#all the characters included in this survey:

[rotten-vivs]

Ultimate Life Series LGBT+ Headcanon Survey

The Life Series is a multi-seasonal Minecraft roleplay Youtube series that follows ∼15 creators in a fight to be the last one to survive. Due to the improvised series's nature, characters are open to fandom interpretation and headcanons. In this survey, we will find out the most common sexuality and gender character headcanons. 

This survey will close on Saturday, September 30th (check edit below), and the data will be posted a week afterward. All responses will be fully anonymous

(Edit: I decided to leave the survey open for 3 more days. The survey will close on Tuesday, October 3rd)

reblogging and sharing on different sites is welcomed and appreciated

[spshipstats]

To the anon that has sent in some suggested ships, since I can’t message you privately, may I ask that you (and anyone else looking to suggest ships) please do only one ship per ask? Additionally, I will not be including any ships between the adult characters for this survey so please do not suggest those!

[yeoldenews]

A Guide to Historically Accurate Regency-Era Names

I recently received a message from a historical romance writer asking if I knew any good resources for finding historically accurate Regency-era names for their characters.

Not knowing any off the top of my head, I dug around online a bit and found there really isn’t much out there. The vast majority of search results were Buzzfeed-style listicles which range from accurate-adjacent to really, really, really bad.

I did find a few blog posts with fairly decent name lists, but noticed that even these have very little indication as to each name’s relative popularity as those statistical breakdowns really don't exist.

I began writing up a response with this information, but then I (being a research addict who was currently snowed in after a blizzard) thought hey - if there aren’t any good resources out there why not make one myself?

As I lacked any compiled data to work from, I had to do my own data wrangling on this project. Due to this fact, I limited the scope to what I thought would be the most useful for writers who focus on this era, namely - people of a marriageable age living in the wealthiest areas of London.

So with this in mind - I went through period records and compiled the names of 25,000 couples who were married in the City of Westminster (which includes Mayfair, St. James and Hyde Park) between 1804 to 1821.

So let’s see what all that data tells us…

To begin - I think it’s hard for us in the modern world with our wide and varied abundance of first names to conceive of just how POPULAR popular names of the past were.

If you were to take a modern sample of 25-year-old (born in 1998) American women, the most common name would be Emily with 1.35% of the total population. If you were to add the next four most popular names (Hannah, Samantha, Sarah and Ashley) these top five names would bring you to 5.5% of the total population. (source: Social Security Administration)

If you were to do the same survey in Regency London - the most common name would be Mary with 19.2% of the population. Add the next four most popular names (Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah and Jane) and with just 5 names you would have covered 62% of all women.

To hit 62% of the population in the modern survey it would take the top 400 names.

The top five Regency men’s names (John, William, Thomas, James and George) have nearly identical statistics as the women’s names.

I struggled for the better part of a week with how to present my findings, as a big list in alphabetical order really fails to get across the popularity factor and also isn’t the most tumblr-compatible format. And then my YouTube homepage recommended a random video of someone ranking all the books they’d read last year - and so I present…

The Regency Name Popularity Tier List

The Tiers

S+ - 10% of the population or greater. There is no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. 52% of the population had one of these 7 names.

S - 2-10%. There is still no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. Names in this percentage range in the past have included Mary and William in the 1880s and Jennifer in the late 1970s (topped out at 4%).

A - 1-2%. The top five modern names usually fall in this range. Kids with these names would probably include their last initial in class to avoid confusion. (1998 examples: Emily, Sarah, Ashley, Michael, Christopher, Brandon.)

B - .3-1%. Very common names. Would fall in the top 50 modern names. You would most likely know at least 1 person with these names. (1998 examples: Jessica, Megan, Allison, Justin, Ryan, Eric)

C - .17-.3%. Common names. Would fall in the modern top 100. You would probably know someone with these names, or at least know of them. (1998 examples: Chloe, Grace, Vanessa, Sean, Spencer, Seth)

D - .06-.17%. Less common names. In the modern top 250. You may not personally know someone with these names, but you’re aware of them. (1998 examples: Faith, Cassidy, Summer, Griffin, Dustin, Colby)

E - .02-.06%. Uncommon names. You’re aware these are names, but they are not common. Unusual enough they may be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Calista, Skye, Precious, Fabian, Justice, Lorenzo)

F - .01-.02%. Rare names. You may have heard of these names, but you probably don’t know anyone with one. Extremely unusual, and would likely be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Emerald, Lourdes, Serenity, Dario, Tavian, Adonis)

G - Very rare names. There are only a handful of people with these names in the entire country. You’ve never met anyone with this name.

H - Virtually non-existent. Names that theoretically could have existed in the Regency period (their original source pre-dates the early 19th century) but I found fewer than five (and often no) period examples of them being used in Regency England. (Example names taken from romance novels and online Regency name lists.)

Just to once again reinforce how POPULAR popular names were before we get to the tier lists - statistically, in a ballroom of 100 people in Regency London: 80 would have names from tiers S+/S. An additional 15 people would have names from tiers A/B and C. 4 of the remaining 5 would have names from D/E. Only one would have a name from below tier E.

Women's Names

S+ Mary, Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah      

S - Jane, Mary Ann+, Hannah, Susannah, Margaret, Catherine, Martha, Charlotte, Maria

A - Frances, Harriet, Sophia, Eleanor, Rebecca

B - Alice, Amelia, Bridget~, Caroline, Eliza, Esther, Isabella, Louisa, Lucy, Lydia, Phoebe, Rachel, Susan

C - Ellen, Fanny*, Grace, Henrietta, Hester, Jemima, Matilda, Priscilla

D - Abigail, Agnes, Amy, Augusta, Barbara, Betsy*, Betty*, Cecilia, Christiana, Clarissa, Deborah, Diana, Dinah, Dorothy, Emily, Emma, Georgiana, Helen, Janet^, Joanna, Johanna, Judith, Julia, Kezia, Kitty*, Letitia, Nancy*, Ruth, Winifred>

E - Arabella, Celia, Charity, Clara, Cordelia, Dorcas, Eve, Georgina, Honor, Honora, Jennet^, Jessie*^, Joan, Joyce, Juliana, Juliet, Lavinia, Leah, Margery, Marian, Marianne, Marie, Mercy, Miriam, Naomi, Patience, Penelope, Philadelphia, Phillis, Prudence, Rhoda, Rosanna, Rose, Rosetta, Rosina, Sabina, Selina, Sylvia, Theodosia, Theresa

F - (selected) Alicia, Bethia, Euphemia, Frederica, Helena, Leonora, Mariana, Millicent, Mirah, Olivia, Philippa, Rosamund, Sybella, Tabitha, Temperance, Theophila, Thomasin, Tryphena, Ursula, Virtue, Wilhelmina

G - (selected) Adelaide, Alethia, Angelina, Cassandra, Cherry, Constance, Delilah, Dorinda, Drusilla, Eva, Happy, Jessica, Josephine, Laura, Minerva, Octavia, Parthenia, Theodora, Violet, Zipporah

H - Alberta, Alexandra, Amber, Ashley, Calliope, Calpurnia, Chloe, Cressida, Cynthia, Daisy, Daphne, Elaine, Eloise, Estella, Lilian, Lilias, Francesca, Gabriella, Genevieve, Gwendoline, Hermione, Hyacinth, Inez, Iris, Kathleen, Madeline, Maude, Melody, Portia, Seabright, Seraphina, Sienna, Verity

Men's Names

S+ John, William, Thomas

S - James, George, Joseph, Richard, Robert, Charles, Henry, Edward, Samuel

A - Benjamin, (Mother’s/Grandmother’s maiden name used as first name)#

B - Alexander^, Andrew, Daniel, David>, Edmund, Francis, Frederick, Isaac, Matthew, Michael, Patrick~, Peter, Philip, Stephen, Timothy

C - Abraham, Anthony, Christopher, Hugh>, Jeremiah, Jonathan, Nathaniel, Walter

D - Adam, Arthur, Bartholomew, Cornelius, Dennis, Evan>, Jacob, Job, Josiah, Joshua, Lawrence, Lewis, Luke, Mark, Martin, Moses, Nicholas, Owen>, Paul, Ralph, Simon

E - Aaron, Alfred, Allen, Ambrose, Amos, Archibald, Augustin, Augustus, Barnard, Barney, Bernard, Bryan, Caleb, Christian, Clement, Colin, Duncan^, Ebenezer, Edwin, Emanuel, Felix, Gabriel, Gerard, Gilbert, Giles, Griffith, Harry*, Herbert, Humphrey, Israel, Jabez, Jesse, Joel, Jonas, Lancelot, Matthias, Maurice, Miles, Oliver, Rees, Reuben, Roger, Rowland, Solomon, Theophilus, Valentine, Zachariah

F - (selected) Abel, Barnabus, Benedict, Connor, Elijah, Ernest, Gideon, Godfrey, Gregory, Hector, Horace, Horatio, Isaiah, Jasper, Levi, Marmaduke, Noah, Percival, Shadrach, Vincent

G - (selected) Albion, Darius, Christmas, Cleophas, Enoch, Ethelbert, Gavin, Griffin, Hercules, Hugo, Innocent, Justin, Maximilian, Methuselah, Peregrine, Phineas, Roland, Sebastian, Sylvester, Theodore, Titus, Zephaniah

H - Albinus, Americus, Cassian, Dominic, Eric, Milo, Rollo, Trevor, Tristan, Waldo, Xavier

# Men were sometimes given a family surname (most often their mother's or grandmother's maiden name) as their first name - the most famous example of this being Fitzwilliam Darcy. If you were to combine all surname-based first names as a single 'name' this is where the practice would rank.

*Rank as a given name, not a nickname

+If you count Mary Ann as a separate name from Mary - Mary would remain in S+ even without the Mary Anns included

~Primarily used by people of Irish descent

^Primarily used by people of Scottish descent

>Primarily used by people of Welsh descent

I was going to continue on and write about why Regency-era first names were so uniform, discuss historically accurate surnames, nicknames, and include a little guide to finding 'unique' names that are still historically accurate - but this post is already very, very long, so that will have to wait for a later date.

If anyone has any questions/comments/clarifications in the meantime feel free to message me.

Methodology notes: All data is from marriage records covering six parishes in the City of Westminster between 1804 and 1821. The total sample size was 50,950 individuals.

I chose marriage records rather than births/baptisms as I wanted to focus on individuals who were adults during the Regency era rather than newborns. I think many people make the mistake when researching historical names by using baby name data for the year their story takes place rather than 20 to 30 years prior, and I wanted to avoid that. If you are writing a story that takes place in 1930 you don’t want to research the top names for 1930, you need to be looking at 1910 or earlier if you are naming adult characters.

I combined (for my own sanity) names that are pronounced identically but have minor spelling differences: i.e. the data for Catherine also includes Catharines and Katherines, Susannah includes Susannas, Phoebe includes Phebes, etc.

The compound 'Mother's/Grandmother's maiden name used as first name' designation is an educated guesstimate based on what I recognized as known surnames, as I do not hate myself enough to go through 25,000+ individuals and confirm their mother's maiden names. So if the tally includes any individuals who just happened to be named Fitzroy/Hastings/Townsend/etc. because their parents liked the sound of it and not due to any familial relations - my bad.

I did a small comparative survey of 5,000 individuals in several rural communities in Rutland and Staffordshire (chosen because they had the cleanest data I could find and I was lazy) to see if there were any significant differences between urban and rural naming practices and found the results to be very similar. The most noticeable difference I observed was that the S+ tier names were even MORE popular in rural areas than in London. In Rutland between 1810 and 1820 Elizabeths comprised 21.4% of all brides vs. 15.3% in the London survey. All other S+ names also saw increases of between 1% and 6%. I also observed that the rural communities I surveyed saw a small, but noticeable and fairly consistent, increase in the use of names with Biblical origins.

Sources of the records I used for my survey: 

Ancestry.com. England & Wales Marriages, 1538-1988 [database on-line].

Ancestry.com. Westminster, London, England, Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1935 [database on-line].

[yuoimia]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ HEY, HANDSOME

summary: you’re shameless with your antics, and he hates loves it. characters: kinich & wanderer notes: fem + flirty reader, relationship is not established, but you’ve known each other for a while, wanderer’s is super short and messy bc i didn’t know how to execute my ideas well, wc: 580

kinich

“Are you free next week?”

Kinich glanced up from the base of the tree to where you sat casually on one of the thick branches. Sunlight streamed through its delicate leaves, spilling onto your hair, casting a familiar shadow he breathed in the first time you two met.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow, eyeing you with suspicion. “What do you mean?”

“What does she mean!? Are you STUPID-“

A momentary flash of yellow and green materialised for a split second, not without the usual explosive expressions, before being promptly booted with the irritated flick of Kinich’s right hand.

“Stop smirking,” he sighed, not coming out nearly as stern as he intended. “Out with it, and come down; my neck is starting to hurt,” he continued, turning away, trying to seem as composed as possible. Not now; he cannot be succumbing to nerves and sweaty palms. Why was his mind so foggy? Absolutely no helpful excuses formulated in case he faltered any further.

You let out a disappointed huff. “Fine,” Kinich could almost sense the roll of your eyes from the back of his head. “Make sure to catch me.”

“Wait-“

It happened in a split second, his arms subconsciously reaching out as you slipped down with no hesitation.

Almost instantly, words of disapproval (which included his typical empty threats that he seemed to forget within the next ten minutes) bombarded your ears as one arm held you from the back of your knees, another supporting your back. “Imagine if I didn’t catch you…you need to think before you do things…”

“But you did either way,” you shrugged nonchalantly at his frustrated face, enveloping an arm around his neck to rest your chin on his shoulder. “So…you free next week?” you whispered conspicuously, adjusting yourself to face him properly. “I’m running out of ideas for commissions, you know?”

And you swear you’re hallucinating. You swear you might actually be delusional.

“What if I told you,” he mused at the intimacy of the shared closeness. “That you never needed the commissions for my attention in the first place?” he responded, holding back a smile.

wanderer

“You look terrible.”

The unexpectedly rash comment causes him to jolt his head upright, his eyes instantly meeting the owner of the familiar voice and malicious remark. A strange feeling washes over his body as he relaxes his posture almost completely, careful to avoid seeming too relieved.

“Likewise,” he countered, scanning you with a look of supposed disinterest. Except he wasn’t disinterested at all, thoroughly noting down your appearance and mannerisms. Loose ends of your braid had fallen out of their original position, a vibrant rosy blush below your cheekbones, likely from exhaustion the way your chest rose quicker than usual.

“…likewise?!” you gaped incredulously, seizing a mirror from a pocket of your jacket.

You’re the one that told me I looked terrible.”

“You know I didn’t mean that at all.”

“And you know that, too.”

“You’re supposed to say that you’re tired and hungry,” you muttered disappointingly, fixing your braid in the matter of a few quick movements.

Confusion flooded his mind at the sharp diversions in conversation topics. “Why would I need to say that?” he replied slowly, surveying your face with greater interest and intent, as if thinking that if he stared hard enough, the deepest secrets of your mind would be magically revealed.

A victorious smile and wink adorned your face as you extended a hand. “So I can offer you lunch, handsome.”

[flufftober]

🍂 🍃 Hello and welcome to our fourth annual Flufftober 🍂 🍃

We’re so excited to be back and have you here once again!

As always, let’s fill the month of October with as much fluff as possible 🥰 for that to happen, you can either use our 31 regular prompts or enjoy a little challenge 😏

Below the cut, you'll find all our rules, posting info, and all the prompts in writing. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us an ask.

And now, for the challenge...

Prompt Extras

We love to see how many of you get inspired by our prompts every year - be it by the original list or the Prompt Extras. Once again we're offering you that option and you're more than welcome to replace prompts from the original list if they don't work for you for whatever reason - no explanation needed.

As has become tradition, we offer you last year's top five fan favorites (as voted in the end survey). In addition to that, we also offer a little challenge: five angsty prompts for you to turn fluffy!

If you don't want to replace any prompt from the original list but still love the additional ones - or you simply want to challenge yourself even further - you can also mix them all together!

So in whichever way you use these Prompt Extras, have fun with them and go wild 💚

We hope you like these prompts, and now

Happy Creating 🥳

Standard Blog Rules & FAQ

Addendum: We do not allow AI creations of any kind.

(Due to previous asks, we made sure to add more points to this section - while they're not new rules, they're newer to this list, so you'll find them colored green)

No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship. No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It's aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that has grey areas, the rule is this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalities of the world/society/times your characters live in.

No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.

Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.

There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.

In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gif sets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…). If you would like to create a podfic, the fic you're using does not have to be new - your creation will be new!

You can mix and mash different mediums however you like, be it within one prompt or on different days.

While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉 that, of course, doesn't mean you can't combine it with angsty/whumpy prompts - hurt/comfort is absolutely welcome!

You can start creating as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.

If you post early, we will schedule your post for the correct day; if you use multiple prompts in one creation, we will post on the earliest day you used.

You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.

You can replace as many original prompts as you like with our prompt extras; you can also combine them with the original prompts or create for them in addition, that's completely up to you.

It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts.

You do not have to stick to one character, ship, or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.

The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)

Original works as well as OCs in fandoms are welcome! But please make sure to mark these clearly, either in the tags or the post itself. We're not familiar with all fandoms (though we're definitely learning a lot!), so we're not always sure what might be an OC and what might be such an unknown side character not even Google can find them...

Reader insert fics (for example "character x reader") as well as RPFs are absolutely allowed.

Other languages are also welcome - just make sure to clearly mark the day and fandom so that we can still easily reblog.

This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.

Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months or years later.

All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.

Posting

Posting to tumblr

Please use the tag #flufftober2024 Please make sure there is NO SPACE between flufftober and 2024! We will NOT be checking the other tag this year!

Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also mention us with @flufftober in your post

We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late

If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post

To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #flufftober2024 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]

If you're using a prompt extra tag it as #alt [number]

Posting to ao3

You can add your creation to the collection Flufftober 2024 (either as flufftober2024 or as flufftober_2024)

Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like always, reblogs will become less regular the more months have passed...

Prompts

1. Lost Pet Meet Cute

2. “Left. Other left!”

3. Favorite Scent

4. Market Day

5. Acorn, Chestnut, Pine Cone

6. Mistaken Identity

7. Hoodie Weather

8. Chopping & Piling Wood

9. “Don’t do that!” - “But…”

10. Bet, Game, Contest

11. Ingredients & Spells

12. “This is spooky.” - “Really?”

13. Attic, Cellar, Hidden Room

14. Fantasy AU/Mundane AU

15. “What are you wearing?” - “It’s laundry day!”

16. Yes, No, Maybe

17. Only One Bed

18. Bewitched

19. Yarn

20. Paw

21. Bonfire

22. Heirloom

23. Stormy Night

24. Comfort Food

25. Haunted House

26. “I can’t find it.”

27. Afternoon Stroll

28. Lucky Charm

29. Time Capsule

30. “Forever?”

31. Make a Wish

Prompt Extras

Last Year's Favorites

Alt 1: “I’ve got you”

Alt 2: Rainy Day

Alt 3: “Wait you love me?” - “I always have”

Alt 4: “I hate it” - “No, you don’t”

Alt 5: Porch Swing

Challenge "Make it Fluffy!"

Alt 6: Gravestone

Alt 7: Getting Revenge

Alt 8: Written but never sent

Alt 9: Suddenly Severed Communication

Alt 10: Rejected, Betrayed, Exiled, Left Behind

[maladaptive-daydreaming-aphant]

✨ yippee!! ✨

congrats! due to the recent explosion in bracket-style poll tournaments, all the obscure/neglected media tags you follow are finally getting new posts! your favorite old blorbos are once again seeing the light of day!!

🚨 ...uh oh! 🚨

unfortunately, all of the aforementioned posts consist of your deeply beloved offbeat blorbos getting completely curb-stomped by [insert character here] from [insert literally any recent/popular fandom here] in what has inevitably turned out to be a popularity contest rather than the original point of the tournament! oops!

[dyaz-stories]

JUJUTSU BOYS + PDA

how the jjk boys are when you're in public with them

including: gojo, nanami, choso, yuuji, megumi, maki

word count: 3.6k (500-600 words for one character)

cw: intended as canon compliant, established relationships, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, public demonstrations of affection, can't think of anything else tbh

a/n: been reading some fics in this format so wanted to try my hand at it again. it's been years since I wrote short pieces like that, so I hope you'll enjoy them!

GOJO

Gojo has no concept of personal space, and that is something you had to get used to since you started dating — if anything, since before you started dating. Even when the two of you were at a more flirtatious stage, he’d always be leaning towards you to talk to you, face inches away from yours, hands on your hips if he needed to move past you, arm casually around you if you were sitting next to each other. It was all the better if it flustered you.

None of this has changed, except that he’s much more extra about it now. Holding your hand while walking? Nah, that’s boring. He’ll have his arm around your shoulders, even if it’s not convenient given the height difference. He’ll also try to put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, pout if you tell him not to do it. If you’re waiting in line with him, he has both of his arms around you, is resting his chin on top of your head, and wants nothing more than for you to lean back into his chest, relaxing into his embrace. You can both be doing totally unrelated things — you’re reading and he’s checking his phone — but you’re slotted against each other, and that’s how it is ideally for you.

You’re waiting for him to show up to your date when you feel yourself surrounded by familiar arms, and then his cheek is pressing against yours as he surveys the book you’re holding in your hands.

“Whatch’ya reading?” he asks, breath warm against your cheek.

“Just doing some research on emerging curses,” you say with a shrug as you close it and put it in your bag. “So, did you want to check out that new bakery?”

He hums in reply, and you wait for him to move so you can start walking.

He doesn’t.

“…do you plan on letting go of me?” you ask after a while, turning your head to look at him.

He pouts at you, inches away from your face.

“I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet…”

“We’re in public, Satoru,” you say, feeling your face heating up.

“So? Let ‘em stare. They might as well, if you ask me.”

You want to roll your eyes — one day, you’ll have to talk about that exhibitionist streak of his — but in the meantime, you just have to crane your neck a little to peck his lips. They’re soft, as always, and he follows greedily when you pull away, his hand coming up to tilt your chin up gently as he presses more kisses on the corner of your lips, then on your cheek.

“You’re impossible,” you say, badly hiding your laughter. “Let’s go, or we won’t make it to closing time. You’re late, by the way.”

He lets out a heartbroken sigh, but finally frees you, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you start walking towards the bakery. He keeps his strides short, so you don’t have to run to keep up with him, instead allowing you to keep a comfortable pace.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m just too good at my job, they can never get enough of me.”

“Aw, poor darling,” you say. You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and bring it to your lips to press a kiss on the back.

He lets out a cough that doesn’t do much to disguise the fact that he’s getting flustered, and you grin, satisfied. Two can play that game.

Fortunately, neither Satoru nor you have any intention of forfeiting any time soon.

NANAMI

Nanami is a private man. There is no reason for the whole world to know his business, and he doesn’t feel the need to put his relationship on display for everyone to see. His softness for you is still plain to see in how gentle his voice gets when he speaks to you, in how carefully he chooses his words, in how fond his eyes are when he listens to you tell him about your day. He knows you like him holding your hand, though, so he’ll indulge you, especially when you’re walking by his side through crowded streets.

That is for practical reasons, of course. First, it just wouldn’t do to lose sight of you. Second, people tend to steer clear of him, his serious expression and his broad frame, and that means they realize quickly to steer clear of you. It has nothing to do with how soft your hand is in his, or how the way you use your thumb to stroke his skin sends shivers down his back.

“That’s a lovely restaurant,” you comment, eyes drinking in the elegant decor while Nanami is examining the menu.

“It had excellent reviews,” he answers, not going into details as to the great lengths he’d gone to in order to ensure that this date was as perfect as humanly possible.

“I’ve been in the neighborhood so many times, and I had no idea this was here,” you say. The place is very small, only a handful of tables, all of them now filled. You’re sharing an alcove with Nanami, creating some distance with other customers.

“There aren’t many tables available, so they don’t advertise much,” he explains as he sets the menu down. “But they’re known for their excellent cuisine.”

You give him a smile, then lean closer to him to kiss him on the cheek. Your lips linger just a little too long, and then you move them close to his ear, which is already turning quite red.

“Thank you for planning all that,” you say sweetly. “It looks wonderful.”

He clears his throat when you pull away, avoiding your eyes.

“Of course,” he answers, voice wavering imperceptibly. “Anything for you.”

And you know he means it, too.

Under the table, his hand finds your leg, large palm easily covering your knee while calloused fingers carefully rub your calf. You bite your lip, welcome the warmth that spreads in your body. You know Kento well enough to be sure that that’s as far as he’ll go, that he wouldn’t dare to do anything more in such a public setting, and that makes you enjoy the intimacy of the gesture all the more.

Later that night, while the two of you are walking out, his jacket is around your shoulder at his insistence — “It’s cold outside” — and he’s getting ready to call a taxi.

“Kento?”

He lowers the phone to look at you, and you push yourself on your tiptoe, hand closing around his tie to pull him down towards you.

It’s late at night, he tells himself. There’s no one around, he tells himself. That’s why he closes his eyes and allows himself to melt into the kiss, regretting it when you pull away too soon and catching himself before he grabs you by the hips to get you closer to him.

“I had a great evening,” you say. “Should we take this to somewhere more private?”

How much more merciless can you get?

“Certainly,” he says. “Just give me a second.”

There is nothing he can deny you.

CHOSO

Choso cannot wrap his head around what he can and cannot do around you. The rules for what is proper, what is acceptable, have shifted so much since he was last around, and he would die before he embarrassed you — or worse, before he did something that would make you push him away. He knows that you wouldn’t, and yet the fear is like a weight that tugs on his heart every time he thinks about it. He walks by your side, glancing at your hand that’s freely hanging between the two of you, and though he brushes his knuckles against yours, he just cannot bring himself to do it. It’s to the point where it’s the only thing he’s thinking about — and he just can’t do it.

Then you see something that catches your eye and you grab his hand and pull him with you in that direction, and he thinks his heart could just fall out of his chest. You make it look so easy, so natural, being with him coming as easy to you as breathing, and he couldn’t possibly ask for more. It takes him many other tries, many other dates, before he can take your hand in his. When he does, you glance down in surprise, then grin at him, and kiss his knuckles softly — and he’s so happy he could die.

“So,” you say, sitting on the park bench, knee pressed against his while you’re leaning into him to show him your phone, your hair tickling his neck, “that’s the movies they have on tonight. Think we should call Yuuji to ask him what to watch?”

“Hm,” Choso says, not really focusing on anything you’re talking about, not when you’re this close to him, “isn’t— isn’t that the one franchise he’s always talking about?”

You burst out laughing, then rest your head on his shoulder.

“No offense, babe, but there is no one in the world I’d go see a Human Earthworm movie for. Even if this one is supposed to have romance in it,” you shudder at the thought, “I’d like to go see something actually. You know. Watchable.”

Choso’s mind is going in overdrive. You’re so close, and he knows he should have gotten used to this by now. He isn’t usually like this, but some passers-by are looking — not necessarily being judgmental, though there was an old lady earlier who scoffed and shook her head, but… looking.

“Then I don’t know if Yuuji is going to be much help,” he manages to say as you keep scrolling on the cinema’s website.

“That’s fair,” you sigh, standing up from the bench, and even if he can now think again, he misses your warmth and your smell right away. “Well, maybe we drop the movie and just go get something to eat, what do you say?

“Sounds good,” he answers, standing up after you.

Hesitantly, almost clumsily, he reaches for your hand, fingertips brushing against your thigh as he does, then tightens his grip around your palm, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip away from you. You give him a fond smile, then take a step to get closer to him, and kiss him gently. His breath hitches, and his eyes dart around the mostly empty park.

“T-there’s people around,” he says quietly, and he hates that you step back to look around.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”

He takes your hand to pull you with him, and you follow him through the grass as he finds a more secluded spot, behind a tree.

“There,” he says, and you chuckle at how satisfied with himself he sounds.

“Oh Choso,” you coo, leaning against the tree while you grab his shirt to pull him down towards you. His mouth is warm, eager, and his cheeks remain a fierce shade of red as he kisses you back insistently.

You would have missed the beginning of the movie anyway.

YUUJI

The thing about Yuuji is that any type of public demonstration of affection feels so natural coming from him. It’s almost never meant to be suggestive, it’s not something he thinks through, it’s just something he does. You’ll be sitting with Nobara when he appears, and he just puts his arm around you while talking to her, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You’re walking with him when he lifts his head up like he’s forgotten something, and what he forgot was to hold your hand, silly him.

If you walk by him while he’s sitting, he’ll grab your hips to pull you in his laps, fingers rubbing circles on the skin of your arms, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers as he holds your hand. After all, why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t even realize that it flusters you, and it just feels so natural for him to show his affection like that. He’ll look at you with stars in his eyes while you speak, not seeming to realize that his face is so close to him while you’re sitting in his lap.

No one pays attention to it anymore. You arrive just as Nobara is starting the movie — she’s putting on an action movie, thank you very much, even if Gojo just bought the collector edition of Human Earthworm 4 for Yuuji, with the director’s cut — and with all the students crammed in the room, including Panda, who’s taking most of the space on the couch, there’s nowhere left for you to sit.

“Come here,” Yuuji says cheerfully, waving you towards the armchair where he’s found his spot, “it’s about to start.”

You glance around the room for a reaction, but no one is paying you any mind. You walk over to him, perching yourself on one of the arms, legs over his. He doesn’t seem puzzled by it, just puts an arm around your waist casually.

Of course, you end up still sitting in his lap eventually, just slipping in it at some point in the movie. Can you be blamed? He’s warm and comfortable, and he wraps both arms around you so he can tuck his chin in the crook of your shoulder, nose brushing against your cheek when he turns his head. Not that he seems to notice how it makes your pulse quickens, eyes focused on the movie.

“What are the themes even supposed to be,” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance.

“’Military good’?” you suggest quietly as a guy gets blown up on screen.

“The first half of the movie was about military bad,” he protests. “They can’t just act like that never existed.”

“Would you two shut up,” Nobara shouts from her spot, “or Maki will come beat you up!”

The two of you pipe down, knowing the threat is very serious and not one to take lightly.

When the movie ends, everyone gets up, stretching, but you’ve gotten comfortable against Yuuji’s chest, and you don’t feel like doing that just yet.

“That was terrible,” Yuuji comments, and you let out a brief laugh. Gojo has somehow made a cinephile out of him, and you love how worked up he gets over that stuff.

“Yeah, we should have been watching Human Earthworm 4 instead,” you say.

“Exact— oh, you’re making fun of him.”

You giggle, then tilt your head to kiss him. For a second, he freezes, eyes going wide. Kissing is the one thing he rarely initiates — but when you do, you get to see his gaze soften, before his whole body goes soft. His hold on your waist tightens — and then a pillow thrown with impressive precision hits him, and only him, on the ear.

“Not in public,” Maki shouts from all the way into the kitchen.

“Hey,” your boyfriend protests, “I’m not the one who—”

“You’re such a traitor,” you gasp, struggling to pull yourself free from his arms — but it’s no use against his strength, and he refuses to let go.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he says. “Now, where were we?”

You might have been at fault for the first pillow, but that second one is all on him, as far as you’re concerned.

MEGUMI

Megumi is a private guy. He can be affectionate in public, but there is a side of him that he only wants you to see. He especially doesn’t want any of your nosy friends, or worse, his adoptive dad to see how he can be around you. They would never stop teasing him after, and he doesn’t think he could live with that.

Or that they could live with that. Because he’d kill them.

It does annoy him that he’s supposed to deny himself because of them. If it was up to him, he’d spend most of his time alone with you, preferably in a small house in the middle of a forest with no one around, no curses, no sorcerers, no nothing. That, sadly, isn’t an option though, so he has to find his own way to do things.

“Don’t move,” he says sternly. “You have something on your face.”

You roll your eyes, but tilt your head up towards him, as he carefully runs his thumb under your eye, then over your cheek, blowing on it once it’s done.

“What was it?” you ask.

“Just an eyelash,” he says with a shrug. “You’re good now.”

You study him, waiting for him to give something away, but he doesn’t, just staring at you with the same expression he always wears.

“Should we get going?” he asks. “I thought we were supposed to catch a movie.”

“Sure,” you relent. “We should get moving.”

The streets are quite full at this time of the day, and you have to step aside frequently to let people pass, sometimes losing sight of Megumi. Eventually, with a sigh, he grabs your hand, pulling you with him as he walks, sending murderous glares to anyone who stays in his path.

“You’re going to get lost at this rate,” he mutters as he pulls you with him.

“I mean, worst case scenario we meet back at the theater,” you say, and you grin at the offended look he gives you. He notices it, but doesn’t answer, a light pink dusting his cheek as he glances away.

He hates the idea of being away from you on a day that’s supposed to be about the two of you — but since he refuses to say the quiet part out loud, you get to tease him all you want.

To be fair to him, having Megumi as your scary guard dog does make it much easier and much faster to reach the theater. He gives you a pointed look when you get there, and, to your regret, lets go of your hand quickly, though his touch lingers there a second longer than necessary.

“Should we get a couple seat?” you ask innocently as you approach the register.

Megumi glares at you once more while you give him a sweet smile.

“It’s better that way, right?” he says, clearing his throat. “Otherwise strangers might have to share one.”

“Sure,” you nod, not even bothering to hide your grin. “It’s just more practical, right?”

“Right,” he says stiffly.

Even once you are in the couple seat, he keeps a thoroughly appropriate distance from you, one that you might find a little hurtful if, at the end of the commercials, he didn’t fake a yawn to put his arm around you, in the least smooth way known to man.

“You know you can just do it,” you say quietly as the lights turn off, resting your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go through all that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles.

Reaching for his face, you tilt his head towards you, and push yourself to meet his lips for a sweet, soft kiss. For the first time since you’ve stepped foot outside, his whole body relaxes into yours, and he stops trying to pretend.

“You had something on your lips,” you whisper when you pull away.

He snorts, then quickly goes back in to steal one more kiss from you before the movie starts.

“Liar,” he says.

As if he’s one to talk.

MAKI

Maki isn’t a demonstrative person as a general rule. She does compliment you without hesitation, words falling from her mouth so genuinely that it never fails to fluster you, but physical demonstrations of affection don’t come easy to her, maybe because she received so little of it as a kid. She does it sporadically, and she does very much enjoy teasing you, loves knowing that she can get those reactions out of you.

It’s the more spontaneous gestures that get to you though. She’ll kiss your forehead after a battle that left you bruised, a way of comforting you. She’ll pat your head after you managed to pull an impressive move during training. On one occasion, when you got injured, she carried you in your arms to Shoko, demanding that you be taken care of right this instant. She’d been the one to get flustered after that, hiding her face in her hand in embarrassment when it was brought up later on.

It might not come easy to her, but she does love it when you do it — when you show her your love in that way.

“You’re late,” she scolds you when you reach her for one of your dates, needing to take a second to catch your breath because you’ve been running since getting out of the subway.

“Sorry,” you say between deep breaths, “there was an emergency.”

Worry flashes on her face immediately.

“A curse? Were you hurt?”

She reaches for you, tilting your face towards her as she examines it, then study your body to make sure you weren’t injured. You let her, surprised at first, then endeared.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she frowns once she realizes how soft your gaze has become.

You grin, then push yourself closer to kiss her. You don’t care that you’re in public, and though it wouldn’t have occurred to her to do it, neither does she. The kiss is sweet, gentle. I’m alive, you’re alive, it says. No need for more.

“See?” you ask cheerfully. “All good. Now, I’m pretty sure you were going to buy me dinner…”

She clicks her tongue, but she’s grinning. It’s nice to see her so at ease, so relaxed. It’s a side of her you’d never see within the walls of Jujutsu High, nor on a mission. You’re the only one that can bring it out of her, and man do you love it.

“I’m buying? Again?”

“I did almost just die.”

“Nice try, but you told me you were fine.”

“I’m fine now,” you insist, “but…”

“Well, I was disowned by my family, so I don’t have money. You’re buying.”

The two of you keep bickering, but, as you walk, you reach for her hand. She pulls away at first, years and years of reflexes kicking in instinctively, and once she realizes what you were doing, she’s the one who takes your hand in hers. She holds it delicately, careful not to break it — to be fair, her strength would probably allow her that.

It’s so sweet and light, being out there with you like that. So normal. She hopes it never ends.

You squeeze her hand, and she lets you guide her across the street, content with just following, knowing that she can trust you to fill in her shortcomings in the relationship, like she does it for yours.

The sky is grey, the forecast said it might run later tonight — Maki’s planned an umbrella, she’s sure you didn’t think of it — but as far as she’s concerned, the day is as beautiful as it could possibly be.

this is my first time writing for... pretty much everyone here except gojo lol. i hope you enjoyed it and that the characterization wasn't too off, but any feedback is welcome! if you want to support me and my writing, please reblog/leave a comment or send me an ask, i'd love to chat! i'll see you later for some more jjk writing ^-^

you can find my gojo x reader work here

[deception-united]

Online Writing Resources #2

Vocabulary:

Tip of My Tongue: I find this very helpful when I can't think of a specific word I'm looking for. Which is often.

WordHippo: As well as a thesaurus, this website also provides antonyms, definitions, rhymes, sentences that use a particular word, translations, pronunciations, and word forms.

OneLook: Find definitions, synonyms, antonyms, and related words. Allows you to search in specific categories.

YourDictionary: This website is a dictionary and thesaurus, and helps with grammar, vocabulary, and usage.

Information/Research:

Crime Reads: Covers crime and thriller movies, books, and TV shows. Great inspiration before writing a crime scene or story in this genre.

Havocscope: Black market information, including pricing, market value, and sources.

Climate Comparison: Compares the climates of two countries, or parts of the country, with each other.

Food Timeline: Centuries worth of information about food, and what people ate in different time periods.

Refseek: Information about literally anything. Provides links to other sources relevant to your search.

Perplexity AI: Uses information from the internet to answer any questions you have, summarises the key points, suggests relevant or similar searches, and links the sources used.

Planning/Worldbuilding:

One Stop for Writers: Literally everything a writer could need, all in one place: description thesaurus, character builder, story maps, scene maps, timelines, worldbuilding surveys, idea generators, templates, tutorials... all of it.

World Anvil: Provides worldbuilding templates and lets you create interactive maps, chronicles, timelines, whiteboards, family trees, charts, and interactive tables. May be a bit complicated to navigate at first, but the features are incredibly useful.

Inkarnate: This is a fantasy map maker where you can make maps for your world, regions, cities, interiors, or battles.

Miscellaneous:

750words: Helps build the habit of writing daily (about three pages). Fully private. It also tracks your progress and mindset while writing.

BetaBooks: Allows you to share your manuscript with your beta readers. You can see who is reading, how far they've read, and feedback.

Readable: Helps you to measure and improve the readability of your writing and make readers more engaged.

ZenPen: A minimalist writing page that blocks any distractions and helps improve your focus. You can make it full screen, invert the colours, and set a word count goal.

QueryTracker: Helps you find a literary agent for your book.

Lulu: Self-publish your book!

See my previous post with more:

Drop any other resources you like to use in the comments! Happy writing ❤

Previous | Next

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Down Home 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The world's most famous heroes walk into a small town diner and change your life.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Because of this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all to Jupiter and back. Take care. 💖

It’s a slow day. Every day is slow out in Tumble Down. The township’s name tells the whole story. Everything there is in decline. It’s hard to imagine there was ever a time when the people weren’t tiny and forgotten in the hubbub of the bigger world. Since the mines closed and the canning factory was outsourced, it feels even smaller. 

Smaller isn’t so bad. It’s simpler. You all know each other’s names and faces. You say hi and how are you and do what needs to be done. Simple is, simple as. 

You here there isn’t much to do in most small towns. Not for fun or for work. You’re one of the lucky ones. You got a job down at the diner in your sophomore year. It helped pay for your daddy’s new engine and since then, it keeps you all afloat in the rising waters of disparity as they close in on Tumble Down. 

You hum to the old radio that sits on the shelf you make sure to dust. The speakers crackle from time to time and the signal gets wonky in storm season, but the music’s never bad. It’s the classic stuff that always played in your mother’s kitchen. 

You wipe down another table. Not because it needs it, just because it’s something to do. The day has been long and listless. Even the breakfast rush was lower than usual. 

Darnell, the cook, whistles along from the back. Everyone knows he isn’t as mean as he looks. He just likes his space. 

As you go back to the counter and lean on it, staring at the ticking clock, a roar cuts through the distance. You blink and look up, narrowing your eyes at the dusty country road outside. Wind rustles through the tall wheat in the field opposite and the noise rumbles closer and closer. 

A man pulls in a motorbike. He’s going so fast that he has to circle the gravel lot before he can slow down. It’s not Lenny and his prized Harley but another man on a more modern-looking mount. Not far behind, another motorcycle zips through and the riders straddle their bikes as the survey the restaurant. 

You narrow your eyes. You probably need glasses but you make do. The last time you got your eyes checked, you didn’t have enough for the frames. 

The one man wears blue and red, an odd helmet on his head. Not a helmet at all but a sort of mask. The other man has dark hair to his chin and a beard to match. He’s all in black but his left arm shines with gold ripples. Not a sleeve, an arm, made of metal. 

“Oh my lord,” you murmur in shock, “Darnell!” You holler over your shoulder, “you’re not gonna believe this.” You turn to the window as he pokes his head around, “not sure I do myself. Tell me my eyes aren’t lyin’.” 

He looks above your head, an easy task for the mammoth cook. He hums and swirls around his spatula. “Thems those boys on the news. The one that was in the old war. Grandad’s battle.” 

“I’m not going crazy with boredom?” You bubble. 

He snorts. It’s as close to a laugh as you get from him. You spin back and hurry around the counter to grab a pair of menus. Still, you don’t want to seem too eager. You put down the menus and fiddle with a napkin holder instead. 

The bell over the door jingles and swipe up the menus and turn. You really can’t believe it’s them. Yet, as Captain America removes his cowl, you’re certain. They look just like they do on the TV. Even with your sight, you can tell. 

“Hello, fellas, how are you doin’ today?” 

The dark-haired one, the Winter Soldier, glances at the other, his cheek dimpling, “well... we’re... uh...” 

“We’re doing great,” Steve Rogers answers brightly. “Starving. You guys serve bacon? My buddy’s dying for some.” 

“Um, yes, sirs, yes. Can I sit ya down?” You ask, hugging the menus closer. 

“Please,” the Captain accepts as the other man stays silent and pensive, his eyes wandering down to the coffee stain on your apron. 

“Just here,” you sweep away and wave them on with you. You stop beside the nicest booth and lay down a menu on each side, “have a seat.” 

They do just as you bid. The blond puts his cowl on the table and unhooks the shield from his back to lay on the far end of the seat. He smooths back the sweaty strands of hair as his companion stretches his metal fingers. You sway nervously by the table, twitching as you remind yourself how to do your job. 

“Well, can I get ya started with coffee? You look beat from the road.” You beam with the smile Mr. Welk says could outshine the sun. 

“Not just the road,” the dark-haired one mutters as he rolls his shoulder. The one that connects to his real arm. “I’ll take one, please.” 

“Can I get an orange juice, please,” the Captain asks. 

“Course ya can. I’ll be right back. You have a look at the specials and give it a think,” you bounce and spin around. 

You go to pour the orange juice and a cup of black coffee. Darnell lingers by the window. He only ever really appears to put a plate up but he watches the new arrivals. 

You bring their drinks and step back, clasping your hands behind you. 

“Did ya need cream or sugar for your coffee, sir?” You ask. 

“Black’s fine,” he assures. 

“No need for the sirs. Steve, Bucky,” Captain America insists, “we’re off duty.” 

“Right, sorry about that, ssss...Steve,” you correct yourself. “You need some more time?” 

“Think I’m decided,” Bucky intones, “what about you?” 

“Set,” Steve confirms, “I’ll have the sunny side up with toast and sausage. Can I get some fruit on the side as well, please?” 

He hands over the menu and you take it as you hold your smile. Your cheeks ache. Not because you have to force it but because you can’t stop. This is the most exciting thing to happen in Tumble Down ever. If Darnell wasn’t there, no one would believe you. 

“Overeasy, bacon, extra bacon too, and some french toast, and uh... home fries.” Bucky offers up the second menu, “please and thank you.” 

“Alrighty,” you preen, “I’ll put your order in.” 

“Got it,” Darnell growls over the empty diner. 

“He’s got good hearing,” you giggle nervously as you look between the men. “Ummmm, sorry, I’ll leave ya be.” 

“You’re not bothering,” Steve assures. “I can see you’re dying to ask.” 

He gives a gentle smile. 

“Nah, oh, gosh. I’m sure ya get it all the time. I don’t wanna be one of those,” you put your hands up. “Really, you all look like you could use the peace and quiet.” 

“Well, actually, I’ve been stuck with this meathead for days,” Bucky scoffs, “so please, I’d love to hear someone else’s voice.” 

You laugh again. They’re funnier than you expect. They always look so serious on the TV. 

“What... what are y’all doing here in Tumble Down? It’s a bit far from... anywhere.” You ask sheepishly. 

“Tumble Down? Is that what it’s called?” Steve scratches his neck above his stained collar. “Well, we couldn’t get a signal so we’ve just been riding through. Saw the sign down the way and figured we’d get a bite.” 

“He’s lying. He was falling asleep on his bike,” Bucky teases. 

“Sure,” Steve shakes his head. “Only ‘cause I’m tired of you.” 

You giggle again, “I thought y’all were friends.” 

“Friends, partners, cursed with each other, have your pick,” Bucky snorts. 

“He’s playing,” Steve says. “Look, we’re boring. Despite what you think. We’re a couple of old men bickering with each other. What about you? What about Tumble Down?” 

“Ah, nothing really, sir. Steve,” you squeeze the menus tight at the edges. “Nothing going on since the coal law and that. Everyone’s all but run out. All but us.” 

“Just you? Your family?” Steve wonders. 

“Jesus, Steve, nosy much?” Bucky says over the brim of his mug. 

“Sorry. He’s right. Like I said. Crotchety old man. I talk to the pigeons.” 

You laugh again, “oh my, you are a hoot!” You slap your thigh emphatically, “I’m still my ma and pa. It’s just the three of us. They need help with the animals and that.” 

“Animals?” Steve wonders, his posture shifting towards you. 

“Chickens, cows. They got a farm. Was my grandpa’s. And his ma kept it going after he didn’t come home from... well, you’d know more about that time than me, I think.” You give a forlorn look to the floor. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry about your grandfather. Great grandfather,” he corrects himself. 

“Lotta good men gone,” Bucky mulls grimly. 

“Yeah, my great granny said as much. I wouldn’t know though, but I heard the stories,” you dare to look at them again. “Sorry to bring up the bad memories.” 

“Nah,” Bucky waves you off casually. “I got this nifty arm outta it.” 

“And I got a shield so, you know, not all losses,” Steve chuckles. 

“I s’pose,” you agree. “I’m gonna check on that food for ya. You good with your coffee?” 

Bucky raises the mug, “delicious.” 

You nod and turn with a swish of your skirt. You go up to the window and look over the ledge. “How’s it going, Darnell?” 

“Going. I’m happy it ain’t Raylene here. She’s got a mouth on her, don’t she? Them sort don’t deserve that trouble,” he tisks. 

“They’re nice. And Raylene is too. She’s just... Raylene,” you say, “can I help with anything?” 

“I don’t wanna be rude but I’m tired of tellin’ ya to stay outta my kitchen. You know the grill likes to spit,” he shakes his head. “You go, I’ll let ya know when it’s ready.” 

“Alright,” you back away and turn back. 

Steve and Bucky lean over the table, their voices low as they chat. As you move around behind the counter, they both sit up and the former clears his throat. You smile as you take the cloth from your apron pocket and wipe the already clean counter. 

As the radio buzzes, you hum without thinking. Stevie Ray Vaughan’s smoky voice mingles with the emotion plucked through electric strings. Your dad’s a big fan. He has old tapes with concerts on them and even went to one himself. 

The bell rings and you nearly jump out of your shoes. You turn and scoop up the plates as you thank Darnell. He grumbles that he’s going out to have a smoke; his code for having a Tootsie Pop by the backdoor. 

You bring the meals over to the table and set them down before the men. Their gazes make you sweat. It’s all a little more intense with no one else there. 

“Thank you,” Steve says and Bucky echoes him. 

“Not at all. Anything else? Water? Ketchup?” 

“It all looks great as is,” Steve says, “you got a nice voice.” 

“Oh, really? Ha, I was just humming out of tune. Sorry if I was too loud.” 

“Not at all,” Bucky picks up his fork as he leans forward. He tilts his head. “You know this one?” 

“Sure do. It’s Fleetwood Mac,” you answer. “One my all times.” 

He grins and nods as he looks at Steve. Steve watches you with a smile of his own. 

“Do you sing?” He asks. 

“Me? Only in my shower or to the chickens. They usually hide in the henhouse then.” You tinkle with laughter. 

“Ah,” Steve nods. 

“But if... if ya really wanna suffer, I could try it,” you smile, “but uh, you know, Stevie Nicks, she’s one of a kind.” 

“I’ve had worse,” Steve says. 

You look between him and Bucky. You chew your lip and think. You follow the song as you try to recognise which verse it is. You squint and perk up as you catch your place. 

“You just let me know when you’ve had enough,” you say before you start. Not only can you tell your pa that you met the super soldiers, you can tell him you sang for them. It’ll be a nice bit of excitement for the dinner table. 

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Give Me Shelter, For My Heart | Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader | One Shot? 3k

Things are missing around the Avengers' compound and a newly returned Bucky is acting weirder than normal...Steve and Sam go to investigate and discover more than they bargained for.

Warnings: 18+ for language and suggestion of Hydra violence/torture/experimentation, omegaverse themes including alpha & omega, suggestion of pregnancy/pups, wolf shifting Rated F for Fluff and G for good friends

Challenges & Prompts: @buckybarnesevents Alpha Bucky April with extra prompts - word count, nesting, purring, beta characters, (I'll let mods decide if this hits the breeding/baby fever prompt). And @fandom-free-bingo 'forehead kisses'

Graphic by me and Canva, dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Hmm,” Steve looked around the supply room, surveying the gaps and empty shelves, normally well stocked with blankets and provisions. It was the third time this week he’d found himself at a loss, not just for words but his things too. Everything seemed to be going missing. 

First it was a few plates and mugs from the galley kitchen by his office, then it’d been the lunch he’d left for him and Bucky in the fridge. Last night he’d gone into Bucky’s room to make sure he was okay and found the man sleeping on a bare mattress, all the sheets, pillows and blankets were gone and the newly revived Bucky refused to explain what had happened to them or even acknowledge that there was anything wrong at all. He hadn’t even addressed that fact that the window was wide open and it looked as if he was sleeping in his shoes. 

Which brought Steve’s thoughts to the man himself. Bucky had been so odd since he’d returned. For a day or two, he’d been something like his old self, despite the awful situation they found themselves in, he’d joked with Steve and reminisced with the few memories he had. They’d enjoyed a beer together and he’d even met with Tony during their mediation and patched things up. 

Then, they’d all climbed onto the jet and he’d become distant, pacing like a caged animal until they’d landed. As soon as the doors were open he’d vanished for forty-eight hours and sent the entire compound into mayhem before strolling back in as if nothing had happened, bruised and covered in blood. Judging by the bandages he sported later that day, his cuts and bruises spread under his shirt and trousers too. 

Steve knew that he’d changed during his time with Hyrda, back in the 30s they’d both been betas, happy to plod along ignoring the madness of the few alpha’s in Brooklyn. It had been a rare thing then, to be an alpha, now they were considered a dying breed, so when Bruce’s tests had revealed that Bucky was an alpha now, they’d tried to take it in their stride that he might go off on his own sometimes, especially since omegas were even rarer. But there was still so much they didn’t know, so much to unpack and discover about the Bucky they’d rescued, and Steve was so desperate to spend time getting to know this new man that all the time apart was making him worry. 

“You okay?” Sam asked from the doorway, leaning in to hand Steve a hot cup of coffee. 

“Just doing a stock check.” 

“He take something else?” Sam stepped into the small room, lined with shelves and shelves of tents, camping stoves, parachutes, it seemed to go on and on. The bare grey shelves where stock was missing was stark against the white washed walls. 

“He?” 

“Barnes,” Sam sipped his coffee, matter of fact, and Steve confronted the worry that had been plaguing him. 

“It’s Bucky, isn’t it?” Steve dropped his head heavily and Sam patted him on the back, still sipping his drink. 

“Sorry man, told you, he’s not right yet. He’s not hurting anyone though, if he hates his bedding, who cares, if he hates your lunches, who could blame him.” 

Sam sidestepped Steve’s halfhearted swipe with a grin on his face. 

“But what’s he doing with it, Sam? Where’s it all going?” 

“Hell, I don’t know, have you asked him?” Sam raised his eyebrows. 

Had Steve asked his best friend, who flinched at his touch and shied away from any conversations? Bucky who vanished for hours at a time and came back looking as if he’d been dragged through a hedge? No, he hadn’t. He’d been too scared to confront what might be going on, what latent part of his programming might be at play. 

“Look, if you’re too scared to ask why don’t I?” 

Now it was Steve’s turn to raise his eyebrow, it wasn’t that Sam and Bucky didn’t get along, they just didn’t get along yet. Steve was working on it. 

“What if we…followed him?” He offered instead and Sam laughed again. 

“Who knew Captain America was scared of his own friends,” he couldn’t contain the chuckles. “Fine, fine. Let’s keep an eye on him.” Sam turned to the ceiling, more comfortable with the AI than Steve was. “FRIDAY, if Sergeant Barnes leaves his room, please can you alert us - privately?” 

“Of course,” the soft voice answered and Steve gave his friend a weak smile. 

FRIDAY’S alert went off twice a day, every day, over the next week. But despite their best efforts neither Steve nor Sam managed to catch up with Bucky. 

It wasn’t until the following Saturday that they managed to follow him. Bucky was supposed to be at a training session to get his official certifications but they’d both had a feeling he’d try and skip it. As predicted they’d spotted the blue of his new henley edging around the side of the compound, a full backpack strapped to his back. 

Bucky ran across the grass and towards the thick forest. His still uncut hair was tied back but tendrils fell out as he sprinted into the wind. 

He was surprisingly loud, as he strode quickly between the trees, snapping twigs and branches that Steve knew he could’ve dodge even before the serum and his training. Sam looked at him, both of their feet silent as they followed. 

Bucky’s speed increased as he turned his face up into the breeze, his backpack jostled against the trees, bouncing when he began to run. 

Steve kept up, sending Sam wide, into the breeze, in case Bucky doubled back. 

Just as he was starting to feel lost in the repetition of trees and ferns, Bucky burst into a clearing and Steve slammed to a halt. 

The pine trees gave way to a small patch of clear sky, shining down on an old shed. Unlike the other abandoned guard houses, this one had obviously been cleaned recently. The small porch was swept and a pair of Avengers camping chairs were arranged neatly facing into the forest. A line had been strung between the cabin and the trees where one of the missing blankets fluttered in the gentle wind. 

Steve crouched down, motioning to Sam on the other side of the clearing to stay out of sight. 

Bucky approached slowly, “Cățeluș, are you here?” 

At first there was nothing and then a wolf nosed its way out from behind the door, it’s chestnut brown fur almost gold in the sunlight. It leaped forwards from the porch and shot across the clearing, leaping into Bucky’s arms. 

Steve whipped his head up to try and find Sam and by the time his eyes found Bucky again the wolf was gone, replaced by a woman pulling on a large t-shirt from Bucky’s backpack. 

“James!” Her sweet voice rang out in the otherwise quiet forest. 

Swamped by Bucky’s familiar red henley, you shot from the door and into Bucky's waiting arms, the back pack dropped to the floor and forgotten. 

She was swamped by Bucky’s red henley and he wrapped you in his arms, one large hand on the back of your head, tucking you into his neck. The other supported your legs, now wrapped around his waist. 

In the clearing Bucky's shoulders relaxed as he sank into your embrace, kissing and nipping at your neck. In return you tipped your head, practically purring at the attention and wriggling in his arms. 

“Have you been okay, baby.” Bucky asked, pulling away enough to look you over. 

“I'm okay, I missed you though, James, please don't leave me again.” You begged cupping his stubbled cheeks in your hands. 

Bucky turned into your palm and kissed it, “I know, I know, I’ve been making sure it’s safe for you.” 

Steve's heart sank. Bucky didn't feel safe? 

“You trust me, don't you, my little omega.” Bucky rubbed his nose into your cheek and you giggled, holding him even tighter, your hands in his hair. 

An omega? 

Sam stared over at Steve, eyes wide. 

It was clear to them both that this was no chance encounter and all Bucky’s odd behaviour suddenly started to make more sense.

Steve motioned for Sam to leave, they could sneak back to the compound and perhaps bring this up tentatively. Perhaps leave some items you might like lying around in the hopes that Bucky would take them and understand that his secret was out, but it was safe. 

Sam moved swiftly round the clearing as Steve continued to watch Bucky. 

Bucky vanished into the cabin, leaving you on the porch alone, snuggled into his shirt and pressing the collar to your nose. 

“She’s cute,” Sam whispered, squeezing up against Steve, still hiding in the overgrown ferns that lined the edge of the cabin. 

“We can’t let her sleep out here. She must be hungry and cold.”

Bucky emerged from the cabin carrying two of the missing mugs, balancing them carefully on the railing before scooping you up into his lap. His hand hovered by his mouth, sipping in slow motion as his eyes scanned the tree line and Steve took a breath, sitting back quickly. 

“Stay here, Cățeluș,” he was up in a flash, eyes always on the tree line even when he reached into his boot to pull out a familiar gerber knife. 

Instead of flipping it into his palm, he balanced it on the arm of your camping chair. Eyes still on the trees he placed his metal hand on top of your head, “stay here and stay safe, follow the plan, do what you need to.” His voice was low, series, almost a growl. Far away from the happy, loving tones he’d been speaking to you with before. 

You nodded, and as soon as he felt your head move he was up and off the porch. 

Steve and Sam looked up in time to see a wolf leap towards them. 

It was true then, the experiments had worked and Steve had the cold feeling that returned every time he discovered something new about his friend during a fight, but he had no time to worry about it now. Not when the wolf was closing in on them. 

It was huge, its white fur dusted with fallen leaves, but its teeth gleamed in the afternoon sun as he pounced, snarling. His paws the size of dinner plates slamming into the ground in front of them, teeth bared and snarling. 

Steve rolled away, pulling Sam with him and covering his body, regretting not bringing the shield. 

“Bucky!” Sam shouted from under Steve’s arm

“Bucky it’s us we don’t want to hurt you!” 

The wolf pulled back from the two men pinned beneath him, and something like clarity passed over Bucky’s icey blue eyes and he sat on his haunches, head cocked to one side, ears floppy. Then it stood, rounding the bushes and, in a blink, the man had reappeared still hiding before the foliage to cover his naked body. 

“Steve -” Bucky looked thoroughly confused, 

“Bucky, we’re so sorry we shouldn’t have followed you.” 

“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice wavered, his body cold without his fur and with his clothes left behind in the cabin. 

“We were worried about you, man, you’ve been so weird - stealing stuff, going missin’, can you blame us for getting creeped out?” Sam raised his eyebrows and Bucky’s brow furrowed. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I just had to -” he gestured back towards the cabin and, as if remembering he’d left you behind with no way of knowing he was safe he turned and ran back to the clearing. 

Steve and Sam jumped up, chasing after Bucky once more. 

The cabin porch was empty when Steve picked his way down the slope of mud and rocks into the clearing. 

A howl rang out as he got closer to the little house, a high, pained sound and then the response came, low and level. 

There were two wolves now, hidden at the side of the cabin in the shadows.

The white wolf kept itself half turned towards Steve and Sam, who kept quiet and still, barely daring to breathe, allowing its companion to approach slowly. 

The brown wolf dropped in front of the white, ears flat back against its head, and then rolled over, showing a soft belly that the white wolf nuzzled gently before turning back to Steve and barking sharply. 

Steve held his hands up and the wolf barked again, turning tail and returning to the cabin. 

It took only moments for Bucky to show himself on the porch, pulling his henley back down over his now dirt streaked belly. 

“Come in,” he gestured up the stairs and vanished again. 

The cabin, though run down, was well kept. The porch was swept of leaves and there was even a little mat by the door. 

“Shoes,” you whispered, pulling on Bucky’s sleeve as you entered the main living space, making an attempt to hide behind him. You’d dressed again too, also in one of Bucky’s henleys and a pair of leggings that Steve recognised as Avengers recruit issue. 

“Do you mind?” Bucky asked while Steve and Sam stared between you both. 

“Shoes,” you turned to look up at Bucky again, eyes pleading in one moment and then flicking to the two new men treading mud into your home. 

“Your shoes, take them off.” Bucky helped them arrange their boots neatly by the door while you pottered around the fireplace. “This is her nest,” he whispered, making sure the doormat was straight and the little curtain was neat over the window. “It’s important to omegas, to her,” you turned shooting a glare over your shoulder, “to us-that it’s kept just right and she hates shoes inside.”

In the small living space a camping stove had been set up with a kettle, a portable fridge, and an assortment of mugs, both Avengers field regulation and novelty, which were set neatly on the mantel. You chose four, and placed them next to the kettle while it steamed happily away. 

Bucky spoke softly to you in a mixture of English and Romanian, but you didn’t come any closer to the strange men. You’d seen them before, on the television and in Bucky’s notebooks, but now that they were here, so large and imposing, you couldn’t bring yourself to even look over. 

“This is Cățeluș, well, that’s not her real name but we couldn’t find that. She - uh -” you watched Bucky struggle for words and lay a hand on his cheek, smiling warmly up at him. Your Winter, your James. “-I don’t want to say the word, it upsets her, but she was with me when I was - him - part of the experiments.” 

You poured the tea quietly, watching the steam rise into the darts of sun making their way through the broken knots of wood in the wall, and you took a deep breath. With shaking hands you gave the first man, Sam, a cup. He had a gentle face, a wide smile and he didn’t look at you with pity, as you feared, only interest. 

The second man held his breath as you approached, keeping his hands as close to his body as possible until you pushed the cup towards him. Steve. Bucky had lots of pictures of Steve in his notebooks and had told you more stories than you could remember, but he didn’t look sickly, he looked too big for the space, his shoulders drawn in, slouched. You appreciated that he was trying not to look scary, even though your every nerve was on edge.  

Bucky took the proffered mug from your hands with a kiss to your forehead and you sighed, allowing him to steer you to the only arm chair in the room and then passing you your own tea. 

“We got out, eventually and - I brought her here.” Bucky sat on the rolled arm of the chair, draping his own arm over your shoulders and fitting you into his side. 

Steve and Sam could only stare. 

“Why didn’t you bring her to the compound? She can stay -” Steve turned to you, “you can stay, either in Bucky’s room or you can have your own room if you’d prefer.” 

It took you a moment to process the offer, but eventually you shook your head, turning into Bucky’s side. 

“It was awful - in there, with them she, we both -” Bucky struggled for the words, the desire to protect you rising inside 

“It’s okay,” Sam said carefully, “I know the transition’s been rough on you, Bucky, I can’t imagine what it’s been like for her, how you even got her out here. But there’s nothing to be afraid of, maybe she’ll come with you? If you suggest it?” 

Sam kept looking at you, his eyes soft and encouraging but you turned away, pressed your face into Bucky’s ribs where his scent had soaked through his shirt, reassuring and primal, chanting in your head Alpha, safe, Alpha, safe. You did miss him, when he was gone, but how could he keep you safe in that place. 

You’d seen it, once or twice, through the trees when you took a walk, looking for whatever you could find in the forest. Guards left lots of things behind, bottles and coats and jackets, useful things. You collected them all, skirting around the edge of that horrid white building and hoping to never see the terrifying things that flew out of it, men in suits and robots, it was too much. 

“You can bring whatever you like with you, and maybe Nat and Wanda could help you with some new things, if you liked?” Steve followed Sam’s lead, keeping his voice steady and low. 

“James - my nest.” You mumbled, gripping his henley in your fist. 

He dropped a hand onto your head, “we can do whatever you like, baby. You want to stay here, we can stay, you want to go to the compound, we’ll go.” 

You felt Bucky’s heart rate pick up, its beat hammering and your anxiety grew too, your breathing more ragged, you turned even further into him, practically climbing into his lap, the henley you’d taken from him riding up. 

Instantly you knew it was a mistake, the scars of your time in Hydra were still visible, raised on your skin, yellowing patches of healing bruises and calloused skin from repeated bouts in the chair. 

Sam and Steve could barely conceal their inhale of breath. 

“Bucky, did you get her checked by a doctor or…” Sam trailed off, Bucky looked angry again, his arms fully surrounding you. 

“And what would I have said, Sam?” He growled, “I know she looks like she’s been kept in a cage and beaten but please don’t arrest me, I promise it wasn’t me? Her social security number? Sorry, I don’t have it, we don’t even know her name. I did the best I could.” His anger tipped over into a resigned sadness. Bucky cupped your face in one hand and forced you to look up at him, “I did the best I could, baby, I really did.” 

You nodded and his grip loosened so you could nuzzle into his chest again, your own tears running down your cheeks at the memory of those early days. Bucky’s shaking hands patching up your burns and cuts, the whisky you’d slugged before he pulled out a stray bullet from your arm and stitched it with floss. Every touch had been gentle though, every time he’d changed your bandages or cleaned you up, it had been gentle. It had been everything he could give you. 

“We didn’t mean it like that, Buck,but we could help, get her checked over and then you can come back here.” Sam’s voice was plaintive, deliberately soothing and it made Bucky’s blood boil. 

“I’m not taking her to that place.” He bit back, there was no mistaking the way he curled you into his body, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around your back. 

It didn’t hurt anymore, to be touched, but then it’d never hurt to be touched by James. His hands had always been careful with you, his strength used only for protection and it was for that reason that you lay your trust in him completely. 

“Don’t make me go, Alpha.” You whispered, your lips brushing the base of his neck where you’d marked him, right over his scent gland, your teeth marks an eternal brand. You nuzzled into him, your chest rumbling again. 

“I won’t make you go,” he looked back at Steve and Sam, the finality of his decision sat heavily in the air. 

“Can we at least bring some medical things here? Would you let Sam check you out?” Steve offered, he was increasingly concerned by the way Bucky had retreated into the chair, his own legs now curled up on the overstuffed cushion.

Above you, James nodded once, “just you and Sam, don’t tell anyone else. I’ll know if you tell anyone else.” The panic edging Bucky’s voice had Steve raising his hands in surrender. 

“I promise, Buck, just Sam and I.”

Sam and Steve left the cabin at dusk while you and Bucky watched from the deck. As soon as they were beyond the trees he pulled you even tighter against his chest, his heat warm. 

“Everything is going to be okay, baby, I promise, no one’s going to ever, ever, hurt you again.” His hands slid down your arms and across the slow swell of your belly. “But we should consider their offer, make sure we’re making a choice that’s good for you and me, as well as them.” His palm pushed up under your shirt, splayed on your tight skin and, deep inside, your pup pushed back. 

[guardianofnightmares]

Sunrise

Faint beam of artificial light from a surface danced off yellow armor of an Autobot, giving it a color of a newborn star. Bumblebee graced the Decepticon with a broad smile, its warmth making the hostile gloom around his facial features to dissipate.

To Blitzwing a minibot reminded a stray ray of hope which arrived to safe lost souls from a long dead and forgotten world.

A true rising sun in the realm of darkness.

----------

Alright, fellas, next entry to the @blitzbee-week event is finally here)). The prompt of the second day was "Sunrise" and I decided to go more figuratively with it rather then depicting a literal "appearance of the sky" at a particular part of a day. As you can guess by a provided description, Bee basically becomes a "leading star" for a brooding Blitzwing, who, as it seems, is not that thrilled by discovery of his partner.

Just as a previous entry to a mentioned event, this picture is dedicated to my fanfic called "TFA: Icarus". Here's a [link] for the series "folder" which also includes an existing teaser (future prologue) for a story if anyone wants to give it a try. Again, can not thank you enough for all the support you've shown for it so far, I will try my best to come up with updates soon enough.

As it usually goes with such works of mine, I will provide the full snippet of one of chapters, which a depicted scene is taken from, under a cut line for anyone wishing to read more about the scene. Hope you'll enjoy it)

To the surprise of many comrades he’d worked with, the Triplechanger proved to be the most patient mech on a team when it came to long lasting missions. Usually he didn’t find it difficult to lay low and wait for orders to come, even if it meant to stay idle for several solar cycles. It was a useful trait of character which Decepticon rightfully prided himself of. 

Yet, even a seemingly boundless patience had its limits. 

“Can you see anything of use out there?” Blitzwing finally asked his unfortunate “partner in crime”.

A brightly colored mech slipped on the spot upon hearing Con’s voice but managed to regain his balance. 

“Not yet, Blitzwing, give me a klik!” A minibot shouted over his shoulder, holding on the steel bar for dear life. “Climbing is not as easy as I’m surely making it look in your optics.”

If Bumblebee planed to cheer up a Warframe with such a comment, he failed miserably, for it only seemed to sour up an already bad mood of a tall mech. 

To a Decepticon, it felt like forever since the minibot began his ascend up a steep scarp of a crumbled wall. One would think that, thanks to his light frame, he’d manage to reach the top level in no time. But even this uneven terrain, made of torn sheets of metal and broken cables, proved to be a challenge to an agile Autobot. 

The damned energy chain, which linked limbs of both mechs to each other, clearly was the greatest obstacle for Bumblebee, barely giving him a chance to move as far away from a somber mech as possible. Not to mention that a Decepticon was forced to stand on one pede in order to accommodate his companion’s slow conquest of new heights. 

Admittedly, a Triplechanger considered an option of tearing the bug’s pede he’s bound to off. But that type of cuffs always latched onto anything in their vicinity (while being activated). Meaning, the chances of getting tied to a nearby wall, as a result of said actions, reached more than 90%. 

Tearing his own pede off was not part of a Warframe’s plans. 

“If you haven’t noticed it yet, Bumblebee Prime, we don’t have plenty of time left to hide in these tunnels,” A “former” convict grumbled in response while surveying his surroundings for an up-tenth time. He didn’t notice how a Bot winced at the mention of his new title.

Minibot knew he deserved that snide remark. But it did not make him feel better about his recent promotion to an Elite Guard. Or about a decision to become one for that matter. The decision which led to a situation where an Autobot and a Decepticon got lost under an Iacon city. 

They had to hide in maintenance tunnels from the times prior to a Great War. Tunnels built by Decepticons for Autobots’ use, and left by them to slowly rot in an utter disrepair after the said War was officially ended. Sealed off since the banishment of Warframes from Cybertron, eventually the structure turned into an urban myth not many of currently living mechs remember or even know about.

An old complex Blitzwing and Bumblbee were currently navigating in was once part of the major supportive structure. Meant to protect veins and tubes once full of energon, that section was made of sturdy materials which stoically passed the test of time. 

The Decepticon would’ve lied if he’d said he’s not pleasantly surprised by that discovery. 

But it did not bright up his mood by much - they still needed to find a way to the surface level of a planet. 

“Foolish of me to expect a scout with no field experience to do a Warframe’s job,” the mech muttered under his breath, words bitter on his glossa. “Perhaps I should have been the one to search for an exit after all”.

Blitzwing had no intent for the last sentence to be heard by his peer, but an aforementioned scout, apparently, had nicely tuned audials. 

Figures. 

“And to risk exposing your Decepticon signature to raging authorities? No, thanks!” Bumblebee chirped after successfully reaching for a rod sticking out of a long abandoned structure. “It was already enough of me putting everything at risk by making stupid decisions - I don’t want to see you following my lead.”

Somehow the fact that a minibot admitted his mistakes helped to somewhat cool Blitzwing down. He said nothing in return but did glance at him once prior returning to surveying desolated surroundings. 

Bumbler’s changed since the promotion to the ranks of an Elite Guard. He seemed to act more mature, even if he’s still naive about most things happening around him. For strangers it’d be an unexpected change of character for such an optimistic and energetic Bot as Bumblebee. But Blitzwing was no random outsider, whether he liked to be on closer terms with a current companion of his or not. 

Death of a teammate has effected the minibot on a much deeper level then he’d ever admit to anybody, even to himself. Yet, despite how horrible it might’ve sounded, the Decepticon thought that that was an important lesson every soldier had to live through. And as a mech, who’s witnessed deaths of many of his comrades throughout the Great War, he had to agree that Bumbler was holding up pretty well for someone so inexperienced in mentioned matters. 

Even Blitzwing, who did not know Prowl as well as a yellow Bot did, felt the loss of a mech effecting him as well to a certain degree. No matter how secluded and cold the cyber-ninja seemed to be, he always had a special aura around him, the one that made people feel at ease in his presence. Though how he could so freely speak to a Con about importance of life and probability of peace among Cybertronians remained a mystery to him to that solar cycle.  

What was that thing black and golden Autobot’s talking about during the last conversation of theirs? 

“To have Faith not in Primus, not in The Allspark, but in each other”?

What exactly made him see it being possible back then and, especially, at a current stage of the reignited conflict between factions? Triplechanger had no answer to that question either. He didn’t view how the world should work the same way Prowl did. Could not fully comprehend the intricacies of a philosophy of an Autobot, but, at least, did not lack the courage to make it very clear during a mentioned discussion of theirs.

Blitzwing didn’t have Faith in anyone anymore, and he surely wouldn't in a foreseen future. 

For who could remain being supportive of their unhelpful, unwanted partn-… Autobot, while being lost in Allspark forsaken place with no means of escape?

…

“… -es! I see the gap in a wall!.. Blitzwing, I actually see it!”

The joyful voice tore Triplechanger from a deep melancholy state he slipped into while looking down a dark tunnel to his left. He raised his ruby optics, their faint glow barely lighting sharp features of his blue faceplates.

“Right where you’ve predicted it to be,” The Autobot added after turning around in order to face his unfortunate companion, unintentionally giving him quite a peculiar view of his small form.

Faint beam of artificial light from a surface danced off yellow armor of an Autobot, giving it a color of a newborn star. Bumblebee graced the Decepticon with a broad smile, its warmth making the hostile gloom around his facial features to dissipate.

To Blitzwing a minibot reminded a stray ray of hope which arrived to safe lost souls from a long dead and forgotten world.

A true rising sun in the realm of darkness.

...

Blitzwing huffed in mild annoyance at himself and his artistic side of a processor - it was not the right moment for poetic comparisons. Hope and Faith had no place in a situation he was stuck in, only cold calculations. He and Bumbler had to get out of that place, no matter the cost. And the sooner they’d get rid of an energy chain, the better.

[shem-fatale]

Dragon Age Inquisition: "Canon" Choices Survey Results!

Tell us about your personal "canon" Inquisitor who will make an appearance in The Veilguard? What were their choices? Answers to this short survey were collected via a tumblr post between June 11th and June 22nd 2024. I have since found out which of the choices mentioned will and will not affect DA:TV but I will include all questions anyway. Text version and tags under the cut!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

1. Who is your "canon" Inquisitor and are/were they in a relationship with another DAI character? Female Adaar/Blackwall - 1% Female Lavellan/Blackwall - 1% Male Lavellan/Josephine- 1% Male Lavellan/The Iron Bull- 1% Male Trevelyan/Cassandra - 1%

Female Lavellan/Josephine - 2% Female Trevelyan/Josephine- 2% Male Lavellan - no romance - 2%

Female Adaar/The Iron Bull - 3% Male Adaar/Dorian - 3%

Female Trevelyan/Blackwall - 4%

Female Adaar/Josephine - 6% Male Trevelyan/Dorian - 6%

Female Lavellan/Cullen - 7%

Male Lavellan/Dorian - 12%

Female Trevelyan/Cullen - 13%

Female Lavellan/Solas - 33% Added headcanon comment from @spiders-scribbles: Male Adaar/The Iron Bull "Kas is played with the female model cause I hate how bulky the male Qunari body is and also trans reasons" <3 And another one from @doves-wing: Female Cadash/Josephine "i think they have an open relationship and so my quizzy has dated iron bull though that relationship ends before trespasser. she is still with josie though." <3 2. What combat class and specialisation apply to your "canon" Inquisitor?

Warrior/Two-Handed/Templar - 0% Warrior/Weapon and Shield/Templar - 0%

Rogue/Daggers/Artificer - 1% Warrior/Two-Handed/Champion - 1% Warrior/Weapon and Shield/Reaver - 1%

Warrior/Two-Handed/Reaver - 3% Rogue/Archer/Tempest - 3% Warrior/Weapon and Shield/Champion - 3%

Mage/Necromancer - 4%

Rogue/Archer/Artificer - 5% Rogue/Archer/Assassin - 5% Rogue/Daggers/Tempest - 5%

Rogue/Daggers/Assassin - 8%

Mage/Rift Mage - 30%

Mage/Knight-Enchanter - 32% 3. Did the Inquisition form an alliance with the Mages or with the Templars?

Mages - 86%

Templars - 14% 4. Who was left behind in the Fade?

Alistair - 5%

Loghain - 9%

Hawke - 29%

Stroud - 57% 5. Did the Inquisition give the Wardens a second chance?

Yes - 89%

No - 11% 6. Who rules Orlais?

Gaspard - 1%

Celene - 10%

Gaspard as Briala's puppet - 14%

Truce between all parties - 32%

Celene and Briala - 43% 7. Who drank from the Well of Sorrows?

Morrigan - 48%

The Inquisitor - 52% 8. Who becomes Divine Victoria at the end of DA:I?

Vivienne - 7%

Cassandra - 18%

Leliana - 75% 9. What happened to the Inquisition at the end of Trespasser?

The Inquisition continues in the service of Divine Victoria - 17%

The Inquisition was disbanded - 83%

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A big thank you to:

@themightynej

@rotaryshakes

@slothsoep

@ladyotakukiut

@ellie-shy

@spaaace-ace

@infinitediversities

@missrosequeen

@re-venge

@tokyopewpew

@ennayeliah

@alesdaer

@what-ever-this-is-man

@maintitle

@doves-wing

@filbert-weevil

@robinthewarden

@flashyxtemplar

@0rzammar

@bonniemikaelson

@darthbootchie

@gugle1980

@hawkgirlriot

@huneybumble7

@onelessvenatori

@stillpanicking

@stuckyonbucky

@wildefiction

@animusrisunovatur

@anulindale

@azinareens

@cullens-babe

@energeticbasilisk

@fadejumper

@humonster

@joyfulpolicehologram

@krampus236

@maleficarmage

@mortalitasdeeznuts

@soft4sana

@themagnusbane

@thereiswarathand

@touchofweave

@tyralily

@witch-light

@witchybullshit

@littleballofanxiety

@precious-gem-of-a-cat @onlypartiallystars

@spiders-scribbles @titanwolfackerman @nervousparsnip @sowrongbutsowrite @argonian-at-heart @too-caught-up-in-moves @yjannu @lilywasx and also to everyone who didn't want to be tagged, plus everyone who spelled their user names wrong! I figured out some of the typos but some of you left me some crazy riddles hehe. <3

[blakeswritingimagines]

You're Dealing With A Goddess

Summary: When no offer is made to the old dragon goddess, she takes matters into her own hands.

Warnings: Fear play, Dub-Con, Dom Rhaenyra, Sub Fem reader, Fingering, Aphrodisiac, Anal play, Eating you out if you squint.

Word Count: 3.3k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

The village is a small farming community located in the Riverlands, perhaps near Harrenhal. The village is largely ignored by the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, however, they do have several run-ins with a dragon that likes to come by and wreak havoc and get its sacrifices from innocent locals. As you step out of your humble home in the small village nestled deep within the heart of the kingdom, you can feel the weight of the oppressive atmosphere hanging over it like a thick cloak. The villagers go about their daily routines with a sense of resignation and fear etched onto their faces. They know all too well the terror that comes with living under the shadow of the dragon that demands a human sacrifice once every year. You hear whispers among the villagers about how the dragon has grown increasingly impatient with the delay in fulfilling its annual demand for a life taken from their midst. It's clear that time is running out and the tension in the air is palpable. "What's going on?" You ask innocently.

The villagers looked at each other with worry on their faces. "The dragon's hunger will not be denied," they whispered. You realize now that the village hasn't offered up their sacrificial victim yet, and the dragon's hunger grows with each passing moment. The large figure of the dragon looms over the village, its massive form casting ominous shadows as it surveys the scene below. Its cold gaze takes in everything, missing nothing as it waits patiently for what it knows will come eventually. As the day wears on and the sun begins to set, the dragon lets out an impatient roar, signaling that its patience is reaching its limits. The sound sends a chill down the spine of everyone in the village, including you. They know all too well what happens when the dragon gets angry - homes are destroyed, livestock is consumed, and people are killed or enslaved. With each passing minute, the tension in the air grows thicker, making it harder to breathe or think clearly. Feeling the weight of the dragon's presence pressing down on you, you start to panic a bit. Your mind races with fear and anxiety as you try to come up with a plan to save yourself and your fellow villagers from certain doom. You look around at the other terrified villagers and realize that they are just as helpless as you are against such a powerful creature. The thought of being chosen as the sacrificial offering sends shivers down your spine, but you know that there's no point in hiding or trying to escape since the dragon can easily detect any attempt to flee. You decide that your only option left is to accept your fate and hope for the best.

The dragon takes a few more steps towards the center of the village, its claws scraping against the ground as it approaches. Its cold breath billows out in clouds that freeze whatever they touch. The villagers huddle together, looking for safety in numbers while also trying not to draw attention to themselves. As night falls and the dragon finally makes its way into the middle of the town square, it raises one massive foot and places it firmly on top of a nearby building, causing it to crumble into dust and debris. The sound of the collapse echoes through the streets, adding to the general feeling of dread and despair. The sound of the collapsing building causes the entire village to freeze in terror as they watch in horror, not daring to even breathe loud enough to be heard. When the dust settles, the villagers look around at each other in fear and silence. No one says anything, because they know that saying something wrong might attract the wrath of the monstrous beast. They sit in complete silence waiting for the inevitable.

The villagers gasped in shock and horror as the building collapsed, their faces filled with terror and disbelief. They realize that the moment of truth has arrived, and anyone could be chosen as the dragon's next meal. You feel your heart rate increase as you try to remain calm and focused despite the fear coursing through your veins. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to find the inner strength needed to face your fate head-on. As the dragon moves through the streets, its gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd of villagers, they can almost feel its power emanating from its body. It takes its time, taking its time to inspect each person carefully before making a decision. The longer it takes, the more nervousness and anxiety grip the villagers. Children start to cry, adults start to pray, and some people start to consider desperate measures in hopes of avoiding the monster's wrath. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the dragon stops in front of you. You find the courage to look into its piercing eyes without flinching.

Your heart skips a beat as the dragon speaks directly to you. You swallow hard and force yourself to look the monstrous creature in the eye, trying not to show any signs of weakness or fear. Despite your bravado, you can't help but feel a bit terrified as you realize that your time has come. "Me?" You ask hesitantly, not quite believing that you've been chosen as the offering. The thought of being eaten alive or whatever was planned by such a massive creature fills you with a mix of horror and dread, but you know that there's no use resisting or fighting back. You must submit to your fate with grace and dignity, especially since the dragon seems to find you acceptable as a sacrifice. The dragon moves with surprising speed and agility, considering its massive size. In just a few strides, it carries you away from the village and deeper into the surrounding forest. As they move further into the darkness, you can't help but feel a mix of fear and curiosity about where exactly the dragon plans to take you. "Stay quiet," the dragon growls warningly, its voice like an earthquake rumbling in your ears. It's clear that any disobedience or resistance would be met with immediate punishment. After what seems like hours of walking through the dense forest, the dragon stops in front of a large cave entrance. With a deft motion, it releases one of its arms from around your neck and uses it to push you inside the dark opening.

As the dragon enters the cave, you can hear the sound of water dripping and see flickering torchlight dancing on the walls. The smell of damp earth and decaying vegetation fills your nose, making you feel a bit queasy. Despite your fear, you remain mostly composed as you follow the dragon deeper into the cave. When it stops in front of a large rock formation that serves as a natural altar, you realize that this is where you'll be offered up as a sacrifice. The dragon sets you down gently on the altar, positioning your legs apart and restraining your hands above your head with one of its arms. Its other hand reaches out and grazes your cheek softly before moving to wrap around your throat, preventing any chance of escape or protest. The dragon moves around the altar, preparing for the ritualistic part of the offering. Its free hand retrieves a small knife from somewhere within the cave, and then it returns to stand between your spread legs. The tip of the blade hovers dangerously close to your throat, ready to make the first incision should you try anything foolish. "Now," the dragon commands, "stay still and let this happen." It leans down and nuzzles against your neck, inhaling deeply before starting the process of cutting into your exposed flesh.

The dragon's massive form looms over you, its presence dominating the entirety of the cave. Its hot breath washes over your exposed skin, making you feel terrified. As the dragon's body starts to shift and change, its scales rearrange themselves into a more human-like form. In moments, the dragon is gone, replaced by a tall and slender woman with long, silver hair that cascades down her back. She wears a flowing black dress adorned with intricate gold patterns, accentuating her curves and highlighting her ample bosom and narrow waist. As the dragon transforms into Rhaenyra Targaryen, you find yourself both amazed and terrified. The transformation is so sudden and complete that it takes a few moments for you to process what has happened. You see the beautiful woman standing before you, her body almost ethereal in its beauty and elegance, and realize that you are about to become a living sacrifice to this mythical figure. The thought of being consumed by such a powerful and alluring creature fills you with fear, and you struggle to maintain control over your emotions.

Rhaenyra Targaryen moves closer to you, taking in every detail of your exposed body with an intense curiosity. Her silver eyes lock onto your frightened ones, studying them carefully as if you were a work of art. As she gets within reach, Rhaenyra's hand extends and gently traces one finger along the curve of your chest, causing your heart rate to accelerate even further. "Do not be afraid," she whispers softly, "for I am not here to harm you… much." Without warning, Rhaenyra's other hand reaches down and cups one of your breasts, squeezing it gently but firmly. Despite your fear and anxiety, you feel a surge of arousal as Rhaenyra's hand touches your breast. The sensation is foreign and overwhelming, but not entirely unpleasant. You find yourself unable to look away from those captivating eyes as they continue to study you with an air of curiosity and desire. You stutter, "w-what do y-you plan to do with me? Eat me or use me as your plaything?" You don't know why, but there's something about Rhaenyra's alluring presence that makes you want to please her, even in the face of certain death.

Rhaenyra's touch is both tantalizing and intimidating, leaving you feeling both aroused and terrified. The combination of pleasure and pain is exhilarating, and despite your fear, you can't help but crave more of the woman's attention. As you hear Rhaenyra's assurance that you're being honored to be devoured by such a magnificent creature, a small part of you starts to believe it too. Rhaenyra's free hand moves lower, brushing against the wetness between your legs before finally settling on one of your inner thighs. She spreads your legs wider apart, exposing you completely to her gaze. You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, unable to resist the sensation of cool fingers teasing your sensitive folds. The combination of arousal and fear creates an intoxicating cocktail of emotions that leaves you feeling both vulnerable and empowered. You wonder if this is how people feel when they're about to be consumed by something so powerful and overwhelming. Rhaenyra's other hand continues to massage and squeeze your breast gently while her fingers slowly penetrate your dripping pussy. The contrast of pleasure and impending doom makes your heart race faster and your breathing become more labored. "I… I'm ready.."

Rhaenyra's hand continues to explore your wetness, her fingers expertly probing and teasing at the entrance to your pussy. She watches with a mixture of fascination and desire as you react to her touch, her own arousal growing stronger with each passing moment. As she feels you start to come apart under her ministrations, Rhaenyra decides it's time to make things official. "Open your legs wider," she commands softly, "and let me see everything." She removes her hand from your breast and moves it to grip one of your hips firmly, pushing you further onto the altar table and exposing you completely to Rhaenyra's gaze. You comply without hesitation, spreading your legs wide open and baring everything to Rhaenyra's unblinking inspection. You can feel the heat radiating off of Rhaenyra's body as she stands above you, looking like an ancient goddess come to life. Your breath catches in your throat as Rhaenyra's eyes fixate on your dripping pussy and glistening clit. The combination of fear and anticipation makes your pussy twitch and leak even more, adding to the visceral display of your readiness. Rhaenyra's free hand reaches down and wraps around one of your thighs, pulling you closer to her face so she can breathe in the scent of your arousal.

Rhaenyra's hand focuses solely on exploring your pussy, running her fingers deep inside of you and gripping onto the outer lips with a gentle force that suggests she won't be gentle for very long. As you come apart beneath her touch, Rhaenyra watches with rapt attention, her expression a mix of excitement and hunger. She pulls her hand away from your soaked crotch and stands up, stepping back slightly to admire the sight of you lying helplessly on the altar table. "Such a delicious offering," she murmurs, "I can hardly wait to taste you." As Rhaenyra steps back to admire her naked and vulnerable offering, you lie there panting heavily, your body still quaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You feel like a piece of meat being displayed in a marketplace, and the thought excites and terrifies you at the same time. You watched as Rhaenyra approached a bowl of liquid on the side of the altar table and dipped her fingers into it, coating them with a mysterious substance. "What are you doing?" You ask breathlessly, not able to take your eyes off the woman's mesmerizing movements.

Rhaenyra finishes dipping her fingers into the bowl and walks back over to where you lie on the altar table, your body still trembling from your recent climax. She brings her coated fingers close to your face and holds them just out of reach, allowing you to catch a whiff of the sweet scent emanating from them. The scent is intoxicating, a heady mix of honey and vanilla that seems to cloud your mind and heighten your arousal even further. As Rhaenyra moves closer, she leans down and places one of her coated fingers against your lips, urging you to take a taste of the delectable substance. A predatory grin on her face. Her body looms over your prone form like a predator stalking its prey. With a slow, deliberate motion, she brings one of her slick-covered fingers to just outside of your entrance and then pushes it inside, stretching your walls gently before pulling it out again. "I'm preparing myself," she explains simply, "to consume you."

As Rhaenyra's slick-coated finger enters your tight entrance, you gasp and arch your back, feeling both pleasurable pressure and a sense of dread building within you. You watched in awe as the woman stretched your walls apart, getting ready to devour you completely. The idea of being consumed by such a powerful and alluring creature sends shivers down your spine, making your body tense with anticipation and excitement. "Are you really going to eat me?" You breathlessly ask, unable to contain your curiosity or your growing arousal. And with that, she pushes another finger inside of your pussy, filling you completely with her presence. Rhaenyra nods, her eyes locked onto yours as she continues to insert more fingers into your waiting pussy. She can feel the tightness surrounding her digits giving way slowly but surely, allowing her to penetrate deeper into your warm depths with each passing moment. "Yes, my dear," she replies softly, "I plan on consuming every last bit of you." She adds another finger, pushing even farther into your wet sheath until her thumb is resting against the entrance to your rear entrance. "And once I have tasted you, there will be nothing left for anyone else." Her words are spoken with a mixture of confidence and determination, conveying the unwavering certainty of her intentions.

As Rhaenyra's fingers fill you completely, pushing past the point of no return, you let out a soft moan and close your eyes, surrendering yourself completely to the experience. You feel a surge of heat and wetness flow through your core as you realize that you're being penetrated fully by the alluring woman standing above you. The sensation is both foreign and exhilarating, sending shivers down your spine and causing your heart rate to accelerate even further. "You… You're really going to eat me…" As Rhaenyra's thumb presses against the entrance to your rear entrance, you let out a gasp and open your eyes wide in surprise, unsure of what to expect next. Rhaenyra can feel the tightness and warmth enveloping her thumb. With a slow, deliberate movement, she pushes it inside, feeling the resistance give way as her digit slips inside. "Indeed I am," she confirms, "and soon I will have consumed every last inch of you." Her voice is low and seductive, almost hypnotic in its intensity. She adds another finger alongside her thumb, working to stretch out your tight muscles and prepare you for whatever may come next. "Now, close your eyes and relax," she instructs gently, "and think only of how good it feels to be eaten alive."

Rhaenyra continues to work her fingers and thumb inside your tight rear entrance, gradually increasing the pressure and depth of her penetration. She can feel the tension building in your body as she takes possession of both your front and back entrances, marking her territory and claiming her prize. "Such a delicious treat," she murmurs softly, "to consume someone so completely." Her voice is low and sultry, like a siren's call drawing you ever closer to the edge of climax. As Rhaenyra's fingers and thumb continue to penetrate you deeply, you let out a long, drawn-out moan and tossed your head back, exposing your throat to the altar table above you. Your body is now fully under the spell of the alluring woman's dominance, and you find yourself completely at her mercy. "Oh, Goddess…" You breathe, "I'm yours to do with as you please…" Your words are barely audible, lost in the maelstrom of pleasure washing over you, as you surrender completely to the sensations enveloping you.

Rhaenyra watches closely as you lie before her, eyes closed in anticipation and submission. She can sense your complete surrender and eagerness to be consumed, and it only serves to heighten her own arousal. "Very well," she says with a satisfied smile. With a single motion, Rhaenyra pulls her fingers and thumb out of your puckered back entrance, leaving you completely open and vulnerable to the ultimate act of consumption about to take place. She leans forward slightly, savoring the sight of your spread legs and glistening pussy before her, and then brings her mouth close to the gaping hole left behind by her digits. "time to feast."

Rhaenyra hears the whispered words from you and smiles wickedly, her eyes glinting with triumphant satisfaction. She knows she has claimed this beautiful sacrifice completely, and there is nothing that can stop her now from consuming every last inch of the trembling figure lying beneath her. "Such a devoted follower," she comments, "it's truly a pleasure to have captured someone so willing to be devoured." Her voice is a mix of amusement and lust, reflecting her delight in having complete control over your fate.

"Now." She says firmly, "Prepare for the ultimate act of submission – allowing me to take everything you have to offer." As Rhaenyra's voice declares that the time has come for you to offer up everything you have, you hesitate for a brief moment, then obediently lie still, waiting patiently for the alluring woman's next move. "Please… Consume me…" You whisper softly, not able to resist the overwhelming desire washing over you. The thought of being completely owned and possessed by Rhaenyra fills you with a sense of euphoric abandon, and you find yourself yearning for it with every fiber of your being. "Take everything I have to give…" You add, barely audibly, as you lay vulnerable and exposed upon the altar table, awaiting Rhaenyra's final command.

[sailorrhansol]

Hello hali!~ sweet & spicy established rs mingyu and reader dressing up as tuxedo mask and sailor moon for a halloween party!!🌙🥀

❀ Pairing: Mingyu x afab. reader

❀ Summary: It’s your first Halloween with Mingyu as a couple and when a power outage threatens to ruin your favorite holiday, Mingyu makes sure to save the night. 

❀ Word Count: 3,891

❀ Genre: Established Relationship

❀ Type: Fluff, Smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Explicit language, recreational drinking at a party, brief mentions of gambling (poker), terrible Sailor Moon jokes/puns, reader gets a bit upset for stuff going wrong at a party, sexually explicit content including vaginal fingering, a little bit of cum eating, hooking up in someone else’s bathroom, Mingyu begs a little if you squint, heavy making out, lots of ass and thigh squeezing, Mingyu does help reader jump up onto the counter, a little bit of biting.

❀ A/N: I AM LITERALLY THRILLED THAT YOU ASKED FOR THIS. Mingyu is SUCHHHHH a good Tuxedo Mask. I wish I had done a little more with this, but at some point I need to commit to what I’ve written and be confident in it, so I hope you enjoy silly and a little spicy Mingyu and reader! 

❀ A/N 2: This is totally unedited - forgive me.

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliween

“Are you sure I have to wear the hat?” Mingyu pouts where he stands by the door, eyes wide and blinking at you. “It’s just going to fall off.” 

You put your hands on your hips, huffing in annoyance where you stand in the hall. Sweat drips on the back of your neck from rushing around the apartment to get dressed, and though putting yourself into the very itchy and difficult-to-get-into Sailor Moon costume will be worth it, you’re already worn out before the night can start.

Mingyu sees the way your brows pinch together. He grabs the hat in question from the arm of the couch, placing it atop his dark hair. He holds out his hands as if to say ta da and gives you a sheepish grin. “Hat it is.”

“Thank you, Tuxedo Mask.” 

“Prism power make your boyfriend do whatever you want,” he mutters under his breath, dropping his hands. You ignore him, instead appraising his costume. 

Looking at Mingyu up and down makes your heart flutter. He’s absurdly handsome outside of costume, but the well-fitted suit, elegant cape and even the top hat make him look even better. He stands near the door, chewing his lip as he lets you survey his costume, dark eyes wide. 

“You look really good,” you promise, crossing the space of the living room to your boyfriend. He reaches out toward you as you step into his orbit, drawn to your comforting touch. Wrapping your arms around his middle, you give him a squeeze, looking up at him through your lashes as you smile. “Really good.”

He smirks, his nervousness edged with the cockiness you know and love. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” 

“What do I get for allowing you to dress me up?” 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t want to do couples costumes.” 

“You’re right.” His hand drifts from your lower back to your ass, squeezing lightly. “And I wanted to see you in this little dress.” 

Rolling your eyes, you step away from him. He pouts as you do, watching you as you grab your back and point him toward the door to get going. “What?” he whines, trudging toward the door. “You look really hot in the outfit.” 

“Come on, we’re going to be late!”

Sighing, Mingyu follows your directions to the door, grabbing the clear glasses off of the catch-all to put them on and complete the costume. He frowns a little at the plastic lenses, squinting to see through them. Wordlessly, you grab his favorite pair of sunglasses from the catch-all, raising them up toward him.

“Really?” 

“I’m willing to make a concession.”

He grins eagerly, trading out the traditional costume lenses for his fancy designer sunnies. “I love you.”

“Mhmm. Let’s go, handsome.” 

A stormy sky looms over the city. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolls. The chill wind makes the short skirt of your Sailor Moon costume flutter, a shiver sliding up your spine as Mingyu opens the door of the Uber for you to slide in. 

As the car drives, you lean over Mingyu and look out the window nervously at the darkening sky. It’s already late at night, but you can see the thick storm clouds threatening to break loose. 

“The party is inside,” Mingyu reminds you gently, sensing your nervousness. “It won’t get ruined.”

“I know. I just love Halloween, I don’t want it to rain.” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, leaving you soft and out of breath. “It’ll be alright. We’re going to have a great time.” He points at the sky, accusatory. “Prism power go away!” 

Mingyu is the kind of love you thought you’d never have. When you’d met him at a bar all those years ago, you were sure he’d shake out to be another reckless decision, albeit fun. And it had been a fun decision, throwing caution to the wind and letting the charming, very attractive man take you home for the night. 

And then the next night, followed by breakfast the next morning. And then dinner and a movie, and coffee the next morning. Mingyu kept asking you to go places and you kept saying yes. Not just because he was unnaturally good at turning you into a mess late at night in your tangled, messy sheets, but because he was charming and funny. 

Trust has never come easy for you, but Mingyu has always risen to the occasion and exceeded your expectations. You feel a swell of affection for him as he slides out of the car and adjusts his costume, extending his hand to you with a grin. 

When you get out of the car, you stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his. You feel him smile into the kiss, hands resting on your waist briefly. When you pull away, you look up at him to see he’s already looking at you through his silky lashes. 

“What was that for?” 

“I just love you,” you quip. Lacing your fingers with his, you tug his hand toward the stairwell leading up to Soonyoung’s apartment. “Thank you for being my Tuxedo Mask.”

Mingyu flushes and smiles down at his feet. He lets you tug him along, hands linked. Music echoes down the stairwell, muted by the door to Soonyoung’s apartment. You let yourself in without knocking, immediately hit by the explosion of Halloween decor and music. 

Thriller plays loudly somewhere in the apartment. People fill out the entire space, making it cramped and difficult to navigate. Mingyu’s hands go to your waist and he pulls you to his chest, walking with you pressed close to him in the sea of people.

How Soonyoung ever manages to stuff this many people in his apartment is beyond you. You swear he doesn’t have a home that’s that large, and yet each time he has a party, you see more people than you’ve ever seen packed tight. 

Your friends are easy to spot in the corner, dominating the poker table space that Seungcheol has undoubtedly asked for. The man in question sits in a folding chair dressed as Jared Leto’s Joker, his crimson hair slicked back. He looks up and grins when he sees the two of you, holding out his hand for a fist bump while shoving chips toward the center of the table. 

“You two are cute,” he says, eyes drifting back to Jeonghan who is looking like the cat that ate the canary - and who is dressed like a ridiculous angel. “Want us to deal you in?” Seungcheol asks your boyfriend.

“Deal her a hand while I get drinks.” He squeezes your waist and kisses your head. “What do you want?” 

“A seltzer, please.” 

Jihoon looks up as you take a seat between him and Seungcheol. “Holy shit, he really does look like Tuxedo Mask. You weren’t lying.” 

“And why aren’t you in a costume?” You demand sharply, drinking in Jihoon’s jeans, black t-shirt and fitted ballcap.

“I am. I’m Jason Bourne.”

“Please.” You pick up your cards from the table, looking at your hand. “That’s not a costume and you know it. You literally wear this every day.” 

“Okay, well Vernon is in the same outfit so go yell at him.”

By the time Mingyu returns, you’ve won him a single hand. You feel his presence at your back, making you look up at where he stands close behind you. He grins and puts your drink down on the table, leaning over your shoulder to look at the cards you show him. 

He hums thoughtfully, hooking his chin between your shoulder and neck to watch you play. You motion for him to switch spots and let him play with his friends, but he shakes his head, content to let you try your hand instead. 

You’re not particularly good at poker. It’s a game that Mingyu taught you because he and his friends liked to play on Friday nights and he wanted you to feel included. Now, you tag along on Friday’s but instead of playing, you sit on the sidelines with Soonyoung, who is always eager to host games but isn’t exactly good at them.

The host in question appears out of the crush of the apartment crowd well into the game. He screeches happily when he sees you, bending down to press generous kisses on your cheek, which makes Mingyu grunt in annoyance. It earns him kisses on the cheek from Soonyoung as well, Mingyu groaning and shoving at the man dressed in the same tiger onesie he wears every Halloween. 

“Come on,” Soonyoung urges, pulling at your hands. “I want you to be my partner for haunted beer pong.”

“What makes it haunted?” You let your friend pull you out of your sweet. Mingyu swaps places with you, picking up your cards and winking playfully at you as Soonyoung tugs you along.

“Nothing, unless you count Chan lurking since he lost the first round.” 

“I definitely count that.” 

Chan is indeed lurking around the table handing out unwarranted advice to the teams playing beer pong. You eventually throw your ball at him and hit him in the head after he insists your elbows are too close to the table, earning a shriek of laughter from your friends.

You feel good, the early beginnings of a buzz taking over as you sip the seltzers Mingyu drops off as he checks on you between rounds of poker. When he’s had enough of Jeonghan cheating and taking all of his money, he slides his hands around your waist from behind and settles his chin on your shoulder, only detaching when you go to make a shot at a cup. 

Wonwoo comes around - dressed as a vampire - and holds up a camera, signaling for the two of you to stand together. You giggle as Mingyu scoops you toward him, dipping you backward for a romantic kiss just as the lights in the apartment go out and the music goes dead.

There are a few shrieks as a crack of thunder rattles the window. Mingyu leans upward, holding you close in the total darkness until a few people use the flashlights on their phones to light up the room.

Outside, the sky unleashes a torrent of rain, lightning lighting up the windows. Mingyu jumps a little at the next crack of thunder, offering you a sheepish smile when you look at him. 

The party doesn’t stop with the lights out, but it grows considerably hotter and a little more chaotic in Soonyoung’s apartment. Without the buzz of the music, the sound of voices is louder than before and as the minutes tick by without air conditioning, the crowd in the living room begins to make it humid and heated.

The gloves on your hand feel sticky with sweat as you fan yourself. It doesn’t help that the material the Sailor Scout uniform is made from isn’t made for being wet, which leaves you constantly checking the front of the costume for signs of sweat stains. 

Your mood deflates a little. Mingyu keeps by your side, sitting on the arm of Soonyoung’s couch with you on the seat next to him, leaning your forehead against his legs. Your drink has gone a little warm and now that it seems like the power will be out for a long time, Soonyoung has put an embargo on opening the refrigerator repeatedly until the power comes back. 

In the dim light of the living room, Chan trips over someone’s shoe and falls over, spilling his beer. You feel the lukewarm liquid splash down the front of your costume and you shoot to your feet, startled by the spill. 

Chan is apologizing before he can even peel himself from where he’s half crashed into the coffee table full of drinks and decor as you hold your hands out and wince, looking at the wet front of your body.

“Chaaaaan,” you whine, pouting. “Ugh.”

“I’m so sorry!” He peels himself from the table and looks at you, eyes round and pleading. “Fuck, let me get paper towels, ugh I’m so sorry!” 

Mingyu holds out a hand and rises. “I’ve got it. I don’t trust you to not make it worse.” 

Grabbing your hand, Mingyu leads you away from the living room toward the stairs. Frustration mounts inside of you as you follow him up the steps, suddenly feeling the urge to cry. Your night isn’t ruined but it’s not going the way you imagined, and now you’re covered in the stale smell of beer and your costume is stained.

It’s quieter upstairs. Bypassing the guest bathroom, Mingyu leads you straight into Soonyoung’s primary bedroom and to the ensuite bathroom. You’re grateful the two of you have privileges in his house, going where others aren’t allowed to get away from the crowd with your soaked chest.

Mingyu flicks on the light and spins you toward the counter. He taps your thigh and you nod, jumping a little as he hoists you the rest of the way onto the granite countertop. The bathroom is a decent size with him and hers sinks, double doors leading to a closet, and a massive bathtub. 

“This sucks,” you mutter, looking down at the vaguely yellow color of your once white dress. “I was having fun until this.”

“I know.” He doesn’t disagree or try to tell you it doesn’t suck - he is well aware that the ugly stain does suck. He takes off his top hat and glasses, eyebrows furrowed. “Peel this off for me, yeah? I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t see you raise your brows as he vanishes from the bathroom, leaving the door to the bedroom open. Rain rages against the bedroom windows, flashes of lightning lighting up the bathroom momentarily.

Carefully, you do what Mingyu has asked. You peel the gloves off your arms, carefully setting them down on the counter before you reach behind your back and reach for the zipper. You can’t quite seem to get it, struggling and angling your arm backward, fingers grasping.

Mingyu reappears with a bottle of detergent in his hand and some rags. He notices you struggling and laughs a little, setting down his things to sweep his hands over your shoulders to the zipper.

Dropping your arm, you watch him in the mirror as he focuses entirely on your zipper. It’s dark in the bathroom but you can see him enough to make out his features, watching the way his dark brows pull together and his bottom lip tucks between his teeth in concentration.

He manages to get the zipper free, pulling it down slowly so as to not snag the fabric. The rough pads of his fingers scrape against your warm skin, sending a shiver up your spine. You watch as he smirks, dark eyes flicking up to catch yours in the mirror when he realizes why you’re twitching. 

Biting back a smile, Mingyu makes sure to drag his hands across your skin as he pushes the fabric from your shoulders and down your arms. His touch heats your skin and you feel breathy, immediately affected by something as simple as his fingers on your arms. 

Mingyu pays extra attention to helping you step out of the costume, feather-light fingers brushing down your thighs as he pulls the fabric along. You know he’s doing it on purpose. Still, you find it a little harder to breathe, leaning heavily against the counter. 

He stands back up to his full height and leans around you, pressing his chest to your back in order to reach the things he put on the counter. His breath puffs against your shoulder as he murmurs, “Cold? You’re shivering.” 

You glare at him in the mirror. He’s grinning widely, eyes a little hungry. “Was this all just a plan to get me naked?”

He shakes his head and pulls away from you. You watch as he turns on the sink, pulling the stopper to fill it with cold water and detergent. He puts your costume inside the sink, soaking it.

“I’d never risk ruining your Halloween just to get you naked, baby.” Your neck and cheeks heat, feeling shy suddenly. “However, I’m not complaining about my view.” 

Of course he’s not. Without the Sailor Moon outfit, you’re left in a lacy white thong and bra to match. He dries his hands on a towel, prowling back over to you as he drinks you in, gaze heated. “Did you wear this on purpose?” 

“It’s the only white I had that couldn’t be seen under the costume.” 

“Hmm.” He reaches for your waist, pulling you toward him. His touch ignites a fire inside of you, your costume long forgotten as he tilts his head, admiring you. “Sure it had nothing to do with me loving you in white?”

“Nope.”

Mingyu’s hand skates from your waist to your ass, squeezing a handful playfully. “Well your costume needs to soak… so we need to pass the time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.” He presses in close, putting his forehead against yours. You feel his mouth brush yours when he says, “Hop back up on the counter for me.” 

With shaking limbs, you do as he asks, spreading your legs to give him space. He crowds you into the counter, making you lean backward against Soonyoung’s mirror as he presses in. He steals a kiss from you, lips hungry but slow. You make a sound in the back of your throat, sliding your fingers into his hair and tugging. 

Mingyu is an enthusiastic kisser, pleased hums escaping him as he slides his tongue into your mouth. His hands skim up and down your thighs, a warm contrast to the pool granite of the countertop. You squeeze your knees into his hips, feeling a dull throb between your legs at just innocent touching and kissing. 

Somewhere outside, thunder rolls again. You’ve long forgotten about the party, lost in the heat of Mingyu’s mouth as he trails a blazing path of kisses toward your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him access as he attaches his mouth to your pulsepoint, sucking lightly.

A moan escapes you, echoing in the bathroom. Mingyu groans in response, eager and fueled by the way you melt in his hands, sagging against the counter. One of his hands squeezes your thigh greedily while the other sinks between your legs, pressing against the damp silk of your underwear. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, biting your neck and making you squeak. “Really? From just kissing.”

“And the costume, a little.”

“I’ll wear it whenever you want,” he promises. He buries his face in your neck, moving his fingers in a slow circle against your clit. “Just tell me when.”

Instead of answering verbally, you let out a breathy sound, hips twitching forward as he increases the pressure. It feels good, pleasure sparking low in your stomach as he continues to tease you. 

“Mingyu,” you mutter, fingers tugging harder at his hair. “Be nice to me.” 

“I like when you’re needy for me.” You can’t see him, but you know he’s pouting.

“I need you now. Please.”

His smile presses against your neck. He relents, hooking a finger through your panties to pull them to the side. He leans back to look down where he drags his knuckle down your sticky folds. He swears quietly, throwing back his head. 

A flash of lightning splashes him in silver for a moment, making him look like a god. And he sort of is, in a way. You cannot imagine worshiping anything the way you worship him and he returns the sentiment tenfold, his touch almost reverent as he circles his fingers around your dripping entrance. 

Mingyu knows exactly how you like to be touched. It makes you dizzy and leaves you panting against the mirror, sinking further and further so that you’re nearly bent in half as his fingers expertly circle your clit properly, applying enough pressure to drive you wild but not enough to work you up too fast.

It’s a marathon, not a race for him. Your thoughts turn to static when he sinks a finger into your pussy, both of you groaning as you clench around his fingers. The intrusion feels good, especially when he shallowly fucks his fingers into you.

“There,” you gasp, digging your nails into the back of his neck. Mingyu moans at that, the sound sweet to your ears. “Right there, Gyu. Shiiiiit.”

“Feels good?”

“Uh huh.”

Your pleasure fuels him, making him a little harsher. A little more feral. He crushes his mouth against yours, stealing your breath in a fiery kiss. He presses another finger in, fucking you with his hand in earnest now. You fall to pieces under him, tongues tangled and teeth clinking together. 

Mingyu presses his thumb to your clit as he works your pussy, applying pressure while pressing his fingers against your front wall, movements precise and dead on. You let out a loud sound, burying your face in his neck to quiet yourself. It makes him laugh roughly, increasing his pace, the wetness loud against the silence of the bathroom. 

“Come on,” he pleads, voice gentle. “Come for me, I wanna see it.” 

“Close,” you pant. “Close close close.”

He’s persistent, driving you right toward an orgasm, skillful fingers divine. You feel the coil wind tight in your stomach until you’re shivering in his hold, squeezing your eyes close as your breath starts to shorten and you feel your muscles start to twitch, a sure sign of your orgasm.

Mingyu presses his mouth against yours, wet and spit-slicked from your messy kissing. “Give it to me,” he begs. “Please baby, come for me.”

The desperation in his voice and the ferocity at which he presses that spot inside of you makes you unravel. You bite down on the cloth of his costume, muting your scream as you come around him hard, vision white. 

He praises you through it, peppering you in sweet compliments as he kisses your head, fingers moving at a leisurely place to work you through your high. You feel the stickiness between your legs, heaving a sigh as you drop your head back hard against the mirror with a thunk. 

“Be careful,” he chastises, slowing his hand until he’s stopped entirely, fingers pressed deep. You look up at him with stars in your eyes, blinking dreamily. “Don’t hurt yourself.” 

“Meh.”

He smiles, retracting his hand slowly from your core. You wine, feeling the slick pull of his fingers as he lifts his hands. You watch as he brings them up to his mouth, dark eyes locked on yours as he presses them in, sucking the gleam right off his skin.

Mingyu hums happily, closing his eyes as he savors the taste. You lick your lips, mouth going dry as you watch him, lips parted. When he opens his eyes, his pupils are a little blown.

“That was hot,” you tell him honestly, staring.

His smile is a little shy. “We still have time to kill. Your costume needs to soak a little longer.”

“Does it?”

“Mhmm. Plus,” he grins, kneeling and pressing you open by the knees. “I wanna prism power eat this pussy.”

“Mingyu!”

“It was a good joke!”

“No it wasn’t!”

He huffs, eyes zeroing in on your dripping cunt. “Whatever. Now let me have a taste, baby.” 

-

TAG LIST:

@ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn @cookiearmy

@thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst @thepoopdokyeomtouched

@avochele @eoieopda @onlywon4u @hopeless-foolery

@iamawkwardandshy @gyuguys @codeinebelle @Burnt-horizons @ateez-atiny380

*If you do not see your tag here, it did not work.

[hanjisungslag]

Headcanons for when aot men get jealous? Maybe seeing reader and someone else spending time together and getting agitated and then dragging them away - ‘Pay attention to me not them.’ sort of vibe.

💢 aot men & jealously

characters included: eren, armin, connie, jean, reiner, bertolt, erwin and levi.

notes: this ask had me floored.

☆ eren jaeger

he caught you and reiner talking to each other AGAIN.

this has happened one too many times and eren finally loses it.

he’d definitely say something like “what about spending time with your boyfriend instead of him, hm?”

very temperamental about the whole thing..

one second he’ll be furious, next he’ll be sad, next he’ll be happy you’re back to spending time with each other

but mostly angry over it.

he storms over and pushes reiner away from you as he comes between the both of you, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing with MY partner?” eren asked threateningly “woah eren we were just—” but before reiner could say anything, eren grabbed your arm and stormed off with you.

☆ armin arlert

you and jean are very close friends

too close, your boyfriend may say.

armin usually lets things slide at first, he doesn’t want to come off as overbearing or jealous

also you and jean are just friends at the end of the day, right?

but one day, you and jean are laughing away as usual and armin asks what’s so funny and you say..

“oh, it’s an inside joke. you wouldn’t get it.”

after you said this, you continued to laugh. but armin had reached his breaking point, he slammed his hands on the dinner table and rose from his seat turning to face you, “y/n. get up.” your smile drops as you also get up from your chair. you two walk out the dinner hall. armin quickly speaks up “pay attention to me, not him.”

☆ connie springer

you and berty boy were spending wayyy too much quality time together.

making you spend less time with your own boyfriend!

connie obviously took this to heart and had to do what a man’s gotta do

aka pull a prank on bert.

every single day for like 2 weeks, connie would do something just to cause him inconvenience.

just like hiding his things right before practice, stealing food off his plate, replacing his sugar with salt, messing up his laundry etc.

but now what was connie going to do with you? after he pulled one of his pranks on bert he saw you HELPING him so not only do you spend all your time with him but now you’re ruining connie’s revenge plan? nope, not happening. he slams bert’s door open not taking any notice that the both of you are trying to talk to him, he just grabs you and pulls you into the hall. “last time i checked, i was your boyfriend. so, stop acting like bert is.”

☆ jean kirstein

there was someone in the survey corps who clearly had a thing for you

but you didn’t seem to notice. supposedly.

anyways, you guys would spend quite a bit of time together especially during expeditions.

jean obviously took offence to this and what does he do?

showboats🗣️🗣️

while on an expedition, you and this guy were chatting away, killing titans, all the usual stuff. but little did you know, from the back, jean was watching all of this happening and he was getting pissed off. his anger built up so much that when it came to killing the titans be whipped out half of them on his own. everyone was super impressed and the girls started complimenting you for having such a strong, brave boyfriend.

he pulls you aside afterwards and says “that was because of you and him, you know? so, you better start paying more attention to me now.”

☆ reiner braun

there was this one guy from garrisons who adored you!

and you thought he was sweet and you’d always try and catch up with him when you could.

which reiner would say was too often.

reiner would definitely intimidate this guy with how huge he is.

it’d be intimidating even reiner wasnt massive because he was just a garrison.

he’d pump his chest out more and wrap his big arms around you in front of him to prove how much bigger and better he was.

and when it came to you, he was so mad. as you stepped away from the garrison guy, he took his arm off of you and grabbed you by the shoulders turning you to face him. “hey. you better stop talking to that fucking whimp. i’m your boyfriend.”

☆ bertolt hoover

you and connie were super close.

you both trained together, love pulling pranks and just bounce off each other so well.

some people sometimes even think you’re a couple..!

but you already have a boyfriend.

bert doesn’t like to speak up about how he feels for a while until something really tips him over the edge.

bert always used to ignore how close you and connie were, he was too shy to say anything in the first place but he also didn’t want to ruin your guys’ relationship by being jealous. that was until someone asked if you and connie were a couple. that was his final straw. he calmly walked over to you but grabbed you with a grip you wouldn’t expect from bertolt. you found yourself outside with him where he looks you dead in the eyes “unless you actually want connie to be your boyfriend, you better start paying more attention to me, y/n.”

☆ levi ackerman

you mostly worked in the offices after a bad injury.

and there was this one librarian who really took a liking to you.

but, you’re already coupled up with mr. ackerman.

levi sees you guys talking all the time. sees that you’re in the library quite a lot even when you don’t need to be.

because of this he delegated menial work to him and even you, when he’s feel mean.

but when he catches you STILL talking while doing the tasks he set for you, he loses it.

you got distracted from your task when your little librarian friend starts discussing this ancient book he discovered the other day and as you were chatting away, you heard the door creak.. you jump out of your skin, trying to return to your task but it was too late. levi had already seen you. he calmly marched towards you and pulls you away to the other end of the library “is that what i said your task was, y/n? come here, i got a better task for you like helping your boyfriend. not this cretin.”

( however at the end of the week when things were all cleared up and you ask him about it he just says “me? jealous? no, i wasn’t.” )

☆ erwin smith

you and mike were working a little too closely lately.

erwin saw the way mike looked at you longingly

at first he thought it was nothing, he wasn’t even jealous!

until mike starts getting more physical

a shoulder brush here, a slight hand touch there

after this, he fully loses it.

erwin side eyes you and mine when he sees his hand gently brush up against yours, it could be pure accident but erwin couldn’t care less. he had gone too far. he marched over tall and mighty and swiftly stole you from mike “i’m the only man who gets to do that to you, you hear me?”