#a fumble in the dark ref

[badlyblurry]

Guess what I bought, played, and got obsessed with in like two days.

Sticky note close-ups under cut

[littlerequiem]

the hitchhiker's guide to isekai ˚⁎⁺ levi x gn!reader

CONTENT — Levi getting isekai'd into our world, (questionable) humor, slice of life, swearing, Levi is a boomer when it comes to technology, pop culture refs, suggestive, mentions of bondage (wc: 1.1k words). Written for Day 3 - Isekai, Levi Month 2024 - @levievent

For as long as you could remember, Levi Ackerman had always been your favorite fictional character. There was something about his strength, his empathy, and his kindness that drew you to him.

Then, one day, the universe delivered him on a silver platter.

It was midsummer night when you found him. There he was, lying in your new antique wardrobe, groggy and half asleep, dark hair tousled to the side. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing; was this really your favorite anime character, in the flesh?

Before you could think on the logistics of it all, however, Levi was already reaching for the small knife tucked in his boot.

And threatening you with it.

It all happened in a flash.

With your heart drumming in your chest, you remember fumbling for words, looking straight into those sharp, silver eyes you’d always imagined must shine like starlight (and gods, they truly did).

Looking back, your first words lacked a certain decorum. “Wh—who—is this some kind of skit, huh? Are you some kind of pervert?!?”

Levi looked at you then like you were a complete idiot.

As it turned out, Levi was not, in fact, a pervert, nor did he mean to end up here in the first place.

Instead, he told you the hard facts: that he was Levi Ackerman, Captain of the Survey Corps. That he owned the same closet in his office, only in his own world. That the last thing he remembers was falling asleep in this piece of furniture, an attempt to hide from Hange who’d been up in arms trying to convince him to help with an experiment.

Your reality, it seemed, was connected to the Attack on Titan universe through a mysterious wardrobe.

(Like fucking Narnia.)

It was then that it was decided that he would stay with you until he found a way home.

A month has passed since this first moment, and to say that your daily life has been altered would be an understatement. You’re living with one of your personal heroes, after all—not that you let him know you view him as such.

Levi is trying to get back to his world, and in the meantime, Levi gets to discover your world: the joys of washing machines, the taste of matcha tea, the ease of hoovers, rock music.

And today, he’s uncovering the mystery that is the internet.

“I don’t understand,” Levi grumbles, his voice rough like sandpaper. Lines of tension form across his pale forehead, his gaze fixed on your laptop propped on the kitchen table. “People spend their time looking at cat... paintings?”

He’s perusing your blog.

“These are actually photographs that you’re looking at, but I suppose people also love drawings of cats. Cats are a very popular topic, see,” you explain, coming closer as you stop him from clicking on a sketchy looking pop up: ‘Free iPhone 15! Claim Yours Now’.

Levi's charged gaze follows as he watches you go about it; you have the thought he smells nice, like fresh linen and tea.

You clear your throat, withdrawing from his personal space. “Um... anyway, that’s not all you can do with the internet. People use it for all sorts of things: you can look up the news, the weather, forums…”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair. “What’s that? Sounds like a disease.”

Ah, where to start...

“Forums are online spaces where people can discuss things. You can host debates, provide instructions, and more. Personally, I use them to gush about things I love. Like books!”

Levi clicks his tongue. “So, a bookclub?”

“Mm, yes, and no. Like sure, on the forum I'm a mod for, I love to discuss the plot, the characters, and the writing, but I also just enjoy goofing around with my friends and sharing memes.”

“Me...mes.” Levi looks puzzled by this word.

You stifle a snort. “Memes are like... jokes. Only sometimes, they're also cultural staples.” At his skeptical expression, you shrug. “I guess this world is different from yours, in that respect. We have... less immediate dangers, more free time.”

“That's not a bad thing,” he mutters, tone oddly soft. He averts his tepid gaze, looking back to your blog as he exhales through his nose. “But your world still makes no sense to me. Especially all of this.”

He nods towards the web page.

“It’s okay, the internet takes a while to get used to," you say. "Even for me... I constantly feel like an old crone whenever I hear all the lingo kids are coming up with these days.”

“Hmph.”

Levi looks unimpressed. So, forums—and the internet, it seems—aren’t his thing. Probably for the better—the last thing you need right now is for him to realize there’s a whole fanbase devoted to discussing his character (not to mention the other, less PG-friendly aspects of the conversation).

“Hey, how about we take a break?" You tilt your head, flashing him an easy smile. "You’ve been staring at the screen all morning. It can be a strain on your eyesight.”

Levi’s half-lidded stare crinkles, his lips pursing into a thoughtful pout, the same look he gets whenever you throw him scraps of information about your world and its strange customs.

“I was planning to make some tea,” you add, “want a cup?”

“… if you're making one anyway,” he mumbles, scowling in a way that reminds you of a grumpy cat. Cute.

You head towards your small kitchen, grabbing Levi’s favorite tea bag and laying out clean cups. As the kettle groans alive and you eventually hear that familiar sizzling that tells you the water’s come to a boil, another noise coming from behind garners your attention.

“Oi, something happened to your cat photo-thing,” you overhear Levi drawl.

You turn with a raised brow.

That’s when you notice that Levi’s somehow ended up on your desktop page, the familiar sight of your screensaver (more cats!) appearing into view.

But that’s also when you notice the mouse is hovering dangerous close to one of your folders... your babygirl folder.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no...

“DON’T CLICK THAT!” you plead, attempting to rush to his side to avoid the embarrassment of a lifetime.

Too late. Levi has entered the folder and somehow managed to click on one of the more scandalous pictures; your peripheral catches his expression, and it's the most stupor you've seen on his face yet... and is that pink dusting his cheeks?

Because Levi is looking straight at one of the fanarts you’d saved of him months ago.

Where his pixelated counterpart is tied up. Stark naked.

Well, shit.

— Masterlist / Join my taglist

[romanstheory]

Midnight Flowers a Damian Priest One Shot PT 2

Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem recieving), language, male POV

Word Count: 1,740

Part One

Damian

I can't stop thinking about her, the night we had... Or didn't. I stop myself from calling or texting her what feels like a million times that night. I scrub my palms over my face as if that'll get rid of the thought of her. A huff of hot air escapes my nose before I sit back in the chair in the locker room. "You good bro? You haven't been all the way there lately." JD says from beside me. "I'm fine." A lie, a clear lie but I would rather slam my head into the wall than talk to him about it. A nod from him before he leaves the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts before I leave the room as well.

I fucked up and I know I did but does she really have to mess with my head about it? Not mine but she fucked me like she was. Not mine but she owns my thoughts like she is. Selfishly, I wasted her time to get where I wanted to be, but was it worth it if I had it all now and not her? I thought I wanted this championship... El Campeón but without her, it feels pointless. No, what's pointless is to be so hung up on her when she's made her choice. She wants to sit in some bar getting drunk then I guess that's what she gets to do. My jaw tenses before pushing through the curtain and entering the arena. Some would say I was more aggressive tonight than normal, I might agree because I picked up a quick win not bothering to even allow the ref to raise my hand before I stormed up the ramp, Carlito jogging after me.

"What was that about?" He asks, eyebrows raised to his hairline. All I can do is stare at him to avoid the emotional outburst fizzing at the tip of my tongue. "Look hermano you don't gotta talk to me about it but whatever it is you need to resolve it. And I'm not speaking to you as a member of the judgment day... I'm speaking to you as your friend". Once more my jaw ticks "She hates me" The fizzing rage shifts to sorrow. "She fucking hates me and I deserve it". My head hangs to my chest. "Oh... That's what this is about" Carlito rubs his temple. "I keep apologizing and she just... hates me". A long pause of silence makes me regret being vulnerable. "Show her you mean it" Finally he says "She doesn't believe you so show her you mean it".

-

I've been pressing her for weeks, text messages, flowers to her house, I don't know what the hell she wants from me. I've tried every was possible to prove myself to her over and over again and fuck i'm getting tired. "You look awful" Rhea says walking next to me. "You're such a ray of sunshine" I retort quickly. "What's up with you?" She asks, abruptly stopping mid stride. "Nothing". "You're a bloody liar". A deep sigh escapes me "I haven't heard from ... her... in weeks and I've tried everything" Saying her name feels like a criminal offense at this point. "Oh cause she doesn't believe you" Rhea shrugs. "I've said sorry in every way possible dude" Frustration seeps into my veins.

"Did you?" She raises an eyebrow before she walks away. Shit, did I? My match is a quick one, I'm distracted and I think everyone can tell. Back at my hotel I get into a shower so hot it fills the bathroom with a thick blanket of steam, I didn't bother going out with the boys. Water rushes down my body, the impact of the water stinging my skin. The water runs over my head, covering my in an embrace of hot water. Rhea's voice echoes in my head over and over again Did you? My head shoots up... No... I didn't. All she said she wanted from me was my time, that I never gave it to her. Fuck. I'm so damn stupid I still haven't been giving her the only thing she wanted. Quickly I wash and get out of the shower, grabbing my bags and fumbling out of the room. I need to get to her.

-

A three hour drive isn't so bad when you're determined. The sky is a sheet of darkness, stars filling the sky as I pull up in front of her house. The light is on... She's home. I can't help but to feel a tug in my chest where my heart is, like we're connects and I can't stay away. I wonder if she feels it too. I wonder if she feels the longing that I do, I wonder if I've consumed her thoughts the way she has mine. I wonder if she even will let me in. Maybe she'll slam the door in my face, if she did I deserve it. I don't deserve to ever be in her presence again but if I don't knock on this door right now I'll never forgive myself.

Slowly I reach my hand up to knock on the door, palms sweaty, jaw clenched. knock, knock, knock. The tv pauses and I swear my heart does too before the knob turns and the door open... there she is. Big t shirt and I swear there's nothing under. Is that my t shirt? "Luis.." She says eyes wide as if she's trying to convince herself that it's really me "It's two o'clock in the morning". My chest heaves, what the fuck am I even doing here? "I couldn't stay away" I mutter "I can't stop thinking about you I-" The rest of the words escape me. She opens the door wider, allowing me in. "Can we just... Spend time together?" I ask, turning to her.

A softness covers her face. "Please" She replies just above a whisper. We watch her show, somehow the gap between us is eventually closed. "Thank you" She whispers again. She feels like heaven, everything about her is beautiful. "I couldn't stop thinking about you either" She says, eyes not meeting mine "Everyday after that night as the bar I wished that you would somehow end up at my door. Everyday after that night I missed you more and more". My heart clinches again. "I love you" I blurt out "nd even if you never forgive me I don't think I'll ever stop loving you, or thinking about you, or regretting being such a shit boyfriend"

She's silent for a moment "I love you too... I've always loved you, that's why it hurt so bad when you wouldn't give me... This" She gestures wildly at the air. My hand cup her cheek moving her face so our eyes meet. Beautiful. Softly I push our lips together, initiating a passionate kiss. My pulse quickens and the desire to flip her on her back and have my way with her consumes me. "I'll never make the same mistake again" I breathe into her lips. "Prove it" Her voice laced with lust. Softly I lay her on her back, lifting her shirt... my shirt. I was right, there is nothing under here. Slowly I kiss her stomach leaving a trail of kisses down to her plump vagina.

Already soaking for me. My eyes lock on hers while my tongue trails circles around her clit, a soft moan creeps through her lips, something feral purrs inside of me at the sound of her soft voice. Softly I suck her swollen clit between my lips and I slide my fingers into her slowly. My body threatens to release now, but I won't allow it... Not yet. More than anything I want to make slow passionate love to her, more than that I want to feel her, hold her. My belt jingles as I fumble to get my pants down, she lay there watching, that lust coated look smeared across her face. Slowly I line the head of my member up with her warm entrance.

"I want to take my time" I grumble. "Take as long as you want" She replies. Slowly, painfully slowly I push myself into her. Air escapes my lungs at the feel of her. She felt amazing that night so many weeks ago but this, this feels differently. Her warmth surrounds my member while I continue pushing myself into her slowly, deeply. "God damn" My voice hoarse. Over and over again I slowly pull myself out, push myself back in, stroking her like i'll never see her again. Her body melts into mine, the tv in the background is but a muffle, the world around a blur. It's just me and her filling the room with moans and the wet noise coming from her dripping vagina. Wrapping her arms around the back of my neck she pulls me into a deep kiss. Not wild like they had always been before, but controlled and passionate.

It felt as though our souls danced while I deeply pushed myself into her. I palm her breast, her perfect fucking breast and suck it into my mouth. Nipping, sucking and licking it. I can't get close enough to her, can't have enough of her. I quicken my pace, making love to her feels like the best drug. Pressing down on her lower stomach I stroke harder, sending shockwaves through the room. "Oh my fucking god!" She gasps loudly, eyes shooting open. "You like that?" A smirk spreads across my face. "I love that" She moans. Harder, deeper my strokes become more sloppy. "Luis! Oh fuck!" She screams. "Say it again" I demand, slamming into her harder, our bodies clap together like thunder. "Luis!" She screams. Fuck! "Who am I?" I demand.

"Daddy!" She barely gets the word out. Fuck, she is going to be my undoing. "Whose pussy is this?" I growl, slamming into her even harder, my climax approaching. "Yours! Fuck! It's yours!" She screams, her body stiffens, vagina clinches around me. I press myself deep into her before filling her with my load. "Forever, it's mine forever" I say breathlessly.

I took the next two weeks off of work, Hunter was gracious enough not to ask why. We spent every second together. After not having her, I never want to go without her again. A mistake I will never repeat. Mine, she is mine... Forever.

[pynkgothicka]

Ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ Ｍａｔｔｅｒｓ Ｂｕｔ Ｙｏｕ ＪＨＳ

Pairing - Different Timeline! Dark! Jung Hoseok! x AFAB! Reader

Synopsis- Based off Everything Everywhere All At Once, a random man shows up at your door. Part 3 of the Movie Series!

Featuring - No one!

Word Count - Around 1k

Tags and Warnings - Violence, EEAAO Refs

Authors Note - I wrote my way into circles with this one… I tried hard. So so so hard.

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Music droned on in the background as you cleaned up your apartment. You gathered up scattered books and magazines, wiped down surfaces, and dusted shelves, practically anything to distract yourself. A thunderstorm echoed outside, rain pouring down. You glanced longingly at your patio, usually a peaceful escape from the world outside, but now drenched in rain. With a sigh, you settled back into tidying up.

You made yourself an everything bagel once you were done. Your life was usually lonely, but you enjoyed the solitude. It made you more focused on the little tasks you had in progress. Putting a mixture of cream cheese and jelly on the treat, you turned down your music and put on Adventure Time. The perfect scene of relaxation, and an accomplishment from cleaning up.

Then you heard a knock at your door. “I didn't expect any guests today…” You mumble getting up and pausing the television. As you open the door, you see a man drenched from head to toe, looking at you with a mix of amazement and loss. “Hello?” You say trying to snap him out of it.

He perked up, clearing his throat and speaking. “Can I come in, I need a place to wait out the storm.” He asks. You tilt your head in confusion. Your apartment is on the 4th floor - why didn't he just wait in the lobby downstairs? Surely they wouldn't turn him away. But you can't leave him outside to freeze and get sick. So you step aside and let him in.

“Yeah it's no problem, I know that weather just came out of nowhere.” You say getting a towel from your clothes hamper. You give it to the man and head to your small kitchen to get something warm for him to eat as well. “The towel just came from the dryer, and I'm going to heat up something for you to eat. I don't want you to get a cold.”

“Thank you, though your kindness is wasted on someone like me.” He mutters, wrapping the towel tightly around his shivering frame. You ignore the uneasy feeling in your stomach and continue to heat up a bowl of soup for him. “Do you stay up here by yourself? I mean I couldn't live alone, especially in the city.”

“Well, I enjoy solitude. I tried the whole roommate thing and it just never worked out.” You explain, handing him the steaming bowl and a spoon. As he eats, you lean against the kitchen island, trying to avoid his intense gaze. “What about you? I don't remember ever seeing you around here. Where are you from?” You ask, trying to deflect some of the attention away from yourself.

He leans over, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m Hoseok, well I'm really from nowhere. I don't know I'm just lost, to be honest.” A pang of sympathy hits you as he speaks. Hoseok sits there, consumed by his own inner turmoil. Instinctively, you reach out to grab the empty bowl but he catches your forearm in a tight grip. You try to jerk back but Hoseok peers up at you.

His eyes were crazed. Pupils wide. His attention is straight on you.

“But you can save me.”

You knew something was up. Your other hand goes to Hoseoks face, stopping him temporarily. Quickly, you reach out a hand to stop him from getting too close. Your other hand fumbles towards the kitchen counter, grabbing your trusty handgun for protection. “You need to get the fuck out of here.” You say pointing the gun at him.

“This one has the gall to try and fight back!” He says walking towards you, raising a hand, and snapping. The gun transforms before your eyes, turning into a misshaped load of bread. “You never tried fighting back before, that makes my suspicions correct. You're the one to replace her.” He rambles moving closer to you.

“What are you talking about…” You say body pressed against the countertop. Your hand goes behind you grabbing a kitchen knife. You grab onto it, readying for when he is distracted.

Hoseok snickers. “I watched my girlfriend die, my own timeline… she was glorious. One of the smartest women I've known, but she died because she experimented with her own head. Perfecting jum-” You take the knife and lodge it into Hoseoks stomach. He doubles over crying out. You move away from him, watching him as you slide over to a wall. Hoseok wails holding the knife. “No! Baby don't go! You've wounded me, god it hurts so bad!” He lifts his hands, coated in red up to his face, hands holding and running down his face. He plucks his fingers one by one into his mouth as he stands. “Mmm, Strawberry flavor. Did you make toast earlier or something?”

Your eyes widen as the supposed knife is now a bottle of strawberry jam. Hoseok was completely out of your league, there was no way you could take him. His hand runs down the countertop his nails changing colors with each second. His hand leaves behind swirls of colors that constantly change. He grabs the towel which transforms into a rope in his hands, his wild eyes darting between the two of you. “What even are you?! Who even are you really?!?” You yelled sliding to your bedroom. You had changed your plan to leave through the fire escape.

The man followed behind you at a slow pace. “Hoseok, or Jay, or maybe J-Hope, maybe even Hobi. God, what does your timeline call me?” He says digging into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, and reading the ID inside. “Yeah seems like I'm Hoseok here. So I'm just Hoseok to you. And I'm the man who just wants his life back.” He sneers, stretching the rope. You run to your window but are stopped, Hoseok grabbing your neck with the rope with the precision you couldn't even begin to fathom.

You're forced on the bed, Hoseok straddling you as he forces the rope tighter on your neck. You choke and gasp as he digs the rope into your neck. “L-Let go.” You manage to gasp out. Your hand goes to his face, trying to push him even a little bit to let off of you. And it works as he stumbles back. You catch your breath, looking at him as he regains his posture. Crawling back you grab your lamp and try to attack him for one final attempt.

You could've almost predicted it turning into a bunch of fireflies. You looked at your hands, finally giving in. You sobbed as Hoseok stood back up getting on his knees in front of you, as you sat on the bed. “Nothing makes sense… why does nothing make sense?”

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops @mayvalentine33 @devilzliaison

[fandom-hoarder]

What’s the wincest big fic?

[Ref]

The fic is Fumbling in the Dark: Love Advice For the Romantically Impaired by leonidaslion

Enjoy!

[emotionally-defeated-mimic]

[The man tips their head away from the bright light that softly flutters into the room. It's bright, loud, and reminds them of the sterile walls of a hospital. It causes their mouth to pull into a slight scowl]

[Despite the large strands of hair that cover their eyes, the light breaks through and pierces at their only good eye]

"So... Miss... um... Giro!" [The pronunciation is sloppy, and it makes them scowl deeper. It almost makes them forget how he mentions them as 'miss']

"Girão." [They correct, trying not to growl at the man holding a clipboard and pen. They hadn't expected the administrator to hand out personal files so easily. Perhaps it wasn't that personal]

[The interviewer ignores their correction]

"I was asked to gather some information about you. This only has some basics: where you come from, your age, and... your gender is marked out, but I'll make a note of it, ma'am." [The man clicks his pen against the edge of the clipboard]

"Alright! Let's make sure this is updated!" [The interviewer kisses his teeth before he starts. He's twitching nervously from being unable to see their eyes]

"Name?"

"The Mimic." [They huffed]

"No- no," [the interviewer chuckles] "Your real name?"

"Atanacio Luis Girão. Nobody calls me that." [They speak calmly, in short responds that leak subtle threat]

"Okay.." [he scribbles the middle name onto the paper] "How old are you?"

[Mimic thinks for a second] "43." [They settle on]

"And your gender?" [The interviewer seems very proud in thinking they're a woman. Does their stubble not give off a masculine appearance? It must be their voice]

"A man." [The interviewer chokes on his spit but jots it down without murmuring a word]

"H... Height?" [He seems to fumble for the word, must have been reading]

"6'6"."

"Place of origin?" [These questions were starting to bore]

[Mimic stands up, startling the interviewer who had thought their height had been a simple joke. Mimic reaches for their coat and swings it over their shoulders. They approach the small door that led to this small room they were in. Opening it with a rough twist]

"We're done." [They slam the door shut behind them]

☆

[Anything below is ooc!]

Please feel free to interact with this fella!!!

Asks are also appreciated!

The Mimic is Puerto Rican born and speaks a max of 2 languages while learning others on the side. They are fluent in Spanish and English.

Mimic is transmasc but is referred to primarily by they/them. Only on occasion they will be referred to by he/him pronouns by teammates.

They have a high-pitched tone that can give a slight illusion to a woman, especially with the long hair and slim body build

Extras - Their respawning does not create clones of them! Meaning there is only one of them and should stay that way! Are they to die they will respawn with no other body.

They have a small garden that they tend to, it is very small and only harnesses about two or three plants. Primarily flowers. They love flowers!

They transfer between RED and BLU every month because of the inability to be cloned!

Has a small rabbit named Lunita, who is a dark brown rabbit with white ear tips. Treats her like a little child.

Rules!!!

Magic anons allowed! (I actually had to search these up)

No NSFW!

Otherwise, any sort of message/ask is fine!!! Be appropriate with any flirty messages (???)

Basic DNI: Don't be homophobic, racist, if you're against Palestine, known to like problematic creators.

The mod uses tone tags! If you're leaving a ask be sure to add a tone tag if one is needed please!

The mod is 17 years old, don't be a fucking creep. You will be publicly shamed. /srs

☆

Ask tag: #tea talk

In character interaction tag: #a tea party

Reblogs/character reblogs tag: #spilling tea

Open thread/open for interaction: #sugar and milk

Rp response: #natural and bitter

Mod/ooc tag: #a rabbits response

Here's their ref!

It's more in-tune to the idea of if he were an actual tf2 character, but most of this applies to character them as well!

[beggingwolf]

🔀 sid/mario

"Do You Ride" by Caleb Groh

"No," Murls groaned as Sid emerged from the locker room in his sweats.

"I already said I can't," Sid mumbled around the protein bar lodged between his teeth. Cold water dripped from his sodden hair down the back of his neck, soaking the collar of his baggy t-shirt.

"I worked so hard to get the bouncer to like me," Murls complained, "you were guaranteed an in, man!"

"We'll go out in Ottawa, yeah?"

"That's no fun," Murls said as he followed Sid out of the dry lockers and into the Igloo's concrete hallways. "You're allowed to drink there."

"Funny how that works," Sid rasped around a bite of his protein bar.

"You can't be a goody-two-shoes forever, Crosby," Murls said accusingly as they rounded a corner. "You're young, you've got so much leeway to be stupid that you could bungee jump with it."

"How about I bungee jump with a grip on those big fuckin' balls you've got, trying to get the Goose to go out," Bugsy said from a few paces back.

"You'd call those balls big?" Sid asked just as Murls protested: "Stop trying to make that nickname happen, man, it's not working."

"It works. He has a gold medal. Golden goose."

"A juniors gold medal," Murls scoffed.

"Hey now," Sid began.

"And he's not a fucking bird. Is he laying eggs? No!"

"Talbo calling him Creature isn't much better," Bugsy muttered, but he just jammed his phone into the back pocket of his tight jeans. He was dressed in a uniform Sid had seen on him before: button-down shirt, dark pants, his "nice" sneakers.

"See?" Murls said, turning to Sid. "Bugsy's going out too. You've gotta come."

"Can't," Sid said simply, striding ahead and pushing open the double doors leading into the players' garage. "You boys go have fun."

"We'd have more fun if you loosened up!" Murls called after him, and Sid turned just enough so Murls could see the curl of his smirk.

"Your mom likes me wound up," he said, and Bugsy cackled as the doors swung shut.

The parking garage was quiet.

Sid had stayed late, just like Bugsy and Murls. He had gotten into the habit of haunting the players' areas as long as possible back in Rimouski; once the reporters and fans had departed, once it was just him and the zamboni drivers, it was easier to uncurl his spine in the weights room and go back to being just Sid: unobserved, unreported, unpoliced by the media and refs and older players.

He was still being watched, though.

The Benz sat in its spot right next to the door, its silver paint gleaming in the harsh overhead lights. Its windows and headlights were dark, but the engine hummed.

Another trail of water slid down Sid's neck, icy cold against his suddenly warm skin.

He hurried to the passenger side, as if Bugsy and Murls were going to burst through the doors instead of wandering to get a taxi by an arena side door. The car handle was cold to the touch, and Sid threw his bag and then himself into the vehicle.

"Good game," Mario said.

"Thanks," Sid said in kind as he fumbled for his seatbelt. His hands felt both too cold and too hot, fumbling with the metal. He'd played well. A goal and two assists. It had been a good night.

"I, ah, we missed you out there."

Mario smiled as he turned out from the garage to the street. The streetlights lit his face dramatically as they passed overhead, the bright bursts suddenly making Mario appear younger before plunging him back into darkness.

"Did your appointment go okay?"

Mario's hand slipped from the wheel and onto Sid's knee. Sid's legs had always been huge, but Mario's knee felt big on him anyways.

"Let's save that kind of talk for another day, Sidney."

"Sure," Sid whispered.

He stayed quiet as Mario drove them away from Downtown Pittsburgh, out towards the suburbs, past the exit to Sewickley, and up the dark road that led to a place only the two of them knew.

[myths-of-fantasy]

All it takes is one black lamb to dismantle an empire Ref / Ao3 Link / Previous / Next

“A blessing upon those who devote their lives to you.”

Naliyen wasn’t pleased to see that Amdusias and Valefor were also now members of the Garden but thankfully, it seemed the grudge she held against Barbatos was confined to that worm rather than just anyone related to him. She eyed them with open distrust and shooed Tynamar away from them but otherwise seemed content to mingle with the others . Eve thinks it helped that both former loyalists seemed ashamed to be seeing her and gave her as much space as she could want. The black sheep elected to focus on repairing and constructing leaf-beds before moving to the cooking fire to begin using all of the berries she’d collected on her trip.

Lumor approached her with glee, dragging her excitedly over to the farm-plot for her to see the all of the effort put in. She’d been gone a lot longer than she usually was for a quest - a full week rather than just a few days - and the followers had taken the initiative to further spread the plot of land. Fina raised a palm in a friendly manner, waving happily as she watered the the dirt mounds.

Well done, she signed watching the stag immediately straighten up with pride. I see you’ve roped off the other side.

“Yes!” the stag agreed, fumbling with his hooves as he attempted to sign the words he knew. “We planned to make two sections to make sure we have enough to for everyone to eat and still have extra.”

Interesting - I didn’t teach some of those words. Ratau must be picking up the slack in sign-education while I’m gone.

Clever, she signed instead. Please continue to do so - and if you have the time, would you mind showing them around?

She gestured to Naliyen and her daughter.

“I have plenty of time to welcome someone new to our Garden o blessed lamb,” he said reverently, clearly pleased to be trusted with this new task.

Eve nodded, leaving him to it and made her way toward the shrine of herself with its palms raised toward the sky. It seemed they had already begun to work on a second version of the shrine, one made of stone instead of wood. They were making decent progress too she’d admit, it was already beginning to resemble her, though she had a feeling they’d been waiting for their return to finish it off. More importantly were the many swirling, twinkling tails she now associated with devotion orbiting around the statue’s unfinished head.

Our followers grow more devout by the day, the Crimson Eye noted appreciatively. Constructing a shrine far more fitting for my glory.

She felt the same gentle tingle she’d initially felt when the Red Crown had replenished the temple and obediently raised her palms to the half-constructed shrine. The power in her veins flared and she watched the flash of red begin eating away at the solid spaces of stone, gouging holes to make the wide, dark sockets that which blackened water poured to fill the widening pond at the foot of the statue. She took a breath and gave the magic a twist, lowering the height of the belled=collar dangling from the statue’s neck to be more accurate to how low she carried her own and with a thought, added the faint outline of scarring across the figure’s throat.

“Hah,” she groaned, drawing a hoof up to the long sealed gash on her throat. How dare it still have the audacity to sting and burn like this when it was no longer a fresh wound.

…apologies borrower of power, I did not think of the strain such divinity would have on your mortal form.

Don’t fret, I’ll be fine.

“Oh blessed lamb, we are honored by your efforts,” said Valefor eagerly.

Ah, he must have been one of the followers to begin work on the advanced shrine. She reached out with a pleased smile, taking the worm’s hands and pressing them together in an imitation of prayer. She was going to mouth the words ‘thank you’ but she felt… something.

It was a strange feeling, different from the burning fiery sensation that they had begun to associate with the power of the Red Crown. It was… cold but also warm. Dwarfed by the storm of power that the Red Crown emitted but still warm, still reassuring. Without thinking too hard about it, she channeled the power and allowed the gently chill to transfer into the worm. It was practically instinctual, the way she pushed her feelings of satisfaction and gratitude into the stream while the worm shivered in her hold.

Only when the gentle energy faded away, seeming to dissipate into her skin did she let go and quickly draw a hoof to mouth.

Thank you, she signed once more.

She moved to begin fixing meals for the followers, the strange arcane energy dancing through her mind.

[my-weird-news]

😡 NFL Game Bumps 'Bachelorette' Finale! Fans Furious! 😱

Bachelor Brouhaha: Football Fumbles with Love! So, folks, gather round and let me tell you a tale of love, loss, and Monday night TV madness. We all know the kind of intense devotion Bachelor Nation has for those rose-strewn romances, right? But oh, the chaos that unfurled in Washington, D.C.! Picture this: Charity Lawson was on the brink of her much-awaited "happily ever after" on the Bachelorette. She was all set to pick her prince charming while the rest of the world (well, not really the whole world, just the part hooked on reality TV) held its collective breath. But hold on, D.C. dwellers didn't quite get the memo. What did they get instead, you ask? Drumroll, please! The Washington Commanders, yes, the preseason NFL kings, took center stage on those local airwaves. Can you believe it? Charity's quest for love was benched like a second-string quarterback. You could almost hear the collective gasp of outrage echoing through the nation's capital. And oh, Twitter wasn't too far behind, with tweets hotter than a touchdown celebration dance. One irked viewer bellowed, "Whoa, @ABCNetwork, your choice of airing football over the Bachelorette finale screams 'fumble' louder than a ref's whistle!" And then there was the astute observation that watching a bunch of helmet-clad beefcakes chase a pigskin wasn't exactly the perfect date night for romantics. "But wait," someone else cried out, "is this a fever dream? Preseason football? Seriously?" Yes, my friends, the Bachelorette fans in D.C. were forced into a TV timeout, while the rest of the world reveled in rose ceremonies and dramatic breakups. Someone grab the smelling salts; I think a few fans might've fainted! The local affiliate, WJLA, tried to mend the broken hearts by shooing away disgruntled viewers to a channel called Charge. Sure, it's free – if you're swimming in a sea of cable subscriptions. Meanwhile, the cord-cutters who've embraced streaming services like YouTubeTV and Hulu + Live TV found themselves in the technological dark ages. Guess what? The New York Times also had a field day with this gridiron vs. roses debacle. They even found a fan who was "pretty frustrated" with missing out on the live action. Bless her heart, she was grappling with a 24-hour TV blackout, and no, it's not a power outage, folks. It's the agony of not being part of the Bachelorette buzz in real-time. And just to pour salt on the romance-wounded, the Commanders clinched a victory against the Baltimore Ravens. Oh, the irony! But hey, at least they didn't get the satisfaction of a loss. Small blessings, right? Hold your hats, because the story isn't over yet. Charity, our lovely leading lady, finally handed her rose to Dotun Olubeko amidst beaches, palm trees, and enough emotional turmoil to rival a daytime soap opera. There was also a Joey Graziadei in the mix, who was later announced as the next Bachelor. That's right, the guy who didn't get the rose gets to throw his own love party. It's like the consolation prize was a ticket to the romantic circus! Charity poured her heart out to Dotun, proclaiming, "You've made me believe in love again," as if he had singlehandedly invented love like the Steve Jobs of relationships. And then, oh then, Dotun drops down on one knee, presenting his case like a lawyer arguing for a lifetime of commitment, saying, "the love that we have is perfect." If I had a dime for every time someone uttered that line… Fast forward to the "After the Final Rose" special, and Charity's dishing out all the details like a celebrity gossip column. Wedding bells are in the air, but not for long. The engagement's apparently going to be as short as a speedy touchdown run. No set date, just some vague promises of marital bliss while they "enjoy the season of life." Classic! Because who needs wedding planning when you can watch strangers dance on reality TV instead? So there you have it, folks, a tale of TV twists and turns that Shakespeare himself would've been proud of. Charity's on her way to the dance floor, probably twirling in a rose-patterned ballroom gown. And the rest of us? Well, we're just here, popcorn in hand, waiting for the next touchdown pass to sail across our screens – or maybe a bouquet of roses, who knows? 🌹# Bachelor Brouhaha: Football Fumbles with Love! So, folks, gather round and let me tell you a tale of love, loss, and Monday night TV madness. We all know the kind of intense devotion Bachelor Nation has for those rose-strewn romances, right? But oh, the chaos that unfurled in Washington, D.C.! Picture this: Charity Lawson was on the brink of her much-awaited "happily ever after" on the Bachelorette. She was all set to pick her prince charming while the rest of the world (well, not really the whole world, just the part hooked on reality TV) held its collective breath. But hold on, D.C. dwellers didn't quite get the memo. What did they get instead, you ask? Drumroll, please! The Washington Commanders, yes, the preseason NFL kings, took center stage on those local airwaves. Can you believe it? Charity's quest for love was benched like a second-string quarterback. You could almost hear the collective gasp of outrage echoing through the nation's capital. And oh, Twitter wasn't too far behind, with tweets hotter than a touchdown celebration dance. One irked viewer bellowed, "Whoa, @ABCNetwork, your choice of airing football over the Bachelorette finale screams 'fumble' louder than a ref's whistle!" And then there was the astute observation that watching a bunch of helmet-clad beefcakes chase a pigskin wasn't exactly the perfect date night for romantics. "But wait," someone else cried out, "is this a fever dream? Preseason football? Seriously?" Yes, my friends, the Bachelorette fans in D.C. were forced into a TV timeout, while the rest of the world reveled in rose ceremonies and dramatic breakups. Someone grab the smelling salts; I think a few fans might've fainted! The local affiliate, WJLA, tried to mend the broken hearts by shooing away disgruntled viewers to a channel called Charge. Sure, it's free – if you're swimming in a sea of cable subscriptions. Meanwhile, the cord-cutters who've embraced streaming services like YouTubeTV and Hulu + Live TV found themselves in the technological dark ages. Guess what? The New York Times also had a field day with this gridiron vs. roses debacle. They even found a fan who was "pretty frustrated" with missing out on the live action. Bless her heart, she was grappling with a 24-hour TV blackout, and no, it's not a power outage, folks. It's the agony of not being part of the Bachelorette buzz in real-time. And just to pour salt on the romance-wounded, the Commanders clinched a victory against the Baltimore Ravens. Oh, the irony! But hey, at least they didn't get the satisfaction of a loss. Small blessings, right? Hold your hats, because the story isn't over yet. Charity, our lovely leading lady, finally handed her rose to Dotun Olubeko amidst beaches, palm trees, and enough emotional turmoil to rival a daytime soap opera. There was also a Joey Graziadei in the mix, who was later announced as the next Bachelor. That's right, the guy who didn't get the rose gets to throw his own love party. It's like the consolation prize was a ticket to the romantic circus! Charity poured her heart out to Dotun, proclaiming, "You've made me believe in love again," as if he had singlehandedly invented love like the Steve Jobs of relationships. And then, oh then, Dotun drops down on one knee, presenting his case like a lawyer arguing for a lifetime of commitment, saying, "the love that we have is perfect." If I had a dime for every time someone uttered that line… Fast forward to the "After the Final Rose" special, and Charity's dishing out all the details like a celebrity gossip column. Wedding bells are in the air, but not for long. The engagement's apparently going to be as short as a speedy touchdown run. No set date, just some vague promises of marital bliss while they "enjoy the season of life." Classic! Because who needs wedding planning when you can watch strangers dance on reality TV instead? So there you have it, folks, a tale of TV twists and turns that Shakespeare himself would've been proud of. Charity's on her way to the dance floor, probably twirling in a rose-patterned ballroom gown. And the rest of us? Well, we're just here, popcorn in hand, waiting for the next touchdown pass to sail across our screens – or maybe a bouquet of roses, who knows? 🌹 Read the full article

[creator-of-calm-queer-chaos]

(I almost forgot to post today’s) Febuwhump day 6: Secrets revealed with Ward and Skye

For @febuwhump ‘s challenge! Day 6: Secrets revealed with Ward and Skye

Ao3 stand alone: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44838355

Ao3 as chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44655928/chapters/112815811#workskin

Timeline: Sometime s1 of AoS, before Ward is revealed to be Hydra, I guess?

TW: gunshots (very tempted to put Russian here but I won’t /ref) 

They had all thought it was a victory. Coulson and May were talking to HQ about where to take the officer. Fitzsimmons were working on learning all they could about the tech they had confiscated from him. And to think, they had picked him up behind a grocery store!

Skye and Ward were on guard in the garage. The man, named Igor Belyeav, was tied to a pole with a gag in his mouth. He was a high-ranking Hydra officer who had been trying to send stolen documents on public wifi, and Skye’s system had flagged it. They landed, picked him up, and knocked him up with little trouble.

It almost seemed too easy. And of course, it was. But not for the reason any of them would have expected.

B elyeav was watching Ward closely. He ignored him, and was leaning against the stairs, cleaning his guns. Skye was sitting near Belyaev, typing away at her computer.

“Вы говорите по-русски?” Belyeav asked Skye suddenly. She looked at him blankly. “Хороший. Эй, ты собираешься развязать меня или нет?” he said to Ward.

“Нет, я под прикрытием, сэр,” Ward responded darkly. “Что ска��али руководители?”

Skye blinked and looked at Ward. “You know Russian?”

“I’m a spy. Of course I know Russian,” he said, not taking his eyes off Belyaev.

“Они сказали, что пришло время,” Belyaev said softly, grinning.

“Xороший,” Ward stood up and drew his gun.

“Woah, woah, what are you doing?” Skye cried, jumping to her feet.

“It’s time, Johnson.”

Ward slammed his hand on the control pannel, and the lab doors slid shut and locked with a deafening boom. Inside, Fitz and Simmons spun around and ran to the door, shouting. They couldn’t hear a word. Ward grinned, a dark glint in his eye. He hit another control and the lights went out.

“WARD!” Skye screamed.

“Развязать меня!” Belyaev yelled.

There were crashes as Skye fumbled around for a switch, a glint, anything to get lights back. Her hands closed around a gun just as the lights came on-

Belyaev was free, and standing next to Ward. Ward, who had just untied him. Ward, who was pointing a gun at Skye.

“What is this, Ward?” Skye said, slowly getting to her feet. “Explain.”

“Молодец, молодой человек,” Belyaev said, patting Ward on the shoulder. He grinned.

“Ward, don’t make me do this.” Skye pointed the gun back.

“Ha! That gun isn’t even loaded.”

Skye pulled the trigger. It clicked. He was right.

“You have guts, Skye. I’ll give you that. Your talents would actually be appreciated at Hydra,” he said, slowly walking closer. “Not like these people, who use you and don’t respect you.”

Skye looked up to see Coulson and May at the top of the stairs, blocked by the doors. She backed away from Ward, trying not to make it obvious where she was headed.

“Don’t try it,” Ward said, all humour gone. “But really, Skye. Last chance. Freedom to do whatever you want, intellectual freedom, taking down institutions like this. Wasn’t that what Rising Tide was all about?”

For a moment, Skye paused. She thought about his words.

“Hydra invades governments. That’s what I want to do…” she trailed off. Ward was right in front of her.  “But not the rest.”

In a moment of pure adrenaline, Skye headbutted Ward and grabbed the ammunition, and as she was struggling -

BANG.

Skye was on the ground. She couldn’t breathe well. Her hands were sticky. Why were her hands wet?

There was a gun in her hands. She needed to fire it.

Fire. Click. Click. Nothing. Laughing. Someone was laughing. Why was someone laughing?

“Goodbye, Skye,” a voice said.

Skye turned over on her back, gasping. Ward was standing over her. Ward. She jammed the ammunition in the gun and- Ward snatched the gun from her and threw it across the room. It skidded to a stop by Lola’s wheels. She looked up and Ward grinned at her. His leg flew back before kicking her deftly in the stomach. She curled in on herself and gasped. Fire spread through her. When her vision cleared, Ward and the other man whose name had escaped her were strapping on parachutes. They opened up the garage door and Skye screamed as she felt things fall. She grabbed the nearest thing that was rooted to the ship and watched as Ward, her friend, her companion, her betrayer, and the man jumped together.

Skye screamed. She screamed and screamed and screamed. She screamed in pain, screamed in fear, screamed at Ward, screamed at Hydra, screamed at herself for letting someone in just in time for her to get hurt. Only when she felt someone touch her shoulder did she stop.

Simmons’ face swam into focus. The wind had stopped. The garage door was closed. The lab door was open. She was okay.

Or at least, she thought as they carried her to the lab, she would be.

Skye let the darkness pull her under, the last thing she felt was Simmons clinging to her hand.

[trainerlynda]

She flinched hard at the sudden loudness, a wince on his face, oh boy why did she say that? "I uh- yeah...? It's um- too big to turn into now but uhm, I have a picture, Blivie took it with my phone last time I visited him."

He fumbles for her phone, then messes with it a little, finally showing the picture. It's a large dark brown draconic creature with some elements of a Giratina such as patterns and number of limbs, the armor on the body being a goldish yellow with red accents, the underside of the wings being purple with eye patterns. Lynda's amulet is nestled between chest armor and glowing very brightly, the dragon seems to be focused on flying somewhere.

"I can- uh- change my size in that form, but I'd still be too big, 'bout twice as big as a Giratina when in the form normally, can get to about twelve feet tall shrinking."

//Art under the cut

//Lineart for the ref was made by @/obsin! (not ating as this is a rp blog and I don't think they wanna be randomly @/ed by one of my rp blogs lol) I did the colors.

//Closed Starter for @newvillainontheblock

Lynda is slow to come into the room that Zee is in, waiting for doctors to see it before even thinking of showing her face, there's an air of caution from him.

It's an odd change to see Lynda walking around the Taskforce base instead of Shadow, but it's something she's trying to get used to, for at the very least comfort's sake.

Like in this case, he didn't want Scoundrel to feel like this was an interrogation or that her job was on the line for its behavior, all this is is a friend worried for another, that's all.

She brought in a boxed 'Unovan' cheese cake and fidget toys like he promised, she kept quiet about what he could sense, not wanting to set it on edge right off the bat.

He moved a near by chair closer to where Zee is, setting the stuff she had down on a near by table, and waited.

Waited for Zee to speak.

[year2000electronics]

something something er- something something- 

HAIL THE ORIGAMI KING! 

info/ref post all about my legion of stationery! the alternate outfits are based off battle phases- knocking all of rubber bands bands off, destroying tape’s dispender, and scissors unsheathing her blade

a full info post under the cut!

THE MISSILE MAESTRO: COLORED PENCILS

Pronouns: He/they

A snobby artist who complains about others so much that it’s only when he gets into the groove of things that he can finally let loose. He’s either complaining his heart out or so absorbed into making a deadly masterpiece. It’s anyone’s guess what’s what at any moment. He considers the Legion to be more of an army or a regiment than an actual group, so feels less need to establish social relationships with the others. Despite the extremely Frenchy name and moustache, he mostly just has an accent. He complains too much to bother with two languages. He was actually the one to assign each member of the Legion to a streamer! He could very objectively see their strengths and weaknesses and assigned each member accordingly. (He says he messed up with Tape, though that’s probably because Tape won’t stop ditching his streamer to come bother him.) In battle, he takes out a monocle he uses as a reticle for his missiles. How pretentious...

THE ELASTIC ENTERTAINER: RUBBER BAND

Pronouns: He/she

A second, snobbier artist- this time in the art of theatre. However, unlike Colored Pencils, Rubber Band isn’t some hipster who goes against the grain just to do it. Rubber Band loves to express himself through showbiz, shows off at every opportunity he gets, and thinks everyone should love his work JUST as much as he does! Everything she does is extravagant to the max. Olly brought her into this boring old world for a REASON, after all! (What do you mean the reason isn’t to be a STAR???) Rubber Band gets along with most of the other members just fine and takes a lot of inspiration from them just due to how differently they express themselves compared to her! Of course, this is aside from Colored Pencils, who he has a rivalry with. He has on at least three different and overly complicated layers of clothing. It’s ridiculous.  Rubber Band still supports the group... just in her own unique, Shakespearian, Rubber-Band way.

THE DISCO DEVIL: HOLE PUNCH

Pronouns: He/hee (Just a little music humour for you dudes. Heh heh. -Oh, you need an actual answer? Uh, yeah, he/him’s chill.)

Don’t let this guy’s party animal nature lower your guard- Hole Punch is one of the most fiendishly clever members of the Legion. He might be the craftiest of them all, actually. How DID he get all those toads to a secret temple...? Doing the absolutely spine-chilling acts of turning Toads into disco zombies and stealing the sun just for a party, Hole Punch is deadset on making life his party- and everyone else will be his guests, whether they like it or not. His ‘ancient’ tastes in disco music and outdated slang baffle most who try to befriend him, especially certain DJs, but since the other members of the Legion are just as out of touch as him, Hole Punch is one of the most popular members. He considers the Legion ‘in’ enough to include them as part of his exclusive inner circle.

THE SHIFTY STICKER: TAPE 

Pronouns: He/him

‘Ey, I’m gettin’ described here! Tape, much like he appears to Mario, is a no-good, dirty, cheatin’ mobster. Gangster? Eh, just let the translators figure it out. He’s a bit hotheaded, and plays dirty the first chance he gets. He’s also super protective of his ride, of course. However, strangely enough, Tape is considered the one who looks out for the rest of the group. Thanks to his position at the Great Sea, he can very easily slip away from his post not only to sneak up to Shangri-Spa, but to visit the other streamers. Because of this, he feels a greater need to defeat Mario, to get revenge for his fallen allies. Cos DAMMIT, SOMEBODY’S GOTTA! Rubber Band insists Tape would make a great actor, and he’s got the perfect charisma, but he worries he’d fumble his lines. He’s also prone to making empty threats- dude got defensive over a streamer’s feelings, FFS. Tape really wants to see Olivia join her brother again. Half executing the boss’ orders, and half cos... it might cheer the kid up a bit....He’s also that type of bad boy who gets all blushy when he’s embarrassed. 

THE DUAL-BLADED DUELIST, SCISSORS

Pronouns: She/her 

Scissors makes a pretty good first impression by her standards, convincing you she’s some kind of dark, mysterious, and serious swordsman. However... the moment you actually step into Bowser’s Castle, the evidence begs to differ. The way she makes those cutout soldiers lent credence to her appearance at first, but the way she finds them absolutely adorable and coos to her Handaconda about how much of a good boy it is... Yeesh. What doesn’t help is when you actually get her on the battlefield, she’s still spouting battle banter at you, but she’s practically hopping off the ground from how excited she is to SLICE THE PLUMBER IN HALF. I mean, just look at her hair! It’s so chopped up because she gets so excited to SLICE that she nips her hair by accident all the time. While it’s true she may not be the strong, silent type, Scissors is still pretty scary to deal with, so don’t underestimate her despite her quirks. The Legion still consider her one of their own... even if they don’t always ‘GET’ her, per se. Like that one time she tried to get them to accept something she made called a ‘Yape’... whatever that was. (Fun fact: her ‘scarf’ is actually Handaconda having a rest on her.)

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Footballer!Calum Masterlist

Links Last Checked: January 24th, 2024

Anywhere in the world (ao3) - bluenna michael/luke, calum/ashton N/R, 4k

Summary: Ashton starts at a new school and meets Michael and Luke.

And then, Calum.

Come On Skinny Love, Just Last The Year (ao3) - senioritastyles calum/ashton G, 4k

Summary: "Daddy!" Evan calls, eyes wide as he looks just past Ashton.

Ashton barely has time to turn around before his cart crashes into someone else's, his distracted walking leading him right into the collision. He looks up to apologize as Evan quietly giggles next to him, somewhat hiding behind Ashton's legs, and Ashton is met with warm dark brown eyes and golden skin and a smiling stranger who doesn't seem even remotely miffed at Ashton. The stranger is beautiful really, it's the only way Ashton can think to describe him as he fumbles trying to find his voice.

Or: Ashton is a single dad and he meets Calum by chance.

desperation (my chest hurts) (ao3) - retromalum michael/calum G, 4k

Summary: Desperation. That's all Michael can taste in this kiss. It's written all over his mouth in his messy handwriting, it's obvious in the way his tongue props at his own mouth. Kissing Calum after so long is like coming back home after a long day, except for the fact that he hasn't seen him in over four years. And he's all the same.

or

The one where Calum chooses football over music and leaves the rest of the boys on their own. They fall apart.

Friolero (ao3) - merlypops michael/calum E, 3k

Summary: 'Michael remembers how Calum was a bit like his own personal space heater, except a whole lot softer and more cuddly, and Michael remembers how he smelt good too which was definitely a bonus.'  

Michael is freezing and Calum just wants to keep him aflame.

i don’t like a gold rush (ao3) - jbhmalum luke/calum

Summary: Luke keeps having thoughts about Calum. The only issue is, Luke isn’t into boys, and he doesn’t want to be. (inspired by gold rush by taylor swift)

It was always you (ao3) - CliffordAffliction luke/calum, michael/ashton E, 48k

Summary: Everyone wants Calum Hood and Luke can have him just as long as it’s on Calum’s terms. Thing’s take a turn for the worst when Luke begins to push Calum away, fed up with the way he treats him, and Calum begins to realize how much he really needs Luke in his life after all.

i wanna hold your hand while we’re growing up (ao3) - nothingliketherain michael/calum T, 12k

Summary: Michael focuses on their hands.

The contrast between their skin, Calum’s chipped black nail polish, Michael’s finger tattoos, the difference in their size.

It wasn’t always like this. Calum’s hand used to be smaller, Michael’s fingers used to be less calloused, but it’s still familiar, after years of doing this.

5 times Michael grabbed Calum’s hand over the years + 1 time Calum grabbed Michael’s

Playin' In The Street, Gonna Be A Big Man Some Day (ao3) - senoritastyles calum/ashton G, 3k

Summary: "Alright, Ohio calls the toss since they're the home team." The ref says, holding a coin in his hand and looking at Ashton. "Call it." He requests, flipping the coin into the air.

"Heads." Ashton says, eyes mischievous when they catch Calum's through the masks on their helmets.

Calum subtly shakes his head with a smirk and the ref bends to pick up the coin off the ground. "Heads it is. Ohio, it's your choice."

Ashton smirks and looks knowingly at his boyfriend. "We'll kick off first."

Or: Calum and Ashton face off in the national college football championship.

tongue tied by words (ao3) - strxngersagain luke/calum G, 4k

Summary: “Are you wearing my shirt?” Luke glances down at his chest, the Led Zeppelin t-shirt he found in Calum’s room hangs from his shoulders. “I thought this was yours?” He says, glancing at Calum.

“So did I.” Calum shrugs, his fingers still lingering on Luke’s thigh, eyes on the TV. “Bro,” Ashton groans. “I already have to deal with you stealing my shit.” He points at Calum, whose eyes still don’t leave the TV. “But now you too?!”or5 times luke stole calum's clothes, and 1 time calum stole luke's

you're the thing that i can't quit (ao3) - lucasfletcher calum/ashton T, 2k

Summary: “So, you’ve got the hots for your son’s football coach?” Michael asks from the other side of the bar, leaning on his elbows and blowing his gum in Ashton’s face annoyingly. “Shh, Michael,” Ashton looks around to make sure no one’s close enough to hear them. “And who the fuck even says ‘got the hots’ anymore?” “So you do!” he pauses and a grin takes over his features. “Also fuck you I can say whatever I want.” 

[lostinmirkwood]

Rinkside

Find it on AO3 here.

It’s not often that Arya gets to go to a hockey game anymore. Between classes for her Master’s degree, work, and the ticket prices it never seems to work out in her favor. But when Ned wins a pair of tickets to tonight’s Storm’s End Lightning game and offers to take her with him she jumps at the chance. Ned knew how much she loved hockey and she was ecstatic when he thought of her first to take with him.

“Want a beer?” he asks as they find their seats. She takes a moment to survey her surroundings, they weren’t the best seats in the house, but they were free.

“Sure, but just the one, and some popcorn too if it’s not too much trouble!” He smiles at her and takes off to get drinks and snacks for them before the game starts.

While waiting for the lights to dim and the music to start she looks around at the people that are slowly filling in around them. The sight of children bundled up like small marshmallows against the chill of the arena, their parents arms loaded with popcorn and sodas makes her smile at the memories of going to games with her father and brothers at the Winterfell Ice Arena growing up. A couple of guys in jerseys fill in behind them, loudly talking about the upcoming wedding of one of them, a father is explaining the basics of the game to a little girl with blonde pigtails in the row ahead, and two seats down from her sits a man in a nice business suit. Her eyes linger on him for just a moment and she wonders if they’ve met before, and why he’s wearing a suit to a hockey game. There’s something that is vaguely familiar about his messy black hair and icy blue eyes. He’s quite attractive and when she catches his eye they exchange a small smile before she quickly looks away with a slight blush.

Ned returns just as the lights dim, handing her a beer and a small bag of popcorn, a tray of nachos in his other hand. They stand and clap as the music begins and the players make their way onto the ice.

“Thanks for bringing me,” she says as they sit back down.

“Well, I know how much you love it. The pictures at your desk speak for themselves! It must be your Northern blood, I don’t know how you aren’t freezing,” Ned is bundled in a scarf, and hat with gloves poking out of the front pocket of his heavy sweatshirt.

Arya internally rolls her eyes but smiles at him, Dornishmen . The arena isn’t that cold. “I do love a good game.”

Ned grins back before saying, “I’m not very familiar with all of this like you. We don’t play ice sports in the south. You’re going to have to help me out here.”

“Ned, we are in the south. And Sunspear has an ice hockey team.”

“Everything’s south to you, Stark. Plus we only got a hockey team five years ago. Point still stands, the game?”

“What do you want to know? Ask and I’ll answer.” A small huff of laughter to her right causes her to look over quickly. The man in the suit is looking at her directly, a grin on twitching at the corners of his full lips. She furrows her brows for a moment at him before turning her focus back to Ned and the ice, a brief grumble in her mind that he was laughing at her. “Girls know sports too, stupid,” she thinks before putting him out of her mind.

The first period is uneventful, not even a fight on the ice to liven things up. The score stands at zero-zero. Of course, the one game she can attend would be boring. During the intermission they make their way to the concession stand, Ned grabbing another beer and Arya getting water and some Twizzlers, her favorite hockey game snack from when she was a child. One their way back to their seat she notices the dark haired man in the suit is no longer alone, another man in an equally nice suit has joined him. He’s tall and thin with curly red hair and also looks familiar, but she can’t quite place either one of them.

Not even three minutes have passed in the second period when one of the Lannisport Lions slams a Lightning player into the boards. The crowd boos as the player lays on the ice for a moment to catch his breath before shakily getting back to his skates, the boos get even louder when the referees don’t call a penalty.

“Oh come on!” Arya shouts as she stands, throwing her arms in the air, “that’s boarding!”

“What’s boarding?” Ned asks.

“It’s when a player pushes another into the glass unnecessarily rough. It’s a five minute penalty for the Lions but these refs just screwed us out of that opportunity for a power play.”

A deep voice from her right comments, “It would’ve only been a minor.”

She turns to see both men looking at her, a pair of blue eyes twinkling from under the fall of dark hair.

“A minor?” she challenges, “he was almost unconscious!”

“Yeah, but he’s not bleeding,” Blue Eyes grins at her. She stares him for a moment before glancing back at his red haired friend to see him grinning as well. She gives them a curt nod before turning her focus back to the game.

“What’s his problem?” Ned murmurs. Arya just shakes her head.

By the end of the second period the Lightning are down by two.

“Sorry,” Ned says as they watch the Zamboni chug around the rink. The little pigtailed girl in front of them is asleep against her father’s arm.

“What for?” Arya asks.

“For the game being a crappy one,” he smiles at her, and she smiles back.

“You can’t tell the future Ned, so don’t apologize. I’m very happy to be here. I haven’t been able to go to a hockey game in a few years.” Arya hasn’t been able to make it home to Winterfell since she started her Master’s program and the Winterfell Wolves haven’t played the Storm’s End Lightning in Storm’s End at a time when she wasn’t drowning in exams, papers, and work. Not even the chance to see Robb on the ice could manage to pull her away from the pressing demands and deadlines of her job and school work as much as she would have loved to go.

The third period starts and five minutes in the Lions score another goal. That’s when the Lightning forget about playing to win and start playing for revenge. The first instance comes in a small skirmish that results in minor, two minute, penalties for both teams. As soon as those are over another skirmish breaks out, this time turning into an all out brawl.

“Kick his ass!” Arya yells, standing and cheering as helmets and gloves go flying and sticks are dropped to the ice. Ned looks taken aback by the sudden outburst of violence from her.

“You like the fights?” he asks.

“Like? Are you kidding, they’re the best part!” She shouts again as the Lightning player finally gets the upper-hand and sends the Lion skidding across the ice.

“It’s a shame Waters isn’t playing tonight.” Arya turns to her right to see the redheaded man grinning up at her. The dark haired man beside him is giving him an inscrutable look.

She sighs internally and takes the bait, “And why is that?”

“He would have had Marbrand knocked out in half the time. Lemoncloak isn’t nearly as good at fighting as Waters is.”

Arya scoffs, “Lemoncloak might not be as good at fighting, but at least he’s not an absolute asshole like Waters is. Have you ever seen how he fights? I mean, I’m all for getting down and dirty on the ice but there’s a line and he crosses it every time. It’s like he gets off on it,” she says, making an obscene jerking motion with her hand. “There’s a reason the fans chant “Ice Cold” when he takes the ice.”

The two men share a look and a smile. “What? You disagree?” Arya asks.

“Well, I disagree,” the dark haired man replies, “but it’s nice to know what other people think.”

Arya raises an eyebrow at him before turning her attention back to Lemoncloak and Marbrand being ejected from the game. When it’s all over Storm’s End has lost 4-1. Arya sighs as she and Ned pick up their trash to toss on their way out. She notices an odd look on Ned’s face and turns to see the dark haired man standing right behind her, towering over her.

“Is it a habit of yours to hover behind people?” she asks, looking up and up his firm chest to meet his icy blue eyes. She hadn’t quite realized how tall he was folded into the stadium chair near her.

“Just the ones I find interesting,” Arya narrows her eyes at him as he sticks out his hand, “I thought we should meet properly. Gendry Waters, left defenseman, ‘the guy who gets off on fighting’.”

Arya blushes furiously, swallowing hard and fumbling for a second as she puts her small hand into his massive one, “Arya,” she grits out, “and I’m sorry about that. If I had known…”

“You would have kept it to yourself? Where’s the fun in that?” He grins at her, perfect white teeth glinting in the arena lights. He must be fucking with her, she thinks.

“Okaaaay… This is sufficiently awkward. I’m going to go,” she pulls her hand free to gesture over her shoulder to where Ned is probably standing staring at the two of them. She had temporarily forgotten there were people around. Her hand feels cold for a moment without his warm palm around hers.

“Wait,” Gendry says, “this asshole is Anguy Archer, right wing.”

“Hi,” she says, waving awkwardly. The redhead flashes her a bright smile and a wave.

“We’re gonna go out with the guys and get a beer. Would you like to join us?” Gendry asks.

Her heart races for a moment. She’s intrigued by this man in front of her, but she came here with Ned, it would be insanely rude to ditch him.

“Your boyfriend can come too,” Anguy pipes up from behind Gendry’s massive shoulders.

“Oh, he’s, he’s not my boyfriend, we’re coworkers,” she says entirely too fast. The smile that breaks out across Gendry’s face makes her blush again.

He leans down so only she can hear him, the smoky leather smell of his cologne washing over her and making her dizzy, “That’s good to hear.” As his breath whispers across her ear a wave of goosebumps erupts across her arms. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, feeling very shy all of a sudden. He smiles at her one more time before turning to walk away. She fights down the urge to call out to him and turns back to Ned.

Over her shoulder she hears Gendry one more time, “If you change your mind we’ll be at Seaworth’s on the waterfront.” She glances back to see him give her a half smile that makes her insides squirm before he turns and walks away. She keeps her eyes on him as he goes, taking in the stretch of his suit jacket over his shoulders, his firm athlete’s ass, and the long stretch of his well muscled legs that his suit pants only highlight.

Ned awkwardly clears his throat.

“Sorry,” she says, “That was weird, right? I just… uh…”

“Yeah,” Ned drags the word out, “he seemed a little… friendly.”

“Uh, sure. Very friendly.”

“Did you want to go? We can if you want to?”

Arya thinks about it for the moment, Gendry’s dizzying blue eyes and enticing smell drift across her mind. The thought of sitting in a dark pub booth with him, his large, warm hand on her knee under the table. She reigns it in before the thought gets too far.

“No, no. Let’s just go. I have some edits to make on a paper when I get home anyway.”

She saves for a single ticket. It takes her over a month to set enough aside. She’s not sitting in the cheap seats this time, she wants to be rinkside where he could see her, to see if there was something there. If he recognized her she would take it as a sign She spent almost half an hour staring at the seat map when she went to buy her ticket before deciding that directly across from the player’s bench was where she needed to be. She prays that he’ll be playing against Oldtown tonight, since he’s fresh off a three game suspension. She puts on some light makeup, throws on her Lightning sweatshirt, and makes her way to the stadium.

The lights dim, the music starts, and she holds her breath as the players make their way onto the ice. She smiles when she sees him suited up in the dark blue Lightning jersey, his eyes piercing even from across the ice. This is going to be a good night. When the announcers call out the opening line-up she chants, “Ice cold! Ice cold!” with the rest of the crowd when his name is called for Left Defenseman.

She doesn’t pay much attention to the game, just to the dark haired man with the blue eyes. She finds herself watching his every move, calculating hits like he does, cheering when he does his job clearing the puck from near the Lightning goal and using his massive frame to keep the Oldtown center at bay.

Two periods pass with the Lightning up 2-1. He’s not even so much as looked up into the stands in that time. Maybe this was a bad idea, she thinks, and she should have gotten a ticket closer to the bench. She could have tried to yell over the glass at him then. But it would have taken her weeks longer to save enough to sit there, and to finagle time in her busy schedule to come.

He makes his way onto the ice again, and she watches as he does what he does best, blocking the other team’s offense from scoring a goal. What no one expected was for the play to shift quickly to the other end of the ice. The puck finds its way in front of his stick and with a practiced flick of his wrist it bounces off an Oldtown defensemen’s skate and into the goal, earning a point for Storm’s End.

She jumps from her seat, screaming with the rest of the crowd as he looks on in shock. It’s not his job to score and she can see the surprise written across his face. His teammates skate to him to congratulate him, and for the first time all night he looks up into the crowd, right into her grey eyes. Their eyes lock and her breath catches in her throat as the noise of the arena fades away. He smiles that half smile around his mouthguard as gloves smack his helmet and back but he doesn’t seem to notice. He makes his way back to the bench, not taking his eyes off her for the rest of the game. She can barely look away to the rest of the game either.

At the end of the game he skates onto the ice, over to the edge where she is waiting to make her own way to the boards. A few kids pound on the glass at him and he responds by slapping into the boards at them. They holler and laugh and she can tell it’s made their night. When the crowds finally thin she makes her way to him and gives him a big smile, he grins back, his mouthguard hanging free and giving her the full effect.

“Seaworth’s?” he yells through the glass to her, and she nods. “Thirty minutes,” he shouts again, taking off his glove and holding up three fingers. She nods again, smiling, and watches him skate off the ice.

Her heart pounds nervously as she stands outside the pub. She’d never been here before but had looked it up after he’d mentioned it at the last game. The owner of the pub had a long history with the Storm’s End hockey team and it wasn’t unusual to find several large, sweaty hockey players there after their games according to the internet. She only wanted to find one large, sweaty hockey player and it looked like she was in luck.

She notices Anguy first, and he gives her a knowing smile as he walks to the door, “Couldn’t resist some Ice Cold Waters?” he says, winking as he pulls the door to the pub open. She resists the urge to check him into the doorframe as he passes her.

“Hey.” She turns to see Gendry, standing behind her, a wide grin on his face as his dark, damp hair curls around his ears, his blue eyes shining in the dim street light.

“Hi,” she says quietly. He stares at her for a long moment before gesturing towards the door. They find the rest of the team crammed into several booths near the back celebrating their win, pitchers of beer and plates of food scattered between the tables. They squeeze in along an empty bench, thighs brushing beneath the table.

He leans in close to her, breath tickling her ear as he quietly says, “I have to ask. How come you didn’t recognize me?”

She turns to look at him, her nose nearly brushing his cheek with how close his face is to hers, “What do you mean?”

“At the first game. You clearly know your shit when it comes to hockey, so I was curious.”

She looks up into his eyes and he smiles at her. The smell of his cologne tickles her nose and she has to stop herself from climbing into his lap right there in front of his team.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like a neanderthal out there on the ice. Sweaty, testosterone fueled, black mouthguard, black eyes, broken noses, eye grease. I barely recognize my brother when he’s geared up and in the moment. You were… definitely not that that night. I was expecting at least some missing teeth or something. Also you looked distractingly nice in a suit, which totally threw me off.”

“I looked nice?”

Arya blushes and nods, leaning in close to him, “Very nice. I couldn’t help but stare at your arse as you walked away.”

Gendry raises a dark brow at her and gives her a very slow once over of what he can see of her on the pub bench next to him, his eyes darkening as he looks her over, mentally supplemented by what he saw as he approached her outside the pub. She’d ditched her Lightning sweatshirt in her car and was wearing a dark top and skinny jeans, a hint of pale skin peeking out from below the hem of her cropped shirt.

“You look nice too,” is all he manages to say, his voice barely a step above a growl.

Arya raises a challenging eyebrow back at him, “Thank you.”

Their attention is called away from each other but the electricity continues to spark between them as their hand brush grabbing for beer and bar snacks. They talk hockey with the team, Arya revealing that she roots for Storm’s End because she lives here but will always be a Winterfell Wolves girl at heart. She can’t help it, the north is in her blood and her brother Robb plays center for the team.

Gendry leans down to murmur in her ear at that, “So what happens when they play here?”

She glances at him from the corner of her eye and drops her hand high on his leg below the table, “I cheer for the Wolves, but I might cheer a bit for you too now.”

“Just me?”

A sly smile creeps across Arya’s face, “Just for you,” she squeezes his leg before removing her hand and deliberately reaches across him to spoon a bite of dip onto a cracker, her shoulder and back brushing his chest as he rumbles quietly and splays a warm hand across her back, a few of his fingers brushing her bare skin as her top shifts with her movement. She settles back and feels a flash of triumph as Gendry doesn’t move his hand.

Anguy catches her eye at one point and winks at her, nodding his head towards Gendry who has barely taken his eyes off her all night. She’d caught a few of his other teammates glancing between the two of them and giving each other knowing smiles and subtle elbows as they leave the two of them in their bubble.

Eventually Arya sees the time as someone’s phone lights up on the table. It was past 11pm and she has work in the morning and a class in the evening. “It’s getting late,” she says with a sigh, “I have to get going. I’ve had a long day and I have an even longer one tomorrow.”

Gendry’s hand briefly strokes her spine before he slides out from the edge of the bench. He reaches a hand down to her, the sparks they’d been feeling all night lighting up as they touch. Gently, he pulls her off the bench and into his space before taking half a step back and staring down at her, not dropping her hand. She squeezes his hand before lacing their fingers together. Turning back to the table she says her good-bye to the team members she’s spent the last few hours with and leads Gendry from the pub.

The street is cool and quiet after the closeness of Seaworth’s. Slowly they walk hand in hand to her car, Arya trying to stretch their remaining time together by digging in her bag for her keys. She’s enjoyed her evening and Gendry’s company and despite her long day tomorrow she isn’t ready for the night to end.

Gendry breaks the quiet, “I’m really glad you were able to come and we got to do this,” he says softly.

Arya sighs, “Me too.”

“Could we… Would you want to see each other again? Without those louts around thinking they’re being subtle?” There’s a hint of doubt in his voice, like he maybe thinks she only came out to the pub to meet the team. It’s adorable that he could possibly think she’d come out for the rest of those idiots and not for the idiot standing in front of her shuffling his feet nervously.

“I’d like that a lot,” she says, with a smile.

“Even if I’m that guy who ‘gets off on it’?” his sharp smile flashes in the light of the street.

Arya groans and covers her face with her free hand, “I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” he says, warmly. He steps closer to her, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off him, chasing away the cool, damp air of the Stormland’s night.

She looks up at him, his face is serious as he stares down at her, his blue eyes almost black in the street light. She’s caught in his gaze before her eyes drift down to his lips for just a moment before darting back up. He licks his lips and she wants nothing more than to feel them against her own. Feeling bolder than she ever has she stands on her tip-toes and presses her mouth to his. His arms wrap around her instantly and she runs a hand up his jaw to bury it in the hair at the back of his neck, her other braced on his chest over his racing heart as they kiss like their lives depend on it. Like the other is air and water and all those other life-giving requirements.

She lets out a soft sigh as she pulls away slowly, his mouth chasing hers as she drops back to her feet. Gendry’s arms stay wrapped around her, holding her tight against him as they stare at each other, chests heaving.

“Shit,” he says through panting breaths, and she giggles, “I mean, yeah. That was, yeah.” He nods vaguely, looking shell-shocked. He smiles down at her, a faint blush across his cheeks visible even in the low light.

Arya nods, “I agree. Wow.”

“You sure you have to go?” He keeps smiling at her as she groans and drops her head to his chest.

“Yes. I have work and class tomorrow and I do need to get some sleep tonight. But,” she lets go of him with one hand to dig in her bag again. With a small, triumphant, “Ha!” she pulls her phone out and unlocks it, pulling up the dial screen and hands it to him. He loosens one arm from around her to enter his number in, pressing send and hanging up when he feels his own phone buzz in his pocket. Arya returns her phone to her bag and pulls out the keys that were clipped to the strap on top the whole time. She unlocks her car and moves to step out of his arms. Gendry pulls her in for one final, fiery kiss before letting go of her and opening her car door for her.

“Arya?” he says, just before she closes it.

“Yeah?” she looks back at him, he’s tucked his hands into his pockets, his hair is in disarray from her fingers, and his lips look a little swollen. He’s never going to hear the end of it when he gets back to his teammates.

“I’m really glad you came out tonight.” He smiles one final, brilliant time as she closes the door and starts her car. He stays there on the sidewalk as she pulls out into the street and begins to make her way home. When she gets there she pulls out her phone and opens the most recent call to an unknown number. Pulling up the text box she types, “I’m really glad I came out tonight too”.

[elriell]

Thank you very much! I find it hard to cut them back and be less detailed to be honest. So let’s dive in to it, two quick points before we start;

There will be no hate here as every ship is valid, I simply going to explain why I believe Elriel is more likely to happen than Elucien. (IMO)

Secondly, if there’s one thing for certain with SJM it is that nothing is certain with her.

Of course like any reader I am nervous for what might happen but looking at it textually speaking I do not think we have much to worry about... Not to mention that if we look at SJM past behaviour we can extrapolate several things.

When Sarah falls in love with a character she is very willing to shift all plans to accommodate them, we have a good example of this with Rowan, once she began writing him she fell in love with him and Chaol was quickly pushed aside. I am sure she has done plenty of interviews saying as much from memory.

SJM Live

- Azriel has a lot of shit going on that we’re going to be able to see in this book.

- Azriel’s song is Mr. Brightside for the vibes. Not necessarily the lyrics. SJM is kinda obsessed with him and telling his story in the future.

- We’re getting to see more of Azriel’s cheeky humor in this one.

 - SJM can’t wait to see theories after everyone reads Azriel’s pov. There’s a lot of crumbs that have been scattered around for his journey.      [ref]

It is safe to say that in her own words Sarah is obsessed with Azriel, which gives us a good idea about who she wants to write about next. This is the same vibe we got off her when she was introducing Rowan to the TOG universe and I think it is a pretty easy assumption to believe the next book is Elain’s too.

Not to mention SJM is not afraid to shake it up and swap out the LI you think it will be, Chaol/Rowan & Tamlin/Rhysand. It is not far fetched to think she would do the same with Elain and Lucien. Not to mention the idea of such a repetitive story ARC like Mates (after Feysand and Nessian) could easily be avoided by doing something like a rejected-bond or second bond.  

I really could not tell you what I think Azriel’s ARC/what he is dealing with is because we have so little information on him all I know is I cannot wait to read it all. He is easily one of my favourite characters, he is so mysterious to us. 

I think Elain’s ARC is going to be all about choice. And we know from SJM that you can have more than one mate.

Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”“You belong to him.”“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

“to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

As far as I am concerned if you look at all SJM couples from all her books there is always that initial Spark™ and I think that impartially if you look at Elain and Lucien they have not had it at all (bar maybe the moment he scents the bond), Elain is completely disinterested in him. In the bond as a whole.

“if it wasn’t for Vassa.” A twitch of the lips, a spark in that russet eye. “She’s doing well enough. Savoring every second of her temporary freedom.”

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.

See? SPARK, literally and figuratively.

You could even argue that she was you know, really struggling at the time the bond snapped in to place so it wasn’t the time for them but then we are given Azriel as a mirror to the situation and we see despite her troubles she is capable of interacting with someone without disinterest. Can and has been attracted too, can smile and laugh with someone despite being upset over Graysen.

Examples;

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.”

“Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm.

“And do what?” “Spend time with her.” “I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.” His jaw worked as he studied the fire.”

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.

“You as well.” A sidelong glance toward Elain, swift and fleeting. “Both of you.” Elain said nothing, but at least she bowed her head in thanks.”

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.

“There were only a few presents left—Lucien’s. [...] I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.”

“You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.” Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.” 

“You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?” “It means nothing,” Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”“You belong to him.”“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

Again like I said, textually when we look at it all together Sarah is not exactly planting the seeds for them at all, now of course there is still time for that to change, and of course we only have a limited perspective but as a reader it doesn’t come across positively. Even if you consider Nessian who have been against each other from the start have had the seeds planted, even as they argued they had tension and emotion.

Sarah has given Elucien so little of anything positive or negative comparitively, it is like the are barely registered. 

Not to mention she puts across Azriel as a candidate time and time again, and as a writer you would not do that for nothing.

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.” “So is Azriel.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” “I’d keep that question from Lucien.” “I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

“What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

SJM is sowing doubt at every turn. Then to top it off we are introduced to Vassa through Lucien, and now we finally see him have a spark, blush, and speak of her with almost worship as Feyre points out.

“I …” Lucien fumbled for the words. Not out of some lie or excuse, I realized a moment later. Realized when he said, “I’ve been at the Spring Court every now and then. But if I’m not here in Velaris, I’ve mostly been staying with Jurian. And Vassa.”

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.” “You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” 

Now, I can understand the belief that Elucien could be endgame but you simply cannot deny that before that Elriel & LucienxVassa is going to have to be explored to a degree. 

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …”Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I …” Lucien fumbled for the words. Not out of some lie or excuse, I realized a moment later. Realized when he said, “I’ve been at the Spring Court every now and then. But if I’m not here in Velaris, I’ve mostly been staying with Jurian. And Vassa.”

We also see both couples paralleled. I mean in all honesty I could go on and on and on, there is so many qoutes that I could add but this will just get longer and longer. I am going to link my full Elriel Analysis, and some other stuff about them and rejecting the bond below.

As for our fox boy Lucien!

I really like him, and I do feel like he has a very interesting journey ahead, between his true paternity, Vassa and the mating bond he has a lot coming up for him. I am excited to see where the band of exhiles might take us, despite Feyre’s mockery I am excited that after so long of not belonging anywhere he may have found people to call his own.

Look if Elucien happens after a genuine build up, I will be happy to read their journey, of course I will be very disappointed for Elriel because I truly believe they are the best fit but I am not against Elucien if anything I think Sarah is, more than anyone else.

Like I said I could go on for years, and honestly in 9 days hopefully we have a better idea of the future to base our opinions on. 

I am tagging this Anti-Elucien, not that I feel it is but I don’t want Elucien shippers to have to see it, so if they blacklist the tag the can avoid the negativity ❤︎

[Elriel Meta] [Elriel Kindred Spirits] [Elriel Choice 1 & 2] [Garden] [Thoughts]

[manicr]

X-Factor: Daken

Since I did a development analysis on Daken in X-Men Blue, it feels only reasonable to do one for X-Factor, especially considering the the latest issue (#8). I had thoughts that I articulated in the tags, but I think I should try to put them together and look at Daken as a character in the whole of X-Factor.

Firstly, Daken isn’t recruited into the team, he persistently volunteers despite the objections of the team. He is presented passed out on the bar floor, drinking to deal with his feelings. Word of God states he’s depressive again and Laura being in the Vault is a big factor in that. Daken later confesses that he’s been “playing nice”, implying what he did was trying to be good and finding it a role, rather than natural.  His drive to join the team seems to be desperate to distract himself from his negative feelings, needing purpose and preoccupation.

However, very in-character, he excuses himself with flippant commentary, and the fact that he finds Aurora attractive:

He, as in XMB, makes himself useful to the team with his powers and instincts, despite them not being welcoming of his presence. He persists and tries to reach out to them, even if only a little, like he’s learned to do with his sisters and what we saw in XMB. He even calls them out on their bullshit against him, and tries to “be good”. The team still doesn’t trust him, and are bothered both by his flirtatiousness and his past villainy.

He actively pursues Aurora and gets himself thrown out of Mojo-verse, however his interest isn’t just romantic/sexual, but he wants to solve what happened to her when she died. He knows she’s not telling everything. He tries to be kind and reach out to her, not forcing her to say, but curious -- maybe having his own hypothesis on what happened. He knows something is off, and can’t let it go. Seems to care enough to want to help her.

Now were three issues in and Daken has been trying his best to help, reach out and fit into a team that is not very welcoming or accepting of him. Aurora is a fixed point of interest for him, and he tries especially with her. She seems flattered by the attention at this point.

Then the X of Swords event happens, essentially without Daken though he fights in the background, and we get our first major time-jump. That jump seems noticeable in text, as there seems to be a greater comfort and trust in the team as a whole, not just towards Daken.

At a party in the Boneyard, Daken talks with Polaris, trusting her enough to ask her if the kindness he sees is real It is, and it’s a bit of an alien concept to him still. He equates it with lack of intelligence “simple-mindedness” or faking it as an act to get ahead/mask whatevers beneath. Polaris mentions his childhood trauma.

Daken also takes some ribbing from Lorna regarding his past and glum attitude, but laughs it off, but we get some foreshadowing through it. Daken’s trauma regarding snow is tied together in XF, harking to a Dark Wolverine era trauma of him  as a child being forced to ‘train’ in snow by Romulus. It’ll repeat itself in XF again.

We also get to see a little of what Daken does on his spare time, drawing with charcoal: having finally found some other outlet than fighting, fucking and drinking for his feelings.

He also reaffirms his interest in Aurora, as well as his familial affection for Polaris. He shows off growth in being able to have different types of affection, to have family that he cares for when back in his own series he refused social bonds like family (in ref. to the Fantastic 4) and saw them as based on fear, social obligation, and naivete.

Themes of being trapped, trauma and abuse are repeated in XF by different characters -- it applies to all of them in different ways. The letter “Why didn’t you just leave?” that speaks of this.

It echoes trauma that Daken needed to deal with himself under Romulus control -- even when he was physically away from him. His character arch has been to find himself, and not just flippantly in his eat-prey-killing comment, but also a way out of the trauma of abuse and making himself ‘smaller’ lesser to fit with the living weapon Romulus wanted. To find and dare to feel, to feel worthy, and not fear some punishment from his abuser. Of course, this applies to so many characters in X-F, both sub-textually and directly like with Siryn and Shatterstar.

One of the major relationship changes now in the book is Daken and Northstar’s relationship. Northstar confides and trusts in Daken as a team-mate from previously having refused it. Daken in turn takes his orders and seems to want that trust:

This culminates in Northstar rescuing Daken when he was trapped and beaten by the Morrigan. And according to Aurora, Northstar is behaving towards Daken as a person he doesn’t want to lose, by yelling for him and checking on him. He explicitly cares for Daken now, even with the protectiveness he still feels for Aurora. The dying in the snow theme repeats it self.

Then there is Daken and Auroras long conversation about his powers, her feelings and his feelings. He reveals the limits of his skills and she insists on understanding, which seems to make him feel better about it. She empathizes with the burden of his skills, seeing the drawbacks.

There’s a lot of subtext regarding his relationship with his own powers, he outwardly uses them shamelessly but at the same time this implies that it’s far more fumbling, uncertain and emotionally harrowing for him. And that he’s willing to see that and feel that rather than see it as his right to do whatever or refuse his powers utterly.

The Morrigan fight is overlayed with a speech about trauma, highlighting how it directly relates to Daken. He’s traumatized. He’s been abused. He’s been rewired to be dysfunctional, to hide his pain and the suffering. And it makes him feel worthless, unloved, and that no one cares, has never cared.

Later, Daken acknowledges how poorly he felt, how helpless, and how suicidal it made him feel. Even if he thinks its hypnosis rather than his own real feelings. His description fit in with depression and trauma-related issues, the feeling over never reaching shore, of drowning, and helplessness combined with the negative-self talk, that no one cares, loves him, or will be there for him since he’s worthless and a burden. But also how he looks to Aurora for comfort to deal with that.

Generally this issue irons out issues of consent, the genuineness of both their feelings as well as Daken being more like a real friend and family member to the team, but also about revealing his trauma. To show that he is not alright, despite his flippant flirty exterior. He struggles with his past, his trauma and his feelings about himself, and the belief that he deserves to be loved, cared for and to belong. This is repeated in issue #8 which hammers these themes home once more. Daken is not alright, but he wants to be.

This is growth from early Daken who didn’t even want to admit to himself that he was abused and molded by Romulus, and using rage and hurting others as a way of dealing with his own feelings, as well as using others and himself because it didn’t matter, he didn’t and no one else did either.

The in the snow theme is repeated and his fervent desire to be saved, from everything, himself as well as everything and everyone that might harm him. He seems to believe that being loved by Aurora will save him. Which is not the healthiest approach to dealing with trauma but a very common one, latching onto other people, because he doesn’t yet have the sense of self or self-worth to believe in it unless someone else does too. This for most people a necessary step towards growing and getting better.

He also is still stuck in the abuse-trauma-victim cycle and blaming himself for being harmed, seeing that he’s somehow not being good enough and that’s why he’s being hurt. “I’ll be good” are the words of someone who has been hurt over and over again by someone who made them believe they somehow deserved it. That they were ‘bad’ and needed to be punished.

...then he is faced with the fact that he truly does believe this about himself, that he’s not over it, that he’s not yet free or saved from the feelings that the trauma left behind.

But then... he dies, self-sacrificing to save his team mates and the information they carry, knowingly risking up to a week of his memory and experiences. He uses Aurora as a morality pet, to prompt himself into action, excessive such even.

He is resurrected without the memory of any of this to the point BEFORE Northstar came for him. He knows he lost that. He knows from reports that he lost things, even if not the extent of it, and now the hurt and pain from DAYS in the snow is fresh again, without any help from Aurora to process it nor knowing for certain that she loves him, without being proved that his team cares and came for him in the end. He might now the latter in paper, but that’s not the same emotionally speaking.

So, he’s angry. He knows he’s lost things, he’s been hurt and killed. But he doesn’t have the comfort of resolving these things with his team like he did, not with his habit of hiding his pain, and feeling like a burden. So he fights instead.

So, where have we ended up at the end of issue #8 of X-Factor?

Daken has been accepted by his team, because of all of HIS hard work, reaching out and kindness

Daken has opened up about his powers and his suffering (though lost half of it to the mind transfer time gap)

He has established a relationship with Aurora with clear consent, affection, but not yet full transparency of their mutual pasts (again some lost from his perspective)

He is starting to realize that he’s not yet ‘over’ his own trauma and that he’ll need to continue working on it (some lost)

Daken isn’t a perfect character nor perfectly written, he was abused and shaped by that abuse and trauma into something vicious, that he didn’t dare change from for a long time. Instead he tried to enjoy it, to revel in it, rather than face the pain and grow. He hurt and killed a lot of people, including himself, and it’s takes years of development for him to start to grow past that old self. Getting away from Romulus was only the first step.

He needed people to make him see how fucked up he was and to motivate him to be better, from Johnny back in Dark Avengers, then Laura and Gabby, and then trying on his own, attaching to Donna for a while, before teaming up with the X-Men and then X-Factor and Aurora as support for himself. It’s pretty clear that on his own, he can’t do it, he needs help, support, structure and purpose -- as do the majority of people. I’d also recommend therapy, but he’s not there yet.

One day he might stand on his own feet when it comes to feeling good about himself and managing his own life. But right now he’s in a place where he needs a strong support system, not just his family and lovers but also friends.