#STUPID LYNX IS GUILTY FOR IT

[songthursh]

Someone can "Ah, Vimes" his way out of any situation (c) my wife @stupidlynx

[infernalrevenge]

I’ll Cover You, My Love

Fandom: Choices - Foreign Affairs

Pairing: Ayna Seth x M!MC (Magnus Quezon)

Rating: T (for some self-deprecating stuff)

Summary: Ayna feels guilty about Magnus taking the brunt of the scandal, but he is having none of her negative talk.

Notes: Ayna betrayal plotline? Who's that? Never heard of her. That never happened. I don't know what you're talking about. Anyway, here's a comfort fic for my favorite TA, because I will not take any Ayna slander, not even from Ayna herself. I would just like to say that before I locked in my scandal partner, I had such a hard time picking between Ayna and Blaine, but I went with the latter for maximum drama. Doesn’t mean I still can’t ship my current MC with Ayna though, because I can do what I want. I hope y’all enjoy!

Also hi, I know you asked to be tagged in this :P @robintora

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Ayna leaned against her hand propped up on her desk, the words on the paper she was reading starting to blur as she tried her best to stay awake. Ever since she saw the front page cover of the stupid tabloid and Magnus had been the talk of the proverbial town, she hadn’t been able to get a good night's rest as she was wracked with anger and guilt.

Anger at the people who have passed judgement on him so quickly, who decided they knew exactly what kind of person he was based on one stupid picture and the speculations not just on the company he kept, but also on his character...

...and guilt for not being there to take the fall with him. A part of her kept wondering what might have happened if she didn’t get the chance to cover her face the way she did that night. Another part wondered what would have happened if she had just come forward earlier, but Magnus quickly shot the idea down. He explained to her that it was for the best, that he wanted to protect her from the scrutiny.

"You don't have an entire PR team that can spin the story around or make sure it gets buried. This won't just ruin your image -- if you lose your job because of this, it could ruin your life. Please don't say anything to anyone. Let me do this for you, I can handle it," he told her the last time they talked in person. She knew he was just trying to reassure her, but even she can see through the sadness and stress in his eyes, despite the smile he gave then.

At the moment, she simply was not in the best state of mind, and adding to the pile the other things she had going on in her life... she was damn near close to bursting. She was just about to take another sip of coffee, desperate to stay awake, when she heard a knock on her office door. "Come in."

In popped up a familiar head of fiery red hair, his eyes seeming to dart around cautiously before realizing she was alone. A bright smile shone on his face as he came in, waving off to someone from behind the door.

"Magnus, what are you doing here?" Ayna yelped in surprise, standing up.

"I came to see you," he said like it was the most obvious thing, slowly closing the door behind him to make minimal sound.

"What, w-what if someone saw you? Someone might've tailed you o-or people might get suspicious--"

"Hey, don't worry," Magnus stepped toward her, laying his hand on top of hers. "If anyone saw me, they might just think I needed to talk to you about something -- you're also my academic advisor, after all. Plus, Tatum checked and not many other people are out there. I told him to take a short walk so people won't suspect that I’m here for too long."

"Yeah, but we need to be more careful still, I don't want you to--"

"Ayna, I promise I've got it covered, okay?" He squeezed her hand in his, and laid the other one on top. "Just trust me."

She looked up at him, sighing wearily as she let her shoulders relax and sat back down. The young man offered a smile of reassurance, taking a seat from across her desk and carrying it over to the other side to sit next to her. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Honestly? Not great,” she replied, leaning back as she glanced at her laptop screen, multiple windows and tabs opened. “This manuscript isn’t exactly easy to write,” she added with a chuckle. Working on it had been her way of distracting herself from other problems recently, but it wasn’t entirely successful. Her mind had still been brewing with “what-ifs” -- it was much easier to be told not to worry than to actually do it. But she didn’t want to dwell on herself for too long.

“What about you, though? I know the last few weeks have been...” she trailed off, looking down as she was unsure.

“It hasn’t been all bad. I did get Joaquin, after all.” Ah yes, that lynx he got at the pet store during that live interview. Ayna had tuned into it then, and she remembered her fists clenching when the host brought up the scandal unprompted. She almost wished she could have told off that nosy woman to keep out of his personal life, but the way he was able to take back control of it was quite an admirable sight.

“You wanna see pictures?” He excitedly brought out his phone, leaning closer to show her the whole album he had dedicated to the small feline.

“You’ve had him for all of two weeks and you’ve already taken, what, a hundred pictures?” She couldn’t help the amused laugh that escaped her, listening to him coo at nearly every photo he swept through -- some of Joaquin jumping around, some playing with toys, and even some with Dionne in the frame. She had to admit, the combination of the adorable pictures and the equally adorable sight of him describing each one did help lift her spirits a little.

“I can’t help being a proud papa now,” he said, stopping on the picture of the one he took of Joaquin’s first day in the suite. “He’s been helpful in... distracting me, I guess. He somehow just knows what I’m feeling, coming in to comfort me at the right time. The break from reality is always welcome.”

Magnus looked at the woman, noting how her eyebrows furrowed and the frown she wore as he talked about his experience. “Sounds like you might need a break too.”

“This dissertation isn’t gonna finish itself.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Ayna.”

Guess he managed to learn a thing or two from the lynx then.

“I know you said not to worry about it, that you’d handle it, but...” she sighed, shrinking into herself as she avoided his gaze. “I can’t help it when it’s about you. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, having thousands of eyes watching you, like they’re waiting for you to slip up.”

The Rutherlandian reached around and wrapped an arm on her shoulders, pulling her closer. “It’s not really anything I haven’t dealt with before. In a way, I’ve kinda gotten used to it.”

“But a scandal of this proportion? That... that has to be different,” she replied, trying to allow herself to lean into him, but not feeling like she deserved his comfort. “It’s not just people waiting for you to mess up now, because they already think you have and they want to watch the whole downward spiral.”

Magnus knew she had been feeling guilty over not getting to step forward and take part of the “blame” (if one could even call it that), but he had no idea how much this was eating at her.

“I can’t help but feel awful that you’ve become the target of such harassment. It wasn’t even your fault! And your mother shouldn’t blame you for everything either, you’re just living your life!”

“Ayna--”

“And here I am. I’m not the one being swarmed by paparazzi and having personal details of my life picked at, but I’m the one who’s stressed and anxious about it. God, how fucking selfish is it of me, feeling sorry for myself when you’re the one dealing with it all. It’s stupid of me to just--”

Ayna felt her face turned up, a gentle yet firm hand cupping her cheek as she met another pair of brown eyes. Anything else she might have wanted to say died off as they looked at each other, but she felt grounded by the way his thumb caressed her cheek.

“You don’t have to feel bad for worrying about me. I love that you care,” he said softly, a small smile playing on his lips. “But it’s not your fault either. What happened already happened, we can’t change that.”

I still wish I could.

The teacher’s assistant let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch as she brought her hand up to cover his. “I... don’t deserve you, Magnus.”

“No, no, don’t say that. You are kind and beautiful, and you just have-- you have such pure intentions. I know you want to weather the storm with me on this, but I’m doing this for both our sakes. I want you to come out of this safe. Even if they did somehow know it was you, I’d still be keeping you out of it. You shouldn’t have to go through what I do.”

She shook her head, her eyes starting to look glassy as she took in his words. She wanted to believe what he was saying about her, but it was so hard. She didn’t know how he could see those things in her, especially now, vulnerable as she was. She could feel her throat start to choke up, but she spoke anyway. “I wish you didn’t have to... go through it alone. This... this isn’t worth it.” I’m not worth it.

“It is worth it, because you are absolutely worth going through this for.” He started to brush away the tears that rolled down her cheek, before digging into his pockets to find a handkerchief.

“And I’m not going through this alone. I still have you here with me,” he patted her face dry gently, wanting to let her absorb the meaning of his words. He wanted her to know that he meant every word -- that he was sincere in his feelings for her. “Even if you’re not out there with me, knowing that you have my back helps give me the strength to get through another day.”

His patient reassurance lightened the burden inside, if only a little. He knew it wouldn’t be so easy to get her to believe it all, but he would make her see it someday, no matter how long it took.

“I care about you so much, Ayna. You mean more to me than you know.”

Even though it didn’t fully relieve her of the heaviness, those words struck her in a way that helped pull her out of her head. For the first time since the day started, she smiled. A genuine, loving smile through her tears, from knowing that the person she adored so deeply felt the same way about her. If earlier her heart ached with sadness and guilt, now it ached with affection and love for him.

“I care about you too, Magnus,” she said with a sniffle, clearing her throat as it came out rather soft and high-pitched. “I care about you so, so much. I just kinda wish... I could, like, smack away every paparazzo trying to get near you right now.”

Magnus laughed at her exclamation. Sure, he expected that kind of outburst from his friend Blaine, but from Ayna? It was both amusing and endearing.

“Well when we become public, maybe you could. Tatum might even help you with that,” he replied, giving her the handkerchief.

A simple word gave her pause, making her look up at him again, a hopeful glint in her eyes. “When?”

“Well yeah. I... I really like you, Ayna. And I’m not just saying that, I really do. I was kinda hoping that, one day, when things are more, uh, quiet, we could actually be... you know, like, together together.” If his arm wasn’t around her then, he would have been wringing his hands together out of nerves. Was it too soon to bring up that kind of talk? Too soon for them? What if he just jumped into this? He hadn’t even considered if she wanted a relationship yet. Wait wait, he should backtrack--

Ayna pushed forward to kiss him, hands cupping his face as she kept him close. It didn’t take long for Magnus to fall into it, returning it just as eagerly. He could practically feel her smiling against him, a light and fluttering sensation filling his stomach. After a few moments in bliss, they slowly pulled apart, a wide smile on both their faces.

“I would love to be together together with you,” she teased, earning an exasperated sigh from the First Son.

“I get the feeling you’re not gonna let me live that down, huh?”

She only laughed in response, pecking him quickly on the lips again. “Thank you for everything so far, Magnus. I hope I didn’t seem ungrateful for your protection.”

“Not at all, don’t give me that talk.” He rested his forehead onto hers, his gaze turning soft. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Her thumb gently caressed his cheek, smiling fondly at him. “Would you... let me meet Joaquin some time?”

Needless to say, he said yes.

.

.

.

(The next time Magnus visited her, he came in with an odd lump tucked in the front of his hoodie.

“You know, when I asked to meet Joaquin, I didn’t mean you had to sneak him into my office.”

“...do you want me to go then?”

“No, show me the kitten.”)

[melon-official]

atlas for the character profile mayhaps? :0

Full Name: Atlas (havent decided on a last name for them yet) Gender and Sexuality: nonbinary, asexual Pronouns: he/they Species: inkling Birthplace and Birthdate: also haven’t really decided hehe. he’s still a wip. bday is november 24 Guilty Pleasures: monster energy Phobias: nothing What They Would Be Famous For: flipping off a news caster What They Would Get Arrested For: stabbing OC You Ship Them With: no one  OC Most Likely To Murder Them: lynx @carniecarnage Favorite Movie/Book Genre: fighting games. but like, street fighter, not cod Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: romance. he just gets bored Talents and/or Powers: surprisingly really strong n athletic. has chronic bad luck, but can bench press anyone in the nss easy Why Someone Might Love Them: unfortunate circumstances, of which he has many Why Someone Might Hate Them: "ROXYYYYYY LYNX STOLE MY TOOTHPICK MAKE HIM GIVE IT BACK :(” How They Change: he doesn’t really lmaoooo hes not any less stupid after hero1 or octo expansion Why You Love Them: hes the worst bastard gremlin character i have. i love making fun of him. also he interacts with my friends ocs on the daily so we get to make fun of him together

[w4ter-you-doing]

Cady, Janis, and Damian Playing Fortnite HC

It's all three of their guilty pleasures

Please don’t come for me on this one, I based this off of my friends and I playing Fortnite. It’s such a fun game when you have fun people to play with

Whenever they all can't hangout, they stay at their houses and play together

Janis spent all of Winter break teaching Cady how to play after she got a PS4 for Christmas

Cady's never really played video games before but is ecstatic when Janis offers to help her get the gist of it

Janis and Damian, however have been playing it since the game first came out.

They're both extremely good at it

Janis and Damian pooled their money together to get Cady a nice gaming headset so that they can all play together on school nights

The three of them will play for literal hours until they're all practically asleep on the mic

Cady is assigned to carry most of the meds and shields, she'll usually carry around a green tactical shotgun just in case

Every match Janis finds a really good gun to give Cady and says, "Caddy, c'mere I've got a present for you."

All of them doing crazy stupid emotes in the lobby

Damian is excellent at getting eliminations, but will occaisionally let Cady steal the kill

Janis and Damian argue about which side of the map to go on

Cady then marks Sweaty Sands because she's "never been to the beach before"

Damian and Janis used to play “Protect the President” with Cady when they first started all playing together. By all means, protect Cady at all costs from other players.

TONS of inside jokes and laughs come from them playing together

Janis is really f-ing good with a sniper. She can get a sniper elimination from literally anywhere

Cady loves SMGs. She says that she's best at "spraying and praying"

They pull together a lot more wins than you would think, and there will be times when Cady gets the last elimination

Janis also loves giving Cady rocket launchers just because she gets to blow things up

Cady's signature skin is Rippley and she calls him "Mr. Blobby"

Janis' is the black Lynx, and Damian usually just randomizes his skins

Damian usually gets off before everyone else

Then Janis and Cady play duos and have some pretty deep conversations, or they sit in the lobby and just talk

Eventually they switch to Facetime and chat until they fall asleep on the phone

[lesbian-janai]

animal jam rayla and runaan headcanons

rayla is obsessed with animal jam and would rather play it than do assassin training. this irritates runaan who, after spending an hour looking for rayla when she didn't show up to elf practice, grounds her for a week

rayla screams at this and is like "BUT RUNAAN! WHAT ABOUT MY DAILY SPIN BONUS??? WHAT IF I MISS RARE ITEM MONDAY???"

the screaming causes runaan to come up with a compromise: he'll play her stupid animal game for her while she's grounded

rayla: ok fine but you better NOT trade anything!!! if I come back and see even ONE THING missing from my inventory I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL DESTROY YOU

runaan: where is all this energy when you're training

runaan logs into rayla's account so he can get the stupid spin bonus thing, but then he gets curious and actually plays around bit (no trading though, he's a man of his word) and he actually enjoys it

runaan decides to end rayla's grounding a few days early (which she finds suspicious) and he makes his own secret animal jam account that nobody is allowed to know about

rayla notices that he's on his laptop more often than usual. she asks him what he's doing and he quickly shuts his laptop and it's all like "uhhh nothing! just doing some online shopping or something"

rayla sneaks up behind runaan and sees that he's playing animal jam. she SCREAMS which causes runaan to have a heart attack

runaan is embarrassed about playing a stupid kid's game but rayla's like "there's nothing to be embarrassed of! now we can play together!"

tinker also plays animal jam because of course he does

they're a family unit now

they go on adventures together. runaan tries to be strategic but rayla and tinker just barge in there without a care in the world. they end up dying a lot, much to runaan's annoyance

runaan buys them all memberships because he wanted to be a lynx and you can only do that as a member, but if he buys a membership he has to buy tinker and rayla memberships too because it's only fair

family bonding time is basically just the three of them sitting in the living room playing on their laptops. sometimes runaan yells at them from across the room because they keep dying in adventures

tinker likes to make masterpieces and trade them for a lot of rare items. his den is deemed the family den because it's cooler than runaan or rayla's dens

tinker's favorite alphas are peck and graham. runaan likes sir gilbert and rayla is a hard greely stan

runaan and rayla get into a heated argument over whether greely is trustworthy or not

runaan: he constantly hides his plans from the other alphas, rayla! you call that trustworthy?

rayla *holding her mouse over the "remove buddy" icon on runaan's profile*: YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

runaan: DON'T YOU DARE, RAYLA!

rayla: TRY ME

tinker, trying to hide behind his laptop: there must be a peaceful resolution to this!

runaan: I won't take it back because it's true! he's untrustworthy, rayla! and everyone knows sir gilbert is the superior alpha!

rayla: *gasps, then angrily removes runaan from her buddy list*

runaan, holding back tears: YOU'RE GROUNDED INDEFINITELY

after that they refuse to talk to each other for days

rayla: I WISH GREELY WAS MY DAD INSTEAD OF YOU

tinker is pretty much the peacemaker between the two.

they're all in the living room, runaan and rayla refusing to look at each other and tinker awkwardly trying to ignore the tension

runaan: tinker darling, would you please tell rayla that her outfit doesn't go together

rayla: tinker, can you tell runaan that I think his longbow looks stupid

tinker: hey, I got him that longbow :(

rayla: oh. in that case nevermind, it's beautiful. but that tail armor looks rediculous

runaan: *starts clicking his mouse more angrily*

tinker makes a masterpiece that says "stop fighting!!! you're making me sad :(" and he hangs it up in his den and then he invites runaan and rayla over

they feel guilty and to restore the peace they agree to disagree about the whole greely thing. to make rayla happy, runaan puts a greely statue in his den, and then rayla agrees to put a sir gilbert statue in her den

tinker makes a family portrait masterpiece and hangs it in his den

they celebrate by going to the dinner party and eating virtual cake

runaan gives rayla rare bow and arrows as a gift and she nearly cries

runaan and tinker have matching heart lockets

[embersoot]

Honesty - Cesta

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

Name:  “Cestalia Olivia Embersoot. I go by ‘Rosewood’ nowadays. People don’t get to know my house name unless they’ve proven themselves trustworthy.”

Eye Color: “Milky white, with little pockets of glittering void stuff in the irises. It’s weird. I just wear glasses to cover them up.”

Hair Style/Color: “It’s white at the moment, but I dye it every color under the rainbow. Got it styled into a side shave. I’m rather fond of it now. Lets me show off my wilder side while still being comparatively professional if need be.”

Height: “Five feet and nine inches. My sister Qory got the jackpot at six feet even. Don’t ever tell her, but I’m very jealous.” 

Clothing Style: “For one, always a pair of tinted round glasses. Don’t ever leave home with them. From there, depends on the day. If I’m mainly working on the clinic, a tunic, cravat, and sweater vest. If I’m mainly going off on my own business, leather jackets or vests with spikes on the shoulders and finger less gloves.”

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Your Fears: “Becoming weak. Becoming unable to keep someone else from being taken from me. Being overshadowed by Qory.”

Your Guilty Pleasure:  “The death races. I can’t get enough of them. I never feel more free or in control than when I’m behind the wheel of whatever contraption the sponsors have for me, and I’m dodging bullets and missiles.”

Your Biggest Pet Peeve: “When people try to muscle in and try to solve my problems unprovoked. I can deal with my own conflicts. I’ll tell you if I need help.

Your Ambition for the Future: “Learn more about what I can control. The demons, the fel, the curses. I don’t quite know where to use these gifts most effectively. I don’t know if I’d ever want to settle down. It’s just not my style. I’m going to go out in a blaze of glory, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

Your First Thoughts Waking Up: “Where the hell’s the whiskey? VOZ!”

What You Think About the Most: “My surroundings. I listen to every single sound and take in every smell and touch around me. The sensations soon take shape into things I recognize: objects, people, animals...  I’ve gotten pretty good at it after two years. I can tell people apart by the way they walk and how they smell before they even speak.”

What You Think About Before Bed: “I need to fix that damn creaking window one of these days.”

Your Best Quality Is: “My daring. I don’t give a damn about the risks. In fact, don’t even tell me the risks. Don’t tell me what to expect. Let me face each and every one of them, shove a grenade down each one’s gullet, and walk away from the explosion with the biggest shit-eating smirk ever.”

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: “Single. If I’ve got multiple people, that means I need to split my attention. That means I can’t make the other ladies fall as far for me~”

To be Loved or Respected: “Respected. It’ll suck ass that no one’ll ever truly like me, but at least I won’t get a pig sticker in the back if I look the other way.”

Beauty or Brains: “Why not both? If they’re hot, funny, lighthearted, and not uppity? Sign me up.”

Dogs or Cats: “Cats. Don’t like the barking.”

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: “Hell yes I do.”

Believe in Yourself: “Can’t do what I do without stupid confidence in yourself. Fake it till you make it. Ain’t ever heard truer words spoken in my life.” 

Believe in Love: “I... guess? Yeah. Love’s a thing in the same way grass is green.”

Want Someone: “A few, yeah. But, well, most of them just turn out with me giggling with how attractive their voices sound or admiring the way they smell. It sounds more creepy than it actually is.”

LAYER SIX: EVER?

Been on Stage: “Yes! Qory and I once tried to start a band! We came up with ‘Fel-lectric Sharkteeth.’ Played a couple bitchin’ songs, but it never took off.”

Done Drugs: “Of course, just like most anyone else living. Don’t actively seek them out. Like to keep my reflexes sharp for when I’m riding.”

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: “Not ever. Never will ever. I am what I am, and I don’t really give a shit if I fit in somewhere or not. I’m real to myself first and foremost.”

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES

Favorite Color: “Black. Was it obvious?”

Favorite Animal: “Gargoyles! Most metal shit I ever seen. Flying fuckers that puke out shadow? Hell yeah.”

Favorite Food: “Pretty much anything fried or horrendously unhealthy for me. Reminds me of the food stalls back at the flats. We had unhealthy shit like greasy pizza and hot dogs all the time, and I loved every damn second of it.”

Favorite Game: “Easy. FOOTBOMB!”

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

Day Your Next Birthday Will Be: “October Twenty-sixth.”

How Old Will You Be: “Fuck. I stopped counting. Maybe in my three-hundred and seventies?”

Age You Lost Your Virginity: “Like... Mid twenties? I think?”

Does Age Matter: “If they’re hot, I don’t really give a damn.”

LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL

Best Personality: “Laid back. Not minding a bit of danger. Maybe a bit deranged like me. Never holds me back if I want to have a bit of danger-filled fun.”

Best Eye Color: “Irrelevant. I literally give no fucks to eye color if I like a person.”

Best Hair Color: “Refer back to the eye color question.”

Best thing to do with a Partner: “What do you think?”

LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: “The feeling being in danger brings. It makes my chest soar, and I can’t help but cackle like a damn maniac.”

I feel: “Weak without my sight. But the fel has amplified the other senses. I don’t need my sight to truly see.”

I hide: “To protect Qory.”

I miss: “Everyone from the Lynxes. We’ve mostly gone our separate ways, and I feel a bit empty without them.”

I wish: “I had the power to put the fucker that took Leothys from me in the dirt permanently and wear his skull as a cod piece.”

Tagged By: No one! Just thought this’d be fun after I did it on @thornbolts

Tagging: @bigdumbchicken(any!), @glitchphil (Fnip!), @ms-winford (any!), @latildarommel,  @monster-of-master, @knownashaunt, @tilnathiel, @the-real-arcanist-val (any!), @the-soiled-dove (GET AERI UP IN HERE!), @ranekvilmas

[xcrustyshiggs]

Drunk Confession

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: shifter au, fluff, sad!jungkook words: 1716

Bunny boy decides to knock on your door at 3am in the morning to confess his feelings after getting shitfaced.

Part of my Bunny Boy Series: Drunk Confession, Lovesick Bunny Boy, Kittens and Uncle Kookie

masterlist

a/n: 1st attempt on writing something like this - had a fun time writing it  but found the editing part so difficult.

Opening your entrance door, you find a doe-eyed boy standing in front of you, with his left fist closed to your face ready to knock on the door again. When he realizes your presence in front of him, his eyes widen in an instant, seemingly surprised that you opened the door (how could you not? he has been knocking on your damn door for 3 minutes as well as simultaneously shouting your name). Upon his realization he slowly retrieves his left arm back to not, thankfully, hit you in your face.

Due to your feline genetics (you are a lynx shifter), your nose immediately starts to pick an unpleasant alcohol smell from your counterpart, making you scrunching your face.

While Jungkook is still seemingly stunned at your figure, you haven't woken up fully - too sleepy to comprehend on, what was going on now. Minutes seem to pass by with you both staring at each other in utter silence -  Jungkook in sheer shock, and you with confused and sleepy eyes.

From one second to the next, your sleep-dead brain finally decides on functioning (again). You come to realize that Jungkook has in fact – you’re definitely not dreaming –  decided to give you a surprise visit at 3 am once he profusely got himself shitfaced, because not only does he smell like it, but also does his wobbly stance give his current state away. 

With confusion written all over your face, you finally break the utter silence to ask him the real, big question (also the only one) in your mind. “Jungkook? What are you doing here?”

Awakened from his initial surprise or rather shock, the black-haired guy eventually opens his mouth to answer your question, while pointing one finger at you. “He­­y Y/N. I di––dn’t th–ink you would answer the do–or” He pauses before opening his mouth again. 

“But...  to answer your question I, I, I do­––n’t rea–lly rea––lly know, what the FUCK I’m doing here.” Hearing him slurring all his words, your previous confusion is instantly replaced by your growing concern over the usually-reserved young man. “Are you okay, Jungkook?” His immediate response to your question, is a quiet chuckle whilst he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Yo–u, you wanna know if I’m okay?” He looks at you accusingly. Unsure of your words, you decide to just nod slowly. Upon seeing your reaction Jungkook starts shaking his head, while gripping onto the wall to stabilize himself with his eyes trained on you.

“Na–––h, I’m fucking not okay. Wanna know wh––y, Y/N?” He doesn’t wait for your answer but continues babbling “Cuz I really, really, li–––ke you. But I know that you will never feel the same.” He starts chuckling - sounding more in despair- again, while bringing his gaze to the ground to avoid your gaze.

“I mean, Why would yo––u?” He brings his finger up again, to point a third time at you. “You Y/N, you are a lynx. A beautiful one.  Fu––ck, I swear the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen...” He frustratedly ruffles his raven hair before pointing his finger at himself. “And I, I am just a lousy rabbit. Yes, Jeon Jungko––ok is just a sma–––ll, wea––k rabbit.”

His sudden outburst or rather drunk confession leaves you shocked, but not for long because seeing him clutching his stomach, brings you back into reality in an instant. “Oh God, I’m going to throw up”

Instead of responding to him, you take the free hand which isn’t covering his mouth and with quick steps lead him into your bathroom.

You both make it just in time, before he promptly squats down and starts throwing up in the toilet. Seeing him in this unsual state, you feel a slight tug in your heart. In trying to sooth him a little, you bend down to rub his back. After a few minutes of him emptying his stomach, he finally stops.

While he is still keeping his head over the toilet seat in fear of another wave of puke, you stand up to prepare a towel and a cup of mouthwash for him.

As soon as you are sure that he won’t continue in heaving his guts up, you ask him if he is okay now. You see Jungkook nodding before before turning his head in your direction to look at you.

He seems to have sobered up somewhat, but now looked really tired after this ordeal. In order to lighten up the awkward mood, a stupid follow-up statement pops up in your head. “You are really handsome Jungkook, but not even your face can pull off puke. So let us wash it off? ” Even though, you instantly cringed the moment those words left your mouth, Jungkook seemed to like it. Then his face immediately breaks into a big smile - the  smile, where his whole face scrunches up, followed by a soft hum to agree on your proposal.  said those words. So you help him stand up to lead him to the sink.

After cleaning his face, you hand him a cup with a green liquid in it, telling him, it’s mouthwash. He rewards you with another grin before rinsing his mouth. After spitting out the green liquid and wiping his mouth, he turns to look at you again with a now more tired look on his face. Before he can bring anything up about leaving your apartment, you decide to offer him to stay the night.

“Jungkook, you should stay here. You are clearly to tired to go home. You can take my bed? I will take the couch and I won’t accept a No”, you tell him with a determined look.

Even in his intoxicated mind, he realizes that arguing with you would be hopeless, so he accepts your offer gladly but only under the condition of him taking the couch“Thank You, Y/N. But please let me take the couch. I feel already bad for ruining your night”

To tired, to decline his proposal, you just nod. “Mhm, if that’s what you want. But let me get you some clothes to change first. Jimin has some spare clothes here for our weekly Netflix nights.  Make yourself comfortable on the couch, while I get them.” He gives you a small smile before strolling into the living room, while you leave to get some clothes of your best friend. 

After giving him Jimin’s clothes and setting up some pillows and a blanked for him on the couch, you sit yourself on the couch. While waiting for him, you try to comprehend what has happened in the last hour:

Not only did Jungkook decide to give you a drunk surprise visit at 3am in the morning but also did he confess his harbouring feelings for you. Realization that the attractive bunny shifter has a thing for you hasn’t hit you until now.

You are still astonished that Jeon Jungkook likes you because he has always seemed trying to avoid you like the plague since the moment Jimin has introduced you both to each other. Of course, you tried talking to him on several occasions (because you yourself was infatuated with “bunny boy”), but his answers were usually cut short. In the end, you gave up trying to get closer to him and just decided on having a secret crush on him.

But following this night, you are curious as why he has never tried acting on his feelings. Before you can dive further into your thoughts, on what the reasons behind Jungkook’s past behavior towards you are, you hear the sound of the bathroom door, which immediately takes you back into reality. 

Even with a plain white t-shirt, grey (slightly too tight) sweatpants and after nearly puking his soul out of his body Jungkook manages to still look fine as fuck. What the fuck? How is that possible?! Wait, what the fuck am I thinking? Go away, filthy thoughts.

To clear your mind, you shake your head thoroughly.

When you look up, you see Jungkook giving you a concerned look, while coming your way. “You okay, Y/N?” Trying to cover up your tardiness, you say “Yes, hehe. I was just trying to not fall asleep”.Satisfied with your answer, he plops himself down next to you onto the couch.

Once he turns his head to face you, you see him nervously biting his lips.“I, I just want to thank you again for everything. Lending me some clothes also letting me stay here.” He pauses to think about what to say next. “And I’m so, so sorry for ruining your night.” Seeing the sincerity of his apology in his you, cant seem to get mad at him for ruining your sleep. “Jungkook, it’s fine. I would have woken up on my own to go pee. You should know 3am is my peeing hour.” you say make the situation less awkward.

After hearing your response, he chuckles but you can see in his eyes that he vigorously tries to stay awake. Therefore, you slowly stand up, while simultaneously getting him into lay down by pushing his softly onto the couch. “Let’s go to sleep now. We are both clearly tired. But, if you really feel guilty about waking me up, you can buy me lunch next week” He accepts your offer with a soft hum and a quiet “good night, y/n”, while letting you tuck him in. Before you turn around to head into your bedroom, you feel him grabbing your right hand and whispering

“Y/N, I really meant it when I said that I fell in love with you” and then you hear soft snores. Seeing a smile plastered on his face, you bend down kiss him on his forehead. “Good night, Jungkook”.

[directionlessbuthappy]

Pagan (Epilogue)

Surprise! pandainfinitely mentioned to me a while ago that it would’ve been cool to see some reactions to Ivar surviving in my last part of Pagan. So I made that sprinkled in with a special moment. Cheers! xo

Warnings: blood, graphic depiction of piercings, intimacy/fluff at the end <3

Droplets of rain leak through a small crack in the roof of the Great Hall. It'll be patched up before nightfall. You stir what appears to be cloudy, milky water over the hearthfire, grinning while you replay the morning of his return.

You'd traveled back to Kattegat without Ivar. Tradition stated only when a man returns to the village with his kill is he able to claim adulthood. Perhaps, though, tradition was already broken. You had already considered what you'd done; it made you smile. The gods wanted it to happen the way it did. Whether Ivar was tracking the beast, or whether you'd attracted the beast near and Ivar found you, it did not matter. It did not matter how strong he was or if his strength he needed to kill the lynx was wrought from the sight of you nearing your death... What mattered is the gods had saved him. The totems had let him live. Long ago when you left home, you knew you'd never be welcome back. Becoming an outsider meant death. So the judgement you feared could come from nowhere so long as you never went home. You savored that idea...being the first of your people ever to leave the sanctuary of home. Being the first to bring your customs to a foreign land, a strange world. Convincing a warrior to bear the mark of your people through his stubborn will, through your teachings...who were you to be shamed for sharing the gods' wild spirits?

When you returned, storming through the Great Hall, Ubbe and Hvitserk were waiting. They refused to speak to you as you went to Ivar's room. The queen was conveniently not present for your return. You didn’t mind, moreso, you wanted to rest. But your things were gone. 

"Ubbe!" you shrieked, trudging back to the main hall. "Where are my things? What did you do?"

"We assumed you would be leaving," he spit at you, crossing his legs on the table. "Perhaps you fled when you realized my brother was dead."

Your nostrils flared; you wouldn't tell him. Not yet. Not until you wanted him to choke on his words.

"I do not run."

Ubbe rolled his eyes. Hvitserk finally spoke up. 

"Did you at least find him?"

You snorted at him, refusing to answer as you sat down. 

"Haven't you asked a seer?" 

Ubbe frowns at you. "This is a game to you, isn't it? Funny that you've sent our baby brother to die? Did you spend too much time in his bed and think you had to rid yourself of him?"

You rolled up the sleeve of your concealed arm, showing Hvitserk the black ink twirling around your forearm. A viper with a diamond shaped head opened its jaws to your hand.

"What is that?" Ubbe asked cautiously.

"Hel." 

The brothers both glance at your arm. Maybe its just them, but that snake looks like its coiling tighter and tighter into itself. Like its waiting to strike. 

"She has showed me how I die. And it is not by you, or your brothers, Ubbe." You shoved your sleeve down, casting Hvitserk a glance while he sat back in disappointment. "Stop asking me dumb questions and act like you believe in your little brother, for once."

"Is that another one of your strange traditions?" Hvitserk asked. He wasn't an interested in an argument like Ubbe was. He never was; he was simpler than that. More kind too.

"Yes," you answered simply. Hvitserk smiled slightly, unsettled by your tattoo that was now concealed. For a second, he kind of understood why you kept that arm covered. It was the same reason people turn away statues at night...their stares can be...

The door to the Great Hall banged against the wall. In came Ivar, dragging a lump of fur that trailed blood across the wooden boards. Ubbe and Hvitserk didn't jump up right away; they were more in shock than they were happy. "Did you think I would come back empty handed?" Ivar mocked them. He knew what they thought...

"Ivar!" Hvitserk cheered. Aslaug emerged from her bedroom with wide eyes. She glared at you for a moment but she didn't care much to look at you; it was her son she was more enthralled with. She embraced him quickly, helping him into his chair. 

"The gods have protected you," Aslaug sobbed.

"The gods, the wild...they all favor me, mother. You know this."

Aslaug stopped crying a moment to give a guilty expression. She hadn't believed in her son's return; Ivar knew this too. At least she had the sense to look grateful for his return, and had the sense to be sober for it. Hvitserk gave Ivar a loving headlock. He was proud of his little brother. He had his own doubts, but he was simply glad Ivar was home again.

"You did that?" Ubbe asked, gesturing to the body of the lynx. You had a feeling Ubbe was looking at you; there was a burning sensation along the back of your neck.

"It wasn't the birds or the butterflies, Ubbe. Of course I did. What kind of stupid question is that?”

You snapped out of it and took the iron pot off the fire. Taking a bit of cloth, you gently poured the water through it. The cloth caught the bones you were boiling. Taking a piece of still very hot bone piece, you brought it to your grindstone and swiped it across. It only took a few goes before you set the bone in a pot of cold, slushy water. The material hardened under your fingerpads, the water so cold you were surprised you could still feel it. After the bone chilled, you pulled it out and took it to the soft light, checking for any holes with the firelight to help. No holes. A good needle.

With a deep sigh, you set the needle it your row. This was the last one. You took the row of four you'd made and let them dry, glancing up at Ivar in his chair. He sat in his father's seat whenever his mother wasn't around. The idea of looking through his father's eyes to see what he once saw filled him with pride and stroked his ego.

"You know, if you scream, your brothers will wake up."

"Isn't that usually what I tell you?" Ivar asked in return. You blushed, chuckling under your breath while you took the boiling water over to cool in a clean basin.

"What about your mother?"

"She is my mother. If I tell her to go to bed, she will."

You sighed. Things were very simple in Ivar's head.

"...would you want me to listen that way if I stayed here? In Kattegat, I mean."

Ivar had his elbow rested on the chair, rolling his tongue along his bottom lip. He shrugged, gesturing to your standing figure. The fire roared to the side of you. "Where else would you go little shieldmaiden?"

He grinned at you, lifting his chin slightly. Proudly. You walked over to him and his set his arms down flat against the chair. You could see the nervous look in his eye, hidden behind his blank someone annoyed expression he wore often. Pulling out the needles and the water basin, you climbed into his lap with your supplies on the table to the side. You ran your fingertips across his chest. It was smooth, far from flat...he growled at your initial touch, but softened as your hands traveled across his skin.

"You won't scream?" you ask. He smirked a bit, less cocky now but still pleasantly confident as far as you could see. He gave you a kiss on the forehead and sat back. You sighed, glancing at the rag you'd retrieved just in case...but you believed him. You cleaned his nipples with the boiled water from the basin; it was cool now, but not cold. Still, the air around you was cold enough to keep them perky. You chuckled a bit, teasing him.

"Don't be afraid."

"I am not," he replied angrily. You took your needle and your small metal you'd had fashioned for this; it was an interesting exchange with the native blacksmith here in Kattegat. But with enough gold he didn't ask. You held the needle close to his skin, holding your hand on both sides of his breastbones.

"Ready?"

With a grunted response, you took that as a yes and slid the bone through. Ivar jolted in his seat, gripping his chair so hard you could hear it creak. A groan from the back of his throat made you swallow painfully. You left the bone in and brought the metal close, piercing the fresh hole with the metal ring and gliding out your bone needle. The opening to the ring was small enough that the piercings wouldn't come out easily, but he'd still have to be careful. Ivar didn't jump for the placement of the metal, but he still held tight. You pierced the right one shortly after; this one bled a little, but you cleaned it up quickly. Ivar didn't flinch for the second one. He made hardly a move, but his hands still grew white along the knuckles. When they were finally placed and cleaned up, you gave his shoulders a light massage, letting his grip on the chair release. 

"Relax, Ivar..."

He sighed with a loud growl. Coming to peace with pain was not difficult for him. You gave him a kiss once he finally hugged your hips in his hands. The slits in your dress showed off your thighs that lay to the sides of him; the space above your knee to your hip was covered in the portrait of a wolverine, blood covering its viscous muzzle. The Wolverine was the totem of Thor, a guardian and a great warrior comparable to the fighting spirit of such an relentless creature. Ivar never told you, but this one was his favorite... He ran a thumb across the teeth of the beast, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

"Tell me about the Wolverine."

[ttransthirteen]

okay here we go! for sol: 8, 35, 19; for hernandez: 45, 5, 13; for jericho: 3,17, 24; for nikola: 40, 43, 50; for nix, 9, 22, 29, for scott: 3, 36, 27; for hero: 34, 18, 6; for lynx: 10, 26, 44!! sorry if that's too many!!

anon i have no idea how you know all these characters enough to send me specific ones for their names, but i want you to know this is the best thing that has happened to me in weeks and you are the absolute light of my life. if you believe in a higher power i wish you blessings and happiness for years to come. 

here we go!! (also this is so long im sorry, I tried to sort them if anybody is actually curious about any of them)

Sol- 

8. did they have pets as a child? as an adult? do they like animals?

Dani Solis, or just Sol to her coworkers, is a mechanic who never quite understood living things. she grew up in outer space and never really had the opportunity to have a pet, although the constant traveling meant she got to see a ridiculous variety of life. When she was a little girl, she would sometimes find a cockroach or other bug on the ship and catch it, keeping it and feeding it until it died. it was never a very satisfying experience, probably adding to her obsession with immortal machines. 

35. whats their guilty pleasure? what is their totally unguilty pleasure?

I’d call Eric her guilty pleasure. they would have ended up together if I hadn’t killed him off mid-breakdown. Most people live on a planet, but she doesn’t have one, so to her any sort of truly meaningful human connection is dangerous and off-limits. but she loves him deeply, although it scares her. Unguilty, I’d say shes kind of a hoarder. her bunk is full of knick-knacks from every corner of the explored universe. she spends pretty much her entire salary on it tbh

19. whats their least favorite genres? 

if this is about literature, she thinks fantasy is stupid. if it’s music, she loves rap and techno but has never really been able to tolerate slow guitar pieces about how beautiful planet life is. think space-age country. 

Hernandez-

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

this is a big one for him. Captain Eric Hernandez is a trans man, so for a lot of his life yeah there was a massive difference. but after he transitioned, I would say the main difference would be that the people around him see him as cold, kind of scary. he’s not scary, he’s scared. he sees himself as small and weak, even after he straight up murdered his abuser and took his place as captain. His friends would say he is the strongest, bravest man they’ve ever known. They would be right.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

He has two sisters and two brothers, I don’t know any of their names. He was very close with all of them and misses them every day. Since he ran away to avoid having to pretend to be a woman his whole life, and then murdered a guy, contacting any of them would have been massively dangerous. He couldn’t even tell any of them he was leaving because he wasn’t out to them. In the version of his story where he’s executed, they all get letters from Sol explaining everything. In the version where he lives, he sends the letters himself.

13. What is their least favorite food?

fish was never available to him as a kid, and he never acquired the taste. 

Jericho-

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? 

this isnt something i get to say about my ocs a lot, but he did. he had a lovely childhood. he grew up with a loving father in a huge, beautiful city where he was free to explore and learn to his hearts content. he has especially fond memories of wandering around the actual ground of the city where basically nobody ever goes, looking at bugs and mold and plants with his little junior scientist magnifying glass, looking them up on his computer-band. the worst ones were probably nights where his dad had to work and he was lonely in their apartment, bc those were the nights he wondered about his mom. 

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

He’ll take photographs of cool specimen, but mostly he carries a journal and prefers to take notes. he takes notes on absolutely everything and has boxes and boxes of old notebooks in his closet at home. 

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

my boy jericho has very little trouble sleeping and is fine with the govt issues firm mattress. he is quiet and still and sleeps deeply. 

Ok! switching universes! these characters are completely disconnected from those three.

Nikola Tchaikova- 

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

I’m not sure she’s ever even tried it. Nikola is a full blown alcoholic and anything that makes her feel more alert is probably not something she’s gonna enjoy. Her natural senses and awareness are absolutely through the roof, so it’s not something she really needs at all. She does like sweets though. Back when she had her family, her and her close companions use to sneak away sometimes and go out to the city for milkshakes and music, and those are probably her fondest memories. 

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

When she was a very young girl she might have worshipped the christian/jewish/muslim god, or at least attempted to. For a young shifter where she grew up, life was rough, and she would have had a hard time finding the meaning in it all. but later in life, after the war, the major religion worshipped shifters and obviously that was ridiculous to her, so she kind of looks down on the whole thing. She might still be a little envious of the purpose and comfort that the worshippers get and that is missing so much from her life, but one of the main gods in their pantheon is based on her kid brother’s best friend. its hard to take that seriously. (the idea is that there were 5 original all powerful shifters who made the real world ones. this is wrong. shifters were a science experiment gotten out of control, and Nikola knows that.)

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

She would pack her knife, which her long dead brother gave her about 1500 years ago. she would take the pendant she wears, which was symbolic of the leadership position she used to hold before the people she was leading were all killed. She has a photo collection that she says never looks at out of fear of the light ruining them. Her best friend made her some copies, but she doesn’t look at those either. I think it hurts her to see the faces of the people she misses. She has a small bag of things tucked into the back of her closet that she never, ever touches or looks at. After the massacre that took her family, Angelo (the only survivor, her best friend) went through the carnage and collected the possessions of their friends. Nikola helped him bury them, but she couldn’t stand to take their things. he gave them to her afterwards, and she’s only every managed to take them out and look at them when she’s so drunk she knows she won’t remember the next day. But she would never leave them behind.

Nix- 

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

Domenico “Nix” Tchaikova is Nikola’s son, so half-shifter. Shifters are, by necessity, a bit closer to nature than the rest of us, and even though he has almost no actual form changing abilities animals have always seemed to like him a bit more than his friends. He’s always assumed that it’s because of his prosthetic leg, that they realize he couldn’t chase them if he wanted to, but animals know things, and they can sense that he’s not quite the same as the other humans. 

22. What are their favorite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

Nix would never insult someone behind their back- he has a temper, and if you piss him off he’s gonna confront you on the spot. His insults tend not to be physical. he might call you ugly if hes real mad, but hes much more likely to call you a coward or an idiot. He gets hit a lot for this. 

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective? 

No, he’d never tease someone for being genuinely afraid. He knows fear too well to try and use it against people. If somebody he cared about was afraid of something, he would plant his tiny self between them and whatever it was no matter what. hes used to being seen as small and weak and incapable, and its resulted in a stupidly brave boy who gets himself into trouble a lot because he doesnt know when to back down.

Scott-

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? 

My boy!!! This is another one of Nikola’s children, one of the triplets. if you just read her thing, you can probably guess that she wouldn’t be a very good mother. Angelo, his father, was always loving and supportive, but both of his parents were just sad people who weren’t really prepared to raise three children. They grew up in the century before the war broke out, in a political climate that feared and hated them, among countless news stories of people like them being murdered and hunted. but Nikola still managed to give them a reasonably normal childhood. She found a place to settle down, near enough to a city that they could socialize and explore but far enough away they they grew up in the woods and could explore their natural abilities without being hunted down by hate groups. 

He has a lot of good memories! pretty much all of them are him doing dumb shit with his siblings. they used to use their shifting to break into concerts or fly up to the roofs of tall buildings. 

As for bad ones. definitely most of his bad memories are on Nikola’s head. He was the shifter equivalent of about eight years old when he saw her kill somebody for the first time. she didn’t know he was there, but im not sure if knowing would have changed anything. she’s been on a very long, very complicated vengeance quest since before he was born. She had tracked somebody down, and he watched while she slowly cornered him. You could practically smell the terror coming off the man as she drew her blade, moving towards him as she spoke. He had never heard her talk about the deaths of her family before, and as she told her prey all about how she had come home to find her kid brother on the floor with his throat slit open, there was something in her voice that he would never forget for the rest of his life. then he watched his mother put a knife through the bottom of the man’s jaw into his brain. he saw the light go out of his eyes, and he saw the absolute emptiness in his mother’s when she turned around. He ran as fast as he could back to his siblings and cried, but never told them what he saw. 

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

He can sing!!! he has a voice like an angel and he loves to use it. he plays about twenty instruments- hes had a long time to learn- and he always carries at least one on him. he can use weaponry and is good at it, but doesnt enjoy it. 

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

He doesn’t cry often. He doesn’t care if his siblings see him cry- theyre all so close its like crying in private- but with other people he doesnt like it. He just gets quiet when he’s sad. He’s not the moodiest of his siblings(that title goes to Lynx) but they all inherited something from their parents that makes them quiet, serious people on the whole. He feels deeply and thinks about things. Hes bisexual. I know that doesn’t go here but its important. He cried after he slept with a man for the first time, not because he was upset with himself about the gay thing but because he’d let himself fall for a human. The boy’s name was Jacob, and he didn’t understand but tried to comfort him anyways because he cared about Scott. They dated for a while, but Scott couldn’t handle knowing he would age and die so quickly and broke it off. Jacob was 43 when he was killed in a bombing during the war. Funerals had stopped happening at that time, people unable to keep up with all the dead. But there were still graves, and Scott visited Jacob’s for years afterwards. 

Hero-

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

She looks a lot like her mom. about 5′7, muscular, strong features. She got her dads eyes though, the only one of her siblings to have them. Scott and Lynx and Nix all have Nikki’s distinctive golden-ringed brown. She likes her body fine, its a good and strong body. she likes that shes not the shortest of her siblings(lynx is tied and nix is smaller) but other than that she doesnt really care. 

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

She was never much of a reader, and the only tv she ever got to see was when there was one on in a restaurant. She did enjoy films though, and her favorites were action. She got a certain something from Nikola that neither Scott or Lynx has, something kind of cold and fierce. Whatever it was that Scott saw in his mom’s eyes when she killed that man, exists in Hero too. Nix too, but less so. She would have liked video games a lot if she’d ever had the chance to really get into them.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

She never went to school. Her father taught her to read and write, as well as everything he thought she needed to know about the world. She spent her childhood wandering with her siblings, and most things she needed to know she got from that. All three of them had been planning on going to college, but the war came before they got the chance. But I think if she’d gotten the chance she would have had an interest in something technical. Engineering or architecture maybe. 

Lynx-

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

God I love Lynx. He would never, ever become a parent, but I think he would be a good one. Out of all of her children, Lynx inherited the most of Nikola’s sadness. In non dramatic terms she gave him her tendencies towards mental illness and its something hes struggled with his whole life. His siblings are a wonderful support system but he knows that any child of his would struggle like he has, and he has so many unhappy memories of Nikola’s misery that he would be too afraid. But children do like him, and he likes them. He’s a fun, playful person when he’s feeling good, and is absolutely delighted to discover he has a little brother. obviously hes got the same terror of losing him, but he has pushed those feelings tf down. he just wants to enjoy their relationship while he can. hes a wonderful, sweet, caring boy whos full of love and good times, but too scared of himself to ever be a parent.

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions? 

When he’s happy, everybody knows it. He is an absolute delight. he does dance, actually. when hes happy he does it more but also its just a thing hes good at and loves to do. humans who see it know theres something not quite natural about the way he moves, and hes beautiful to watch when hes using it to express joy. He has bright eyes and a smile that makes you feel like you are safe and loved and that everything in the entire world is gonna be ok. 

44. What is their favorite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most? 

He loves any time of the year where it’s warm enough to wear skirts and loose, light shirts. The wintertime makes his depression worse, and a lot of years he and his siblings will head south to avoid it. but he loves warm breezes and cool nights by a fire, loves seeing the flowers in the spring and all the new baby animals. he isn’t at all a complainer, but when the weather is affecting him badly it’s easy to tell. he gets quiet, which is not something he is a lot. 

[resurrectionofdawn]

Story Outline

Selaistrae in abandoned barn recording troop movements of both sides that she’s seen

Spots small party heading to barn

Shoves her things into her backpack, buries it in the straw

Shifts to a cat and hides in the straw

Commandos come in, exhausted after destroying nearby base and getting through some soldiers

Everyone flops into the straw after watches are assigned

Steve goes to sit down for a while as Bucky bullied him into taking a later watch

Sits on Selaistrae, both scream.

Gets scratched and bitten, Commandos laughing

Steve’s hands and leg are bloody

“Did you see the size of that cat?” Jones asks “Must have weighed forty pounds at least.”

“Sure it was a cat and not a small lion?” Steve mutters, Bucky is cleaning out his wounds.

Dum-dum “Wasn’t a lynx, the damn thing was calico what I could see of it. Fast too.”

Steve flops back into the straw amid heckling from the Commandos, shifts, looks confused.

Bucky concerned “Steve?”

Steve rolls over, digs in the straw, pulls out an unfamiliar style of a large tan backpack. “The hell?”

“Oooh,” Barnes claps his hands together, “Must be our lucky day.”

“Doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen the Krauts or Hydra with,” Dum-dum says.  

Dernier concurs in French, tells them to open it.

“God I hope there’s not another cat in here,” prays Steve, opens the first pocket

Heaven wafts out

“I’m dead Stevie, ‘m dead and gone ‘cause that ain’t what I think it is,” Barnes sounds reverent.

It’s a large waxed canvas bag of ground coffee. About 3 lbs.

The others about pounce on Steve who yanks the pack away from the eager hands.

Coffee is passed around, the others taking deep sniffs and sometimes crossing themselves.

Bucky is eager “What else is in there?” Makes grabby hands.

Steve shoots him a look but digs into the pack again.

A brilliant red silky peasant blouse and a scandalously short red dress in the same silky material.

Wolf whistles from the guys, couple claps on Steve’s back as they intimate those could be a gift for Peggy.

10 rolled pairs of good socks which are distributed.

Supple dark grey leather gloves, 8 pairs fits everyone

Two finely crafted black-bladed daggers, Bucky examines one.

Guys becoming concerned. This person was prepared for combat.

Mess-kit not made of tin or aluminum, take to Howard for analysis

Small mostly blank book with coordinates inside, guys getting worried

Dark grey blanket, good quality and about queen-size. Folds very small

Lighter, map and compass, strong cord, a bag of what looks like granola.

“This makes no sense,” Bucky says, “Who the hell was here?”

“Maybe there is more?” Dernier asks

Guys scramble off the straw and dig around, find a leather messenger bag with an antique telescope, 11 gold coins from Switzerland, another blank book and medium-sized lightweight armored vest in navy leather.

“Looks like leather but there are flexible plates sewn in,” Bucky remarks, poking at it.  

Pulls off his blue coat, slips it on, tries it out.  Puts his coat back on and moves around

“Can barely feel it, the hell is this stuff?” Looks at Steve, excited/sweet voice “Can I keep it, huh?”

Sewing kit, a package of what could be replacement plates for the vest.

A large piece of navy leather for repairs or making another vest.

Thermos with cold tea inside. Tea tin, half-full. A Large scentless chunk of soap looks handmade.  Four quality drawing pencils in a metal case, various weights, all sharp. Signal mirror, two 10-inch bars of dark chocolate each about an inch thick. Very fine Belgian chocolate

Two sketches of terrain with coordinates and pointing arrows.

“Who carries around pictures of their hideouts?” Steve says “This whole thing is nuts.”  

Looks at the guys, sorta guilty/sly “Think maybe the chocolate is poisoned?”

Bucky shrugs “Don’t think so; this stuff is too random. Looks sort of like whoever they were grabbed what they could and ran.”

Wrapped in cloth in a small red wood box are two pieces of jewelry.

A brooch with what could be a diamond larger than a quarter set in platinum shaped like a laurel wreath with several smaller diamonds and a much larger one dangling below it.

Morita whistled “Damn that’s a beauty. What do you reckon it’s worth?”

“No idea, a lot.”

Necklace platinum, diamonds, and sapphires

Jones speaks up “This is gonna sound stupid,” he says “But we’ve seen some pretty strange things, right?”

“Your point?” Bucky scoffs

“Maybe it’s not such a stretch that the cat, wasn’t a cat?”

Steve stuffs the items back in the pack “Whatever or whoever that was, some of this looks like they were spying on someone, maybe our boys.  We’ve got to get this back to HQ and see where it leads.”

Bucky asks “We get to keep the coffee, right Steve?”

[danieledorazi]

Subcultures (Remix) / The Nu Lad

Never been a big fan of labels and names, myself, but whatever you want to call it, this is coming back - beer, football, rock ‘n’ roll. Bring it on.

Of course this is another take / remix on the post-new-mod, Britpop-head, post-casual thing of the 90s, which goes way back to 50s, innit.

(Liam fookin’ Gallagher)

From GQ: Meet the Nu Lad - ‘For me, it’s a reactionary trend, one that pushes against both the politics and culture of our time. One which reclaims a sense of identity that’s perhaps being eroded from the British male psyche in the face of joblessness, depression and a general sense that being into drinking and football and going out is somehow stupid or wrong, and that you should feel guilty for your masculine manners and desires. It’s a long way from the abhorrent Men’s Rights movement, but it’s certainly a way of trying to have the kind of time you want to have without being made to feel guilty about it.

When you throw in worrying statistics like the staggeringly high unemployment rates of young men in the UK, the fact that drug and drink problems are rising and suicide is now the biggest killer of young men, then it’s easy to see that Nu Lad, for all its inherent childishness, is perhaps a way of reverting back to a time when things were just that little bit easier for us.A time when young men could be young men; a time that was maybe a little freer and a bit more forgiving than now.

It’s also a reaction in aesthetic terms, an aloof "no thanks" to the idea that being a man in 2016 is about not only growing a beard, but also putting oil in it. A flagrant preference for cold pints of watery lager over small cans of American ale; a choice of light, breathable nylon and polyester rather than stiff selvedge denim; a short, sharp spray of Lynx Africa in the face of artisan hipster culture. It’s a defiantly British, confident, youthful take on masculinity which is almost totally at odds with the growing beards, tats ’n’ pulled pork aesthetic you’ll find in London’s Old Street, Manchester’s Northern Quarter and Liverpool’s Baltic Triangle.

The whole conflict calls to mind Liam Gallagher’s infamous quote about the grunge bands that preceded Oasis’s arrival on the scene: "Americans want grungy people stabbing themselves in the head onstage. They get a bright bunch like us, with deodorant on, they don’t get it". And that’s what Nu Lad is: "bright lads with deodorant on", 20-something metropolitans.’

(The Green Soccer Journal)

[voxxdei]

i’m having thoughts again

wondering what it’d feel like if i just let myself get hit by that motorcycle from earlier, or that car, or if this bunk bed gives in and crushes me to death

i’m awake but i feel like i’m not, i’d just caught myself thinking of an intruder barging in to my room and shooting me in the head, my brain matter painting the wall. i didn’t flinch at the thought, i just thought at this point, that’s probably a good idea and i wish that would really happen

not that it wouldn’t be too far from reality, i live in a shitty place to begin with. except. maybe, i guess? people don’t usually go with guns here.

but anyways

i don’t know 

i’m just

tired

and angry

that i’m still being manipulated like this, controlled like this

and what happened today is pulling me back to that state again where i just

feel like i’m better off dead

i’m really angry at my mom, i’m angry at myself that i for once didn’t become her bitch-- at least around the second half of the day-- but i felt guilty. for ignoring her, when she’d forced me out of the house to throw away my cats behind my back, and embarrassed her in public by not acknowledging her when she yelled at me

it was... it felt like i was high? i was happy when i left her there and went somewhere else to cool off? but i was also paranoid that she’d followed me and humiliated me in public, i didn’t get to stay out longer than i wanted in the end. but it fetl.. nice

and then i came back and everything i love was gone, they didn’t even clear out the room. they left my cats’ litter box, their bowls. but the cats are gone. an d it upsets me thinking about it again

i’m still kind of ... expecting lynx to walk around, meowing and asking for attention, or kuro-chan to rub around my leg or just nap in the corner of my bed, or muffin and bean jumping around....silver hasn’t been here that long but i miss him too, he had just started getting close to me. i already miss feeling his warmth on my stomach when he’d jump in for a nap

all i have left righ now is a huge jar of cat food that i will just probably feed to the strays and bowls and boxes i will probably never use anymore

and it upsets me

kinda makes me want to just...not get better

my mom only wanted them gone because of a ‘premonition’ she got from some stranger in the streets of singapore, she was adamant on it to the point that she’d threaten not to get me the surgery i need asap

and honestly i don’t care, like... i don’t care about the surgery anymore. i’d rather just. die?

but it’s too late now, my cats are gone

maybe still not too late with the dying thing

wouldn’t it be so wonderful if i’d just die right now and made my mom feel stupid for even believing in a shitty supernatural thing? 

she wanted my cats gone because that stranger said they were giving her bad luck and even tried to cnnvince me to throw them away because taht stranger also told her i would die if we didn’t throw them away. what a load of bullshit. if anything, it’s her that’s going to kill me

i’m so angry. so fucking angry.

if i had enough money and an actual nice-paying job that treats me well, i would honestly bolt out of here and never look back

but it’s so difficult to live alone, so expensive, it’s actually much cheaper to die

[mrrankin]

is it not ridiculous to keep affirming that men like Socrates and Plato are involved in vice no less vicious than that of any slave you please, that they are just as foolish and intemperate and unjust, and at the same time to stigmatise the alloyed and imprecise virtue of animals as absence of reason rather than as its imperfection or weakness? And this, though they acknowledge that vice is a fault of reason and that all animals are infected with vice: many, in fact, we observe to be guilty of cowardice and intemperance, injustice and malice. He, then, who holds that what is not fitted by nature to receive the perfection of reason does not even receive any reason at all is, in the first place, no better than one who asserts that apes are not naturally ugly or tortoises naturally slow for the reason that they are not capable of possessing beauty or speed. In the second place, he fails to observe the distinction which is right before his eyes: mere reason is implanted by nature, but real and perfect reason is the product of care and education. And this is why every living creature has the faculty of reasoning; but if what they seek is true reason and wisdom, not even man may be said to possess it. For as one capacity for seeing or flying differs from another (hawks and cicadas do not see alike, nor do eagle's and partridges fly alike), so also not every reasoning creature has in the same way a mental dexterity or acumen that has attained perfection. For just as there are many examples in animals of social instincts and bravery and ingenuity in ways and means and in domestic arrangements, so, on the other hand, there are many examples of the opposite: injustice, cowardliness, stupidity. And the very factor which brought about our young men's contest to‑day provides confirmation. It is on an assumption of difference that the two sides assert, one that land animals, the other that sea animals, are naturally more advanced toward virtue. This is clear also if you contrast hippopotamuses with storks: the latter support their fathers, while the former kill them in order to consort with their mothers. The same is true if you compare doves with partridges; for the partridge cock steals the eggs and destroys them since the female will not consort with him while she is sitting, whereas male doves assume a part in the care of the nest, taking turns at keeping the eggs warm and being themselves the first to feed the fledglings; and if the female happens to be away for too long a time, the male strikes her with his beak and drives her back to her eggs or squabs. And while Antipater was reproaching asses and sheep for their neglect of cleanliness, I don't know how he happened to overlook lynxes and swallows; for lynxes dispose of their excrement by concealing and doing away with it, while swallows teach their nestlings to turn tail and void themselves outward. Why, moreover, do we not say that one tree is less intelligent than another, as a sheep is by comparison with a dog; or one vegetable more cowardly than another, as a stag is by comparison with a lion? Is the reason not that, just as it is impossible to call one immovable object slower than another, so among all creatures to whom Nature has not given the faculty of understanding, we cannot say that one is more cowardly or more slothful or more intemperate? Whereas it is the presence of understanding, of one kind in one animal, of another kind in another, and in varying degree, that has produced the observable differences