#Really hope they keep the secret identities trope

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 | 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

Day Twenty Two - A/B/O

【Synopsis】 : He was your best friend. The only person would could trust. But yet you had kept a secret from you that would change your relationship in an instant. How would he react once he finds out?

『Word count』 :  3.43k

-> Genre: A/B/O. Smut. Angst. Romance.

Pairing: Alpha!San x Omega!Reader

[Warnings] : Mention of gambling. Bets. Sub-gender. Misogynism. Sexism. Protective San. Typical a/b/o hierarchy system. omegas are considered rare. scent blockers. heats and ruts. a lot of crying. mating and the idea of soulmates. listen, this one big ball of mess. Unprotected sex. Sweet love making. Crying. Use of the name omega and alpha. Ripping of clothing. Claiming. Marking. Biting. Blood.

Networks: @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

Note: This is my first time writing Abo and boy was this hard. Ahha. Im so used to adding the Werewolf trope into this kinda genre, so trying to separate it was a challenge, but i hope i did well none the less. ♡♡

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The town where you grew up, small and concealed between two rolling hills and dense forests, was all you knew. When you moved there when you were only four years old, your parents quickly made a name for themselves. New life, new identities. It wasn’t that your parents were criminals, on the run from the law. But it was more so for your sake. Your father was a gambler and one evening in a drunken rage and the loss of almost every penny he had to his name, a gentleman bet for another round. One simple game. And if he won, he could walk out with everything he lost, including an extra hundred thousand for his troubles… but if he lost,

You would now belong to the man.

It was simple really, you were an omega. A rare jewel in the ever-growing population of betas and alphas. So the man wanted you. To raise you for your sub-gender. Your father lost that night and shook the man's hand in defeat but when he went to leave he stole one of the priceless rubies that hung on the mantle before fleeing. The ruby bought him and your family a new life far away from the crime lord. But that day your father had decided to take matters into his own hands, using his earnings to find scent-blockers that were so potent, you would show as a beta.

Your life was luckily in a state of normalcy after that. Both your mother and father led stable jobs and happy lives as you progressed smoothly in school. But it wasn't until you hit high school that you met Choi San, your best friend. San, the confident and charismatic alpha, who had always been protective of you since the day you met. He couldn’t explain it but it was like whenever you were around, nothing else mattered. He knew you weren’t soulmates since the click never happened but maybe you were a different kind of soul mate? A bond shared between two people that was unexplainable? San would spend most nights thinking about how to describe his feelings towards you but he would always end up landing back on the same word over and over again…

Home.

Your bond had flourished over the years of teenhood and evolved stronger in your college years. It was built upon late-night conversations, shared secrets, and laughter that echoed in the empty spaces of each other's homes. And with each day somehow, you both fell more and more in love. But yet, you could never find the right moment to tell him the truth. That you weren’t a beta but in fact an omega. Your father's last wish on his deathbed was that you would never tell a single soul what you really were. Thanks, dad… And with your mother out of town for a conference with her job, you were left with fate and oh, had it played a cruel trick on you.

The scent blockers you relied on to keep your omega pheromones at bay had been discontinued without warning, leaving you vulnerable for the first time in your life since the crime lord all those years ago. You didn’t know how to react when the woman on the phone said they had been removed from stocks. Something about an illegal toxin? You weren’t paying too much attention after that. She had advised you to go to a doctor since you had never been without the blockers and it could cause your body to go into shock.

And, oh boy did your doctor nearly fall out of her chair when you told her the truth. She was luckily an omega herself so she understood why your family did it but the withdrawals and long-lasting effects the blockers had were not healthy in the slightest. She prescribed an antibiotic to help with the pain but she strongly insists you go through your first heat and let your body regulate itself before you go onto normal scent blockers for omegas.

To say your life went face up all in one afternoon was not an exaggeration. And that is how you found yourself dodging San, struggling to maintain your composure as the instinctual nature of her omega threatened to surface. The first day without your scent blocker had been manageable, but by the third day, you were acutely aware of the heat in your cheeks and the way your heart raced at the thought of San drawing near. You had to call into your college and tell them you were ill and unable to come onto campus until further notice.

Day four the symptoms grew. The heat pooling all over your body while the cramps began to brew inside your lower belly. All your senses felt like they were turned up to a thousand, the slightest wrong noise or texture would throw you off and you found yourself slowly building a nest in the centre of your lounge room. You’ve never nested before let alone experienced any of the natural omega tropes since the blockers completely had stripped that part of your identity so you felt completely out of place as you stared at the piles of pillows, plushies, blankets and of sorts.

“Why did I have to be like this?” You whispered to yourself, feeling a twinge of guilt and disgust. It wasnt that you hated omegas, it's just that you hated the world for wanting them so bad. Letting out a sigh. You could feel the growing yearn simmering beneath your skin, beginning to crave the only thing that she cared for in her life…San. But he couldn’t have him. They were friends and he needed to stay away.

San, however, was not the type to be easily deterred, nor did he want to listen to your randomly vague text about being sick. He quickly noticed your sudden withdrawal and lack of communication making him feel a gnawing worry clawing at his insides. With every unanswered text and unreturned phone call, a sense of dread embedded itself in his heart. So, on the afternoon of the fifth day, he decided he couldn’t stand it any longer. Determined to find you and get to the bottom of what was really going on, he raced over to your place, concern fueling his speed.

As he entered your home, the first thing that hit him was an overwhelming, intoxicating sweetness that engulfed his senses. It was your scent—rich, vibrant, and uniquely yours. San had always recognized the floral undertones of your pheromones, but this time it was all-consuming. The moment he inhaled deeply, something primal stirred deep within him, awakening the animalistic instincts of his wolf. You were…

“Doll!!” he called, the sound of his voice echoing against the walls as he hurried down the hall. He found you in the living room, curled up on the floor in the centre of your nest, a book lying loosely in your hands as you were using it to distract yourself. Looking up, your eyes widened with concern and panic, but as your gaze locked with his, San felt an insatiable instinct surge through him, igniting the dormant feelings he had kept buried for so long. A click that was supposed to snap a long time ago.

"San!" You exclaimed, trying to mask the flush creeping up your neck and the growing embarrassment you felt when you looked at him. Of course, he was your mate, it was obvious from the start, but your blockers had prevented the bound from snapping in place leaving you both in an abyss of strange longing and sleepless nights. “You shouldn’t be here. I—I haven’t been taking any blockers.”

The weight of your words hung in the air, shifting the atmosphere between both of you. His mind raced with thoughts he had never dared to voice, yet the raw, potent scent of your pheromones coaxed his animal side to the forefront. The thoughts of claiming you grew stronger with every breath that hitched in this throat. You looked so cute in your little sleep shorts and one of his old band shirts. You were disappointed it doesn’t smell like him anymore when you found it in your room but it was the only thing that was bringing you comfort in this situation.

“I was worried about you,” he admitted softly, stepping closer before stopping himself. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I was beginning to think…”

“San, I don’t think you understand,” You said, desperation creeping into your voice. The sense of heartbreak began to overwhelm you. The foolishness of your actions building up and the pain that the world had forcibly put you through. Hiding your sub-gender to protect yourself from those who wished to use it for their own desires, had now caused you to lose out on time with your mate. Time and moon cycles you would never get back... “I can’t control it, and you being here… it’s making it worse.”

“But why?” he pressed, his wolfish instincts battling against the tender pull of their friendship. “You think I don’t want to be near you? You think I don’t feel something for you, too? We are mates for fuck sakes!”

The confessions hung heavy in the air, laced with a tension neither had anticipated. Your heart raced at his words, a mix of fear and exhilaration swirling within your chest. But you couldn’t help but cry, “Do you even know what you’re saying?” she breathed, her pulse quickening. “You could—” 

“I could, what? Hate you for hiding that you’re an omega? Hate you for being my soulmate?” His voice was intense, eyes glinting with the raw emotion of his desire, he too was now breaking into tears. “I could never hate you. I’ve been… I’ve been waiting for so long.”

“Waiting for what?” You hiccuped, frustration mingling with longing. Your knees pressed firmly against your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“To tell you I’ve always wanted you. Even before this. When I thought you were a beta.” He took a step closer, the space between you buzzing with electricity that pulsed like a heartbeat. Just then, something in the air shifted. It was as if all the unspoken words finally collided, twisting in San’s heart until it could no longer ignore the truth standing before him. He stopped at the foot of your nest, not daring to enter unless you wanted him to. “I didn’t care about anything other than being with you…”

Your body thrummed with a mix of fear and excitement watching him step forward. You lowered your knees ignoring the way your stomach screamed and twisted in a slight burn. The longing that had been nurturing beneath your skin since you first met him. “You mean it?”

“Every fucking word,” San replied, his breath coming quick as he waited for you to grant him permission to enter. The enveloping feeling of your scent and the promise of everything he hadn’t yet explored. His fist balled slightly, trying his best not to let your heat send him into an early rut.

“Come here.” You let out a hand for him which he gladly took. Quickly lunging for you in a second. His lips found yours and his hands found your hips. He caged you onto the floor with a thump as you tipped back onto the soft plush blankets. His nose nudged yours, as he inhaled sharply, smelling the way your scent sparks with the sweetness of fruits and fresh grass, mixing into a calming nature from his scent mixing with yours. “I’m sorry.”

“D-don’t say that.” San nibbles your bottom lip before pulling away. “Don’t ever apologise for the world's mistakes. You didn’t ask to be an Omega. None of this is your fault.”

“Thank you…” You whispered, locking your lips against his once again. And finally, for the first time, it felt like you found your way to where you needed to be. At that moment, the barriers had dissolved, and all that remained was the newfound bond between you and your soulmate. A bond that had been waiting, just beneath the surface, to blossom into something beautifully and unequivocally real.

“I need you.” You beg through his desperate lips.

Your plea was music to San’s ears as he hungrily swallowed each and every noise you made. His hands roughly started to rip clothing, shredding all the fabric in his way until you were bare beneath him. Your legs opened willingly as the tingles spiked through your body, a feeling you’ve never felt before. S-San.” You managed to pull away, tugging on the end of his hair that sat on the nape of his neck. Your breath was hitched as you felt tears pool on your eyes. “I…Everything feels weird. I don’t know..wha—Shhh it's okay, I've got you.”

San laid caged gently on top of you, his voice made a sense of calmness wash over you, and little did you know he had used his alpha voice to silence the anxiety he smelt on you.

His touch became more demanding by the second, his fingers leaving a trail of fire on your skin as he growled a low rumble. "Mine," His voice deep and primal. He closed the distance between you again in an instant, his strong hands gripping your hips while his lips sealed tightly on yours.

Your breath came in short gasps as your shirt was ripped open, strips of fabric scattering across the floor. San's eyes devoured your naked body, his gaze lingering on the telltale signs of your omega nature. Your scent glands, your sweet aroma, the way you presented to him.

"San, please..." You pleaded, your voice trembling with need. You wanted this, craved San's touch, but the intensity of the moment was overwhelming.

San's lips crashed down on yours once again, silencing your further protests. His kiss was fierce and possessive, his tongue demanding entry. You moaned into his mouth, unable to resist the onslaught of pleasure. San's hands roamed freely, squeezing and kneading your sensitive nipples, drawing out little gasps and whimpers that he happily swallowed.He moved lower, inching his lips and tongue down a wet trail on your trembling body. 

He paid special attention to your neck, marking you with bites that would surely leave visible to your friends for weeks to come. But what he stopped at was your gland, inhaling sharply against your soft skin. Your hands tangled in San's hair, urging him on as he suckled and nipped at your sensitive skin. “Alpha please…”

Your confession rang in Sans ears like church bells, feeling his heart skip at the word that spilled from your delicate lips. "You're so fucking beautiful…" San growled, his voice rough with desire. He spread your legs wide, exposing your glistening pussy, already swollen with need. "And you're all mine."

You arched off the pillows as San's fingers delved into your soaked cunt, stroking and teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Please, San," you begged again, their voice breathless. "I need you."

San's cock, hard and throbbing, was freed from his pants as he quickly fiddled with his belt and zipper, before he positioned himself at your entrance. "I'm gonna breed you so fucking well, my love," he promised, his eyes blazing with passion. "Gonna knot you so deep, mark you as mine."

You nodded eagerly, your body yearning for San desperately, bucking your hips against him with knitted brows. You felt San's tip slide against you, your slick coated his cock. “Hurry San, I need you so badly.”

You felt your heat surge Through you, your cramps worsening without more. But San was quick to ease your pain, sinking into your tight wet heat thrusting forward, filling you in one smooth motion. You cried out, your sensitive pussy stretching to accommodate San's thick length. San set a relentless pace, pounding into you with brute strength. His hips snapped forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust. Your moans filled the room, your fingers digging into San's shoulders as they rode the waves of pleasure, feeling tears prick on the corners of your eyes. “Fuck San, Fuck so b-big…argh.”

"That's it, baby," San grunted, his voice strained. "Feel me, feel how deep I am inside you. my fat cock snug inside your tight little pussy."

Your body clenched around San's cock, your orgasm building rapidly. San's fingers found their sensitive bud, massaging it firmly as he continued to thrust. “You wanna cream around my dick baby? I need to feel you clench around me.”

"Oh fuck, I'm close!" You cried out, tears rolling down your face, staining your flushed cheeks, your body tensing as your heat finally started to subside.

San's own release was imminent. He withdrew almost entirely before slamming back into you, his cock swelling as he reached the point of release. "Cum for me, my love," he commanded, his voice thick with need.

Your body exploded in a cascade of pleasure, yout pussy milking San's cock as they cried out his name begging for him to claim you. “Alpha please, mark me.. please please please.”

San's growl was guttural as he snarled against your neck. His hips jerked uncontrollably, baring his teeth on your gland, sinking his fangs into you. Claiming you. He filled you with his hot load as he groaned against your flesh. San cock twitched and pulsed, knotting and swelling deep inside your willing hole. You laid entangled, breathless and satisfied, in the aftermath. He finally unlatched his teeth lapping up your wound with his tongue  Swiping away all the blood. With San's cock still twitched inside you, his knot keeping you joined you finally felt like you could breathe.

"I love you…" San whispered your name, his voice tender. "My beautiful omega."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and contentment. "I love you too, San. My alpha."

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby trope Simon Riley / female reader

You’re startled.

He can tell just by the way your eyes pinch at the corners, your shoulders high and tight beneath your ears. You’re flustered, you’re stressed, rubbing small circles on the baby’s back, playing with the hem of the their hat.

Your discomfort, the unease radiating from your frame, combined with the saw blade currently buzzing through his brain, nearly makes him dizzy.

Still, even in this moment, you leave him breathless. He feels the same itch, the same swell of emotion as he looks at you, drinking every single detail in like a starved man.

He tries, and tries to make the connection.

I didn’t know how to contact you.

What does that mean?

It feels monumental, feels like there’s a black hole opening in his stomach, sucking his heart out into the universe to be obliterated.

It’s just there on the cusp, teetering on the edge.

I didn’t know how to contact you.

“I’m uh,” the baby’s tiny arm flings out a little fist towards your chest, and slide your finger into their grip, smoothing your thumb across, what he imagines, is very soft skin. “Do you have a minute?”

He nods wordlessly.

The cafe is quiet.

Simon can’t see the baby’s face. They have your complexion, your hair… but he doesn’t know what they look like. Not really. He doesn’t even know if they’re a boy or a girl.

He doesn’t know anything, and inside this out of control situation, he yearns for it. The plan. The knowledge, the ability to plot and counter plot the next move.

This… instability, this lingering question in the air-

fills him with fear.

An earl grey sits in front of you, spiraled steam curling in the air across the table, where you’re rocking a little bit, side to side, swaying like a sailor.

You worry your lip between your teeth. "I know this is kind of... a shock." He blinks. "I tried to find you, I scoured social media, I went back to the to the pub and asked if anyone knew you, I had them look through all their credit receipts from that night, but... everything was a dead end. It was like you were a ghost." His lips twitch.

"Why?" He thinks he knows, thinks he understands now, but he needs to hear you say it, needs to watch your lips form the words. You stare down at the table before taking a long, deep breath, placing your hand protectively against the back of the baby's head.

"This is your son, Simon."

And there it is.

He's a dad. There's a tiny life, a tiny piece of him, in this world now.

He's a father. A father, to a son, just like his brother was. A father, to a son, like his own father was, and his father before that. A vicious, endless cycle. One his brother vowed to break, and did.

One that terrifies Simon now.

The first words out of his mouth are unintentional, and cruel. "Are you sure?" He winces as soon as it splays out in the silence, and you wilt into a shade of embarrassment.

"I uh, yeah. I'm sure. The pill isn't foolproof and we weren't exactly... careful. I... um... there's no one else." You grimace, averting your eyes, and his stomach clenches.

"I didn't mean-"

"It's fine." You wave it off, keeping him at arms length. You keep your gaze down, and he curses himself. Making a mess of it already.

He's very good at compartmentalizing. It comes with the job, always has, but in this moment, he's struggling to stopgap the flow of consciousness that seems to be melding together by the minute. Worry, panic, fear all roar at the forefront, but beneath them, buried by mountains of darkness- shines something unexpected.

Happiness. Hope.

A baby.

Something possessive thrums inside him, beats in the veins of his heart. It's reverent, identical to way he felt the first night he met you, the night the two of you made him. Together.

You had his baby. You did. The girl who was everything. The sweet girl who took him like you were made for him.

No matter what happens, no matter where you go, he'll always be the man who gave you a baby. Who gave you his son.

It's sick, how pleased he feels. How satisfied. Something long buried in the genetics of human beings, now rearing its head inside his own.

You were everything, and now- you always will be.

His throat is suddenly very tight, nose stinging with effort to allay his emotions. "What's his name?"

"Orion." You smile, timidly, but tears shine in your eyes. "I really like stars. I used to tell him all about the constellations when I was pregnant. I call him Ry for short." Orion.

"I like it." He tells you gently, and you smile again, more confident.

"I'm glad." He studies you. You're beautiful, possibly even more so now, but there's a thread of exhaustion pulling across your face, like you haven't slept in a year.

A new realization settles in his bones like a chill, and his stomach pitches. He thinks he might sick.

You said there's been no one else, so you've been alone? Did you do this on your own? Do you have family, friends? Anyone to help you?

He's no fool. He watched Beth go through it all, struggle through it all, even when she had support.

And he was the asshole that walked out of your life that morning, not caring for the consequences. Not caring for you.

He missed it. He missed all of it.

"I'm sorry I left that morning without... saying anything. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'd take it back if I could." Your lips part in surprise, and then you nod.

"I- thank you." The baby fusses, tiny cry sounding from your chest, and you fidget with the carrier, pulling him free. "Do you want to hold him?"

Orion fits against his chest perfectly. It's like he was always meant to be there, nestled on top of his forearm, staring up at his dad. Simon is painfully and hyper aware of the little activity in the cafe, the people coming and going, but it does nothing to stop the tears that wet his cheeks.

"You're a natural." You whisper from your new seat next to him, hand smoothing over the back of the baby's head. "I knew he had your eyes, I remembered them so clearly. When he was born, it felt like I was looking into them all over again."

There are a million things he needs to say, to explain, and a million questions he needs to ask. Already the clock is ticking down to the time that he'll need to report on base. Already, the curtain is closing on this tiny piece of heaven he's found himself inside. He needs to tell you, have a frank conversation with you about his job, his life, everything.

But when he looks down at Orion, slowly falling asleep in his arms, and then looks up at you, he decides everything can wait.

The world looks different now, and he's never been more grateful-

and terrified.

[keyotosprompts]

not easy to please ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

alternatives to popular tropes

⇴ siblings's worst enemy

they're your sibling's enemy, so of course they're yours too. they're despicable and you seriously want them dead. luckily for you, the feeling's mutual.

⇴ struggling ceo and their know-it-all office worker

how did this mf become the ceo of one of the most progressive countries in the world?? they're clueless and you're the one that has to fix all their mistakes. you seriously don't get paid enough for this (unless they can come up with another way to pay you).

⇴ marriage of inconvenience

what happens in vegas stays in vegas. except when you've signed an official marriage contract, and everything is so much more complicated before. now this person is stuck with you until you can divorce! (or will you?)

⇴ forbidden hate

your parents absolutely adore the idea of the two of you together. they have wedding pinterest boards, future plans, and baby names for the two of you. only one thing: you two kinda hate each other, and hell would have to freeze over before you'd ever get with them.

⇴ no more second chances

sorry dude! f'ed up really bad the first time, and now you're not giving anymore chances, and your ex has to deal with the consequences. one problem: they can't deal with the consequences bc they're literally in love with you. hm. just what will this person do to get you back?

⇴ not so secret identity

everyone knows who they are. not even the old mask and hat trick could prevent people from identifying them. and it's fine–they absolutely bask in the fame. one problem though: they're a constant target to the entire world. perfect!

⇴ separated from each other

they never get any alone time. alone together in an elevator? too bad, a party of ten just showed up, pushing the two of you on the opposite side of the elevator. finally alone at home? nope! unfortunately, your friends make a surprise visit! oh how will you two ever get past this?

⇴ "you deserved it."

a normal person would've asked "who did this to you?" except your bond is not normal. not in the slightest. i mean seriously, what does this person want from you?

⇴ "i can't have you, so i'll let someone else take my place."

they know that they're not good enough for you, and that you deserve someone better than them. so, they choose to let you go, and hope that someone else can make your world light up like they used to

⇴ the one that is still here

everywhere you go, this person is there. whether it's physically, mentally, or spiritually, everything ties back to them. everything reminds you of them. you couldn't even escape if you tried.

⇴ playboy but he's actually a nerd that cannot get play

he's gorgeous–he's the most attractive man you think you've ever seen in your life. you think he's probably got it all–girls or boys coming up to him nonstop. only, that's not true in the slightest. somehow, he's managed to fumble every single time.

⇴ nobody wants the bad boy

he's troubled. there are rumors of him starting fights 24/7, and he lives in a bad area. he could really fuck someone up. nobody wants him.

⇴ "you must be delusional"

lovers that know that they're in love with each other, but when admitting it to their friends, they shut down their feelings.

⇴ loving someone to save them

none of that breaking up nonsense. love is power. their love and support causes you to be stronger than ever. knowing that there's love out there gives you a reason to keep on going. love saves you.

⇴ too smart to live

you've outdone yourself this time. bypassed every guard, rule, and law without anyone catching you. so, of course, there's only one solution here: to eliminate you.

⇴ different worlds (revised)

you grew up poor while they grew up rich. now, in the present, you are the more successful one, while they are struggling to get their life together. now, you must help the one who used to be in your current position, and fix things together.

⇴ one-sided blind date

rule one of having a blind date: you should not know who you're meeting. well, too late! you sneaked a peek at your friend's phone and found out who you'll be seeing soon. now, you're scrambling to get out of this date because you know exactly who it is.

[silviakundera]

18 episodes into Fateful Love, my honest raw thoughts:

It has that classic chinese drama feel - no Netflix-ification or Disney+ influences here!

It feels like a webnovel come to life on screen - you know how The Double is technically a web novel adaption, but it didn't FEEL like the novel at all? Not the case here!

Just like one of those tropey, excessive webnovels where the FL has a secret identity, outdoes everybody, has Very Special Talents™, marries a lord/prince, and there are an endless supply of bumbling, cartoonish villains who are all out to get her (for paper-thin reasons)

Hilariously fake looking props! The dagger with plastic ornaments on it and the scorpion ring really took me out. INCREDIBLE.

Battle guqin!! I unironically love wuxia that uses the qin as a weapon. 👏 👏 👏

YAAAAASSSSS blow shit up with your string instrument

Many entertaining fight scenes and some nice on-location scenery

The emperor character feels like the idea of an emperor if a 12 year old wrote it?? 🤔 He's just very absurd and his motivations are all over the place. Sometimes he is judging murder cases for some reason and sometimes he's scheming with his equally dumb and ridiculous consort. Very unserious people.

I keep having the sense that this is just like watching a mini-drama, except they put the filler back in. (If you are enjoying Fateful Love, definitely check out: "What Happened to My Princess?" and "Rise from the Ashes")

The main couple is fine. They have some chemistry and they're both likeable characters. I do enjoy the 'love after marriage' trope.

Compared to costume drama "Debit Queen", which was just quietly released by iqiyi, this one has a FL who is an adult woman who acts like an adult.

I'm enjoying FL's odd friendship with the enemy prince. Here's hoping he doesn't get weird & lovelorn about her. I prefer it as 'your mom was my shifu, now I'll be your shifu' dynamic - they should keep martial qin instructions going regardless of the larger political situation (yeah I'm at war w your husband, but have you memorized that finger position yet??)

You know you're watching classic cdrama when a female character who has been posing successfully as a man is completely exposed the moment her hair comes tumbling down, the crowd suddenly realizing 😂😂

Bottom line: this is not Nirvana in Fire or Joy of Life or Love Like The Galaxy, nor is it trying to be. It's often quite silly and it's meant to be entertaining. Don't come looking for complex characterization or clever plotting, just ask for a good time and don't think too hard about why things are happening or if it makes sense that character A would/could reasonably act like that to character B. Don't worry, be happy.

[thebadboyfanclub]

I Would Like That (Harwin x Reader)

Another Harwin imagine and this was actually really interesting cause I wanted to write a slow burn with an arranged marriage trope, I hope you like it.

Lady (y/n) Tower was a wonderful match for Harwin, a noble house of the river lands and allies to Harrenhal, his Father Lyonel did not want to discuss it further with Harwin, especially after the whispers amongst the red keep of Harwin's living princess Rhaenyra pregnant, the same that this would bring to house Strong would be fatal.

(Y/n) traveled to Kings landing to meet with her intended, Harwin was wildly disinterested but respectful, it was to his knowledge that the lady did not have a choice in this nor was it her scheme to be ripped away from Princess Rhaenyra.

“May I present the third of my four children, lady (y/n)”

“My lord”

(Y/n)s voice was as light as a feather as she bowed before her future lord husband and good father, Lyonel was impressed, the lady was young and attractive, and she would stand well next to his boy.

(Y/n) took in Harwin for the very first time, the rumors were true he looked quite powerful, he also looked as strong as he was handsome, with curls that fell loosely and deep blue eyes, she immediately pictures little children that inherited his eyes.

Harwin took her hand in his to place a kiss on the back of her palm, some would say it was a good start for the couple, however (y/n) only felt coldness radiating from his lips, he hadn’t said a thing and he did not appear to be excited or even interested.

She shifted from one foot to the other due to the uncomfortable aura that lingered within them, Lyonel waited for a minute to give his son a chance but to no avail.

“You must be tired, the journey is certainly long and we deeply appreciate you for coming all the way here, let us show you to your chamber”

“That sounds lovely”

(Y/n) had a target on her back, to which Harwin hated himself for it, the minute they were married he felt responsible for her, (y/n) is kind, poised, and optimistic, to be around her was like being in the sun, her warmth engulfed you, unfortunately for her a few days after their wedding princess Rhaenyra gave birth to Jacaerys Velaryon, a boy that looked almost identical to Ser Harwin.

One could imagine the embarrassment that ran through her veins when she had to bow before the princess and her husband and congratulate the couple for their heir, still, she smiled fondly at them before she peeked at the child, her hand landed on the top of his head to caress the babe's hair lovingly.

“Congratulations princess, one day I hope to be as lucky as you”

Some say it was a jab to Rhaenyra, others it was a secret pain that bled (y/n)s heart to death, whatever the case may be Harwin felt the urge to do better by her, every time his gaze fell upon her he was constantly reminded of how he was underperforming in his wedlock.

“I have arranged for us to leave when spring comes, harrenhal is lovely this time of year”

“I do not understand”

“We are going to settle to Harrenhal, I will take my place as my father's heir and you will be by my side”

(Y/n) did not respond, she just furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to find the reason behind his new plan, ever since they were wed Harwin had not only been the commander of the city watch, but he was also sworn knight to Princess Rhaenyra, how could he leave everything behind?

Harwin almost sensed the questions that occupied her brain and reached from his chair to grab the hand that was resting on the arm of her chair, Harwin and (y/n) were not usually physical with each other, as much as she would love to be Harwin had never shown that type of intention.

“I haven’t done right by you, it is time for me to treat you a lady Strong deserves to be treated”

(Y/n) smiled as her heartstrings played like the sweetest of harps and the words rested on her mind, it felt like a beacon of hope had finally been lit in her life.

She nodded before she bit her lip to hide her excitement, she could already imagine telling that story to her beloved daughter when she comes of age and must marry, to bestow optimism for what’s to come to her and show her that there is always room for improvement.

Unfortunately, one mustn’t know all the plans that the future holds.

Harwin had gotten into a fight with a commoner while he was on watch and had managed to slice in the belly, along with a pretty heavy wound on his head, his fellow knights had dragged him to his wife, waking up in the hour of the bat to see your husband bleeding and unconscious caused her to go in hysteria, she had woken up the entire castle with her screams and luckily the maester as well.

(Y/n) tended to him for a fortnight, sat by his bed awake, and cleaned his bandages every two hours like clockwork, the damage was not fatal but it was serious and if it got infected the cost would be his life, Harwin would wake up only to be fed by her, soup, water and bread, that was all he was allowed to consume since they had once tried to give him meat and he threw up almost immediately, his stomach could not handle it yet.

“(Y/n)”

“It’s me my love, time for supper”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around him like the maester had shown her to make it easier for him to sit up, Harwin grunted as he felt his flesh stretched which was an extremely unpleasant sensation alongside how fragile he had become.

“Here, I managed to convince the maester to let us add fish, I know eating the same thing can be boring”

“Nothing can be boring when you are the one that serves it, dear (y/n)”

(Y/n) could already detect the blood rushing to her cheeks as she was blushing, how could she not? Harwin had been in and out of consciousness for days, barely being able to speak, now as he slowly was coming up on his feet and (y/n) could listen to the sweet sound of his voice was a treat by itself, let alone to listen to such lovely compliments.

(Y/n) dipped the spoon on the plate before she blew slightly to cool the substance and then fed it to Harwin, the warmth of the soup brought comfort to him, and the combination of food with (y/n) looking at him with her deer-like eyes as she waited for a reaction was getting his spirits high.

“Oh I remember you, you were right, fish makes it better”

“If you digest it properly maester said that we can also try to help you walk, I was thinking of the gardens since the weather has been generous the past days”

“Not more than you, you have been more than generous to me”

“It is my duty as your wife to tend to you”

“No, it isn’t, you have been ridiculed by the court, you could have despised me and left me for dead”

“Harwin-“

“You endured it all, with grace at that, now you came to my aid and have been nothing but wonderful to me, you are more than I could ever ask for”

“You are not a bad man Harwin, I understand I was not the lady you would have chosen to be your lady wife”

“Indeed, I would not have picked you”

The scrunch of the nose that Harwin saw (y/n) does was enough to help him recognize that (y/n) was also hurting, badly, she thought that she came second and perhaps that stood true when they first met.

(Y/n) was about to feed him another spoonful before Harwin stopped her, once again he grabbed her hand but this time he brought her knuckles up to his lips to place a kiss full of endearment.

“Because I was a blind man that did not see the blessing that is you, I am delighted that my father was smart enough to see the gem that you are. I love you”

Tears came to her eyes as the weight that had kept her from breathing was finally lifted off her chest, she deserved a round of applause for how well she had kept it together for this long, only the Gods know the number of times (y/n) had cried herself to sleep from the unbearable burden of having to wed a man that already had a firstborn bastard and with a princess at that, she kept her spirits high for the sake of her family and to restrain herself from going insane.

“You healed my wounds, I believe it’s time that I heal yours, what do you say?”

“I would like that”

Her voice cracked as the tears ran down her cheeks for Harwin to reach and wipe away, it was hushed but it was enough of a response for Harwin to smile at her, silence fell upon them but as they stared back at one another all that needed to be said was there, to Harwin's hand resting upon hers and the fond grins.

They both experienced the relief of beginning a new chapter as they both held the pen together, their vows coming to fruition as they spiritually became one, accepting one another as someone to love and hold.

As (y/n) kept feeding her husband with the ritual of slightly blowing each spoonful for him slowly but surely the soup vanished from the dish and Harwin felt better than ever, it was perfect timing for his father to walk in.

“How are you today son?”

“Much better, my dear has been taking good care of me”

Lyonel came to a halt at the scene that unfolded before him, (y/n) placed the tray aside and Harwin stretched his arm to find her hips and pull her next to him, making (y/n) yelp from the surprise and plop right next to him.

Lyonel admired his good daughter ever since he met her, she was perfect for Harwin and the way she cared for him and stood by him was admirable, to say the least, now that Harwin had seen to look past his nose and become the man he should have been months ago to her was wonderful news, Lyonel nodded once as a smirk played on his lips.

“I see I am interrupting, I shall leave you to it”

“No, you are not interrupting my lord”

“Father with all due respect I would like to spend some time with my lady wife, in private”

Requests are open!

[bulkyphrase]

Identity Porn Rec List

Some of my favorite fics that deal with the difficulties and complications of having a secret identity.

Identity porn is a mainstay of Stony fic, but there are also some gems from Stucky, SamSteve, and whatever the ship name for Steve/Matt Murdock is.

given you a number, taken away your name by janonny (@awesomelifechoices) (Stony, General Audiences, 4,520 words)

Summary: As Tony behaves more erratically, S.H.I.E.L.D. sends in Steve as an undercover agent in S.I. to be Natasha’s back-up. Except Steve is really, really not cut out for this undercover business. - Before the lift’s doors closed, Stark suddenly grinned and said, “Call me Tony. Have a better rest of the day, big guy.” Awkwardly, Steve lifted his free hand and waved as the doors slid shut between them. What...what was he doing? Why was he waving? Steve hurriedly put his hand down and turned around sharply.

How to Woo the Winter Soldier by writeonclara (@writeonclara) (Stucky, General Audiences, 21,570 words)

Summary: “I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said. “What,” Natasha said. “What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier. “Steve, no,” Clint groaned. Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier. Also available as a podfic read by Akaihyou (@akaihyou)

I (created from fantasies) exist solely for you by Mizzy (@mizzy2k) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 62,917 words)

Summary: Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD. This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man. Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. Also available as a podfic read by badfinch (@read-by-badfinch)

More below the cut!

Love Is A Masquerade by Mizzy (@mizzy2k) (Stony, Mature, 12,010 words)

Summary: *loudspeaker noise* Please present your tickets here for your trip on the Steve/Tony Fantasy Trope Land express. On your left we have Masquerade Balls and Identity Porn; on the right we have Steve's Thirst for Iron Man's Thighs and Dramatic Balcony Kissing. Please keep your arms and legs within the ride at all times, thank you. Also featuring Classic Iron Man armor, Identity-Porn-Without-Porn, and Boys-In-Tights. You will need to leave your expectations for plot at the entrance to the fic; be kind and please pick up your trash before you go. Look, it's unrepentant fluff and crack, don't look at me like that, you're the one still reading this summary. [aka] When the Avengers are invited to attend Tony Stark's Annual Masquerade Ball, Steve's hoping Iron Man will be there--after all, he can wear a mask and keep his identity secret. So when Steve recognizes Iron Man's distinctive thighs, Steve is SO sure he's found Iron Man's pilot... He's right, but not in a way Steve would ever have guessed... Also available as a podfic read by paraka (@paraka)

Masked and Anonymous by panickyintheuk (@shiningredandgold) (Stony, Explicit, 4,236 words)

Summary: "When Mr. Stark opened the door, he had his shirt untucked, and no shoes on. It was evening, and it was his own apartment, and Steve was dropping by unannounced, so that was all really fair enough, but it was also the least put-together Steve had ever seen him." Steve drops in on Avengers benefactor Mr. Stark, but it seems that Mr. Stark was expecting him.

Not Just Anybody (Help) by kototyph (Samsteve, Teen And Up Audiences, 9,349 words)

Summary: Sam meets a homeless veteran with a famous name.

Straight on till Morning by Sineala (@sineala) (Stony, Explicit, 109,848 words)

Summary: Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he'd never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony's own design. What's more, the Avenger's captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive... and very, very attractive. But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own -- and the truth could change everything. Also available as a podfic read by M_Samro (@msamro)

Super Villain Dating Tips - Or How Steve Won Over Tony Through The Art of Kidnapping by forgetmenotjimmy (Stony, General Audiences, 46,265 words)

Summary: Steve isn't evil, he's just trying to do the right thing whilst hiding from an insane General who's out for his blood - literally - but when he is forced to kidnap Tony to help him escape the cops, his plans to take down the Secret Division that experimented on him, well, they get put on the back burner. How does a villain date a hero? More kidnapping of course!

The Blind Leading by SkyisGray (Stucky, Explicit, 43,034 words)

Summary: Steve is specifically told not to fraternize with the independently contracted Winter Soldier.

The Corruption of Captain America by the Villain Tony Stark by ladililn (@ladililn) (Stony, Explicit, 50,344 words (WIP))

Summary: Iron Man paused. “Oh my god. You thought I was a robot.” “No, I—” Steve felt his face flushing. “I…considered the possibility,” he admitted. “You thought I was a robot who’s been hitting on you.” “Is that really so crazy?” Steve felt an inexplicable need to defend himself. “In the forties, I fought a Nazi with a skull for a head.”

Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) by Sineala (@sineala) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 35,216 words)

Summary: No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

To Make Much of Time by Sineala (@sineala) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 16,114 words)

Summary: When Iron Man rejects Steve's romantic advances, Steve is disappointed, but of course he understands -- Iron Man's secret identity is important. But when a portal opens and Tony Stark crashes into their midst from twelve years in the future, Steve starts to suspect that there are more secrets here than he can even begin to comprehend, and neither Iron Man nor Tony are providing any answers. Also available as a podfic read by paraka (@paraka)

What Lies Behind by kdm103020, xinsomniac1101x (@kdm103020, with art by @xinsomniac1101x) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 63,364 words)

Summary: Four months after the Battle of New York, Steve Rogers still hasn't managed to find his footing. The new century is strange and upsetting, and he appears to have no purpose in it. But when SHIELD sends him to liaise with the director of Stark Industries, his life starts to change in ways he could never imagine. Or, the MCU-rooted AU, in which Steve and Tony both still maintain their secret identities.

with liberty and justice for all by ria_green (Matt Murdock/Steve Rogers, Teen And Up Audiences, 14,020 words)

Summary: Steve and Matt's relationship is basically a romantic comedy. Except for one minor complication - they're both hiding their superhero/vigilante identities from each other.

[flightfoot]

Sometimes I feel really salty about how out of the loop Adrien is.Okay, so they don't want Adrien and Marinette to know each other's identities for drama's sake. I get that. But why is it that Marinette has half a dozen (and counting) people who know her identity? Isn't that security breach more dangerous considering that she's the guardian and has the Miraculous that can fix everything after the battle? Why does Adrien have to remain isolated? Why is his only support system Plagg? Why should even Felix and Nathalie be on Marinette's side instead of supporting him? Why is it that loneliness, depression and the tension of hiding his identity are given less weight with him?

I'd say Adrien should go crazy, but that's the excuse they've used to keep him in the dark. Maybe if someone told him something in a controlled environment instead of in moments of tension He might have time to process and deal with things in a healthy way.Sometimes it feels like Adrien is inside a glass box, unable to interact and really get angry even though wow, the boy is certainly going through things And I just want him to break that box. Not to be rescued because at the moment of truth Nathalie, Felix and Kagami remained silent and LB decided to make the same decisions as Gabriel.

Adrien urgently needs an emancipation arc

I've got to agree with you there. It makes sense that Marinette's under a lot of stress when she can't tell her friends about her secret identity, and that her actually being able to tell people that secret, talk things out with them, and not have to lie to them, helps to alleviate that. I get that.

But dammit, Adrien ALSO has to keep things secret. He ALSO has a lot he's going through - more than Marinette even, especially now, with his dad dead! Let the stress and anguish HE goes through take center stage for a bit, and let HIM have a confidant. I'm really hoping that he at least gets to talk to Luka a bunch, but I doubt that'll actually happen. Dammit, Kagami doesn't even know that Adrien actually had very good reason to lie and ditch her, unlike Luka, who's fully aware of why Marinette had to do that.

I can sort of see WHY Marinette made the decision she did, and why Nathalie, Kagami, and presumably Felix are going along with it, but dammit, I'd like for Adrien to actually be treated as an equal and not some dainty princess in a tower. That trope gets old no matter which gender it's actually being applied to.

I'd love if Adrien actually found out the truth and people realized that they actually need to tell him things.

[b3aches]

On "The Lost Cause" by Cory Doctorow

tl;dr - The Lost Cause is an worthwhile read that provides a feeling of hope for the future. As with many novels by Cory Doctorow, it takes place in the near future and showcases one possible future.

A future where humanity is taking the drastic actions needed to manage the fallout of the climate crisis. But also a future where humanity is dealing with the backlash from the older crowd that fears change and the plutocrats that fund them.

The story is told from the point of view of Brooks Palazzo, a young adult living in Burbank California thirty years from now. The Green New Deal has passed, and he is part of the "first generation that doesn’t fear the future". He wants to make a difference in the world by joining the Blue Helmets AmeriCorps and helping to rebuild the lower half of San Juan Capistrano a mile inland.

Not everything is all rainbows and roses, however. Brook's grandfather and his Maga pals aren't huge fans of the changing world though. Neither are the plutocrats that lost out due to the GND...

You can get a copy of the ebook or audiobook directly from the author here. You can also buy the audiobook from libro.fm or get a physical copy from bookshop.org as a hardcover now or pre-order the paperback. You can also check and see if your local library has a copy.

This is going to be less of a review and more of an admiration for a specific trope that is masterfully used. Due to the nature of the trope, there will be spoilers, including major plot points near the climax of the novel. If you want to go in blind, stop reading now.

"If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there." — Anton Chekhov (From S. Shchukin, Memoirs. 1911.)

So, Chekhov's Gun. It's a guideline when writing narrative fiction that is commonly interpreted as: every element in a story should be needed, and anything that isn't needed should be removed. You could probably also think of it as a form of foreshadowing, but I'm not an author nor an authority on narrative fiction.

Anyway, spoiler alert - Brooks' grandfather dies during chapter one of the novel. As is common when a family member dies, the living have the chore of sorting through a lifetime's worth of items. As Brooks is the sole remaining person in his family, that task falls to him.

This leads to the below setup for the trope:

I felt around the edge and found a length of floorboard that wasn’t stuck down, and beneath it, a heavy nylon loop. I hauled on it and a square of floor lifted straight up, revealing Gramps’s secret. He’d jackhammered away a neat square of foundation slab, dug down about four feet, and poured a concrete vault, which he’d filled with: three AR-15s; forty boxes of ammo; a bag of expired high-strength antibiotics; a wilderness survival kit identical to the one he’d given me for my first Scout sleepout, including the hatchet my Scoutmaster had confiscated before we got on the bus; topographical maps of LA County; and, wrapped in oilcloth, a wooden box like you’d keep poker chips in, but this was full of krugerrands, heavy and glinting dully, dated mostly from the first and second decades of this century.

As guns are now illegal, this leads to Brooks stashing the guns, ammo, and gold in the hills of California by page 80. They get mentioned a few times throughout the novel, reminding you of their existence, but don't become really relevant to the plot until right before the climax.

A part of the story that almost feels like it could be the climax.

A group of Maga terrorists have taken Brooks' friends hostage. Brooks decides that in order to save his friends he has to go into the California hills and get the guns.

This, turns out, was not necessary. In fact, it's revealed later that the likeliest outcome of trying to perform an armed rescue would have been his death.

So, it comes to pass that the guns were introduced in the first act, and were subsequently not fired in the third.

The scene that completes the arc of trope:

That was what my grandfather had raised me to expect: a final confrontation, an all-out war, a battle for the future of the human race and its planet. That was what he was planning for, and right up until that moment, as I cleaned off his guns and hid them in the construction waste, I had never really considered the possibility that he’d been wrong. I’d thought there’d be a war with two sides: Gramps’s side and mine. I’d never thought that the real war would be between the people who refused to go to war and the fools who thought they could shoot climate change in the face.

So we have the setup, the implication that the guns will be used later in the novel. Only, they don't get used. They're practically useless, and almost actively harmful. But, given the themes and messaging of the book, the guns being useless is the only possible outcome. The subversion of this trope[0] drives the point home. Having some kind of final showdown isn't the message. Individuals storming the building with guns to to save the day would fly counter to the message of collective action being the way we move forward.

The message I took from the book was that building shelter for refugees is the way forward, even if doing that gets you arrested.

That feeding the hungry is the way forward, even if you get fined for it.

That taking care of people, even if those people were previously pointing a gun at you, is the way forward. (note: ensuring that they don't have access to their guns anymore is wise.)

The only way forward is to build the systems of mutual aid now, even if building those systems will be fraught with adversity and challenges.

No matter what happens, we will always be building the future in the shadow of the present. Only with collective action can we move forward, and only if we take care of each other.

[0] so, I'm not entirely convinced that this is really a subversion of the trope. While the guns aren't fired, they are necessary to the plot in the latter part of the book. But again, I am not an author nor an authority on narrative fiction.

[missmaywemeetagain]

Broken Glass (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! (Coming Soon)

Prompt: You are Dolores Cannava, a young Italian-American nurse desperate to make her own way in the world and break free of her dysfunctional mafia-connected family and traumatic past. Elvis Presley is just returning home from his two-year stint in the Army, looking more handsome than ever, but feeling the pressure to successfully find his way back to the stratospheric career he was forced to leave behind. In a twisted turn of fate, Elvis finds himself in the hospital where your paths cross. Forced to harbor his potentially career-ending secret and needing to escape a terrifying future in New York, you are pulled into his unusual world and must endure a begrudging fake relationship with Elvis in order to protect his reputation (and his life). 

TW: Hospitals, illness, allusions to abuse. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers.

Rating: PG (ish?) (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)   ||     Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: It’s good to be back, my lil’ darlin’s! I’ve missed y’all! Broken Glass has a decidedly different feel than Pink Scarf, and I really hope that you enjoy it. This will be more of a slow burn and not quite as smut heavy as PS, but we’ll get there eventually! The original character of Dolores can also be read as Reader, but her back story needed to be pretty specific so I decided to go the OC route. I’m excited to dive into some of my favorite tropes with this one, and hopefully I can do them justice.

Delicious 1960 Post-Army E has me in almost as much of a chokehold as ’69 E, so it was only right that I give him the attention he deserves! 

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance! 

I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

I’ve used the tag list from Pink Scarf, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Story is cross-posted to my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences! 

Bellevue Hospital

New York City, New York

March 1960

“Nurse Cannava!”

The shrill call of Charge Nurse Irma Hunt grates on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but you don’t dare show it on your face. Instead, you take a deep breath through your nose and hurry over to the severe woman.

“Yes, Nurse Hunt?” you say as evenly as possible. You’ve only been an official Registered Nurse for a few months and cannot afford to make a wrong step with this drill sergeant of a woman. You’d rather be extra deferential and placating than looking for a new job, no matter how much you want to run in the opposite direction any time she calls your name.

She looks at you critically, peering down over her glasses with her sharp stare. “Nurse Calhoun was pulled away to surgery before she was able to finish her other duties. I need you to change the sheets for our VIP patient while he’s upstairs for x-rays. I need you to be quick. In and out, no funny business, you understand me?”

“Of course, Nurse Hunt,” you nod frantically. It’s the middle of the night, so it is strange for the patient to be doing tests at this hour. Though if they are trying to keep his identity under wraps, it makes sense that they would choose an hour where less people were involved.

“And absolutely no telling anyone about our patient. We must uphold the strictest confidentiality, now more than ever,” she adds with a glare.

The threat is clear:

Don’t mess this up.

“I understand.” Curiosity of who it could be itches at the edge of your mind, wondering about this VIP that has the woman in more of a harsh mood than usual.

Maybe it’s Ricky Nelson or Mario Lanza or Marlon Brando, your mind titters, but it’s probably just some stuffy politician. You figure it’s better to have low expectations and be pleasantly surprised than to have high ones and be disappointed.

Ever the realist.

Regardless of who might be, you don’t have time for silly schoolgirl fantasies. There is a job to do, and you best be getting to it before getting into trouble.

You scurry away to gather fresh linens, then make your way back to one of the few private rooms on the floor. Most patients are relegated to the open wards here in Manhattan’s biggest hospital, but there are special cases, such as this, it seems, where a more private setting is needed.

There’s a large man at the door, keeping watch, and he looks you up and down with narrowed eyes longer than you’d like, sending a chill into your gut. But this is nothing new. You hold your ground, straightening your spine and lifting your chin.

“Nurse Hunt asked me to change the sheets,” you say, clipped. He smiles, as if in on a joke you’re not privy to, then opens the door.

At 20, you are the youngest nurse on the ward. People, especially men, tend to underestimate you, but you have something to prove and no time for nonsense. Graduating high school early, you were thrilled to be accepted to Bellevue School of Nursing, one of the best programs in the country. The four-year experience had been grueling, but since you had to live in the dormitory, it got you out of the house and away from your damned father and his cronies.

In the process, you discovered that helping people truly is your calling. So, while young, you are good at your job and take it seriously.

This is why you hurry in and start stripping the bed as quickly as possible. As curious as you are as to who this mysterious man might be, getting the job done is much more important than snooping around the room.

You tug and pull the sheets as taut as possible, perfect hospital corners making the bed crisp and neat. Your attention to detail and cleanliness are a sense of pride, so spending a little more time than necessary making sure the bed is perfect is worth it. The intention isn’t to linger, but if this VIP is as important as everyone is making him out to be, you want to make sure everything is done right.

Finally, after inspection, you gather up the dirty sheets and make your way around the bed, just as the door opens to the room.

Damn. You weren’t fast enough.

Your gaze cannot help but drop to the man in the wheelchair. A bandage is stuck at the edge of his thick chestnut locks. Although he is obviously ill, his sapphire eyes rimmed with dark circles and his pallor pale, there is absolutely no mistaking who the VIP is.

America’s biggest rebel-turned-G.I., the one and only Elvis Presley.

You are not a fan, but your heart unwillingly kerthunks against your ribcage anyway because he’s still one of the most famous men on the planet, and you are shocked at how pictures barely do the man justice.

Dear lord, even sick, he is wildly gorgeous in person, you catch yourself thinking. His essence seems to fill the room, pushing all the oxygen out, because suddenly you can’t catch your breath. Suddenly, you understand why millions of ladies fall faint at his feet.

Surprised to see someone in his room, his eyes rake up your body from your toes to your little white nurse’s cap. You hold back a shiver as those famous bedroom eyes finally land on yours.

“Well, hello there, little bird.”

Little bird? You know you shouldn’t let it bother you, but the pet name rankles you in its familiarity. You’ve been called all manner of things by all manner of men, both in and out of this hospital, but this is a new one, and though certainly not the worst, it bothers you all the same. Perhaps it’s because he acts as though he is owed this familiarity and expects you to be grateful for it.

His lilting Southern drawl is creaky and hoarse from illness, making him a little less mystical, which allows you to quickly recover your wits. Trying not to show annoyance on your face, you straighten your posture while moving aside to let the orderly push Elvis into the room and help him onto the bed.

“Goodnight, sir,” you say politely, as pissing off this VIP will do you no favors, but your eyes harden at the way his gaze openly lingers on you. You attempt to skirt around him as quickly as possible, but the room, though private, is not large, and the wheelchair and the two men take up much of the space.

“Hey, little bird, wait!” he calls out before you even reach the door.

Stopping in your tracks, your infernal heart continues to pound in your ears. All you want is to get out of this suffocating room, but you inhale and turn around instead. The orderly gives a wink before sliding out of the room behind you. You resist the urge to huff.

“It’s Nurse Cannava, sir,” you say firmly, trying to take the edge out of your voice, albeit unsuccessfully. “Is there something I can help you with?”

That sly, signature grin spreads almost bashfully across his face and if you weren’t so perturbed by the suggestiveness of it, you might keel over from its brilliance filling the small space.

“Call me Elvis, little birdy,” he drawls, blatantly ignoring using your given name, as requested. “Could ya be so kind as to get me some water? Please?” he asks kindly, which is far more than you expect.

“Yes, certainly, sir,” you reply, equally ignoring his request to call him Elvis. You turn on your heel and escape as quickly as possible before he can ask any more of you.

A breath shudders through you once you’re out in the hallway. You hadn’t realized you were holding it. You are as bothered by this reaction as by the fact that you must get this man water and go back in there without showing him that you are in any way affected by the fact that he’s Elvis Presley or that his behavior has you decidedly on edge.

He’s a patient, you remind myself silently, and this is part of my job. A job I desperately need to keep if I want to get out of that nightmare of a house...

This thought steadies you more than anything. You’ll do almost anything to be in a position to permanently leave home and to do so without having to marry that mook Gianni. And hell, you’ve dealt with much worse in terms of patient behavior. Getting Elvis water is objectively the easiest thing you’ve had to do all shift.

You can’t seem to help straightening your starched white apron before taking a deep breath and marching back into the room, pitcher of water and a glass in hand.

“Here you are, sir,” you say, trying not to sound terse, trying not to look directly at him. It’s almost like the feeling that you shouldn’t be looking at the sun, yet your eyes want to do it anyway. Even without looking at him, you can sense his heavy gaze lingering over you. You blush involuntarily, the blooming warmth a betrayal of your modesty. In response, you place the pitcher and water down on the table near him and turn to flee as quickly as possible without making it seem like that’s what you are doing.

“Hey, now, little bird,” Elvis says, catching the hem of your skirt, halting your exit. “Why ya tryin’ to fly away so fast?”

“Oh Madone,” you mumble under your breath, your Italian heritage making an appearance as you roll your eyes to the heavens before turning back around and pulling the fabric from his long fingers. Heat washes over you in an angry wave, turning your blush a deeper shade of red.

“I have other patients to tend to, sir.” It’s not a lie but sure feels like one with the strained way it falls off your tongue. Your lips press into a thin line of a smile, desperately trying not to glare at him but catching his eyes with your unamused ones all the same.

“Elvis,” he corrects me, maddingly, that smirk playing on his lips, a playfulness in his glassy, feverish eyes. “And I was just wonderin’ if ya could pour me a cup, since it’s all the way over d’ere?”

The water is on the table right next to the bed, and he certainly looks able to pour it himself, and you both know it, but he just smiles, playing this infuriating game, wasting your time.

Finally, you sigh and relent. It’ll be faster to just do it than to try an argue about it. He’s a patient, after all.

You still feel his eyes on you as you turn sideways and dutifully pour the water out. His presence, especially when focused on you alone, feels incredibly overwhelming, mixing a healthy dose of trepidation in with your irritation. You keep your face as neutral as possible and hand over the glass.

What you don’t expect is for him to touch you, his fingers circling over yours, blazing hot from the fever he looks to have. You loathe the way your heart flips in your chest when he looks up at you through impossibly long, feathering lashes, those gemstone eyes of his expressive beyond imagining and conveying more than just playfulness.

“Thank you, little bird,” he whispers. The sound swirls up your spine, breaking through your annoyance just enough to see the blithe, handsome boyishness of him. It promises an unfamiliar temptation, one you’ve seen only in movies and never willingly and truthfully experienced for yourself. Your mouth goes bone dry.

He is dangerous, you think, but not because you are afraid of him in a physical sense (and lord knows you’ve feared too many men already in your short lifetime). No, his is a danger of an entirely different sort. He makes you want to trust him, and in your experience, men are never, ever to be trusted.

“Nurse Cannava! What are you doing in here?” Nurse Hunt’s shrill admonishment startles you out of the hypnotizing stare of the teen idol, causing you to jump back as though he was on fire. You let go of the glass, slipping your hands out of his, but he does the same, and the glass spills water all over the newly changed sheets before tumbling to the floor where it shatters with a crash.

The tinkling of the glass explodes in your head, and a latent and all-too-familiar fear associated with the sound freezes you to the spot. Try as you might, you cannot stop the involuntary trembling that rushes through your limbs. Air attempts to fill your lungs, but the breaths are too short and shallow to do any good. The wave of panic threatens to undo you, right here, in front of both your superior and the most famous man in the world.

It's just broken glass. I’m safe. I’m at work. He can’t hurt me here. The mantra plays in your head over and over as you clasp your shaking hands in front of you, trying to pull yourself together before anyone notices anything amiss.

“I told you to be quick and quiet, not go around cavorting with our patient!” Hunt hisses harshly, glowering, but it snaps you out of the trance-like state that has overtaken you.

Now, instead of fearing things that cannot hurt you here, you are suddenly afraid for your job. Nurse Hunt is a terrifying and formidable leader and being on her bad side means a world of hurt going forward. Your heart feels like a hummingbird’s, fueled by anger, embarrassment, and lingering panic. You resist the urge to give Elvis a scathing look, knowing it will likely just result in more trouble. Instead, you quickly raise your eyes and catch a strangely curious yet concerned look from the man.

“I-I’m s-so sorry, Head Nurse,” you finally stammer out, realizing she is waiting for you to say something. “I’ll clean that up right away.” You start for the bed but are stopped by the crunching glass beneath your practical white nurse’s shoes.

“Ma’am?” Elvis croaks out suddenly, gently, capturing the older woman’s attention. “I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t mean to be a bother, but it wasn’t the young lady’s fault at all. I asked her for the water. She was just doin’ her job, and I distracted her. It’s my fault.” His bedroom eyes widen with an almost childlike deference as he looks at her through those long lashes.

Elvis oozes an effusive charm that makes the formidable woman’s hardened veneer crack. It might not be obvious to one who doesn’t know her, but her gaze softens ever so slightly.

You almost want to roll your eyes and scoff, but the strange thing is that it doesn’t feel at all like a put-on. It first strikes you as some sort of malevolent manipulation, like he wants to impress you somehow by getting you out of the mess he got you into, but he seems nothing but honest. He looks truly sorry.

You stand stock still, hands still clasped in front of your apron, needing to know your fate before moving. Nurse Hunt finally sighs, having weighed her options of denying her VIP’s puppy dog eyes or making your life miserable.

“Alright, Mr. Presley. Nurse Cannava will help you move to that chair there so she can change your sheets again and clean up this mess,” she says through pursed lips. “And you let her be and do her job, you hear? You’re not the only patient on the ward, young man.”

“Of course, ma’am. I really am sorry about the mess,” he says softly, seriously, nodding.

“Quickly, Nurse!” Nurse Hunt barks. Picking your jaw off the ground, you hustle to the other side of the bed, still amazed he was able to soften the old goat in any way.

It’s not until your arm is around his waist while the other steadies him in a well-practiced and trained move that you realize that you are holding a barely clothed Elvis Presley. A brief but decidedly improper and embarrassing thought flirts in the back of your mind as you help him into the chair in the corner. His skin is hot with fever, easily felt where your skin touches his and it radiates through his thin hospital gown. It burns into you, through you, melding with the unnerving, angry fire that already consumes you. You can feel his eyes on you but don’t dare to look at him, not with Hunt watching, making sure you don’t drop the prize patient.

You suppose you are glad for the fact that your cheeks were already on fire from humiliation, so neither can see just how uncomfortable and ashamed you feel right now. The way emotions flash rapidly through you, you’re amazed you can concentrate at all, but you manage to deposit the singer in the chair, unscathed.

Nurse Hunt huffs a little, but seems satisfied, and takes her leave, on to the next crisis.

A relieved but shuddering breath releases from you and without looking at the man in the chair that has caused so much trouble tonight, you jump to removing the sheets you made so perfectly not minutes ago.

“Hey, little b—Nurse Cannava,” Elvis catches himself, “I-I-I meant what I said—I really am sorry I made things harder on ya.”

You refuse to look at him. Instead, you grit your teeth and yank the sheets off, furious. Storming out of the room, you quickly retrieve a new set of sheets and a broom and dustpan for the glass on the floor.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he mutters as you stomp back in the room, dutifully ignoring his presence. You busy yourself with the glass first, sweeping it into a pile, then bending over to sweep it into the dustpan. You realize too late that you’ve just effectively but unwittingly shown Elvis your rear end. You can practically hear the smirk on his face, which is confirmed once you flit your eyes over to him.

A new wave of heat flushes over your cheeks, but you pretend you don’t notice his leering. Nothing good has come tonight from you paying any sort of mind to what Elvis is doing. You go about your business as swiftly as possible, counting the seconds before you can remove yourself from his suffocating presence.

“You just gonna ignore me now, honey? Come on, I-I-I said I-I was sorry,” he stutters petulantly after another minute of silence.

Your response is to tug the sheets as tight as you can. You move around the other side, hating that your behind will be in his face while you finish the bed, but it can’t be helped. You grit your teeth and focus on smoothing the sheets instead of the hole Elvis is burning through your backside.

“Well, at least I got a nice view in the room…of the city, I mean,” he chuckles. The innuendo is crystal clear.

You whirl around and want to slap that stupid grin right off his pretty face. You’ve never felt so unprofessional or off the rails as you do with this man.

He’s a patient, he’s a patient, he’s a VIP patient, you remind yourself, trying to take calming breaths. But try as you might, you can’t seem to keep your damn mouth shut, that Italian temper flaring, boiling your blood.

“Eyes up!” you snap your fingers at him. “I have work to do and a job to keep, and talking with you only gets me in trouble, so leave me be!” Blood throbs in your ears as you attempt unsuccessfully to keep your fury at bay.

“Ooh, I heard New York cherries were feisty, but I hadn’t the occasion to see it for m’self,” he muses, thinking he’s just about the funniest thing since Lenny Bruce.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” you mutter under your breath, fuming, turning around to finish the bed. Once it’s done, you breathe a sigh of relief and make to leave.

“Hey, little bird, you want an autograph or somethin’?” Elvis asks, still vying for your attention for whatever reason.

God, the ego on this one. “I don’t want anything from you.” You can’t help but turn towards him, even though you know you should leave as fast as your legs will carry you.

“Not a fan, huh? Bet I can change your mind,” he says, his left eyebrow quirking up suggestively. The man is as gorgeous as he is infuriating.

“I prefer Ricky Nelson, so no thanks,” you shoot back at him.

He fully laughs at that, a big, hiccupping, musical sound that under any other circumstance might be attractive and endearing, but now it just seeks to make you angrier. Your seething seems to amuse him all the more, however, as he erupts into more peals of laughter.

“You’re somethin’ else, lil’ bird,” he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. But his face suddenly turns alarmed as he can’t seem to catch his breath, the laughter turning into gasps.

“Elvis, enough of that. Let’s get you into bed.” Your training immediately overrides whatever negative feelings you might have towards the man. “Try to take slow, deep breaths,” you say calmly, crossing the room quickly.

His face turns red and panic starts to bloom in his darkening, churning eyes as he wheezes. You help him up and out of the chair, and he shudders, leaning all his weight on you. His breathing is too labored and he’s burning up, and you’re not sure he’ll make it the short way to the bed.

Indeed, the two of you only make it a single step before his long legs give way, and it’s all you can do to brace his tall, lean body and keep him from hitting the tile floor hard. Instead, you slide down together, and you make sure to cradle his head as he collapses.

You don’t panic. In fact, you are the calmest you’ve been since meeting the superstar because this you know you can handle. This is what you were born to do.

“We need some help in here!” you shout out to the ward before turning your attention back to Elvis, now sprawled on his back on the floor. You quickly grab the oxygen mask from his bedside and turn the nozzle to get the air flowing.

“Elvis, you’re going to be okay. I need you to try and breathe deep for me, as deep as you can,” you say, fitting the mask over his mouth. He coughs, struggling to get the air in his lungs. He seems in and out of consciousness, those panicked eyes of his now a stormy, glassy gray as they try to focus on you.

“That’s it, just breathe now,” you coo at him, taking his vitals. His pulse is too fast and thready. You give him a small smile, trying to keep him calm.

An orderly, a doctor, and another nurse rush in. You quickly rattle off numbers and facts regarding his respiratory distress.

“Let’s get him on the bed,” the doctor orders, and the four of you lift him on a count of three.

Elvis flails his hand, gripping your arm. It’s certainly not the first time a patient has grabbed you out of fear, but it is the first time you’ve ever felt a jolt of electricity running through you from it. Looking in his eyes, the terror you see there gives you pause.

He’s just a man, you think. A very frightened young man.

And he wants comfort. Care. So, despite wanting to throttle him earlier, you hold his hand. He clings to you as the team tries to stabilize him. Your touch seems to settle him a little, despite the way his eyes flutter and he still gasps for breath.  

You all manage to get him breathing better, but he won’t let go of you. He starts to panic again every time you try to move away, throwing his vitals into a tailspin. As weak as he may be, that strong guitar-playing hand of his has you in a vise-like grip. The doctor looks at you judgmentally, and you make it clear that you have no idea why this is happening, that you’d rather not be relegated to hand-holding duty. But since his vitals are better holding your hand, the doctor nods his okay.

Give the VIP patient what he needs, is the clear message.

Elvis stabilizes. The room clears, and you stand at his bedside, waiting for him to fall asleep, to relax, to release you—anything that will allow you to leave and get back to work and forget the last half an hour ever happened. His eyes are closed, but every time you try to slip away, he just pulls you back. You try not to sigh audibly, to let your frustration show. You are usually much more compassionate and professional, rarely letting patients get under your skin. But Elvis…well, he seems to bring out an unwanted side of your normally mild and shy self.

He’s not consciously trying to be bothersome like he was earlier; he’s much too scared and out of it for that, you reason.

And at least this is better than cleaning bedpans, you chuckle, finally deciding to sit on the edge of the bed and make yourself a little more comfortable. You take this somewhat surreal moment to really look at him.

He is truly beautiful. There is an almost angelic innocence about him with his pale skin and high cheekbones, the way his cheeks are somehow both full and soft, but his jaw chiseled at the same time. His lips are pillowy and full, though nearly colorless now due to the lack of oxygen. His hair gleams, a deep, golden chestnut—a far cry from the rebellious black locks he was known for at the height of his fame a few years ago. With his straight nose and fanning, long lashes, it seems as though he was carved in stone by the masters and brought to life somehow.

Your heart skips, quite involuntarily.

Of course, there are imperfections. He’s got a day’s worth of dark stubble growing and you can see places where his skin is mottled from what was probably youthful acne. The circles around his eyes are too dark and…

I am really reaching here, you think. No, you are quite at a loss because even his “imperfections” add to his beauty.

Okay, so objectively, he’s pretty—when he’s quiet and sleeping. It’s just when he opens his big mouth that he becomes less attractive. This reminder makes you feel better and less like a fawning teenager.

Finally, his hand relaxes, and you slip out of his grasp without him reaching for you. As if trying not to wake a sleeping baby, you very slowly and quietly raise yourself off the bed. But curiosity gets the better of you, halting your leave, and you quietly open his chart at the end of the bed.

Your eyes scan the pages quickly, widening, hardly containing your disbelief. They glance up at the unrealistically beautiful young man in the hospital bed. Though you barely know him, and what you do know of him has already driven you mad, you can’t help but feel a sense of sadness and dread.

It’s the thing all his bravado and beauty distracted you from.

Elvis Presley is a very, very ill man.

*

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[pumpkinsy0]

Since I’ve been really into the villain x hero trope lately (Toga x Ochako DESTROYED me) please do a villain x hero AU hcs with the papercut boys 🙏

the fellers!!! love those guys!!!! im srry im getting to this late, i woulda answered this earlier but i was so blehhhh so i hope u fw this!!!

•ok look, i dont see curly as a villain, but hes not a hero either!!! u cant rlly call him an anti hero or vigilante either bc hes not rlly that heroic??? he just b usin his powers for whatever he wants, good or bad

•w pony yea sure he can b a hero but he flip flops between hero and anti hero, its not a HUGE difference, but it is A difference, yknow???

•this means him and pony team up sometimes!! if their motivation aligns then yea, theyre vigilantes, but ponys always pulling curly back from doing too much

•if theyre enemies, u already know curlys hitting on pony to get under his skin and catch him off guard, and its acc won him some fights, and pony HATES it so badly cause he keeps falling for it

•its not lost on citizens either, pony and curly could b gone for a lil too long and the citizens r wondering where the hell they would go!!!

•god forbid pony “ignores” curly and fights some other enemy, curlys like an obsessive ex asking where ponys been and that hes been all bored

•what if they had that silly thing where they did know each others real identity and pony tries not bringing that to attention but curly doesnt care at all and will let pony know he knows his lil secret, curly gas such a shit eating grin

•pony holds back when fighting curly, he never wants to hurt the guy badly, but sometimes curly sees how strong pony could b and curlys thinking “woaw,,,,”

•ANOTHER SCENARIO but what if pony was in one if thise superhero groups and they need intel and ponys like “i know a guy☝🏻☝🏻!!!”, and he gets some tech that NOBODY else has and theyre just thinking “yeaaaaa hes def w someone on the low😒😒😒😒😒” (its curly)

•”who,,,,did this to u,,,,” “U????🙎🏻‍♂️🙎🏻‍♂️”

[kalcifers-blog]

Do you have TMA JSEgos ideas for all the egos?

YES I DO

Chase-

Affiliation with The Eye, in terms that he'd make a good Eye Avatar as well as the fact that he'd be a victim of it as well, everything that was shown in AF:CB was so unbelievably Eye Coded its unreal. I do think there would be some connection that could be made with The Lonely (for obvious reasons) The Buried (the idea of him being confined to a small room for days on end, and how suffocating it must feel to be in his position) and also The Desolation- with his greatest pain at the moment is him still actively grieving the loss of his family and how his life has been destroyed because of it.

JJ-

This mother fucker is so Web coded it's unreal. We have no idea what role JJ plays, whether he's a puppet or puppet master or both, and part of me thinks that JJ likes to keep it that way. I can see JJ being manipulative in the same way Martin is? It's all through surface level kindness, people pleasing and hiding his true feelings on a person, whether or not this is intentional is something I think should be completely left ambiguous.

Marvin -

Similar to Chase, I think Marvin has the potential for being extremely Eye Coded, but he goes about it in a very different way. Arguably he's more Eye Coded than Chase is in some ways- But I do also think that it could be a thing that he's equal parts Desolation and Eye, maybe with elements of The Hunt. He will hunt down the answers he craves that he's almost hungry for- and it will destroy him in the process, but he can't turn away from it.

Jackie -

This may be a teeny bit controversial since I've seen a few people say Jackie would be The Hunt or The Desolation- (which I don't entirely disagree with) but I think Jackie would be The Lonely and The Vast by far. The work of a hero is inherently an isolating one, there's no one Jackie can really go too for advice or who would understand even without the whole "needing to keep a secret identity" thing- and that's not even including that it doesn't really seem Jackie has too many people he can rely on ? Jackie's story also features space and the universe a lot and it's clear that he's very interested in it, he doesn't fear heights or falling, he embraces it even. Honestly, if he weren't poor he'd be prime for being a Fairchild.

Henrik -

I have so many different takes on what Henrik could be it's kinda insane but fuck it we ball. So first thing that comes to mind is The Spiral, due to the whole Mad Scientist trope Henrik seems to be based on and the whole Wonderland episode (iykyk) is very Henrik coded imo. However, there are also elements of The Corruption here? Where Henrik's manifestation of Anti could be a growing sickness - but this seems more like Henrik would be a victim of it than being an Avatar. Also I hear you out when it comes to Henrik being Not!Themed and I love the idea so fucking much like I really do and I can fully see that being a thing.

So my general idea is that Henrik had elements of The Spiral, maybe was affected by it in some way and maybe had a run in or two with The Corruption, before ultimately dying and being replaced by The Not!Them, leaving us as the viewers being the only ones noticing the change but not being able to do anything about it.

Anti -

I have a love-hate relationship when talking about Anti in terms of TMA avatar for him. But my general idea is that he is all of them. He's the manifestation of fear and can shift and change himself to whatever he's targeting to affect them in the worst way possible. I guess naturally he'll have more connection with the Eye to be able to do that but yeah.

I do have more thoughts which I might put in a reblog but I can't lie it's 4.33 AM and I am not thinking cohesively so I hope this works for the time being

[xxfillerxx]

Things im looking forward to in the hypmic 2024 albums: (BP spoilers)

EDIT updated

Nayuta Yamada waking up and FINDING OUT about all the drama. Her husband managed to find out a way to wake her up, worked with a new government that staged a coup, his kids disowned him and believed she was dead, and he made 30+ clones that were used for sacrifices on the hypnosis mic prototype. What happens when she wakes up and sees his cast from his broken arm that their son did 😭 i also hope shes actually an interesting character and not just that 'perfect dead wife' trope thingy. Ik i saw a great Nayuta headcanon that i REALLY want to be canon. I also hope we get a Nayuta design drop. Personally, I dont think she'll overly look like Ramuda bc Rei knew what the Ramuda clones were used for, so I doubt hed want to see her likeliness keep dying.

Oh my god the Yamada family drama HAS to go crazy. Like the whole hypmic plot was made bc one guy tried to get revenge on the world or whatever and wake up his comatose wife

I need to see what happens with this info publically. If Nayuta goes public, where does she live? On her own after she divorces Rei (JOKING but pls thatd be so funnyyyyy)? With rei in osaka? With BB? Godddd imagine saburo who didnt have the chance to really remember her and ohhhhhhh my ogddddd

God pls i want nayuta to pick up rapping since she was THE co-creator if not lead in creating the hypnosis mic AND have a cool mic design

ABOUT THE PUBLIC STUFF U NEED TO SEE DH'S REAVTION TO IT IF ITS NOT A SECRET. "You're telling us BB are your kids?! Wait wait you had a wife all this time?! What the fu-"

Mad trigger crew? Idk 🧍‍♂️ we might see more of rios commander, oh yeah id like to see what happens with samatoki and nemu in fighting for their ideals. There is the possibility that Nemu could become acting president or smth so ig if that happens? We see samatokis reaction? Honestly im just 💀💀 worried at samatokis words to ichiro from BP like "alright, if i participate and help in the festival then you have to listen to an order from me the next time that you cant refuse" like that sounds like bad foreshadowing even if prob nothing will happen to him 😭

oh yeah whatever happens to Ramuda AND THE OTHER CLONES OH GOD THE CLONES. do they privately help out at chuohku??? Live pubkic??? I remember chatting in the discord gc like "what if rei sets them up as a scam like u rent a ramuda and they live in ur home rent free for a while before going back". WHAT DOXYOU DO WITH 30 RAMUDAS. Im thinking they probably help chuohku as guard or w/e strictly in rhe building bc itd be chaos if ramuda clones got loose

GENTARO BBRORORORIRIRIROR GENTA BROOOOOOOO GENTBAROOOOO FUCK MAN THATS LIKE WHAT IM LOOKING FORWARD TO THE MOST FUCK. OKAY. THIS IS A BIG ONE. A DOOZY.

1) so gentsro took on his brothers identity THIS MESN THAT HE TOOK HIS NAME AS WELL, RIGHT??? WHAT IS GENTARO'S PREVIOUS NAME. IMAGINE IF HIS BROTHER WAKES UP AND THEN THE FIRST THING HE SAYS AS HE SEES GENTARO IS A NAME WE HAVENT HESRD BEFORE AND WE ALL GO "OH FUCK THATS GENTARO"

2) does gentaro still go public with chuohkus info as revenge??? Maybe not since hed just be focused on his brother waking up and all

i will be calling gentaros brother gentabro to ensure no confusion

DO THE YUMENOS GO PUBLIC WITH THE INFO??? gentaro is a celebrity rn with massive success so what happens? Do they still keep the switch private as gentabro does whatever and gentaro keeps living as his brother? Do they publically announce it? Just swap and gentaro changes his appearance a little so gentabro is still the author? Do they both work on publushing under the same name? I need to knoooow

FLINP POSSE MEETS THE YUMENOS. PLEASE bc of gentaros yume no kanata song MAYBE gentaro was still at least a little cynical and not so trusting before so IM GAINE IF HIS BRITHER IS LIKE PROUD OF HIM FOR MAKING FRUENDS. fling posse meeting them will be chaotic like "YOU HAD A BROTJET??????"

oh yeah whatever happens with dice and his mum. Im p sure thatll still be kept a secret but itd be so funny if it got revealled to FP

Ooohhhh id love to see jakurai reunited with his horrror movie protagonist son (WHY did he ring jakurai AND PROCEED T9 TELL HIM EVERYTHING WITHOUT HEARING HIS VOICE). maybe jaku gets emotional amd all then introduces him to Matenro 😭😭

Whatever the FUCK is honobono's deal and if things get resolved AKA she goes to jail for 1000000 years and whatwver needs to happen for hifumi to resolve stuff a little and put some closure on it

Homobono mic and spesker reveal PLEASE. oh god the honobono typos go crazy i once spelled HONKbono as well as bonobono just minutes ago.

PLEASE KR SHAKES BARS LIKE A MONKEY WITH RABIES I NEED HER MIC AND SPEAKER REVEAL STAT. girl doesnt even need a rap ability bc she only needs raw power to win

um ill update this list in the afternoon tomorrow bc i need to fucking studddyyyy exams start next week wish me luck! I will write a fuckton more of stuff i needd to see dw.

Addition still studying for exams hoping to crush it! Anyways:

i think everything jakurai and hitoya has been resolved already so not much need for that. BUT. IMAGINE IF JAKURAI AND REI MEET AS THE DILF DUO. I had a meme for this lol

DH? I dunno if anything needs resolving for DH aside from DH's reaction to rei and his family.

We need a Honobono and Shakku Harai showdown 😭😭 maybe its just bc shakku knows his son so well that his rap/sermon was effective but CURRENTLY THESE 2 ARE UNCONTESTED. pls shakku defeat the final boss

ummm ig thats all im mostly just looking forward to the gentabro stuff and everything related to the Yamada family. Like the hypmic plot would NOT be this convoluted or exist if it werent for Yamada dysfunctional nuclear family drama lmaoooo

OH YWAH HONOBONO MIC AND SPEAKER DESIGN AND NAYUTA DESIGN TOO PLS

Pls let nayuta be intwresting and not a perfect dead wife trope plz 🙏🙏

PS I FORGOT YEAHXI WANNA SEE WHOS THE PRIME MINIZTER NOW LOL. Is it otome stepping back up? Nemu despite being 19? Ichiro brime binister real? Im so curious.

[absurdly-overpowered-astronaut]

Hii jay, for the writer ask game ^_^

the last sentence you wrote

a trope you’re really into right now

where do you get your inspiration?

Hiii lemonnnn :D

What was the last sentence you wrote

“I swore to find the combination of words to set your true self free like a thief brute forcing a combination lock.”

But thats from my random sentence ideas for later doc and not an actual story so the last sentence from a actual piece of writing is

“My best friend seemed to turn this response over in his mind like how a scientist would a foreign life form. Looking for the logic and the line up with his experience but he still didn’t get it.”

A trope I really like right now

What ever these nerds have going on

How do I even explain but like the idea of a relationship thats this combination of secret identities , opposing sides , battle of wits , dehumanisation , guilt and feelings of not wanting to be alive anymore. Killing the other person , having to live on without the other person memory/personality overides.Being sworn enemies but also the closest people to each other.

(Light and L aren’t the best examples they are just there because I wanted a 4th example for nice tumblr formatting and they a lot of the criteria)

Like wanting so desperately to be understood but also so desperately clinging onto pushing everyone away as cruelty/detachment as a coping mechanism leading to de-humanisation of onesself in the pursuit a over-arching but at the end of the day deeply personal goal this on top of the drama from the battle of wits/secret identities element and how that just fuels the dehumanising/need to be understood in disastrous ways and the trust issues. The lingering feeling the story leaves you with this “we could have been friends/on the same side in another life where we weren’t in such dire fucked up circumstances” and just ahh the inevitability of it all the inevitability of the identity reveal , of the moments of rejection but also of vulnerability and the inevitability of the clash of ideals. One half knows they’ll end up hurting them or themselves. Beato knows if she keeps going battler will hurt and hate but she still hold out hope that he’ll come to understand her , Lelouch knows that if he keeps going he’ll be forced to face suzaku in the fight between the empire and black knights , Ren knows he’ll have to face akechi / akechi will continue to hurt the pt but he keeps meeting with him anyway.

I’ve ended up kinda expanding this into what feels like multiple tropes but the key thing I’m trying to get at is the character dynamic trope of: opposite sides + secret identities + most important person to each other + need to be understood conflicting with rejection coping mechanism and the toxic doomed dynamics that insue

Of for a less messy more nicely defined trope example the best friend character who dies at the start of the story who is then revealed to have been more connected to the plot or complex then it seemed and having the mc grapple with that.

Where do I get my inspiration from: it depends alot on the project like for crows I’m drawing alot of inspiration from channeled gay Netflix supernatural ghost shows (dead boy detectives , lock wood and co , dead end paranormal park ect) because that what I’m going for (sans the Netflix part) but for other projects the inspiration has been completely different I guess in a more general sense I get inspired alot by songs and my life/the lives of people I met. Most of my characters are just parts if myself I’ve cut off and given to them.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 13 – MISSION FIC

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: Shi_Toyu

Shi_Toyu's writing never fails to ratchet up the tension before it gives you that sweet, sweet relief of everything resolving itself. I love how they write action, especially with a focus on captivity, and their characterizations always feel really well-balanced.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

Poisonous Presumption

Pairing: Steve/Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 5,349 Tags: Assassination Attempt, Hydra, Humor

Summary: This was the worst assignment Davies has ever been given. Sure, it sounded easy upfront – infiltrate the Avengers medical staff and use his access to find weaknesses and sabotage medical treatments – however, it was proving to be anything but. Davies did have medical training and experience, which was part of why Hydra had picked him for this assignment, but the task itself was… complicated. -- When Tony Stark winds up in Avengers medical, an undercover Hydra agent sees the opportunity of a lifetime. It should be easy to tip the balance and send Iron Man into the waiting jaws of death... so why won't he die?

Reasons why I love it: The Avengers foiling HYDRA without even realizing that they're doing it, it's great. The whole concept of this fic is so funny, and I was completely caught off guard by the plot twist at the end. It's good stuff! Definitely check this one out!

Off Duty

Pairing: Steve/Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 2,667 Tags: Strippers, Undercover Missions, Secret Identity

Summary: Steve and Bucky go undercover as strippers to catch a human trafficker, only to meet someone they never would have expected. -- Doing his best not to trip in spindly heels, Steve strode toward the pole in the middle of the stage. The worst part of having to parade around in nothing but a thong, he decided, was that he didn’t even get to keep the bills the clientele stuck inside.

Reasons why I love it: I will never not love the 'undercover-as-a-stripper' trope. This fic is so much fun, plus the action is really great. Also, there's some fantastic art by araydre and FancyDragonQueen in this fic that you don't want to miss! Give this one a shot, it's amazing!

Too Close (Not Nearly Enough)

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: M Words: 10,051 Tags: Captivity, Brainwashing, Sharing Body Heat

Summary: Several months after the events of Civil War, Tony is attacked and captured by an old enemy with a new face. As if things weren't bad enough, he's not exactly thrilled to find out who his cellmate is, either.

Reasons why I love it: I love this fic so much. Tony and Bucky growing closer because they have a common enemy, only to end up actually liking each other is fantastic. I love how Bucky is protective of Tony from the very beginning, he's such a good guy. This fic is great, and I hope you check it out for yourself!

Hide Your Face, Hold My Heart

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: M Words: 5,386 Tags: BAMF Bucky, Secret Identity, Torture

Summary: Bucky had learned early on that life had a way of going to shit on very short notice. As a kid, that had meant running around and goofing off with Stevie only for an asthma attack to come out of seemingly nowhere. During the war, it meant creeping through the wilderness or a town or a base only for bullets to start flying. One minute you could be fighting back to back with your best friend, the next you could be falling to the bottom of a snowy chasm. That was just life.

Reasons why I love it: Identity porn, yuss!! I love how much they're both trying to keep the other safe, and of course the reveal at the end is really satisfying. This fic is fantastic, and I hope you give it a shot!

Out of Intent

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 4,036 Tags: Kidnapping, Winter Soldier Bucky, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: "Do less out of habit and more out of intent." When the Avengers are captured by Hydra, Bucky must pretend that the Winter Soldier programing is still active. Unfortunately, that means bringing some of Tony's worst fears to life.

Reasons why I love it: Aww, the last line is so sweet. It makes up for how painful the rest is, oofff, it hurts so good. I love the whole premise, and the writing just makes it all feel so tense and awful in the best possible way. This fic is amazing, and I highly encourage you to read it!

[kbirbpods]

I thought I was not going to need to make major updates to my letter by the time ITPE popped up but I discovered a few changes I'd like to make so here we are.

But! You can always take a peak at my previous letters to see my broader interests: Summer Swap '24 | Purimgifts ‘24 | ITPE '23

ITPE 2024 letter below the cut!

Fandoms & Characters I Would Love to Receive:

I am hoping to have my main gifter make me something from one of the following fandoms!

(1) Star Wars: I love so much Star Wars that to split it into subfandoms would make this post too long. I think it’s easiest to say this: I prefer Clone Wars, Rebels, Rogue One/Andor, anything about Jon Antilles, anything about Hevy & the Domino Squad, anything Ahsoka Tano, Mandalorian culture (including Din & Grogu content!), and Mando'a as a language.

My main ships are: Cody/Obi-Wan, Kallus/Zeb, Hevy/anyone (consensual), Finn/Poe or Finn/Poe/Rey, blackkat rarepairs (mainly Jon Antilles/anyone), Jon Antilles & Fay (platonic), Waxer/Boil, Fives/Echo, Kanan/Hera, Quinlan/Fox(/Jon), Quinlan/Obi-Wan(/Cody), & Fox/Bail/Breha [also Clone OC ships!!] My favorite characters are: Hevy, Fox, Cody, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Leia, Poe, Fives, Luke, Jon Antilles, Fay (Legends)

(2) Batfam/DC: I can be picky and yet not? Basically, I just prefer no inner-Batfam fics of the boys because I truly view them as brothers. Jason is my boy forever & always. My favorite ships are Jason Todd/Roy Harper(/Kori), Dick Grayson/Wally West, Harley/Ivy, Tim Drake/Kon, Tim/Bernard, Tim/Kon/Bernard, and Wally/Artemis from Young Justice. I am pretty knowledgeable about comics, too, and I keep up with the current runs of: Poison Ivy, Gotham City Sirens, & Red Hood: The Hill. This is the fandom that I specifically am obsessed with found family in. – I love exploring Alfred being the boys’ Grandpa and Bruce’s complex dadhood!

Honorable mention here to Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton/Jason Todd as a ship I love.

(3) DPxDC: I have been tentatively eyeing this crossover since last year's Pod-O-Ween but I was fully flung into it during the summer. It got me writing again! This fandom is so rich with potential regarding like... when you fling them into one another's timelines, meaning my ships go EVERYWHERE. Take one of my DC ships and put a character from Danny Phantom in it and you will probably find a ship I like. But I really love: Tim Drake/Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton/Jason Todd(/Roy Harper), Steph Brown/(Cass/)Sam Manson, Cassandra Cain/Sam Manson, Jazz Fenton/Barbara Gordon. I've podficced some Danny/Dick, too!! Like I said, it really depends when you cross the timelines over. As always, I will EAT UP genfic for this fandom!! I REALLY love the "demon twins" AUs, which are Danny & Damian as twins (or Danny as one of the Damian clones). So, yes... I love this so much.

(4) A RARE ASK: I am super into both Dragon Age & Mass Effect. The former is much easier to find fandom for and there are a lot of fics with blanket permission statements. For Dragon Age, DA:O is my favorite (especially Alistair) or any sort of Hawke!centric fics. But in April 2024 I became re-obsessed with Mass Effect & it has continued. My rare ask is for Mass Effect fics - specifically Shep/Garrus or Shep/Liara (or them as a triad). Or gen fic!! But I feel like I am on an island here lol

Other fandoms I like but are not on my "fandoms I prefer to receive this year for a main gift" list are in the linked old letters, if anyone is looking for treat ideas!

Things I Like, Regardless of Fandom:

THEMES: trans/nonbinary characters (extra points for neopronouns); gender exploration in general; found family (genfic or otherwise); angst with a happy ending; polyamory; good asexual or aromantic representation; genfic

TROPES: fix-it fics!! extra points for time travel or time loops in fix its; fake dating/marriage; mutual pining; soulmates (AU or just clearly soulmates); crack treated seriously; rivals-to-friends/lovers; oops only one bed; secret identities; CROSSOVERS!

AUs: soulmates soulmates soulmates; regency era (or any different era); modern AU; crossovers, provided i know the other fandom or the fic doesn’t require knowledge of the other fandom!; college/sport AU; fantasy/fae AUs

Star Wars AUs/Tropes (yes they need their own categories): force sensitive clones; Jon Antilles lives; [insert clone here] lives; Anakin doesn’t fall; Palpatine dies; Domino Squad Lives; "no Order-66"/"Order-66 happens differently"; force sensitive Leia; modern AUs; trans clones

PODFIC SPECIFIC: anything epistolary (texting/chat fics especially but letters and such are also fun to explore); including music / SFX if you’re comfortable; including bloopers if you have them/are comfortable exposing them

RATINGS: Contrary to popular belief I do not hate explicit fics so really any rating but I generally prefer G-M because I can be picky about what explicit content I’m absorbing.

Do Not Wants (triggers, squicks, please no):

major archive warnings (major character death is okay so long as it’s temporary and resolved or implied/referenced)

I really don’t like pregnancy, which includes MPREG (I like omegaverse dynamics minus that aspect) - kidfic is cool I just don’t want pregnancy as a theme & especially not graphic depictions of pregnancy or childbirth

suicide/self-harm “on screen” (mentions of past suicidal ideation/self harm are fine if not a flashback/graphic)

non-/dub-con or any depictions of rape (once again, recovery is okay if done well)

adult/minor relationships or relationships with unaddressed/starkly imbalanced power dynamics

any sort of poorly depicted mental health tropes (no BPD or other personality disorder bashing, no institutionalization, no “split personality” as a trope) - i really like explorations of PTSD/trauma but it has to be handled with fidelity and gentleness

I have a random trigger about cockroaches

as a note: I do not like slave!fic but acknowledge that the situation of the clones is, at it’s core, a form of slavery. so while i ask for slave!fic AUs to be fully avoided, I do appreciate fics that tackle that aspect of the Clone Wars series with tact, fidelity, and honesty.

Authors with BP that I love, as a starting point:

Flowerparrish, trixree, wanderingjedihistorian, hoebiwan, blackkat, cac0daemonia, elismor_aswell, SunsetsOverLA, friendoftheJabberwock, ziazippy5379, Rivulet027

Offering the following fandoms & ships:

Anything I listed above with any of the caveats! This would get really long if I repeated those again. THAT BEING SAID: I will create content for those fandoms even if it’s not one of my listed ships.

However I will not create podfic for the following ships: STAR WARS: Rey/Kylo, Leia/Luke, Rex/Ahsoka, Cody/Rex, any Master/Padawan relationship, or Palpatine/Anakin. BATFAM: inner!Batboys as mentioned, Joker/Harley, Bruce/any of the kids (including Dick, yes)

Other fandoms I will create content for:

(1) Ted Lasso: Roy/Keeley/Jamie, Ted/Trent, Roy/Keeley, and Jamie/Dani. Ted & Rebecca as platonic soulmates/besties in general. (2) The Locked Tomb: Gideon/Harrow, Cam & Pal, Gideon & Cam. + I really like fics where one or both of them are trans/nonbinary. Nona is my favorite character. Modern AUs. (3) ATLA: Zuko/Sokka, found family, gen fic. (4) All for the Game: Jean/Jeremy, Andrew/Neil, Renee/Allison, Andrew/Neil/Kevin. Gen fics around the Foxes or Trojans, too! (5) Marvel/MCU: Steve/Bucky, Clint/Bucky, Kate Bishop/America Chavez, and Spideypool (as long as they’re both adults). (6) Stranger Things: Steve & Robin, Steve/Eddie, Robin/Chrissy, Chrissy & Eddie, Chrissy/Eddie

[sitp-recs]

hi liv, hope you’re doing well! i have some asks too!

how did you start shipping drarry?

would do please go on a giddy, adoring rant about how much you love drarry?

thank you so much and hope you have the best day ever <3

Hi anon, sure ask away! I don’t know if this will be the adoring rant you were hoping for but it will be an honest one 😊

I’m not quite sure how I first found Drarry fic - it’s been so long my memory is fuzzy! But I’m certain I started shipping them shortly after watching Chamber of Secrets. How could I not? The tension, the implications & complications, the blonde x brunette aesthetics! But I wasn’t fluent in English back then, so I’d mostly read fics in my mother tongue on Brazilian archives and on ff.net. Green Eyes was a major hit back then and one of my favorites. I started reading in English sometime around 2005, that’s when I found FictionAlley, Hex Files etc. I remember being utterly obsessed with Irresistible Poison, i don’t know how many times I’ve read it in a row, together with other old classics like Eclipse, Bond, Maya’s fics.

To be clear, I wasn’t only reading Drarry back then. I’ve always been a multishipper at heart and my fascination with the problematique was awaken pretty early on lol I’ve read all kinds of ships (If You Are Prepared is a Snarry series that still haunts me to this day) and tropes you can imagine - in fact, I was into sooo much stuff I don’t enjoy as much these days, like dub/non con, bond fic, Amortentia, infidelity etc. I’ve read it all and had a blast! I’ve also had a brief Wolfstar and even briefer Scorbus phase when Cursed Child was released but haven’t revisited them since. The sad thing about reading mlm as a kid and having to hide your internet history is that I didn’t keep track of anything :(

After 2008 I took 2 major breaks from fandom but my interest in Drarry remained, and I’d still read it occasionally, despite being completely immersed in another fandom. Something about the fic quality, the epic stories, the emotional payoff in Drarry still hit me hard and lured me in. But I was a lurker, too shy to interact besides embarrassingly long comments on ao3. I had no fandom friends. That changed when I got into the MCU in 2013 and created a Tumblr to get involved with the community. I had 2 short-lived but intense otps that consumed me as much as Drarry does, and I shared my first rec lists on a sideblog for one of them. But like I said, I’d still read Drarry on occasion! I found RoA as soon as it was published, and thankfully sara_holmes wrote for both HP and MCU 🙏🏼

I’ve said this before but I think my love for Drarry remained untouched over the years for a variety of reasons: the first one is that I really really loved the universe, and through fandom, I’ve fallen deeper in love with the (fleshed out) version of of these characters. I loved fics that were creative and full of world building because I couldn’t get enough of that magical universe. Unfortunately JKR ruined my sense of wonder for canon beyond repair and so I’ve had to repurpose the way I experience fandom and what I seek out of it. I haven’t read the books or watched the movies in a very long time and at this point my perception and feelings about HP and Drarry are fully shaped by my experience here, by the brilliant works I’ve read and the dear friends I’ve made.

Now this is about finding a safe and welcoming community in this corner of fandom, one that’s compassionate, brave, kind and that explores these characters the way I want to see. Now it’s about feeling like I belong somewhere after so many years of lurking around. Besides, enemies to lovers will always be one of my favourite tropes, I find it really compelling and I love the many ways we find to get these idiots to fall in love with each other over and over again. It’s certainly been a rollercoaster with lots of ups and downs, but fandom has been a big part of my life and identity for two decades now , and I’m nowhere near done 💜