes do in the other games and also really noticeably to me in something like baldur’s gate 3. it’s irritating when i have to plan ahead and can’t take who i want to hear from

i like how attached you can get to little npcs who wander around

i loveeeee fighting dragons and how beautiful they all are

little puzzles <3

the collectibles are also mostly fine by me i am a magpie by nature. as long as i can find them, obviously, bc if i can’t they suck and this whole game sucks

the templar specialisation is fun and i enjoyed that part of combat a lot. wrath of heaven/spell purge combo is a power trip

i thought my character was pretty :) i defeated u in the end dai character creator. may you be as merciful when we meet in battle once more

i’m not a huge crafter but being able to tint things is rlly nice

blackwall’s romance is good

vivienne is there

they let me briefly tame a dragon at the end there

things i don’t love about dragon age inquisition:

some genuine cruelty in writing the dalish in a way that feels shockingly callous to the real world cultures the writers took inspiration from

never giving the dalish or the rebel mages any kind of voice of their own and making the player do all that work if they care, which i also feel limits my roleplaying creativity

refusing to let you challenge any of the often overwhelmingly conservative views expressed by other characters without receiving only derision and disapproval. inquisition is a game that punishes you at every turn for having your own opinions, in a way that could be interesting if it was willing to truly let you develop complex or antagonistic relationships with those characters, but ends up mostly just feeling mocking when nobody ever even tries to see your side, while simply agreeing with these people always rewards you with content. origins was capable of letting you engage in discussion, and da2 let you form rivalries that mattered; inquisition, despite starring some of the most intentionally controversial characters, does neither

the game engineering conflicts against groups like the freemen of the dales or the avvar that mean nothing to the player and range from vaguely to seriously upsetting in their assumptions about who it’s normal to just start killing en masse. it’s both boring and distressing

odd, for lack of a better word “casting choices”, like having the fantasy impoverished racial minority all be white within the party while the wealthiest and most privileged are characters of colour, or for a more in-world example having the elves express the most distaste towards elves and the mages express the most caution about mages. i don’t know that i quite have the vocabulary to fully discuss why these weird me out, but it all feels... disingenuous? and chosen to forestall criticism based on real world comparisons in a game series that i wish had the nerve to openly confront what it’s talking about if it’s going to try to make any of its conflicts feel relevant

most of the companions, and indeed most of the quests and time spent playing the game, feel disconnected from the main plot. it’s hard to feel any pressure when the game tells you we need to deal with the main plot “right now!” and “get there before corypheus!” when the bulk of the game is doing other things while you’re supposed to be doing that. the majority of companions could be cut without changing anything. and when you finally want to deal with the main plot you just click to start it. it’s not engaging

the game fails to fully expand dialogue for the player character options it provided, particularly notable with its confusing chantry focus when you’ve said for the dozenth time you’re not andrastian

the 2-handed weapon whirlwind ability sound effect is an exercise in creating the worst and most grating sound effect for someone to constantly hear

they didn’t let me romance vivienne

they killed my dragon :(

[side-shawty]

Not Sorry (Stark!Reader)

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: Oneshot

Prompt/Summary: Inspired by "Not Sorry for Loving You" from Epic: The Musical because I am OBSESSED -- Alt version to what could have happened in the Burn Series

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Requested? Nopeeee

It had been six months since Peter agreed to help you. Well maybe “agree” was too strong of a word, it was more of a gentle shove on your end and an unsure yes from him. Even still, it had started innocently enough.

—

Y/N Stark Once Again Alone

Heirss Goes Solo; Ex Parties WIth Frat Brothers

Keener: 3 | Stark: 0

The headlines had been nonstop since you and Harley broke up, and it seemed like the media was determined to put you both at odds. Yet, it also somehow seemed like he always came out on top. 

You ignored yet another call from your Dad’s publisher and slammed your laptop shut. Once the ringing stopped, you took hold of your phone and dialed Peter’s number, effectively throwing him into the whirlwind that your life was becoming. 

Suddenly, he was your date for every event, party, and outing. Where you went, Peter went and it wasn’t long before you found yourself falling head over heels for the superhero.

And you thought he felt the same way about you — until one night. 

—

“I know MJ but it won’t be much longer, I promise,” A pause as Peter waited for a response from the other end. “Yeah, I love you too, see you soon.”

You heard him sigh and a soft click as he placed his phone on the marble countertop of the tower’s kitchen. He must have been exhausted because he hadn’t noticed your presence just beyond the doorway in the slightest.

You collected your racing mind and took a step through the threshold.

“Peter,” you spoke softly and he jumped, turning to face you with a startled look in his eyes.

“Y/N, w-whats—how long— why are you up?” He finally settled on an easy question, tensing as you stepped closer, stopping across from him at the island.

“Insomnia,” you shrugged, “an inherited trait,” you tried to use humor to lighten the obvious tension in the air.

Peter only nodded and neither of you spoke for several moments too long.

You cleared your throat, “Was that MJ?” You asked, curiosity finally winning.

His eyes widened a fraction, “Yeah, um, she was just asking about my plans for next weekend,” you nodded and he took it as a cue to continue his rambling, “Star Wars marathon is coming to the theatre near her house and she wanted to know if I wanted to go because we’ve been so busy lately that I—“

“Peter,” you offered, stopping him in his tracks and giving him a soft, adoring smile, “You’re rambling.”

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, “Sorry, I just,” There was obvious hesitation in every part of him from how he leaned gripping the counter and avoiding your eyes. You could see the gears turning as he fought to find the right words.

When he finally spoke, he had nothing but your full attention under the the kitchen’s dim light.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N,” he finally admitted, shooting ice straight through your veins. 

“Do what?” You asked, knowing. You needed to hear it even if it would break your heart into pieces.

“This, us” Peter gestured between the two of you and you wrapped your arms around your middle to keep from falling apart.

“I know this isn’t how a relationship should start but what we have is good, right? Special,” you almost sounded like you were begging.

“This isn’t a real relationship. I—“ He paused again, speaking quieter than before, “I’m in a real relationship,” he admitted.

That was all it took before you were falling apart again, you felt yourself heating up as your pyrokinesis threatened to unleash itself. 

“What? With who? MJ?” You asked, holding yourself tighter and laying your heated palms flat against your sides.

“Yes,” Peter confirmed. 

But you didn’t really need the confirmation, you had been fooling yourself for months. Those uncomfortable hugs and occasional light kisses for the camera. You chalked his tension to being nervous. Behind closed doors that lack of affection still existed but you tricked yourself again, saying that he was busy, or tired, or had too much on his mind.

Well, you supposed that last one was true.

“And I’m assuming she’s fed up with seeing her boyfriend on the cover with someone else,” you spoke and felt the pressure behind your eyes as you fought to keep your powers under control.

“Yes,” he repeated.

“So she’s taking you away,” the tears welled up in your eyes now.

“Yes, Y/N but listen I don’t regret this. I’m happy I could help you, especially after everything with Harley but,” he gave a deep sigh and pushed himself off of the island before carding his fingers through his hair, “I can’t keep doing this to her.”

You took a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before you spoke.

“I understand and if I had known, I probably wouldn’t have pushed so hard so for that I’m sorry but—” your voice broke.

“Y/N—“ Peter began, moving around the island and attempting to put a comforting hand on his shoulder before you backed away.

“Let me speak,” you interrupted knowing that you had to say what you needed to before you fell apart in front of him.

“I’ve spent my whole life in the spotlight. My dad and Pepper did their best to shield me but when Harley came along I thought I could do it all myself. He was my first friend, my only friend really before you all. Then when he broke my heart and you were there it was like a dream.

“I know I pushed you, and came on too strong,” you gave a dry chuckle, “hell it might’ve even felt like an ambush so if you hate me then I’m sorry, I’m so sorry my love’s too much for you—“

“Y/N” he tried again, it didn’t stop you.

“But I’m not sorry for loving you,” you finally admitted letting your hands fall and the first of the tears streak down your face. 

Peter froze with a start. You had never told him you loved him, even as a friend but it was true. You had loved him for so long you weren’t sure you could ever stop. He opened his mouth to speak again but you interrupted him, through tears.

“I’m not sorry, I’m angry, and tired, restless, sad. I’m replaying every single moment I thought we had. I wish you would, I don’t know. Chase me? Fight for me? For once, even lie and say—”

“I love you,” Peter finally found his voice and your gaze caught his for the first time all night.

“You do?”

“But not in the way that you want me to,” His own eyes seemed to fill with tears as he reached to wipe a tear from your cheek and you let him. Your head fell heavily into his palm, knowing you’d probably never feel his touch again.

You spoke quietly, “I hate that I fell in love with you.”

His other hand found your face instead of answering. 

“What do I do with this love for you?” You asked, not expecting an answer but he spoke softly anyway.

“Cherish it. I’m still going to be in your life, just not the way you might have needed,” He told you, his perfect brown eyes engulfing your own.

You chuckled with no humor, even breaking your heart he was still kind, “How am I supposed to get over you?”

He didn’t answer, but a single tear slipped from his eyes so you asked him one last question in the dim light.

“Why in the world don’t you love me too?”

[mylittleredgirl]

@pomegranate ok you asked for it!!

so i have only seen up thru s4, but as a fandom immigrant coming from star trek, i am obsessed with the time distortion possibilities and keep rotating "how each character deals with being The Only One Who Knows They're In A Time Loop" in my head.

klinger so far is THE most interesting candidate to be an hour deep into a violent cut of "groundhog day." he's desperate to escape. he tries everything and nothing works. doesn't he even try to blow himself up with a grenade one time, with no real fear for the consequences of playing with live ammo??

more specifically, he tries the same thing over and over again despite being told every single time that it just Will Not Work. for like a season and a half, every time he enters the scene they have to tell the audience why there's a dude in a dress, and so he has the same conversation every time. what about this outfit? what if this is the one???? he gains an incredible proficiency with sewing, and what time-loop comedy is complete without a skill-building montage?

also -- how many different assignments does one guy have?? he's in the kitchen or on patrol or carrying bodies around or doing skilled tech support and in rare moments he's even at the table as a nurse??

everyone in camp is unhappy (except perhaps margaret early on), and hawkeye waxes existential about endless war, but klinger is the only one truly shaking the bars at all times saying THIS IS NUTS!! HOW DO YOU NOT SEE IT?? LET ME OUT and actually trying to leave the camp. and always failing. the big moves don't work, so what if it's in the little details?

and henry has to be part of this theory, because it's the most tragic point. he's the one klinger asks to escape with him. (a joke, sure, but we're taking this all seriously for a second.) so what if klinger knows, he's seen it, but he can't stop it? he has tried!! henry can't get out alive either, he's trapped in the loop too, but he can't see it. (& klinger seems to change himself in a post-Henry world, if not right away. as i kept watching season 4, he shows up more and more often in fatigues without objecting to it. once again, until it starts over, he failed.)

and finally, from the post that inspired those tags:

you don't whip this up in a day. he made it for this occasion. he knew it was coming. carry this picture in your pocket. maybe this is the one.

[karrashifts]

ANSWERING YOUR SHIFTING QUESTIONS *ೃ༄

i was gonna make these talking videos but i apparently dont feel comfortable enough yet and also am scared of irls finding me so ur getting it as a tumblr post :( these are scattered through and are questions regarding both my dr but also shifting in general! enjoy!!!

・❥・ Can you share details about the 30 day mind reprogramming you did?

yes of course! for those of you who don't know, my first ever intentional shift to a reality i really wanted to go to happened during a 30 day mind reprogram sorta?? i don't know if i can really call it a mind reprogram, it was more of a "restarting ur shifting journey".

i got the inspiration for it from a discord server in which every channel was dedicated to a day 1-30. every day you'd enter a channel and do the tasks within the channel. i ended up leaving the server because i felt it was rather tailored to mcu drs but i made my own little plan inspired by it.

i took a planner and wrote down tasks for everyday for 30 days. it wasn't just tasks such as "meditate" or "try to shift" etc. it was a mapped out plan for my shifting journey including tasks such as "write a letter to your dr self" "educate yourself on this shifting related topic". it kept me insanely motivated and connected me to my dr!

you can always map out your journey like this yourself with tasks you wanna do but if you're interested in my specific plan, i can always make a discord server similar to the one i was inspired by and help/guide you within the server! :) lmk

・❥・ If you don't script a faceclaim will you just look like yourself?

there are infinite realities with infinite possibilities and that includes your looks! i can't specifically tell you what will happen if you don't script anything but it usually aligns with your intentions or beliefs. if you do wanna script precautions and aren't quite set on looking like you do here, here are appearance things i script or how my appearance changed in drs:

- you dont need a faceclaim to shift or change ur appearance in a dr. you could always twist singular features or aspects about your appearance in your script. you don't like your green eyes? script you have brown ones etc.

- the thing i do, is i will pick a faceclaim but look more like a "mix" of the two of us. i know this can seem kinda scary or uncanny idk but features i like about her stay and features i like about myself stay. especially in drs in which i am significantly older than here, this has helped me visualize a lot because i have very teenagy features and seeing myself as a middle aged adult was kinda hard.

- beauty standards arent the same across all realities and you can use that for your advantage. things i am truly insecure about here, i often script to be THE aspired beauty standard in my dr and this has made me more confident here aswell.

in my personal case, whenever i don't script my appearance i end up looking like here, except for some features because my body or looks adjust to my surroundings. example for this is the fact i am way skinnier in my star wars dr due to intense training or my skin is better in my fame dr due to a personalized expensive skincare routine.

・❥・Do you have trouble differentiating between actors in your fame dr and characters they might play in other drs?

it depends on the actor and their roles. a lot of my star wars co stars are just so immensely different from the characters they play that it is hard to see them alike and it feels like they only share a face. additionally i struggle with memories from my dr and often can't carry personal feelings across realities so i sort of forget i know them in a different form aswell.

i do sometimes struggle with grudges and i'll hold them across realities which can be kind of confusing and unfair for the other person but i think i am getting better at ignoring those. i think at the end of the day i don't see differenciating them as a necessity and look at them more as eachothers variants like portrayed in the mcu.

・❥・DR RELATED: How did you and your S/O meet and get together?

this question was targeted at my fame dr so if youre new my s/o is gong yoo and im a hollywood actress in my 30s!

i love this question sm stop anyways so. i didn't really script a "get together" story but i did script the circumstance under which we met. i wrote an action movie about the multiverse here and scripted it into my dr. for lore reasons the movie's cast was split into half south korean actors and half hollywood provided actors. ofc we both got casted and our characters were usually on screen together.

i didn't really meet him on set though but in a language course. the movie was supposed to be appealing to both sides of media so depending on context or scene it was filmed in korean or english. all cast members had to be somewhat stable and confident in both languages and the directors thought, the most productive way to make us learn, would be to have us all take classes together and teach eachother.

i can't say that it was love at first sight HELP. because our characters were so relevant in eachothers lore we usually practiced together to both learn and bond but we are both very frustrated language learners so this wasn't always easy. i remember usually walking out the course and thinking hes kind of an ass whoops.

we ended up meeting again a few weeks later on set, and from then on we became really good friends and we ended up teaching eachother more on set than in the course. our scenes together took about 8 weeks to film and at some point, his character had to k1ll my role. it was a rather gruesome and gorey scene to film and while it didn't affect me much he felt rather bad filming it and so after our day on set was over, he was all "let me take you out" and i was obv all "you don't have to do that" but he insisted because he felt bad for having to pretend to do that so i agreed.

we were filming in LA at that time so i showed him the place we ate at and we walked there to have him see some stuff. throughout the date i randomly got confused about if this is even a date or not help but since i am pretty straightforward i just asked if it was and he very awkwardly said yes so we decided it is one lmao. after this we just kept going on dates every now and then after filming and showing eachother around depending on where we were filming. eventually filming got to an end and we lost contact for a while until the whole cast reunited once in seoul and he told me he wanted to try again and be official and exclusive 🙍🏻‍♀️💕

[eddieisashifter]

✶⋆.˚ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐃 — ​🇲​​🇾​ ​𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ 𝕎𝔸ℝ𝕊 ​🇷​​🇪​​🇦​​🇱​​🇮​​🇹​​🇾​

❝the force is more than just an energy field, it is a living thing. and like any living thing, it creates. it creates life, energy, creativity. it creates every feeling that rises up in your chest and very spark of inspiration that crosses your mind. it brings breath to your lungs at clarity to your mind. it creates life. it created...you.❞ ❝don't be fooled by those who are petty enough to keep you beneath them, my son. rise. rise like you were always meant to. you are a phoenix, breaking out from your ashes of normativity and being reborn into something more. learn from the jedi, let yourself be teachable, but do not forget where you come from. you are the stars, act like it.❞

✶⋆.˚ EDDI MORTE — THE CHILD OF THE STARS, GREY JEDI he/they transmasc non-binary alban jedi padawan 17 years bisexual

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝no one quite knows where he came from. he was brought to the jedi temple with all the other younglings, but he's always been different. he was made a padawan younger than anyone else. he's strong with the force. he's one to be reckoned with on the battlefield. some say he's stronger than the chosen one. some say he's a fraud. but, no one knows the truth.❞

THE PAST & PRESENT

I was born on the remote outer rim planet of alba and raised by my druid mother, who taught me to revere the living force and it's personifications, the gods of mortis. I was given to the jedi early after a dream my mother had. she told me this is where I was destined to be. and I suppose she was right.

training with the other younglings felt so circumstantial. i'd much rather be silent and feel the force on the move. my unconvential methods got me put with an unconventianal master—plo koon.

master plo and I saw eye to eye on many things, however we never did quite agree on the nature of the force. my mother raised me to revere every part of the force—the light and the dark. and having both inside of you made you whole as a person. after all, it was just as unnatural to be whole good as it was to be wholly evil. the rest of the jedi didn't quite share my views, though if I didn't mention it much, they didn't see it as enough of a problem to address.

one person got it, ahsoka tano. she always did understand me better than myself. master skywalker's padawan was just the right kind of reckless to counteract my more thoughtful approach. she pulled me out of my shell and I helped me not walk off of cliffs. we made a perfect duo.

however, as the war continues, I begin to question everything. as well as my place in it. are the jedi truly the keepers of peace? or are they just as corrupt as the enemy they claim to stand against?

the force is at war with itself. the future is clouded.

THE FUTURE

my dissatisfaction with the council and the order leads me to make reckless choices. a boldness I hadn't known before this. I steal a forbidden holocron taken from a sith temple generations ago. this curiosity leads me into the council's crosshairs. instead of backing down, I call out the corruption I see between the jedi and the senate. they do not like that. after a swift trial, I am promptly expelled from the order and exiled from coruscant.

i return to my home planet for a few years before receiving a distress call from ahsoka, whom I'd given my comm for emergencies. however, I can't get through to her. I return to coruscant to find the temple burning. the republic has fallen into darkness, just as I predicted.

I try to search for ahsoka afterwards, praying that she survived. on my search, I end up running into a rogue group of clones who seemed to have survived the fall of the republic and rise of the darkness of the empire. the bad batch, as they call themselves, are looking for safety and a fresh start. I stay with them for awhile, helping where I can until its too dangerous for me to stay with them. I was named an enemy of the republic when I was expelled, there's no way to know what the empire thinks of me now. I do help them find their lost brother before parting ways.

through my travels across the galaxy, I start helping where I can. alba becomes my safe base through all of this. during this time, I start experimenting more with my abilities, tapping into things the jedi never let me touch. it feels good, powerful, however it's quickly overwhelming.

my mother does what she can, however she knows she needs someone to get through to me. and she finds the comm to ahsoka. by some miracle, ahsoka responds and comes to find me. she helps avoid falling too far into something I can't come back from. after seeing her fear, I vow to never let her become fearful like that because of me again.

ahsoka and I hide out on alba for years, reconnecting and starting to walk down the middle grey path together. we use one another for accountability, keeping each other in check to avoid letting what happened to me happen again.

eventually, we do get found and after fighting off the empire's invasion, we both know we have to be back into the fight. we come fulcrum together—the rebel informant.

after a long time of being in the shadows, we join up with the ghost crew. it feels good to be on the front lines again—even if kanan doesn't exactly trust me. I can't blame him though, it can be a bit disconcerting to see someone wield dual sabers—one white and purified and the other red like the sith. however, the blades are perfectly me.

ahsoka's death crushes me and I take awhile to recover from it. however, I stay on with the ghost crew, seeing them like a second family that reminds me of the 104th. finding wolffe makes that memory a reality. and when ahsoka returns, brought back by ezra, I leave to go find her.

we fight with the rebellion for a long time—until the empire is defeated. before we both fix our sights on the last piece of the puzzle—thrawn.

he's got to be out there somewhere. and if he is, then ezra is with him. and we've got to bring him home.

now playing....

foreigner's god — hozier 0:37 ──⚬──── 3:36 ⇆ ◃◃ ıı ▹▹ ↻

next in the 104th battalion queue;

religion — isak danielson when it rains — paramore take me to church — hozier brick by boring brick — paramore the line — twenty one pilots feed the machine — poor man's poison running with the wolves — aurora as the world caves in — matt maltese the news — paramore runaway — aurora

[greenleaf4stuff]

I hope you don’t mind me asking (and please feel free to ignore if it’s too nosy!), but I am so intrigued by your choice to pair Adar with Celebrimbor in your fic (and did you invent SilverScars per chance? I'm not sure of the origin of this ship 🥰). 🖤✨

As they never met or interacted on screen, I'm so curious about what inspired this pair and this dynamic.... Like what made you think of it in the first place🤔💭

Excuse my curiosity getting the better of me, but I'd love to hear what sparked your gorgeous story! 💬🌿🛠️🩸

★·.·´¯·.·★⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆★·.·´¯·.·★

Hiii and hello! Thank you so much for your question (and your kind words about my fic!), @varda-star-queen, and no worries, I am always down for talking about silverscars! :D

Starting with the easiest bit - while I am very flattered by the thought, I didn't invent the ship nor its name! The first fic that I am aware of about these two was written by @plotdesigner and is called 'Hand in Gauntleted Hand'. The shipname itself came after, I got asked this question by someone else before and collected my 'research' in this post. (situations like these are when I am glad for my tagging system! XD)

As to why I ended up thinking of this pairing and began to ship them, and write about them, I think I saw so many parallels and similarities between them that got me; they both died the same season (though of course I still hope they might bring Adar back in the future), both of them through Sauron and rather painfully and tragically. They both don't have partners, they are leaders of their people, manipulated and used for Sauron's means. They both ended up resisting and defying him in some way, too, whether by (seemingly) killing him and freeing the uruk in the past, or by refusing Sauron's demands, and even Adar's decision to turn away from war and violence can be seen as resistance imo.

There are also differences that I found interesting; Celebrimbor likely lived through a sped up version of (some of) what Adar went through in the past under Sauron. One is the sole heir of an influential, famous elven family, the last of his line, the other is a nameless, former elf with no ancestors that we know of, first of his line, with many children, whether literally or figuratively. (To me it almost feels like a 'past and future' presentation.) Celebrimbor was named by his parents, Adar chose his own name. Celebrimbor is held in high esteem and founded his own city, Adar has to fight for the right to survive and have a home for his children, leading him to found Mordor. Adar founds Mordor in s1, Celebrimbor has his home destroyed by the end of s2.

(Also, I wasn't super versed in Silm lore when I started the series, but learning more about Celebrimbor's family history has only added more points to this; both of them must have lived through countless battles in Arda, perhaps even experienced the same ones from different 'sides'? And there are multiple references to Feanor in the series, with Celebrimbor's actions and deeds often being weighed and compared against those of his grandfather. Meanwhile, Adar is held responsible for and associated with Sauron and his cruelties. Influences they, likely, cannot so easily separate from and try to overcome, by besting Feanor and disavowing Sauron respectively.)

It's an intriguing combination of similarities and differences, to me at least.

And on a more personal level, my thought was that, if they met, a post-Sauron Celebrimbor might look at Adar and see the things he himself has just suffered and survived, and might therefore find a level of understanding and empathy for Adar that other elves might not reach; after all, if he has been manipulated and driven to create the Rings of Men despite his better judgement, someone else could have similar (and worse) happen to them as well, couldn't they? (He readily worked with Elrond and the dwarves, didn't have any reservations against Halbrand, showed understanding towards Galadriel.)

Meanwhile, Adar might see (a version of) his own past reflected at him, similar to what he did with Galadriel in the tent, though with Celebrimbor's experiences being different than hers. I imagine Adar might be able to help Celebrimbor move on from and overcome his trauma and guilt due to his own experiences and knowledge, give him guidance, and an understanding other elves may not be able to give Celebrimbor, due to not having endured the same thing.

I suppose that is the main thing that drew me in - in a sense, their individual experiences with Sauron serve as a connection between them, even if the two never meet on screen. (One might even argue that Sauron pits them directly against each other, via the siege.) Therefore, these experiences might work as a base from which they could build mutual understanding, empathy, and perhaps even more.

(Which, I also like the implications of that in general - that people who come from very different walks of life can recognize their similarities, set aside their differences, find comfort and connection in, and empathy for, each other after surviving awful things, help each other heal, and become stronger through this mutual kindness, affection, friendship (and more).)

And, as for what intrigues me about them being in a relationship - I think it is again a mix of similarities and differences. They both have elven roots. They are both leaders to their people and care about them, they have their own realms (though at different states, with Celebrimbor's either being finished or destroyed, and Adar's in its infancy), they are very driven when it comes to what they consider important. Celebrimbor is a craftsman, Adar has mostly known the fight for survival and is a fighter. Celebrimbor is royalty, Adar is not. Adar might be significantly older than Celebrimbor, the two have very different experiences of what happened through the ages.

It provides a lot of potential - for growth, understanding, drama, banter, humor, fluff, angst, healing, character studies, friendship, romance...

(As a sidenote, I also gravitate more towards m/m ships, which likely factors into this. Plus I think the fact that neither of them have canon partners in the series might have made me go "Oh look, wouldn't it be neat if they had someone as well?")

That being said, I could likely ramble even more. There is just a lot about silverscars that speaks to me, both when it comes to the individual characters and their potential as a ship. I hope that answered your question? I'd love to know!

(And, if anyone wants to add onto this post with their own impressions or ideas, I'd enjoy hearing them! <3)