#I'm starting to have a feeling I just want more fire...

[always-azriels-princess]

Hi I love your imagines of azriel I was wondering could you do a one where azriel is jealous beacuse someone from the night court is getting to friendly and Y/n is indulging that someone beacuse she thinks azriel is out of her league .

A/N: girl thank you so much that literally brightened my whole day!

I have no clue if they do presents on the summer solstice but just roll with it :)

This didn't go exactly the way i planned it but I think it turned out ok. hope you like it!

Also i'm so sorry this took so long, I took like a month-long Tumblr break

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

I'm Right Here

The sun shone brightly down as you walked down the cobblestone street, shopping bags filled with summer solstice presents. Gentle rays shone across your face and brightened up your eyes. A smile graced your face as you looked up at the sky, a flap of wings momentarily casting shadows across your body. The owner landed beside you and immediately took your bags into his own arms. His shadows immediately tangled in your hair and wove up and down your body.

"Well hello to you too" you giggled, twirling your fingers as the shadows danced between them.

The corner of Azriel's lips turned upwards as he remarked, "I think they like you better than me at this point."

You teased, "Well of course they would, what's not there to love?" It was a rhetorical question, so you started walking, expecting he would follow behind. What you didn't hear is how Azriel mumbled, "My point exactly," before falling into step beside you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That evening was the solstice bonfire, a party that was attended by more than half of Velaris. The red and orange flames drifted higher and higher, embers that looked like flying stars circling all around.

You stood on the side, quietly observing the festivities. Dancing wasn't really your thing, seeing as you had two left feet in the opposite shoes. A drink in your hand, your gaze drifted across the couples dancing and nodding their heads to the upbeat song currently playing, until it caught on a male standing in the shadows.

You could feel your lips turn up as soon as you found him, and you started making your way over. He was glaring at the party-goers, oblivious to you, as his shadows loped over his shoulders and up and down his body.

You snuck around the tables that had been set up, filled to the edge with every type of food you could imagine. As you reached him, you stretched your hands out in an attempt to cover his eyes. Before you could touch him, you felt the cool kiss of two shadows grabbing onto your wrists, dragging your arms down and pulling you around until you faced their master, a sheepish look stretching across your face.

"Whoops," you laughed nervously. "Wrong person, sorry."

You tried to back away slowly, but scarred hands gripped your hips, bringing you back.

Azriel's hazel eyes stared down at you, the reflection of the bonfire glinting in them as he quirked his lips. "Wrong person? Who, pray tell, were you meaning to sneak up on? I know you surely made made a mistake because you should know that would never work on me." He bent down until his lips brushed against the outer shell of your ear. "I've trained you much better than that."

You hoped the fire would be a sufficient reason for the flush spreading across your cheeks.

Az leaned back, a smirk adorning his lips. You internally frowned, thinking it wasn't fair for him to look like a freaking Adonis. His hair fell perfectly across his brows, and you wanted nothing more than to tangle your fingers and run your hands through it. How could you ever compare to him?

A pang of self doubt laced through your heart, and your minuscule frown became apparent on your face. You quickly schooled your features, but your emotions were not lost on Azriel.

He tugged you gently. "Hey hey, what's wrong?" His eyes searched yours, automatically trying to fix the problem he didn't even know was there. His shadows wrapped themselves comfortingly around you, tangling in your hair.

You smiled slightly, "Nothing Az. I'm all good."

He looked unsure, but then nodded, eyes still noting your every move. You smiled again, one a little more genuine, and then tugged your hand from his. You immediately felt the loss of warmth and missed his touch.

"I'm going to get a drink, ok? I'll be right back," you told him.

Azriel smiled gently. "Don't be too long, I need a dancing buddy."

You smiled in amusement. "Riiiiight, we'll see about that. You might need a medic buddy instead, after that disaster."

You turned around, heading towards the drinks table, completely missing Azriel smiling wistfully at your back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you poured some fruity drink into one of the fresh cups on the table, you saw a shadow approach you in the corner of you eye and you turn, grinning. Your smile immediately falls when you see the fae male standing in front of you, the complete opposite of who you wanted it to be. Blonde hair, blue eyes, arms and shoulders devoid of any floating wisps.

He smiled nervously, and your heart sank. "Oh no," you thought. "This was going to end badly."

"Uh, hey?" The male cleared his throat. "Ahem, I meant, hey." His voice was suddenly two octaves lower and you couldn't help but giggle at him. His face lit up, as if delighted to have gotten a reaction from you. He continued, "Yea so, I saw you from all the way over there," he points to the other side of the clearing, "and I thought you were really cute, so my stupid friends dared me to come over here and talk to you, and it's totally fine though if you don't, but I just ask that you pretend to be sad and then walk away or something so I don't get teased for the next month." He cut himself off and then grimaced. "Sorry I start ranting when I get nervous."

You assured him, "No, seriously, don't even worry about it. The exact same thing happens to me literally all the time."

He looked relieved, and stuck his hand out. "My name's Aric."

You smiled and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you," you said, smiling slightly.

Your mind automatically thought of Azriel, waiting patiently for you back at the edge of the dancing. You glanced back, seeing if you could spot him from all the way over there, and your heart dropped. There he was, talking to a pretty Illyrian female who was smiling up at him like he had hung the stars in the sky. You swallowed with a lump in your throat, and turned back to Aric.

You didn't even realize he had been talking the whole time. You interrupted, saying, "I'm so sorry, what was that?"

Aric laughed nervously, "Oh, I was just asking if you wanted to dance?" The end of his sentence curved up at the end, like he was asking a question.

"Oh, umm..." you hesitated, but then thought of Azriel clearly enjoying his time with that female, and replied, "you know what, I would love to."

Aric's face relaxed, and a deep breath escaped him as his face showed a look of pure relief. "O-ok, great!"

The male took your hands and led you to the center of the dance floor, before wrapping his arms around your waist. But before he could even touch you, a muscled arm grabbed his arm and twisted sharply. Aric cried out in pain, and Azriel bent down to his level.

"If you ever go near her again, I will rip this arm off, rip out your nails, stab them in your eye, cut off your feet, and shove them down your throat." He says it quietly, but it was unmistakable the overwhelming amount of anger and rage he was barely able to control. He was practically vibrating.

You snap out of your shock, and grab his arm, trying to get him to let go of the male. His grip finally loosened, and Aric ran off with his tail between his legs. Azriel turned slowly, as if fearing the scene behind him, as he rightfully should. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you. It was silent, and then you crossed your arms and said, "I'm going to give you 10 seconds to explain".

"I know you're angry," he started, his hands coming up to pull you even closer. "But he was touching you where he shouldn't have been. What was I suppose to do?"

You scoff. "I don't know, maybe LEAVE US ALONE!"

Azriel's hands come up in a placating position, "Sweetheart-"

"Nuh uh, don't you 'sweetheart' me," you respond. "You had no reason to interrupt. You clearly shouldn't have, seeing as your female friend ran off as well." You motioned to where the two had been standing.

Confusion flitted across his face. "Who?"

You sighed, exasperated. "The pretty Illyrian you were talking to like five minutes ago!"

The confusion stayed on Azriel's face, before it disappeared and an adoring expression took its place. He teased, "You mean Alycia? The Illyrian I rescued from a wing clipping two years ago who I was just congratulating on her engagement?"

An embarrassed look passed across your face, and Azriel chuckled.

He took a step impossibly closer, his voice soft but firm. "Angel, there is no one else for me but you. You're mine, and no one can touch what's mine."

You rolled your eyes in disbelief. "Azriel, what are you talking about?"

"Exactly what I'm saying, sweetheart. I've been trying so hard to get your attention, but nothing I do works."

You blinked, confusion flooding your expression. A kernel of hope planted itself in your chest. "What are you saying?"

Azriel hesitated, but then decided it was now or never. "I can’t pretend like I don’t care about you, because I do. More than I ever thought possible. I'm saying I love you, angel."

You expression was unreadable. Your lips parted, as if to speak, but nothing came out at first. Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of hesitation, but there was none. You smirked, "Well that's good Shadowsinger, because I love you too."

You closed the gap, pressing your lips against his, slow at first, and then it was like fireworks exploded. His hands wrapped securely around your waist, and your hands finally tangled in his hair like you had always dreamed about. It was like everything else, the music, the people around you, had faded away and the only thing left was the beautiful male standing in front of you.

You regretfully pulled away, and leaned your forehead against his. "I never in a million years thought this could happen."

Azriel pulled away, "Now I'm confused; what do you mean?"

"Well, you know, you look like you, and I look like...well, me." You explain it as if it's the clearest thing in the world.

Your male responded, "Sweetheart, I don't think you understand just how amazing you are. You are so kind, and smart, and funny, and so amazingly gorgeous I thank the gods every day just to have met you. I am the lucky one here, and I am going to spend every waking minute reminding you of that."

You smiled softly up at him, your eyes misting over.

Azriel straightened up, smiled a full, genuine smile, and said, "Now, I think it's time you owed me that dance."

[grison-in-space]

I have funding until mid May unless my PI finds more somewhere (*high pitched laughter*) and her best advice for me as a postdoc is to go into IT and get out of science at least temporarily. I started my PhD in god-damned 2012, just in time for the 2013 shutdown, got it in 2020 despite four major housing disruptions and my advisor deciding that he was entitled to murder my career in its cradle because I made him feel ooky for constantly sending me down wrong ends.

I fished my career out of the soup by going from a NSF EEB-oriented neuroendocrinology specialty to working on the impact of neurodivergence on motivation and decision-making, especially in terms of sex and gender. It will be essentially impossible to replace my extremely unusual background and perspective in the field. Tough titties, I guess, because I'm not in my twenties anymore and I can't absorb this kind of career abuse forever.

I'm so fucking angry and tired and sad all the fucking time and now I have to job hunt about it! And all I ever fucking wanted to do was figure shit out and put up with the precarity in service of generating knowledge that helps people understand themselves in relation to the natural world. I have spent the last thirteen fucking years trying to serve my country with my mind and my training and now I have to give up my fucking career because what, some self proclaimed leftists didn't want to sully their hands by voting for a killjoy woman. Again.

I don't want to get out of bed, but my chance to actually finish the really cool project I've spent the last four years working on so that people believe I have skills is evaporating under me if I don't. I am so so so so angry and tired about it and I feel betrayed all the time. I worked so hard for this. I structured my whole adult life around this fucking career and I feel completely thrown away, especially since we are getting starved out rather than fired.

I'm so angry and heartsick and it's not fair. I should know better than to think life is fair, but fuck, I'm so exhausted and angry and full of grief about this bullshit. I don't even believe there will be consequences for anyone involved. Certainly the international job market won't be able to absorb us all, which means we get to flood the local skilled knowledge markets and drive wages down because our labor is apparently fucking worthless.

I just want to cry all the time. I'm trying to step forward where I can but it's hard when you're out of time and the plan is to starve you out rather than fire you outright. My mentor is looking for options but where is she going to find them?

It's so painful. It really feels like a confirmation of how much scientists are valued (not much, since giving us a pathway to a steady, comfortable life isn't a fucking priority). Why do I have to be graceful about the pain of it?

I've hesitated to write anything about the federal cuts and their impact on science infrastructure in the US, in part because I just don't know where to start.

How to express my rage, or my sadness, or the panic I feel as a scientist currently funded on a federal grant. Or watching the careers of colleagues, friends, and loved ones hang in the balance or be destroyed entirely.

I don't know what to say. My heart aches for those who were doing the important work not only of science but also of making it more accessible, equitable, and diverse. Some of these scientists lost their salary, benefits, and funding overnight. My heart aches knowing that the science we are still able to do will be so much less vibrant without their contributions, should they be unable to return to science.

I've watched over the last few weeks as several of my potential career paths went up in smoke. Federal agency jobs gone, slashes to funding slowing academic science to a halt and resulting in hiring freezes. What jobs there are still now have an applicant pool that tripled overnight.

I have no idea what the future holds, but there is a very real and present possibility that I will not be able to do science as a career. I'm not going down without a fight, but nevertheless it looms as a potential reality for which I have to plan.

I began my PhD in 2018. I withstood so much emotional turmoil, a pandemic, loss and grief and doubt, and I came out the other side with those three letters after my name. I knew there would be hard times again but I also believed surely that nothing would ever be as arduous or difficult as that again. I had survived a PhD; I could do anything.

If you've gotten this far, thanks for reading. If you've been affected by this, I'm wishing you well and my DMs are always open. Call your reps. Nurture your community.

[spencerfuckngreid]

Burning Up || Spencer Reid + 18

· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader · Category: Angst, Smut · Warning: Soft sex, happy ending. · Words: 3082 · Summary : A tension exists between you and Spencer. He actively resists and maintains distance every time you come near. He has an internal conflict between what is right and what is wrong. · Inspiration: Song: "Burning Up" Madonna

· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind! · Masterlist · TikTok

The room was charged with a subtle electricity that always seemed to build between you two. The rest of the team had already left to rest or go over leads in other areas, leaving you alone with Spencer.

You had tried to focus on the files in front of you—the photographs, the scattered notes on the table—but your eyes kept drifting toward him. Seated across from you, hunched over his notebook, Spencer scribbled something with the intensity of someone trying to find a logical way through chaos.

It was that intensity that drew you in—it always had. Spencer had an aura that made him seem untouchable, as if his mind operated on a level no one else could reach. And yet, the more time you spent near him, the clearer it became that there was something beneath the surface. Something vulnerable. Something passionate. Something he worked hard to bury under layers of professionalism.

"Don't put me off, 'cause I'm on fire."

The lyric echoed in your mind, and you bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

"Y/N, are you listening?" His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You blinked, realizing you'd been staring in his direction—though not directly at him. "Yeah, yeah… of course. What were you saying?"

Spencer frowned slightly, adjusting his glasses with a quick motion before pointing at the map spread out on the table. "I said that the profile suggests the suspect will likely return to where it all started. It’s a pattern that—"

"Uh-huh, I get that," you interrupted gently, leaning forward to get a better look at the map. "But what if that’s exactly what he wants us to think? What if he's breaking the pattern on purpose? I know it’s not typical… not a common choice… but at this point, we should at least consider it."

Spencer studied you, his brown eyes scanning you with curiosity. He always appreciated a fresh perspective, but this time, his gaze lingered a little longer than necessary before shifting back to the map.

"Do you wanna see me down on my knees?"

The lyric hit you harder this time, making you press your lips together. There was something about the way he always pulled back whenever you got too close that only made you want to push his limits even more.

"It’s a possibility..." he finally said, breaking the silence. "But the pattern is the only solid lead we have right now."

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as you looked at him, frustrated. "Always so logical, Doctor."

"It’s my job," he replied without looking up, his attention still on the papers.

"And it’s also what keeps you safe, isn’t it?" The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Spencer’s head snapped up. "What do you mean by that?"

"You hide behind logic, Spencer," you said, leaning forward. "It’s your shield. But some things aren’t logical—you can’t just avoid them because they scare you."

He blinked, caught off guard by your bluntness, but before he could respond, you pushed yourself up from your chair. "I’m getting coffee. Do you want anything?"

He shook his head but didn’t say anything else. As you walked out of the room, you could feel his eyes on your back, and it only made you want to turn around and challenge him again.

"I'm burning up, burning up for your love," you thought, clenching your fists as you made your way to the coffee machine.

The words you had thrown at Spencer still echoed in your mind as you waited for the coffee to finish brewing. You had crossed a line, and while you didn’t regret it, you knew he wouldn’t just let it slide.

Back in the conference room, Spencer was exactly where you had left him—except his posture had changed. His back was stiff against the chair, and his pen, usually in constant motion, lay motionless on his notebook. When you closed the door behind you, he looked up, his expression more guarded than usual.

"What was that all about?" His tone was colder than you expected.

"What was what?" you asked, trying to keep your tone light as you walked closer.

"That whole thing about me hiding behind logic." Spencer stood up to face you, adjusting his glasses. "I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but if this has anything to do with—"

"—you and me," you interrupted, setting your coffee down on the table with more force than necessary. "That’s exactly what it has to do with."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to argue. But instead, he looked away, his gaze dropping back to the papers. "There is no 'you and me,' Y/N. This is work, and the only thing that matters is solving this case."

The way he said it—so sharp, so final—should have made you back off. But instead, it only fueled something inside you, a need to break through that carefully crafted façade of perfection.

"Are you really going to keep pretending you don’t feel anything, Reid?" you asked, stepping closer. "That you don’t notice how the air changes when we’re in the same room?"

"What I notice," he started, pushing himself up from his chair, "is that you’re crossing lines you shouldn’t be crossing."

"That you want to want me, but you can't let go," you thought as you watched him. You could see the way his self-control tightened, as if every word was a struggle to hold his ground.

"Maybe those lines shouldn’t be there," you said softly, taking another step forward. You were close enough now to catch the light, clean scent of his cologne.

"Y/N, stop..." His voice was low, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you.

"I can’t stop." You moved even closer, forcing him to step back until his back met the wall. "And neither can you, so stop trying."

He lifted his hands slightly, as if to create some invisible barrier between you, but his eyes betrayed the war raging inside him. "This isn’t right," he said, his voice laced with an intensity that almost made you hesitate. "We can’t do this. I can’t do this."

But he didn’t move away. His hands remained raised—but he didn’t touch you, didn’t push you back. His eyes stayed locked on yours, and the tension in his body was almost tangible.

"Then say it," you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t want—"

His lips parted, like he was about to say the words. But nothing came out. Instead, his breathing quickened, and his hands slowly dropped to his sides.

"That’s what I thought," you said, your tone victorious but laced with quiet softness.

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering every ounce of willpower. "This is a mistake," he murmured finally.

"Maybe." You leaned in just enough so that your face was inches from his. "But some mistakes are worth making."

Spencer took a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself, but it wasn’t working. "This can’t happen," he said more firmly, stepping to the side to put space between you. "Not just because it would be inappropriate, but because… because it wouldn’t work."

You followed him, moving back into his path, challenging every barrier he tried to put up. "It wouldn’t work? Or you don’t want it to work because it would complicate your perfect, structured life?"

"It’s not that!" The words came out too fast, too forceful. He immediately glanced toward the door, as if worried someone else might have heard. Then, in a lower voice, he added, "This isn’t about avoiding complications. It’s about doing the right thing."

"And what if the right thing doesn’t feel right?" you challenged, tilting your head.

"Then we ignore it," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest as if that could shield him from the weight of your words.

"Do you wanna see me down on my knees?"

The lyric echoed in your mind, giving you the push to take this one step further.

"You’re not as good at lying to yourself as you think, Spencer," you said, stepping closer again. "Not with me."

"Y/N," he murmured, and this time, there was something almost pleading in his tone. "Please, don’t make this harder."

"Harder for who? You?" You held his gaze, unwavering. "Because for me, this is simple. I know what I want. And what I want is standing right in front of me."

The color in his cheeks deepened, but his posture remained rigid. "It's not that simple," he said, though his voice no longer carried the same conviction.

"Why not? Why are you afraid of feeling something you can’t control? Why won’t you admit that you’re already feeling it?"

The silence that followed was deafening, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, Spencer stepped back, putting the smallest but most significant distance between you.

"I can’t do this," he said, his voice low, as if each word drained his energy. "Not with you. Not now. I’m sorry."

Disappointment tangled with frustration, but you knew he wasn’t running because he felt nothing. He was running because he felt too much.

"Fine. Have it your way," you finally said, stepping back. "I won’t push you anymore. I just... I can’t pretend this isn’t happening. If you’re ever ready… tell me. But I won’t wait forever."

Spencer looked at you, his eyes reflecting the war within him, the battle he couldn’t put into words. He didn’t stop you as you gathered your things and walked out of the room.

Out in the hallway, you leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly. "I'm burning up, burning up for your love," you murmured to yourself, letting the song finish the sentence you couldn’t say out loud.

—

The hotel room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the small bedside lamp. You had tried to distract yourself with case reports, but the words on the screen blurred into meaninglessness. Every time you closed your eyes, the confrontation replayed in your mind: the conflict in Spencer’s gaze, the way he said no… but also how he hadn’t been able to step away until the very last second.

"Unlike the others, I'd do anything."

The lyrics echoed in your head like a taunt, mocking your attempts to stay calm.

You got up from the bed, unable to stay still. There was something suffocating in the air, a mixture of regret and longing that kept you moving, as if pacing back and forth could silence the thoughts running wild in your head.

Across the hall, Spencer sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His hair was a mess, his glasses sitting on the table beside the phone. He hadn’t even tried to sleep—how could he, after what had happened?

He had gone over every word, every look, searching for a logical angle, a way to make sense of what had transpired. But there was no logic that could save him from what he felt: guilt, yes, but also an unrelenting desire burning beneath his skin.

"This can’t happen," he whispered to himself, as if saying it aloud could make it true. But even as he spoke, his eyes drifted toward the door, as if something—someone—on the other side was pulling him in.

At some point during the night, your paths crossed again. Maybe it was chance, or maybe it was inevitable. When you opened your door to step out for some air, you found him in the hallway, his face pale, his eyes dark.

"Spencer," you whispered.

"I needed… to walk," he said, though it was obvious he was looking for something more than that.

Silence stretched between you, thick with everything neither of you dared to say.

Until finally, he shook his head. "I shouldn’t be here."

"But you are." You took a step closer.

His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, both of you stood frozen, caught in a place with no turning back.

"It’s too much," he admitted in a breath, his voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know how to handle it."

"You don’t have to handle it," you murmured, stepping close enough that he could feel your warmth. "Just… go with it."

Spencer didn’t move, as if fighting every instinct in his body. But when he finally looked up at you, there were no more defenses in his eyes—only raw, consuming desire.

"I can't keep pretending," he murmured, stepping toward you.

"Then don’t," you whispered.

The space between you disappeared in an instant. His mouth found yours with a desperation that stole your breath, his hands gripping your face as if afraid you’d vanish. Spencer had always been methodical, in control—but in that moment, there was none of that. He was pure fire, everything he had suppressed finally unleashed.

Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer as you stumbled backward into the room. The door slammed shut behind you, but you barely noticed. All that mattered was the weight of his body pressing against yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, the low, ragged sounds escaping his throat.

"This is insane," he muttered against your skin, though his lips kept moving along your neck.

"I think you need a little insanity," you teased, breathless, fingers tangling in his hair as his hands roamed your back with a frantic kind of urgency.

For Spencer, this moment felt like crossing a line he had never thought he would. But in the end, he realized he had been standing on the edge of that line since the moment he met you.

The air was thick, heavy with heat. His breath mingled with yours, uneven, as his lips traced your neck, alternating between kisses and gentle bites that made your head spin.

"This isn’t—" he started, his voice a whisper against your skin. But there was something desperate in the way he touched you, as if he needed to feel you, to confirm that this wasn’t just a dream.

There was no time for more words. Spencer’s logic, his self-control, his professionalism—everything unraveled. With a near-violent impulse, you pushed him toward the bed. Clothes—an obstacle neither of you could ignore—began to fall away between kisses and gasps. Every movement was a battle, a push and pull between his deeply ingrained restraint and the undeniable force of desire. But now, in this space, nothing was holding him back.

Your body burned under his touch, and though he tried to keep his distance, his hands betrayed him, exploring every inch of you, his palm gliding over your torso, down to your waist, as if he was finally allowing himself to have you. This wasn’t the distant, controlled Spencer you had known. This was a man on the edge—of need, of madness—consumed by what he felt for you.

"Y/N," he whispered between kisses, his voice raw, as if clinging to your name was the only thing grounding him. "This... I can't..."

You didn’t let him finish. You silenced him with a kiss, deep and hungry, and he laughed into your mouth. There was no case to solve, no walls left to break down. Just the need to be together, no more excuses.

With a determined move, you pushed him back, taking control, feeling the way he yielded under your touch. Spencer was completely in your hands, and for the first time, he didn’t seem to want to fight it. His grip on your back tightened, pulling you against him as if he needed the physical connection, the proof that this was real.

"I don’t know if I can handle what I feel," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. But when his hands found your face and he kissed you with a raw, burning intensity, it no longer mattered what he thought.

You moved with him, and the world blurred away. The softness of the bed beneath you, the heat of his body against yours, the way his lips trailed lower, leaving a path of fire across your skin... The rhythm between you was frantic, yet tender, as if both of you were trying to prove that this wasn’t a mistake, not like Spencer had tried to convince himself before.

Spencer paused for a moment, breathless, exhausted, looking down at you. "Y/N..." Everything was clear in that instant.

"Yes," you whispered, cupping his face, pulling him closer. And in that kiss, nothing else mattered. No words were needed. Everything between you finally made sense.

When the morning light filtered into the room, the silence between you had shifted. Spencer lay beside you, staring at the ceiling as if searching for patterns, lost in thought. Reality had changed—you had changed—and you both knew it. His mind was running a thousand miles per hour.

"I can’t... I can’t promise this won’t get complicated," Spencer murmured, his voice quiet but filled with the resistance that defined him.

"You don’t have to promise anything," you said, turning to face him, resting a hand on his chest, gentle. "What, you expect this to be easy? That sounds boring." You teased.

He gave a subtle, lopsided smile, and somehow it put him at ease, helping him come to terms with the situation.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. Neither of you knew what would come next, but for now, all you could do was accept it. The tension that had defined your relationship until now had transformed into something else entirely.

"You know you got me burning up, baby."

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[kedreeva]

This is for a story so it's not a huge deal (and there's already a bit of fantasy elements so I'm willing to handwave some stuff if necessary) but what would be the closest a peacock could get to hot pink? I saw purple morphs, but unfortunately my attempts at further research were inundated with AI slop and clickbait :(

Sooo, the closest that peafowl have CURRENTLY gotten to "pink" would probably be peach or European Violet.

Here is a good, light peach.

They are a very delicate, powder orange color. Genetically, they are cameo + purple, and the purple gene means they come in a paler version (light peach like above) and a darker version (dark peach or 'northern' peach as it's sometimes called, as it's often seen more in the northern US than the southern.... this could mean the variance is also more heavily affected by sun exposure, as sun exposure is less in the north). Here's what I mean by dark peach:

Your other "best bet" for current peafowl would be taupe, but taupe tends to be "cooler" than peach (ie, cold-color undertones, giving it a more "powder blue" feel than "powder orange" feel)

Here are a few Taupe birds in warm light

vs a taupe in cool light

Genetically, taupe is opal + purple, so you get a more grey look on them than the brighter cameo orange look.

Peach, being genetically a cameo, has no iridescence (it's "matte" in color), whereas taupe does still have some iridescence at least on the head.

Your other option is the european violet. While purples tend to look like strange blues in overcast weather, violets maintain their purple look even in dimmer lighting, and they tend to have a very "warm" purple compared to American purple's "cold" purple.

EV on an overcast day

vs american purple in shade

and EV in sun:

You can see a lot redder tones in the chest and wings than on purples.

So, those are what you'd be able to work with, for CURRENT birds. If there were a case of chromosomal crossover that could repeat to make "peach" but with cameo and EV, then maybe that bird would be pinker than peach.

But, what you ACTUALLY probably want, is a peafowl who has, like, erythrism and maybe pale leucism. Erythristic animals have high red phenotypes, and in some animals, like katydids, erythrism results in pink. Like HOT pink.

So a high-red animal would get you into the realm of at least having reds, if not just having pinks from the get-go, and then pale leucism does what it says on the tin and lightens colors over the whole body of the bird. In peafowl, you miiiiight get away with this effect using the silver white eye gene (the white eye allele that causes body "silvering" ie pale leucism effect.

For example, here's a cardinal with pale leucism:

So that's kinda where I would start with it. Erythrism + pale leucism.

But for peafowl, you would need to consider that RED as pigment is a really uncommon pigment for birds to produce all on their own. Cardinals and flamingos largely get their color from their diets (which are high in carotenoids), not necessarily by self-produced red pigments. There are some parrots who produce unique red pigments, but most of peafowl color comes from structural iridescence, not plain pigment.

So, any mutation that causes a difference in the structure of the barbules on the feathers could mean a fairly drastic change in the color we see on them (which is another important factor.... peafowl color includes ultraviolet spectrum that we don't see, but they do, so do your characters see into that spectrum? peafowl might already be pink to them). So rather than a gene that alters pigments, you could have a gene that alters feather structure. Stuff like satin in mice causes hollow fur and causes a mouse that looks shiny like it's made of satin. When peafowl get wet, their trains can look red or even fire orange.

[stellar-bluelock]

until the world knows your name ☆ itoshi rin x reader

details: fluff | hurt/comfort | childhood best friends | platonic/romantic relationship | ~1.1k words | gn! reader | if there's something i wanted to tell rin after the u-20's match, this is it lmao

On the night of the U-20 vs. Blue Lock XI exhibition match, you will never forget the way everyone's jaw drops when you ask where Itoshi Rin is.

"Rin?" Someone asks in confusion. "You wanna see him?"

You hear the other members whisper, but you're not that surprised.

If Rin hasn't changed throughout his stay in Blue Lock, it makes sense for his teammates to question how confidently you request for his presence.

"Uh, he was in the locker room when I saw him last. I don't know if he's still there...or if he's in the mood to see any visitors?"

Ah. The celebrated striker of the night, Isagi Yoichi.

"That's not unlike him," you respond. "But, could anyone tell him that I'm here to see him?"

One of the blue-haired members volunteers—a quick memory of remarkable passing abilities flashes in your mind. He asks for your name before returning inside the main building.

The chilly air bites at your face as you wait. For a few moments, silence hangs heavy in the atmosphere.

Well, up until someone opens their mouth. The dam breaks.

"Are you Rin's friend?"

"A secret sibling we didn't know about?"

"Significant other?"

"Guys, don't bother them."

You chuckle, a little amused at their curiosity.

(You'll never admit it, but there's a selfish joy you feel from being someone that Rin can trust wholeheartedly.)

"Best friend."

Your answer effectively cuts off their stream of questions—for a few seconds, at most.

The concept of Rin having a best friend seems entirely foreign to them.

"You're..."

"Wait, they're looking for Rin, right? Not Sae?"

"Are you also friends with Sae?"

"What the heck happened between those two-"

Oh, that's not territory they can cross.

"I won't entertain any other questions, sorry." You smile, perhaps a little too sweetly. "But anyway, congratulations on the game."

Some of the boys pout at being denied the chance to learn juicy information about their teammate; thankfully, they don't protest.

"Thanks, it was a tough one," Isagi states and you nod.

This is the first time you've met the striker, but your gut tells you that he's Rin's newest rival—if Rin's glare at the end of the match was anything to by.

"Even I couldn't tell how it was going to end," you admit. "You all had me at the edge of my seat."

"I was lucky to be in the right spot." Isagi pauses for a moment. "But, it only happened because Rin managed to get the ball."

He smiles but it falters for a moment. "I just wish that he was a little happier about the win, but at least he seems fired up!"

"That's Rin for you."

"Are you talking about me?"

At the sound of a new voice, everyone's head simultaneously turns to the facility's entrance.

Rin's eyes are narrowed in suspicion, but you see the way they widen a fraction when they land on you.

(You're not sure if anyone ever notices, but you always do.)

"Yes. I was looking for you."

"You should've gone home. It's getting late."

A few scandalized gasps escape from the group, but a quick glare from Rin shuts them up.

"Uh, we'll leave you to it...nice meeting you!" Isagi laughs nervously, hastily pushing the rest of the team away.

You chuckle at the chaos while Rin scoffs. However, as the rest of the Blue Lock members disappear from sight, you can see his shoulders relax more.

It's just you two now.

As you look at his expression, you realize that it holds a wild mix of emotions. You can't tell what it is just yet.

So, you start with what you know.

"What did Sae tell you on the field?"

The frown is immediate.

"Piece of shit," he seethes. "Didn't even acknowledge me. Talked to me just to praise that stupid Isagi."

You click your tongue. When you were all kids, Sae was never the best with words and talking to others.

(Even then, you find yourself wondering what the hell happened to him in Spain.)

"Just because he scored that damn goal." Rin clenches his fists. "The whole team was centered around me and my attack ability. I got that ball!"

He lowers his head, shaking in frustration. "But nothing. Everyone's cheering his name. Even my shitty brother would rather talk about him."

Hesitantly, you reach a hand out to brush his bangs to the side. Out of instinct, you nearly want to tell him that everything will be okay.

That's what you used to tell him in middle school; a bad match, a bad score on a test, a scolding from his parents, a minor injury, even small arguments with Sae.

But now...those words feel empty. Not when his life has truly turned upside down, for better or for worse.

"Rin?"

He hasn't pushed your hand away, so you get a clear view of his teal eyes, round and unguarded—the very ones that have been burned into your memory for years.

"Although your team won, you have every right to feel frustrated."

He sighs. "Finally. I've had enough of them telling me to cheer up."

"They've been pestering you all these months, huh?" You chuckle lightly.

"I'm sick of it. They keep thinking we're friends. We're not. They're all rivals. It's bullshit."

You recall Isagi trying to hug Rin on the field earlier, only to fail miserably; you can only imagine his and the others' futile attempts.

"Well, whatever the case, stay true to yourself, yeah?" You punch his arm lightly. "You are Itoshi Rin."

Though he doesn't smile, something in his eyes lights up.

"I am Itoshi Rin." He says quietly. "I don't need him. I'm not Itoshi Sae's little brother."

It almost seems like he's saying it to himself instead of you, but his statement makes you sigh in relief.

It's precisely what you (and perhaps Sae) wanted him to realize all this time.

"Yeah. You were never meant to live in his shadow. You're here to make a name for yourself. Rin, do you even know how many people in the world tuned in to this match?"

He shakes his head.

"It's all over the news. It's being streamed everywhere." You smile to yourself, recalling how excited you were to finally see him again.

"But listen, Rin. You held your own throughout the game. You scored a goal. You blasted through the U-20 defense. You managed that one-on-one with Sae. There are people out there that have their eyes on you."

You take his hands into yours, squeezing them gently.

"Whatever you feel about this match today, tomorrow, a week, or months from now, you need to keep them watching. Score the next goal, keep on playing. Don't stop until the world knows your name."

[shygirl4991]

More than an ogre Chapter 1

Inspired by He's a prince, and I'm an ogre by @b-r-i-n-g-x Art done by Bringx and @anartisticalniche Designs created by me!

Tag: Slow burn, Shrek movie inspired, action, adventure, comedy, angst,

Summary: SV3 grew up with fairy tales wishing for the day he could be a hero and save a royal from an evil dragon, over time he gave up such wishes after all there is no fairy tale where the ogre is the hero. Till the day a donkey crashed into his swamp changing his world, now the pair must work together to save a prince and get him to a wedding with his true love.

Chapter 1 Just an ogre

Once upon a time a hero on a stead rode off to battle a fire breathing dragon, a princess of legend was trapped in the castle waiting for the day someone would rescue her. Everyone told the hero not to risk his life, his whole village told him that such a risk wouldn't be worth it. Yet his heart told him what he must do, now he had arrived at the big battle. The dragon roared, breathing fire, as the dragon growled at him the hero couldn't help but notice all the corpses of the past knights that had attempted the rescue. He let out a shaky breath as he focused on the end goal, finding his true love. He charged at the dragon with his sword held high ready to slay the beast, the battle went on for hours. The hero was feeling weak, unsure if he could truly beat the dragon until he heard crying.

Knowing his love needed him, the hero’s grip on the sword tightened as he glared at the dragon “FOR MY TRUE LOVE!” With one final charge the hero plunges the sword into the beast chest, with a loud roar the hero pulls the sword cutting the dragon apart. With a loud thud the dragon was dead, the hero smiles brightly as he runs up the stairs ready to be with his true love. Once he opens the door the princess gasps running into his arms, the knight pulls himself away taking the princess hand and giving it a kiss. He pledged himself to the princess ensuring he will never leave her side as long as he lived, the very next day the two were married.                  ----------------------- A fairytale book gets closed by an excited orge, he flips his purple bangs as he hugs the book “AHH! This is so romantic, oh SV3 jr you think someone like me could ever do something like this?” He turns looking at his childhood plush with a soft smile, he pats the book in his hand before putting it away on the shelf next to him. Getting out of the bed he looks at his reflection, frowning at his purple highlights. “Or maybe not…I’m just a normal ogre with a silly name, not like I can be some action hero. I’m just an artist and nothing more.” He sighs as he walks outside starting a fire to boil water for his shower, to kill time he goes hunting for bugs along with new soft rocks. He hums as he crushes the bugs and mixes them together, he then walks over to his kitchen and starts to fill out his containers with homemade makeup.

Once done he goes back to his shower to test the water, feeling it warm he takes a shower humming different love songs. Once he brushes his teeth he lets out a giggle running to his collection of paints, grabbing a brush, he dips it into his paints he starts to draw on a slab of wood putting together a sign saying ‘Welcome friendly ogre lives here’ with that done he places it on the path that leads to the swamp. He smiles brightly looking down the path “You’ve out done yourself SV3, now the humans have to know we are friendly!” He pulls out a small broken mirror checking his face, he frowns seeing he got paint on his cheek almost ruining his make up. He sprints inside to clean up, the last thing he wanted was to look like a mess for any visitors.

As SV3 cleans up excited to make new friends, a village nearby is getting ready for battle, one of the villagers grabbed torches and pitchforks making sure all the men in the village were covered.  He stood outside of the local pub handing them out as each of the men line up ready, the village leader stands on top of a crate looking at the men nervously as he holds up a wanted poster with a fierce looking ogre painted on it “We gather here to finally put an end to our ogre problem, one of the hunters found a sign that lead to his home. Finally we can take down the beast, our children will finally be free!” The group cheered as they waited for the sun to drop, lighting their torches at night as they marched toward the swamp.

SV3 sadly hums seeing the light outside fade, he lights a candle and places it on a stand on the center of the table. He looked around his small home and wondered if having more lights around the sign could help him, as he lit more candles he noticed light from the corner of his eyes. He turns looking out the window seeing lit up torches, he moves to the back of his home unlocking a hidden passage. He leaves the cabin and walks down the dark path towards the torches, as he gets closer he starts to hear the men talking. One of them stared at the cabin glaring at it “Come on lets get him!” only for him to be grabbed by a smaller man “Hold on, do you know what that thing can do to you?” The villager looked at the smaller man confused before he continued speaking “They say he will grind your bones for his bread, then use your children for dessert!”

SV3 frowns hearing the fear and hate in the men’s voice, his heart breaking knowing all the things being said about him. Having enough SV3 steps out of the shadow looking down at the men “Interesting, I heard giants were the ones who did that but who am i to know right?” Hearing the voice behind them, the men slowly turn around seeing their target glaring at them. Their faces filled with anger and hate changed into ones filled with pure fear, they huddled close shaking.

Seeing their fear made SV3 sigh “You should feel lucky, others would already be cooking you all. I mean, did you know many of my kind love to make jelly out of human eyes? Heard it's quiet yum on toast, maybe it's because fear makes eyes more sweet.”  He bends down smirking at the men, the smaller village takes a deep breath and starts to wave the torch at SV3 making the ogre stand up straight. “BACK MONSTER!” 3’s eye twitch hearing those words, is that all he ever will be just a monster not worth the time of others just cause he was born an ogre?

Licking his finger he turns off the torch and glares at the man, he drops the torch looking up at the ogre with a sheepish smile “Well..alright, I didn't think of a back up plan so uh…EVERYONE RUN!” SV3 stands there watching all the men run, tripping over themself as they drop their pitchforks and torches, 3 sighs  following them in order to clean up the mess they were leaving behind. “HEY! COME ON I LIVE HERE!” he then curses under his breath as he continues picking up the items. As he finishes picking up all the human items he tosses them into a pit, then turns to see one of the humans fall down and hit his head against a rock. SV3 gasped as the other humans kept running “WE WILL REMEMBER YOU!” was all they said as they vanished into the night.

SV3 runs over checking on the man “Oh my swamp are you okay?!” gently he moves the man checking him over. Seeing his head bleeding, SV3 gently laid him down somewhere cleaner as he ran inside, panicked, he tore his home apart looking for supplies to take care of the man. Once down he dashes back to the man and cleans up the wound “Geez, you humans can be clumsy…” 3 smiles softly seeing the wound has stopped bleeding before bandaging it up. The man starts to stir, causing SV3 to hurry and pack his stuff up, he looks around making sure nothing dangerous was around before turning around and leaving. “It's better for you not to wake up to a monster’s face…hope you get home safe,” he whispers as he goes into his home.

SV3 sighs as he goes to the bathroom and washes the make up off his face, freeing his hair from its constraints he throws himself onto his bed. His eyes water as he attempts to hold back his tears, he turns to his side, pulling his plush close to him. He hugs it tight as tears escape, all he asked was for a friend, someone that would see him for the person he is. SV3 sniffed, wiping his tears as he looked out the window in his room “Please…someone…anyone be my friend.”

------------------------------------- Knights charge into a room getting out rope and a muzzle, a sleeping donkey jumps up confused as the knights muzzle him and wrap the rope around his neck. He looks around confused “What's going on?!” The knights smack him “Shut it donkey, the prince has no need for a talking toy. So we are going to get a nice pouch of gold from you.” The donkey attempted to pull away only to end up coughing as the rope slightly chokes him, he looks around for his close friend “WARIO! HELP!” The knights chuckle as they pull him away “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I'M THE GREAT WALUIGI!” Ignoring him, the knights lift him and throw him into a cage in the back of a carriage, Waluigi looks at the castle shaking his head as he gets taken away from his home and family.

Hearing the night market getting closer Waluigi panics, he couldn't let them do this to him. He wasn't just some animal to be sold off, he was Prince Wario’s best friend, his brother. He takes a small step back before smacking the cage, seeing that the cage was slowly sliding off gave the donkey hope. With another smack the cage falls off breaking as it hits the floor. He groans, feeling pain all over his body from hitting the floor, the carriage stops as the knights hear the loud crash. They get out of the carriage and see Waluigi on the floor, he opens his eyes to see the knights getting out of the carriage and walk towards him. 

Seeing the knights get closer he forces himself to get up and runs, he looks around for a place to hide. He throws himself behind a pile of rocks as he smacks the muzzle, after smacking it he finally gets the buckle of the muzzle loose. As it slips out of place Waluigi is able to finally remove the muzzle from his face, he smirks at the muzzle before running off as he hears the knights getting close. He wasn't sure how long he was running, he could feel his legs getting weak from all the running. He looks up seeing the sun come up, had he been running all night?

SV3 couldn't bring himself to be excited for the new day, still upset over the events from yesterday the ogre finishes his morning routine only to hear yelling. He turns to see a donkey roll and land in mud, 3 stares wide eyed at what happened before loud footsteps caught his attention.  The knights freeze seeing SV3, they look him up and down nervously. 3 can already see the familiar expression humans have always given him, the fear on their face just puts SV3 in a worse mood. Waluigi sits up shaking the mud off his face and notices the knights frozen, confused he follows their gaze and gasps seeing the annoyed ogre. Without a second thought he runs behind SV3 hoping the ogre would assist him, 3 sighs seeing the knights take out a scroll “OGRE! You…are to be put under arrest and taken to the magic market!”

SV3 crosses his arms staring at the knight, seeing that 3 wasn't moving the knight gets closer with his group following slowly behind him. He cleared his throat as he took out a scroll showing a wanted poster with an angry looking ogre, SV3 felt his eye twitch at the art. To think no matter what he does the world sure loves to paint him in a ugly light, not to mention no one bothers to add on his make up in the art. “Ogre you are to come with us right now, along with the donkey hiding behind you by law from our lord Wario!” SV3 looks behind the knight seeing the men with him shaking slightly, he smirks as he gently takes the scroll from the knight making him jump. 3 hums looking over the scroll before ripping it “Oops…darn guess now you don't have your fancy paper, with that gone i recommend you leave me and the donkey alone before you find out how scary an ogre can be.”

The knight slowly reaches for his sword “Me and my men won't be scared off by the likes of you!” SV3 looks behind him and lets out a gasp “But mister knight, the only person i see here is you!” Hearing that the knight turned to see his men had run off at some point, his face goes pale and he turns back to SV3. Seeing the knight wasn't going to back off even after seeing his men leaving him, he turns to Waluigi “Um this can be loud go inside my house.” He nods as he runs off and charges into the small cabin, SV3 looks down at the knight and takes a deep breath. He let out a loud roar startling the man he took a step back activating a trap, a rope wrap around his ankle pulling him up. 

SV3 looks up and the hanging knight “Uh…sorry about that I had no idea that was there!”

SV3 looks at the floor with concern, he wasn't one for placing traps given he goes out to hunt. Last night came to mind making him sigh, assuming it had to be one of the humans from the other day SV3 takes out a small knife cutting the man free. SV3 catches the man only to get hit as the knight swings his arms, once on his feet the knight runs off. SV3 rolled his eyes before putting his knife away, he looked at the trap confused before looking around the border of his swamp. Waluigi walks out of the cabin in awe at the events, he looks around seeing SV3 standing by the entrance of the swamp lost in thought. He runs up and lightly hits 3’s back with his hooves “That was amazing my friend! Ha, you sure showed those knights who the boss is huh?” SV3 eyes go wide looking down at the donkey, seeing the expression made Waluigi nervous. 

“Did you say…your friend? Are you saying we are friends?” SV3 couldn't believe his ears, he needed to hear the magical creature say it again. Waluigi looked awkwardly to the side before letting out a cough “Of course! After all, being friends with an ogre has its benefits, for example scaring off knights that kidnap you from your home!” Waluigi let out a surprise squeak when he was lifted into the air by the ogre, SV3 spins giving him a hug “A FRIEND! I'M SO HAPPY!” Waluigi's surprised expression turned into confused annoyance, wasn't the man holding him right now a horrific ogre, not some giggling maiden.

SV3 puts him down with a huge smile, Waluigi looks up at 3 “Um…i thought ogres were some scary monster?” SV3 chuckles waving his arms “Ah well yes most are for sure, I just see things uh different.” He gives the donkey a nervous smile, Waluigi shakes his head letting out a soft chuckle. In all his years of hearing about the magical creatures of the world, no book could prepare him to see a friendly ogre. “Lucky me to find a friendly one then, thank you for the help but I need to get home. My brother and I are doing a huge scheme in a kingdom, can't let him handle everything alone!” As he starts to walk he feels pain in one of his legs, now that the adrenaline is gone the injury he got from the fall was bothering him.

SV3 frowns noticing the strange walk from his new friend “Stay the night,” he gets on his knees and gently takes Waluigi’s leg “I will take care of you then send you home.” Waluigi looked off to the side blushing, it was embarrassing for someone like him getting help from a stranger. Yet if he returned to his best friend in this state things would be worse, he could already hear Wario teasing him for how he got hurt. With a nod SV3 smiles softly “It’s more than likely some kind of sprain, you did take a tumble. My house is yours today, just please respect the house rules. I really don't want a destroyed home.” With a nod the pair walk toward the cabin, once Waluigi was settled SV3 heads off to get more food in order to make a big enough dinner.

---------------------------------- Wario hums as he rolls around in a pile of gold, finally the kingdom riches were all his. His plan of getting rid of the old royals and taking over was a success, along with getting rid of his old friend. He didn't need someone holding him down and taking his half of the gold, as he enjoys the smell of his money one of the knights lets out a soft cough bringing in the magic mirror. Wario turns around confused “What's the meaning of this?” A face appears looking at Wario nervously, Wario gets up glaring at the mirror “Luigi, you know I don't like my money bath to get interrupted.” 

Luigi nods “Y-yes..but um we receive news that unless you get married, they won't bring the rest of the gold to you.” Wario growls as he smacks the wall next to the mirror making Luigi scream “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DON'T GET MY MONEY!” The men in the room run out leaving Wario alone with the magic mirror, Luigi gulps as he speaks again “That's what the spell on the safe said! B-but if you marry another royal-” Wario smirks “I can take their money and get the rest of my gold in one deal!” Luigi sadly nods agreeing with the man's train of thought.

He snaps his fingers as he stares into Luigi’s eyes “Oh magic mirror give me the richest royals i can marry!” Luigi sighs looking through the different family’s “Well there is a princess name Fiona she-” Wario holds up a gold coin making the mirror frown as he begins looking, that's when he found a young man. He looked annoyed in the painting, seeing his parents and learning about the kingdom Luigi projected the image. Wario's eyes turn to dollar signs seeing the gold “Introducing Prince SV4, his parents are inventors making them one of the richest families with a bachelor. He is known for his love for arson and inventing, he tends to bite anyone that annoys him along with him bein-” Wario waved his hand telling the mirror to shut up, he walks to his desk and starts writing.

“My lord he is stuck in a castle and you have to kno-” Luigi gets shushed again making him sigh, Wario stops his writing as he looks up at the mirror. Seeing that he was being looked at he showed the picture of the prince, Wario stares at it “Do we know where the castle is?” The mirror does a quick search before an x appears on its glass, Wario smacks his desk “HOW COULD WE NOT KNOW?! KNIGHTS!” Luigi looks around, scared that he is going to be shattered, he closes his eyes when the knights arrive. Wario quickly draws on several pieces of paper, handing a poorly done drawing of the prince “Something is blocking my mirror, find me this prince now!”

The knights squint at the drawing before giving the man and nod and run off, with the knights gone Wario turns to the mirror “Now then, let's have a talk Luigi and find out why we can't find my money maker hm?”

[maybequinnidk]

I'm Good At Loving You (You're Good At Loving Me) pt. 2

part 1

(hurt/comfort i think. feedback is appreciated, i'm new to this)

Kara notices after that conversation at the Tower three weeks ago something started to change.

Lena stays over almost everyday, and they develop a domestic routine: sometimes they're lucky enough to spend some more minutes in bed before properly starting the day, just enjoying the other's company. Then they eat breakfast, wash the dishes, sweep the floor, take out the trash. After that they shower and get ready for the rest of their day. They have a late lunch with their team and go back to their respective tasks. By the time she goes back home Lena is usually there, if they didn't go together.

Kara's favorite part is the relief of coming home and finding Lena making dinner, or reading a book on the couch, or coming out of the shower, or- Kara's favorite part is Lena. And today she's...

Not here.

As if today wasn't awful enough already.

She came in through the window and falteringly made her way to the kitchen, leaning over the countertop.

She finds a note on top of it in Lena's handwriting "forgot my phone at the lab, portal watch is still broken :/ BRB "

Not even five minutes later her partner arrives. She barely opens the door and Kara envelopes her in a hug. Lena is quick to reciprocate despite the suddenness.

"Oh. Hi. I came back as fast as I could, are you okay?"

Today was a hectic day. She had to leave early in the morning and missed breakfast, the villain of the week was turning into villain of the month, she'd been running on nothing but a sandwich, a bag of chips and yellow star radiation for the past 12 hours, and to top it all off she solar flared. She used the last bit of her powers to fly home. She didn't break anything and didn't get sick, but still, everything hurts.

She shakes her head.

"Oh, darling. Let's go inside and talk about it?"

Kara doesn't want to talk though. She squeezes Lena tighter. She can do that now.

"Or we could go inside and not talk about it?" Lena knows her so well. "How about we get you out of this suit, and you take a nap while I worry about dinner. Does that sound good, honey?"

Lena knows her so well.

She loves Lena calling her "darling", but "honey" is on another level.

It's for when she's grieving Krypton, her family, her friends, her culture. For when she can't get out of bed after waking up five seperate times in the same night because the memories that come back as nightmares wouldn't give her a break. For when she couldn't save everyone from a fire or earthquake or alien attack. For when she's not even able to process and explain what's happening.

It's been a while since she needed it.

She nods.

She has no idea what time it is when she wakes up, all she knows is that it's cold, Lena is stroking her hair and the softness of her voice can be compared to the one of her hoodie and sweatpants.

"How are you? Did you sleep well, honey?"

Kara yawns and stretches. She does feel a little bit better so she nods.

She does remember what Lena said during dinner. "I talked to Alex and J'onn and they agreed that we all need a break, so Nia suggested a game night sometime soon."

The night's events blur together. She doesn't know if it's because of her exhaustion or the fact that this has happened so many times before — it's mundane, eating with Lena after a hard day.

She also remembers when she was able to voice her thoughts for the first time since she got home.

She had just gone to bed, her face buried in the pillow, as Lena was petting her hair.

"Honey, are you feeling better?"

She nods and turns to her left so she can see Lena. "Thank you for this."

"I'm glad I was able to help."

"You always are."

Kara grabs Lena's other hand and brings it to her lips, peppering her with kisses, maintaining eye contact. She wants to be closer, though.

Lena reads her mind again. She lifts up the blanket as an invitation to get closer, which Kara accepts.

Kara settles her body between Lena's legs and rests her head on her chest. Featherlight fingers caressing her back, the subtle rise and fall of Lena's breathing. It's grounding.

"I love you." she breaks the silence.

> > > × < < <

Kara has said that a lot in the past couple of weeks. Mostly when they're in private, or when she's about to go on field.

She had been so anxious about this. Terrified to trust that Kara wasn't manipulating nor leaving her.

But seeing the way Kara looks at her – like the first time they woke up together, or shared clothes; with an unmistakable fondness in her eyes, a light blush on her face and a smile on her lips – she knows she means it.

Most of the time, Lena responds with physical affection, a soft "I know", a concerned "stay safe", an "ily" text; sometimes she didn't respond at all, still not completely used to it. This is not any of those times.

"I love you too." She barely thinks about it, it's always on her mind. Such a frequent thought it became an easy action. Natural. Familiar. Known.

"I know, baby." Kara plays with the collar of Lena's shirt, traces her neck and jaw.

She never liked being called "baby" by her exes. It was uncomfortable, infantilizing and just felt wrong.

There was only one person who made it tolerable: Jack. But even then he didn't use it all the time. He preferred "darling" and so did she.

The first time Kara used that pet name, it came as a suprise that it didn't bother her. It was two, maybe three weeks into this new aspect of their relationship.

"You're so wonderful, baby, so stunning." Kara could probably listen to her pulse rushing and see her face flushing which only made her blush even more.

In the past she would have said something like "I know you're trying to be cute but I really don't like that word", instead she said nothing because her brain had given up on her.

The reason she likes it so much now is probably because it's always accompanied with compliments and reassurance.

"I'm so proud of you." proud. Lena lets out a short laugh and smiles shyly.

"Darling, you're doing it again..."

"Doing what?"

"Comforting me when you're the one who needs it."

"I told you." she finds a way to get even closer, kisses her cheek and says "It helps."

Although she doesn't fully understands how that works, she does see how it affects Kara when she starts to relax.

> > > × < < <

She eventually falls asleep.

With Lena's hearbeat at the perfect volume on her ears; audible but not overwhelmingly loud.

The words "I love you too" echoing in her mind; can words be addictive?

The hope that tomorrow won't be worse than today; may Rao help her.

She eventually falls asleep.

[proseandpsalms]

hello!! i don't know if you've been asked this before, but i just saw a post of yours that said you don't believe in a conventional/eternal hell. can you explain/expand on that please?

i was by a previously pentecostal "fire and brimstone" (now conserv. baptist) father, and a conserv. baptist mother. a lot of my family (the ones who are christian, anyway) are very end-times/rapture/hell/fire and brimstone-based. it's honestly terrifying- i grew up having nightmares about it all when i was young. i'm now deconstructing my faith, but that aspect always feels like a scary looming figure at the back of it.

i read somewhere once that jews don't believe in an eternal hell? i'm not sure if that's true or not, but that's what i was reminded of when i saw your post. is it like that?

basically, i'm asking: why do you believe that way? what supports it (not that you need anything to support it, just that if there is, i'd like to see it)? would you be willing to share?

thank you very much- i'm sorry this got a bit vent-y, but i just wanted you to understand my background, and where i'm coming from when asking. :D

On Hell

First of all I want to apologise for taking one million years to respond to this. Time is a slippery character with few morals.

The first thing that I want to establish is the difference between what I understand hell to be and what others do. Growing up I was taught that hell is a pit of fire and flames that people reside in for the rest of their soul's eternity, as punishment for not believing in the Christian understanding of God. I do not believe in this.

I do not believe this to be a biblical notion either. I encourage you to read the following and click the link to read the full text as they articulate it better than what I possibly could ever. Here is an excerpt from it.

"There Are The 4 Words Translated As “Hell”

Most of the confusion around Hell starts with translation error. There are four separate Hebrew and Greek words which are translated into the single English word “Hell”, despite having drastically different meanings.

Sheol (Hebrew)

Hades (Greek)

Tartarus (Greek)

Gehenna (Greek)

The English language is often very limited when trying to express certain concepts. A perfect Biblical example of this is the multiple Greek words translated to the single English word “Love”. Agape is a special version of love that speaks about God’s love toward humanity. Phileo speaks about brotherly love and Eros refers to sexual love or desire.

And just like “love”, the English word “hell” is unilaterally translated from the Greek and Hebrew words Sheol, Hades, Gehenna, and Tartarus, each of which have different meanings.

1. Sheol (H7585)

שׁאל שׁאול she’ôl she’ôl sheh-ole’, sheh-ole’ From H7592; hades or the world of the dead (as if a subterranian retreat), including its accessories and inmates: — grave, hell, pit.

2. Hades (G86)

ᾅδης hadēs hah’-dace From G1 (as a negative particle) and G1492; properly unseen, that is, “Hades” or the place (state) of departed souls: — grave, hell.

3. Gehenna (G1067)

γέεννα geenna gheh’-en-nah Of Hebrew origin ([H1516] and [H2011]); valley of (the son of) Hinnom; gehenna (or Ge-Hinnom), a valley of Jerusalem

4. Tartarus (G5020)

ταρταρόω tartaroō tar-tar-o’-o From Τάρταρος Tartaros̄ (the deepest abyss of Hades); to incarcerate in eternal torment: — cast down to hell.

Below, I’ve listed the full 13 times “Hell” is used in the NASB translation of the Bible. Sheol and Hades are always correctly translated as “the grave” in the NASB and other more accurate translations, which is why you don’t see any references below. I’ve included those words in our discussion simply because they will come up incorrectly as “Hell” in the KJV.

You’ll notice that NONE of the above 4 words actually translate to Hell. The closest is Hades, which is derived from Greek mythology and is never actually translated to “Hell” in academically accepted translations. Sheol and Hades are both always translated as “death” or “the grave” in the NASB and other more accurate translations. And as we are about to see, neither Tartarus nor Gehenna can be correctly translated as “Hell” either.

In other words, “Hell” is NOT actually in the Bible."

I believe in "hell" in the sense that when my soul feels hurt and tormented, that is a bad place for my heart and mind to be. When I think of Jesus and His loving teachings I am filled with peace and helps bring me out of that place.

While I don't believe in ETERNAL hell, I do believe in divine punishment. Those who do not follow the teachings Jesus preached (being loving, kind, empathetic, caring about social justice) will experience some sort of punishment. If it is not in this lifetime, I believe it will be in the next.

Do I believe they'll all be put in flames? No not really. I believe God will provide them with a consequence that will assist them in changing their perspective and changing for the better.

I don't believe people who don't worship the Christian understanding of God, yet follow what Jesus preached will be punished eternally. I don't think God will mind if we get the theology wrong but what we did get right was the act of loving our neighbour.

I've likely not explained this very well at all and I'm still growing and learning in my faith. If you have new perspectives you want to add onto this and more resources to provide to me, I am more that happy for you to share them!

If you are going to get upset with me in the comments for what I believe and tell me again and again that ETERNAL FIRE AND HELL is real, I am unfortunately not interested in that. I was taught that for many years of my life and it never brought me peace. It only made me feel further away from God because I didn't understand how He could be so hateful. Please don't come to my comment section and tell me my God is hateful. I deconstructed that notion long ago.

Let me know if you want me to explain anything better or provide more resources!

God bless everyone <3

[luca-street-chris-deacon-rp]

"Nah, I'm good." He answered softly, his thumb still brushing back and forth soothingly. Drawing little circles and squares absentmindedly. "Annie said you're probably gonna murder me in my sleep like she wants to do it to Deac all the time." A small chuckle as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. "I think the AA is gonna help, its worth a try, right? And whatever the doctors wanna do, whatever the LAPD doc wants to do."

He did smile when she said about her going to the nut house with him. "I'll go anywhere with you, even the nuthouse. As long as you can put up with matching pyjamas and pill cocktails for breakfast." It was as if at times the old Luca shone through the darkness, and lately, it had been few and far between. The moment of dread as the doctor walked in.

"Officer Luca, Mrs Luca, I'm Dr Rooney. It's nice to meet you both, even under these circumstances." He introduced himself, a relatively young doctor. "I've read the report, and I've got your test results and given what you've been through, thanks to your colleagues explaining that this is very out of character for you, which helps us come up with a treatment plan." He continued. "The good news is that there's no signs of any kidney or liver damage from the intense alcohol abuse, and it's good that you also haven't been using pills along with it took. So, the on call psychologist has written some prescriptions here for some anti anxiety medications and some antidepressants that you can start right away. It'll take a few weeks to feel a positive effect, but it then means you can start intense psycho-therapy. I understand the LAPD has its own therapy programmes, but we would also want to give you the opportunity to talk to an impartial therapist. Sometimes, officers feel they can't truly open up in fear or being judged or being fired for the way their brains are making them feel. So I have to ask, other than today and more leaning towards the future, do you have any plans to harm yourself?"

The question hung in the air like a rolling thunder cloud that was just waiting to rupture and explode. Finally, Luca answered. "No. No, i don't. Not anymore."

"This is good, and there are going to be days where where you feel like this again, but we can give you both some support groups, in person and online, to help those times." Dr Rooney explained. "Given that you're sobering up and have support, it's my recommendation that you can go home in a few hours and not a psychiatric facility. Those places.......can be helpful, but I don't think you're at that stage just yet. One of the nurses will bring some medication. And how are you feeling, Mrs Luca? And please be honest, even in front of your husband. Because honestly makes this easier for everyone."

Open Thread (female only) Angst and drama

Open to Everyone (Mutuals and Non Mutuals)

Connection - Colleague, friend, best friend, girlfriend, wife, ex wife, ex girlfriend, lover, partner.

Plot - After an entire family is murdered by a killer who was set free due to lack of evidence, Luca had to try and pick up the pieces and prove the killer's guilt but he can't live with the fact he could have stopped it if he had been allowed. He's on the edge and he is spiralling fast.

*****

It had been six months since Antonio Martinez had been released from the county jail due to lack of evidence in a string of homicides and while Luca and the team were trying to collect the evidence, Martinez slaughtered an entirely family in a robbery gone wrong.

Luca knew it all could have been prevented. Protocol and doubt from the district attorney and the People making the decisions had released a killer back out onto the streets and despite SWAT's best efforts, he had killed an entire family. Luca had been suspended from duty due to turning up intoxicated and hungover every day shift since the incident and mentally, he was destroying himself as he paced back and forth along Angels Point, a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a gun in the other.

"It could have been stopped, don't you see that? It could have been stopped and that family would have been alive." Luca vented, his face thick with a beard and his eyes bloodshot, his hair a mess and hooked like he had lost his soul. "If they hadn't played God then that family would have been alive. A mom, a dad and three kids, the oldest being nine and the youngest being two years old!"

[raine-moore]

Okay, so, The Magnus Protocol theories.

We know from the ARG that Sam attended the Magnus Institute with Gerry, since it's a school in this universe.

We also know it burned down 20 years ago.

We don't know how old any of the characters are, of course, but I'd guess late twenties/early thirties, similar to Jon and Martin.

That means Sam was actually really young when he attended the Magnus Institute and was around 10 when it burned down, which is obviously not an easy to remember time frame anyway, but considering what the Magnus Institute dealt with in the Archives Timeline and assuming its similar in Protocol, I'd guess it's safe to say it was a traumatic experience as well.

Sam started researching the Institute, which makes me believe he either left before it burned down and is curious what happened, or he doesn't remember it, presumably as a trauma response, but might be something paranormal.

All very interesting. Obviously they'll research the Magnus Institute more as the show goes on, but I think they will also "unlock" (for lack of a better term) Sam's repressed memories piece by piece and we'll find out what happened to the children at the Institute.

Of course we will also find out how the Institute burned down at some point, but what if it was a child's involuntary reaction? A young servant/avatar of the Desolation (or a differently categorized fire-associated fear)? What if it was Sam? I, for one, want to learn more about the Desolation and would love to see a main character associated with it.

[moe-broey]

I'm gonna bully Lif again

I'll admit, some of these answers don't cover all the bases, but. What are we thinking, here. What is The Truth behind The Twink Death? 🤨🎤

I will also be accepting write-in responses as usual 🫡

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent-ish things ~

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Ive seenyou mention wuxia a few times now and i wonder what that is. Would you mind explaining it to me?

not the most qualified person to explain this as i'm not, in fact, from china; but i've read a couple of wuxia so here goes:

wuxia is a genre of fiction from china specifically, about martial artists in ancient china. i don't think a specific time period is like required? obviously some dynasties are more popular but idk how it goes in that front. it just has to be Not Today and probably Too Long Ago. like pre industral revolution i think. again idk if that's a requirement, but most i've seen are from around the same relative murky pre-electricity era.

xianxia is a subgenre of wuxia that's specifically more fantasy-like, and it's not just martial arts, but also spiritual powers and cultivation (which i have no fucking clue how to explain without two hours and three tangents other than chinese magic system. if you've ever heard of chi/qi as an energy, it appears there). so like- genshin is by all accounts a xianxia, it just doesn't use the more common specific xianxia terms like cultivation. some of those are very weird to translate and probably not common for the average non-wuxia reader, so it makes sense why they're going for alternatives.

chongyun and xingqiu and xianyun are very much straight out of a xianxia. xianyun's entire story quest was the closest genshin has gotten to a straight xianxia plot so far. i highly reccomend ashikai's video on unnecessary visions if you want more info on why genshin is a xianxia hahah

cyanide narwhal has some talk of some stuff from xianxia, but that's mostly because well- fucking liyue, that's how it works there. the whole light energy striking down someone who's getting powerful and giving them godhood if they survive the strike is, while not exactly like that, something that happens in some xianxia as well. like the way adepti work in general is just very xianxia. ashikai does a much better job explaining it than i do tbh but yeah

TL;DR: wuxia is chinese martial arts fiction in ancient china, and xianxia is a wuxia subgenre with more magic elements. also genshin is a xianxia

[pardonmydelays]

i'm going home tomorrow & i'm so excited to see my family, i really missed them

[timothyslucy]

chicago fire s13, here i come!!

[ellieellieoxenfree]

What did BOC do?

assuming you are in good faith, anon, here’s a non-exhaustive list:

they allowed the KP novelists (poi and yok) unfettered access to the set, where they were filmed sexually harassing numerous members of the cast, including a minor they coerced into giving them massages

they failed to take action against the actors’ stalkers who doxed their hotels and flights and followed them on vacation, nearly drove their cars off the road, and broke into the BOC offices

ignoring poi’s accusations of plagiarism against sammon for the original 4 minutes script (prior to its retooling as whatever the fuck garbage it is now) and failing to apologize

continuing to side with poi after she falsely accused one of their actors, build jakapan, of plagiarism, abuse, theft, and a forced abortion, as well as setting up a months-long harassment campaign with leaks of private messages and photos, leading him to nearly commit suicide after his resignation and more or less blackballing him from the thai television industry. actors were also forbidden to mention him in any way.

in a major double standard move, forced build into an extended hiatus near the end of KP's airtime after twitter dug up decade-old problematic tweets and blew them up into a scandal, while ignoring 2024 allegations and receipts against bible for old, still undeleted social media posts that are in the same vein that got build canceled originally

pond, BOC’s CEO, continues to blame build indirectly in interviews over 18 months after the initial scandal (obliquely referring to him as though all of BOC’s past and present problems are laid at build’s feet), even though poi admitted in a settlement that the claims were false and build has entirely distanced himself from anything to do with BOC since his resignation

chose to announce jeff satur’s departure from BOC during a live event that was also streamed worldwide without informing nearly everyone in the cast prior, including bible (who’d just lost his scene partner, build, not long beforehand) and barcode (jeff’s scene partner, the minor who’d been harassed by yok and poi), causing a devastated barcode to burst into tears in front of the audience

held a reality show that included telling a teenager to get a nose job to ‘look less chinese’ and required the largely-teenage candidates to undergo an exercise in humiliating exorcism where they had to spill the skeletons in their closet in a public guilt and shaming circle

have been exposed numerous times stealing artwork for promotional materials

discarding the majority of their cast after KP finished airing, leaving actors signed to the studio but providing them no acting, sponsorship, or live opportunities, only to then hire several waves of new cast members for other projects, leaving the existing talent high and dry

failed to budget properly for their aborted ‘world tour,’ then blamed the actors

despite KP being a massive success, they claimed to be above BL for their next project, man suang (which pond trumpeted as the saving grace of new thai cinema and was partially funded by the thai ministry of culture), which failed to do anywhere near the gangbusters numbers expected of it, leading pond to walk back his claims and announce a man suang AU tv show, recently postponed from its original 2024 release date to 2025, which is supposed to be more of a light and fluffy BL romcom, rather than the serious historical piece man suang was originally advertised as. this was also apo's passion project and had almost zero promotion.

mile, who was the inspiration for the KP novel, coaxed apo back from new york (where he’d gone after a disastrous experience in lakorns in thailand) to star in KP by promising him BOC wouldn’t be similar to other studios, only to promptly turn around and have the guy who’d faced horrific amounts of colorism appear in ads for whitening products

have repeatedly insulted international fans (both in southeast asia and globally), including a canceled event in vietnam being blamed on bigoted stereotypes of vietnam being crime-ridden and unsafe, and using offensive/outdated content in their promotional materials

ultimately, whether you choose to support BOC or not is your decision and my judgment means nothing. for me, KP was a very good time for a few months and then a life-ruining time for three times as long as it was good, and i quite frankly would prefer never to have watched the show because BOC and its attack dogs caused so much pain to a huge number of people i care about, with none of the people either at the company or in the fandom ever bothering to take the slightest shred of accountability for their noxious behavior. i hope every day is a fucking misery for pond and i wish him all the luck and success he deserves, which is fucking none. when BOC burns down, let me know so i can reserve the time off to dance on its grave.