#alma singing with like anyone

[brynnterpretations]

DATING VICTORIA NEUMAN ♥

Headcanons for Boss!Victoria Neuman x Reader

⌗ female reader ⌗ age difference ⌗ power imbalance ⌗ but make it cute?

Meeting

Fresh out of college, you started working at the Federal Bureau of Superhuman Affairs (FBSA, thank you very much). Your family had an awful history with Compound V, with your mother's side shooting it up into their kids like candy to make mini-superheroes, so you wanted to make sure work and restrictions were enforced that enforced everyone's safety. You never wanted anyone to go through what you did.

You had an impressive resume and an even more impressive academic history, but that came with few friends. You bonded with Hughie first — he was the one to interview you and, unbeknownst to you, sing your praises to Victoria — but you weren't expecting to really bond with anyone else.

Since you hadn't had any other experiences outside of internships, academics, and part-time jobs you held during college and high school, you were assigned to very low-level work, and the colleagues you met with, while amicable, weren't anyone you really had much in common with, so you mostly stuck to daily texts and meme exchanges with Hughie.

However, Victoria made it a point to treat you better than anyone else at your internships (or even university) had. It started small, with her coming over and making conversation with you since you both had shared the same alma mater. She would bring you your favorite coffee when she stopped by Jitter Bean, which she inexplicably knew, and give you little knick-knacks like gum and stress balls to keep you occupied. It was sweet.

Eventually, though, it became larger. She’d ask for a work meeting, and while you’d meet up at one of the lovely but stuffy cafés in SoHo and talk this-and-that about work, it always devolved into you smiling and laughing with each other. Too,

Throughout this, you started seeing Victoria as a friend, honestly. You exchanged numbers and sent her photos of your crafts and pets, and she, her cooking. You talked to each other about your hopes and aspirations.

Eventually, the supposed work meeting invitations stopped, and she began flatly asking you out to coffee or lunch. Eventually, she started inviting you over to her house, too, and you met her daughter and pets.

Meanwhile, all this time, you're freaking out because you are very quickly falling for her, but she is your boss, goddammit. It's your first job, ever, and you feel like a fish out of water. Anyway, you're probably reading way too much into it, and it's inappropriate to think of your boss in this way.

However, when Victoria shows up outside your apartment one night with flowers and a small, coy smile on your face, things change.

During

You are always her plus-one. Always.

Food and drinks are a very big part of your relationship; growing up in Red River Institute, Vicky didn't have access to very good cuisine, so she always makes it a point to cook, eat, and drink yummy things. You love taking each other out to places in NYC, whether they're extravagant eateries or small family businesses, and treating each other.

And, to a similar point: coffee, coffee, coffee. Vicky's not particularly picky about her coffee — most of the time, it's to fuel her throughout her long shifts — so you two often go to the 24/7 Jitter Bean at least twice a day.

Vicky has a hard time taking care of herself; as much as she loves to cook, she oftentimes forgets to eat, and puts her main focus on her daughter. Because of that, you make it a point to always bring her water, food, snacks, etc. throughout the day, and hijacked her phone to set reminders to take care of herself when you weren't there to pester her (she finds it very cute, though, even if she'll playfully wave you off).

You both have each other on Life360, with Vicky suggesting it after the courtroom incident, and you both definitely do that dorky thing couples do where they send stuff like "charge ur phone" or, when the app is glitching and showing you in a river or some weird location, "what are you doing at __?" .

Even though you're dating, Vicky still expects top-notch work, and pushes you to work your hardest. You may be cute, but that's not how you get promotions, pumpkin.

(Expect at least two promotions during your relationship, though).

Vicky will often ask you to work after hours on random stuff (that does need to be done, for what it's worth) and surprise you with a kiss and something sweet, whether it's a trinket she found that reminded her of you or a bar of chocolate.

While Vicky was charmed by you from the start, the end-all-be-all to her was you and Zoe getting along, and you two do, stemming from you and Zoe's bonding over the Warrior Cats series. You help Zoe with her math homework every Tuesday and Thursday, and you three go out for a fun activity and lunch on Saturdays.

It's moments you share like these where Vicky really, really knows she wants to marry you.

However, Vicky does have her anxieties about your relationship. While she's let one or two things slip, her past isn't full knowledge to you, and she fears that you'll see or think of her differently if you knew who she was, what she'd done, and what she'd be capable of.

When you notice what's wrong, she wouldn't be fully forthcoming about the reasons why, but as long as you responded with care, comfort, and an affirmation that you'll always be by her side, she'll be able to loosen up.

I don't imagine her being very public about your relationship, but I doubt she'd hide it, either. I think it would be very much an "open secret" in the office.

After-Hours (NSFW)

18+ only.

Victoria loves giving you hickeys. One of her favorite things to do is give you a hickey dangerously close to your collarbone — just enough that a hint of it can show if your blouse slips — for the danger of it.

Really, she's heavy on the adrenaline aspect of sex. She loves risk. She has a huge thing for semi-public sex, and oftentimes will take you into the bathroom or storage closet and whisper in your ear to keep quiet. Once, she tried a remote-control vibrator on you during a work meeting, pushing you to a crescendo, making you horrified of cumming, before denying you. You almost cried in front of Hughie.

So, suffice to say, that had to stop.

To that extent, though, she always tries to make you blush during work meetings; whether it's giving you the look or sneaking a message with heavy undertones to you while Goldwater is prattling on about whatever-the-fuck, she tries pushing your limits and enjoys seeing you squirm.

Victoria prefers to have sex in ways where she fully feels control over you, where your euphoria comes from her own body; she goes crazy for fingering you and especially for eating you out.

However, she's not opposed to strap-ons and other toys, and finds them pretty fun and a way to spice things up.

She would definitely be into bondage, but hasn't given it much thought; if you asked, though, she'd do research and do it head-on, adorably so. When Vicky commits, she commits, and when she commits, she takes color-coordinated notes on BDSM etiquettes, different toys and their uses, so on and so forth.

When she has particularly stressful days, she prefers for you to take the lead, leading to soft, gentle, intimate sex where you slowly unravel her with your tongue.

Aftercare galore for both of you.

[honestsycrets]

Amor y Respeto II: Corazón [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

chapter I: mi alma

❛ pairing | miguel o’hara x reader

❛ type | continuation of one shot.

❛ summary | you're trying to forget miguel with hobie's help on the field. but miguel isn't quite ready to let go.

❛ tags | jealousy, latina reader, slightly nsfw (only nudity), spanish is not translated, some mention of blood and wounds, violence, some paranoia, miguel is not pleased, an attempt was made at british slang, some creative liberties.

❛ sy’s notes | gif credit to aehanse. a little reference to gilgamesh with a golden bull in this chapter because i wanted a simple anomaly and for some reason a golden bull just makes me giggle a bit.

Miguel only left Nueva York for very important reasons. Very important reasons usually entailed a little stress relief at the end of a very stressful day. Very important reasons like your gentle fingertips running over his sweaty chest. Very important reasons like your plush lips wrapped around his--

“No chance,” Lyla chittered in his ear. “There’s the whole ‘I don’t love you’ thing. And that kiss?” 

A headache was brewing: everything twinkled, glistened, and refracted light.

“I was there, Lyla. Could do without the reminder.” 

“Really because--” 

“I can fix it,” Miguel growled, clawing past the tall buildings rife with beautiful flowers. It was your favorite time of year. The perfect time to go to the balcony and wait for him to follow behind, to pick off the yellow pollen that dusted his burnt umber hair.

When he finally breached your plant-filled balcony, the window was open despite his warnings to keep it closed. You loved the light and drew the blinds open day by day to let in the bright light of the day. In contrast, he could have done without the bright light streaming in during his early morning visits. That wasn’t wholly the issue. The issue was anyone who wanted to watch you sleep in your love-rustled sheets could. He could.

Miguel’s hands hooked on his slender hips. He glanced at the offensive presence of a singular powdery pink rose in a vividly graffitied cup that he hadn’t given you. He didn't need to guess to know who had. As your shorthair cat trotted into your bedroom, he realized that the rest of the apartment was empty. He wouldn’t be mewing at him if you were singing in the kitchen and making cookies that he shouldn’t eat. It's little, you would guilt him and squish a bite-sized morsel in his mouth. 

Miguel jerked his head to the side and threw a look at Lyla. She threw up her hands in response. They came to the same conclusion. “The roof?” 

There wasn't a worse time to climb the last few floors of your apartment. Light battered his senses as the sun crested past the rooftops of your city and emitted pastel crystal hues. Soon, the night would fall on your busy city and cloak it in darkness. In the darkness, problems always arose.

"Se dice-- never mind, it's a pastellio," you brushed off the small chunks of crystal that nipped at your forearms and picked a chunk up off of a paper-thin napkin. The crumbly remnants held their own memories. Memories of your fingers sealing pastry dough over a cool picadillo, arguing about the quality of HQ cafeteria’s empanadas all by yourself despite knowing that he liked them. They didn’t taste the same lately.

“Tastes like a meat pie,” Hobie waggled a crusty corner. “Must be a meat pie.” 

You brought the rim of an opaque brown glass bottle to your lips. The malt drink coursed down your throat slowly, leaving your throat cool and refreshed. Just the way you wanted to feel after a long day of work. “If that’s a meat pie, this is beer.” 

Hobie-- Miguel sneered. There had some alternative, impure reason he was here. Maybe it was to piss him off, to distract him from the work really at hand. If that was it, he lamented, he was doing a good job. Why else would he be here?

“A kiddy beer,” he flicked over one of his empty beer bottles. “Listen. You coming to see the concert?” 

“Whose?” 

“Mines, who else?” he answered. “Gwen’ll be there.” 

“It’s not really my scene, Hobie,” you said. “Don't you think I’m a bit old for that sort of thing?” 

“Old?” Hobie chirped after you. You swayed under the force of his playful punch to your shoulder and returned one to his willowy arm. Your eyes turned back to the crystalized sun dipping beneath the horizon. He sucked his tongue against the roof of his tongue. “Letting that muppet shoot his cum in ya is the only thing that’s gonna make you old. Complicit. You wanna be complicit?” 

“¡Fo! Gross, stop,” you dropped your drink to the side and flopped back onto the unforgiving concrete roof. But he had a point, your palm migrated over your belly. His spunk was probably still wiggling around in your stomach. Miguel simpered in the shadows.

“You never see these autocrats for who they are," he lamented.

“It has nothing to do with… Hobie. Hobie, my love isn’t politic--”

“Everything is political.” 

“Hobie, I take care of him-- them,” you motioned to your city, glittering in the fading sunlight. “For love and laughter. That’s what we all deserve. Love and laughter. Miguel wants it too, he’s just,” Incapable or unwilling, you suppressed. “Complicated.” 

“Complicated,” Hobie spat out as though it offended him. “It ain't complicated to me. He don’t love you. Half the time he don’t even like you.” 

“But I love him.” 

“His love? It ain’t enough.” 

“It matters to me.” 

A low growl emanated from his deep chest. It was enough to cause your heads to wrack around in his direction. Miguel steeled his body against the wall he dangled from, shielded in the dark crystally shadows of a mural.

“Should we--” you stared at the wall, eyes narrowing.

Fuck.

“Ain’t nothing to be worried about. Probably a rat— a big rat,” Hobie lurched over your body. His long and lanky arms caged your body beneath him. It was a universe apart from Miguel’s well-corded arms, broad and strong. Arms that, at the moment, Miguel used not to spring off the wall.

“It’s his muscles.”

“¡Ay cállate! Why is it always his muscles?” You ruptured into laughter and reached up to push him away by his thick wicks. You crawled out from underneath Hobie and stretched out your arms behind your back. Tension unwound from Miguel with an exhale of stale air from his lungs.

“You got a type,” Hobie lazed his elbow over his knee. 

“You don’t know any of my exes, Hobie,” you swept up your trash and covered your head with your rebozo-like cowl. At that exact moment, your watch blared. “And you ain’t know mine, either.”

“Vente, Corazón. I have a call.”

Corazón?

“Can’t handle it yourself?” Hobie hopped up and adjusted his guitar, slouching off his shoulder. 

“Just because I can, doesn't mean I have to,” you took a step to the edge of the rooftop. You turned your hands up. “C'mon, I’ll even make you cookies.” 

Make him cookies. You would change out of your blood-smattered outfit into a little slip to make Hobie, a man that you knew he had a very poor opinion of, cookies. A man that was reckless in life, reckless in HQ, and would not take orders that didn’t benefit his perception of the world. His breathing hitched, heavy and sharp, to keep his rage in check. If you respected him, you would never invite Hobie anywhere near your apartment. Especially not at night. What were you thinking? 

“That your way of keeping me for the night?” Hobie asked. “Think I’ll get lucky?”

“Is it working?” 

You looked Hobie over once, starting at his boots and ending at Hobie’s pierced lip. Your lips budded in a terrible smile. A look that Miguel did not like, not at all. You turned and stepped off the building, out of his field of vision. Hobie followed soon after.

The sun faded far past the horizon, cloaking Miguel in solitary indigo darkness. His fingers teased the ochre face of his watch-- he had things to do.

You didn’t need backup. 

You crawled out of the rubble of one of your favorite flower shops. Bits of lavender crystal embedded in your arm drew blood down your arm. As of late, it felt as though you couldn’t do anything right. Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life and fixed the amateur mistakes you were making day by day without mentioning your incompetence. He was good to you.

This time was different. You recognized this anomaly from another time, but not another place. It was here, at the intersection of Cereza and Trini, that months ago that Miguel and you-- No, you did not need backup. You didn’t need him.

The thick, muscular leg of the stupid bull stormed by. The thing was comically obnoxious. Just as obnoxious as the ache in your chest every morning when you woke up alone in your bed with Miguel visiting… not even once in the past few days. You wondered if he even thought of you.

“Miss Spider lady, are you okay?” a little girl with thick brown pom-pom puff hair and the warmest caramel eyes asked. Usually, she sold singular flowers at the cash register of her parent’s shop. You hated to think what hardship would come to them because of your inadequacy. If you could control your emotions, as Miguel rang true, this never would have happened.

“Si, si, Zaniah,” your head spun with the pain radiating from your side. You broke something, and of course, it wasn’t healing. You blamed him. Your feet stumbled forward in a line. You didn’t want to see the headlines of this one. Most spiders dealt with villains worth the name, villains with prowess. You? A shiny fucking bull from heaven. “No te preocupes, go, go.” 

“Mami, mami!” the little girl shrieked and bolted, her flowy purple cape dissipated as she disappeared into the back. You felt bad for the mother that would have to deal with that for the next few days as you broke into a run, flexing your wrist for webbing. 

If you could just-- trip the damn thing. Then, somehow, with enough time you could… oh, you didn’t know, bind its legs? Or bind its legs first then tip? But where would you even tip without casualties? Maybe, if you were lucky, you could lure it to the river-- but that was on the outskirts of town. You were running out of time. You had to deal with it. Had to. What would that little girl think? What would Miguel think? 

“You sure you don’t need backup?” Lyla asked, her gilded frame bending at the waist. "Because you look like you need backup."

“Si,” you hissed. “I am sure, Lyla. I don’t need anyone. And I especially don't need Miguel. I got this.” 

Your red boots connected with its fuzzy back. Its great, golden chain skid across the concrete floor, emitting an awful hissing noise. You seized its collar and jammed your heels into its back to try and force the thing to heel. It wasn’t. Despite your strength, you weren’t strong enough to do it on your own. The pressure on the side of your rib cage was becoming immense. Breathing became a chore. 

“No you don’t,” she sang. 

It was moments later that the bull howled pitifully. It slid on its side, crunching old cars and taking out rusty street lamps under its thick muscle. Despite digging your heels in, the damn thing whirled you off like a children’s dreidel. The force of the impact thrust you off its back and into a rusty tow truck. The pain burned low in your back. Hobie: to the rescue again. At some point, you were going to have to give him something better than cookies.

“Get up,” rasped your backup, cloaked in vast dark blue and red. Not Hobie, then. Your hazy eyes were playing tricks on you. You heaved out rattly breaths as you obeyed, or tried to obey the dumb big man in your life.

It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Heavy and hard, your limbs fought the attempt to move. Before you could complain a minute further about how fucking infuriating it was to have him run to your aid, your world eclipsed into the darkness. 

You woke up with a pulsing headache and the very unwelcome sight of Jess. Through her yellowy glasses, you recognized her colorful kaleidoscope of emotions: annoyance, derision, and eventually… relief. It wasn’t the infirmary. The bed was too comfortable for that. You quickly realized that you were in his room with nothing but one of his annoying tech bandages mummified to your chest. You knew from that alone that you were in for it-- if not for her face becoming increasingly more stoic. They should have been siblings.

“You needed backup,” her arms encircled her belly. “Didn’t you?” 

Your eyes fell to the soft sheets that tickled your skin. Breathing was still hard, harder with the anxiety of knowing a lecture was headed your way. You couldn’t lie to Jess. Tears pricked your cheeks and you tried to steel your heart from them.

It was impossible. His room overwhelmed you: from his rich scent that perfumed the sheets you laid on to the air you breathed. He was close by. That alone was more stress than you could handle.

“I know Jess. I needed backup. Pero, the anomaly, it was-- I thought I could handle it.” 

“Pero nothing,” she held a gloved hand up. “Girl, I don’t need your excuses.” 

“But I’ve called Hobie too much this week.” 

“Is Hobie the only one here? You could have called me. Or-- and I’m just being crazy here. Miguel? Your man?” she rolled her head toward the back of the room. She must not have heard. You followed her gaze to where he stood, his uniform flopped unceremoniously about his waist. Your heart strummed and skipped a beat. With her words, Miguel turned his eyes up from the wound at his waist-- to your eyes. They pierced your heart in the darkness. He would have come.

“You know what? I’ll just leave you two alone.” 

“No, no, no Jess, por favor--” She left without another word. Punishment in its own right. Your hand approached your chest, covering your cleavage from his sight. His hand swayed over the pad to lock the door shut. 

Your head dropped back on his flat pillows. Whether it was the bundles of discomfort at his presence or actual shots of pain, the awkward silence was growing increasingly too much for you to handle. He brought you here, into his bed, for a reason you couldn’t understand. You both were done. Finished. Miguel didn’t seem to think so.

“You act as if I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Maybe, he had seen you naked before. He had no right to anymore. You opened your eyes to look at him, noting the strong scent of sweat permeating his skin and the warm sheen that dusted his chest. You had your increased senses to thank for that. You swallowed air in forceful gulps and burrowed painful shockwaves in your chest. If nothing else, you could at least swallow pain with some honor.

Everything that Miguel did had a purpose. You couldn’t help but eye the way his thumbs looped around his waistband to draw his pants lower, freeing his swarthy skin from indigo fabric. Your eyes fell on his flaccid cock that sat on a tuffet of his thick black pubic hair, chased the curve sight of his shapely ass, and settled on his strong rideable thighs. It was the least egregious sight to stare at. He slipped the suit over his shoulder, raising his brown brows in unison. 

“And as if you haven’t seen me naked before, either.” 

“It… it’s been a while.” Your eyes darted past his figure to the door. You were sure it was locked.

"Has it really?" Miguel threw out as he disappeared into his bathroom. For a moment, you debated running. Your heart ached with the knowledge that he would just come to find you. He left knowing that you would not disobey him because, after everything, you respected his wishes. 

What Miguel's wishes were today was up for debate. The only thing you were sure of was the gentle pitter-patter of water droplets, the steam that emanated from the bath, and his lofty figure swaying in the distance. The warm certainty that filled your body knowing that he would come back to bed. Because that’s what Miguel did when you were hurt: he paid attention. 

He came back into the room nude, ruffling his hair with a fluffy towel. You couldn’t convince yourself to act as if you were asleep. His presence shattered any illusion of ignoring him, even with the expressionless way he considered you tonight. He was utterly intolerable.

After an eternity boxed in with your thoughts, reality came as Miguel, a smooth wall of muscle, clambered into the bed. The bed shifted under Miguel’s weight. Just as you predicted, the warmth of his chest was against your slight back and his large palm was flat against your stomach. 

You broke up with him for a reason, you broke up with him for a reason— Miguel didn’t seem to care about those delicate details. He caressed your neck with his nose. His lips dragged over your unmarked skin. As certain as a clock was to click, your body became slick with anticipation. You knew he could tell. 

You were weak. Weak out there. Weak in here. Weak everywhere.

“You smell… different.”

“Miguel, por favor,” you breathed, thready and thin. “It’s just Hobie.”

“Hobie?” he growled. Miguel’s hand encompassed the large space of your belly. Your legs shifted as Miguel held you a little firmer. You expected his hand to move lower, but he didn’t.

“Hm. Why would it be Hobie?” he asked, his voice dripping dangerously low. “Is there something I should know, Corazón?”

“No, I, no,” you stammered. He knew. Though you said the words, they felt cut off from what you were saying. As though the threat of his rejection took over all the confidence in your world. "You were watching?"

You turned in his arms to face him. His forehead creased in disapproval. You opted to press your forehead against his, running your nose against his, breath puffing his lips.

"You thought I wouldn't," he said. His eyes spun with sharpness, searching your face for evidence of the truth. As though he were asking if you’d been unfaithful despite the breakup. Your face was always pitifully easy to read. Even with the breakup, he could read your intentions as clearly as the words on his lab screens.

"I didn't think you cared."

You were used to a Miguel who crept into your bedside window, slunk into your bed, and woke you up from your slumber with the weight of his body between your legs. A Miguel that only had time for brief moments of pleasure and successful results. This Miguel was different.

"You know I do."

And there it was. He pushed himself free of the bed in search of pants. You watched him pull them over his ass before he flopped into the one chair in the middle of his room, head in his hand. Lyla, he rumbled something under his breath you couldn’t quite hear. Your senses were dull, something you equated to the exhaustion and sleepiness that threatened to overtake you at any given moment. 

“Something is different. And it isn’t him,” he sneered. 

You missed the warmth of his body against yours. The ginger way he touched you just moments before. After days of being without his touch, you missed the simple things. Like the way he touched you. The way he focused on you alone in a room full of others. You hated yourself for craving it. You made a choice. Why couldn’t you stick with it? 

“What did I do wrong now?” Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth. It was the very cottonmouth you feared you would have when telling Miguel about Gwen and Miles. Your mind was too hazy to rationalize what you possibly could have done this time. Miguel would always be an impenetrable castle, one you could admire from afar but never enter. 

“Nothing!” He snapped. You recoiled from the shrill in his voice. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, easing his tone down to a murmur. He threw you a small, bittersweet glance. Almost a smile. “Muñeca, you did nothing wrong. Get some rest.” 

He sat there a moment longer. A frown grew on his lips as Miguel stood up and walked toward the door. After one, two, then three attempts to open the door, his closed fist slammed a hole into the siding. It finally whirled open and allowed him to exit. It left you in the sea of silence that was his dark room. You never liked waking up in his room alone. It was bare, too bare, for anyone to live in. You worried that his mind was just like that.

“Lyla? Lyla, I want to go home.” 

It was a long time-- too long-- before she answered. “You should sleep.” 

And though she advised that, it was a restless night.

[sofasoap]

Love at first sight - Epilogue

Pairing: Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra x F!reader ( aka Mini MacTavish)

Summary: Two love birds finally got together. To the relief of everyone.

Part I, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,Part 5,Part 6

Warning: E Rating. Smutty smut. inaccuracies to medical and military related. discussion of injury.

A/N: @siilvan , thank you for being a wonderful Beta-reader *hug* @jynxmirage for giving me daily encouragements of sending me picture of delicious Bayardo De Murguia to keep me going :) Thanks to @okayyadriana  and @saltofmercury helping me with Spanish words :) if there are any mistakes. Please blame me not them.

“masterlist” 

You stayed on with the Los Vaqueros In Las Almas after Rudy was cleared to be discharged from the hospital. 

Approaching Price a few days after in private, you were nervous as you put in a request to stay on for a bit longer while the rest of the team moved on to another mission back in Europe soon.

“I know this is a very selfish request, Captain..” You look down at your boot, feeling guilty abandoning your team while they need you. But you can’t walk away from him this time. Rudy still needs you to look after him, or so you try to justify it. More like you need him to heal your guilty conscience. 

Price observed you in silence for a few minutes, brows furrowed. At last he jerks his head towards the outside, indicating to you to follow him. 

The sun is slowly setting, a few soldiers returning from their patrols and training. Everything seems so tranquil and peaceful compared to the near death mission the squad was sent to a few weeks ago.

Taking out a cigar he stashed away in his vest pocket, he lit it up, and took a slow drag before turning to you.

“You've been burying yourself in work non-stop for the last few months Mini. Is this why?” He didn’t point out what exactly he was asking about.

But, you know what he is implying. 

Kicking a bit of dirt on the ground and swiping the little gravel away for no reason, you let out a little grunt, acknowledging his question. 

“Stay as long as you want. You have trained your team well, Dr. MacTavish.” He chuckled as you pouted like a child, he knows you don’t like to address you with the title. “I’m sure they can handle the boys without you.” He pats you on the shoulder. “Take a good break, but I don’t know how much rest you are going to have fussing over him.” 

“I’ll try to behave…” You replied sincerely, finally feeling a bit of weight lift off your shoulders. “Thank you, Captain. It means a lot to me.”

Patting you on the shoulder with a fatherly smile, “Go chase your happiness, Mini. You deserve it.” 

Leaning back against the wall, you close your eyes and listen to the faint sound of music and singing that could be heard from the mess hall from a distance away, as the Task force and Los Vaqueros soldiers celebrate another successful mission under their belt after months of hard work. 

A shadow appears in front of you. Looking up, you saw Rudy standing in front of you, eyebrows raised, silently asking for permission. 

Patting the ground beside you and inviting him to sit down, you share the brief silence. 

This is probably the only time the two of you have spent time alone in the last few months, without anyone else hovering about. 

To Rudy’s dismay, Alejandro forced his second in command to take an extensive break after his return from hospital.

“Rest. You nearly died in my arms, hermano. I am sure your mother will be happy to have you at home for more than one day in a few weeks.” He commented. Alejandro turned towards you and patted you on the shoulder, “I’ll get Dr. MacTavish here to check up on you, so don’t you worry about your injury.” 

Mama Parra was ecstatic to see you return along with her son. You were quite touched by how the whole family welcomed your return. Camila gave you a knowing look after giving you a hug.

“Thank you for saving my brother. And, please, look after him from now on.” 

The tender look he gives you everytime you go over to change his bandages, and the desire he couldn’t keep hidden sipping through when you glide your hands, deliberately across his well defined ab. You linger your hand around his pelvis area, boldly caressing the slight bit of hair showing above his pants. Oh how his eyes darken as you flash him a sly smile, teasing him. 

If only he wasn’t still recovering from his near fatal wound. If only there weren’t people always out and about in the house.

Both of you would have given in to the desire, right there and then. 

But his mother would always poke her head into the room every time, fussing about and pulling you out to feed you with delicious meals, trying to show you the family photos, and with your rudimentary understanding of Spanish language, along with Rudy and Camila’s translation, Mama Parra loved telling you all the family history and childhood stories of Rudy and his siblings, and all the havoc him and Alejandro caused when they were young. 

You often catch Alejandro looking at the two of you, rolling his eyes while shaking his head, exasperated that the two of you are behaving like love sick puppies yet again. 

“Are you two going to make a move on each other or not?” Alejandro asked you once, when you were dropping off the health assessment reports in his office. “You know there is a betting pool happening amongst the team to see when…”

You ran out of the office in a flash, not even waiting for his sentence to finish, utterly mortified. 

Rudy breaks the silence first as he softly calls out your name. Turning slightly to face him.

“Cariño. Mi vida.” The tips of your ears burn as he addresses you in such an intimate manner. How would it feel if he called out like that when he was buried inside you…? “What are you thinking?” He whispered, his beautiful brown orbs filled with sadness. “Are you… are you thinking of leaving again?” Your heart clenched with pain as he looked at you with the same nervousness and distress you saw the night at the hospital.  You realise the two of you haven’t sat down and discussed the future, where to move on from here. No wonder the poor man is feeling so insecure. 

“Oh love.. no.. no don’t think that.” Gently cupping his face, you pull him down towards you to lean against his forehead. “I am not leaving you. Ever again. No matter what happens. I am sorry I haven’t been clearer.” You apologised as you leaned close to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “...well, barring from getting sent out for missions…” You added hastily. 

You feel tension dissipate from him as you give him your words of reassurance. Taking one of his hands, you put it over your heart.

“This will be yours from now on. And this,” You put your hand over his rapid beating heart, “I hope I have the honour for this to be mine.” You drop down to a whisper, suddenly timid. 

“From the moment I laid my eyes on you, I had already devoted my heart to you. I never expected you to return my feelings. I was happy to watch you from afar, assist you whenever I could; seeing that bright smile appear on your face is all that matters to me. I never expected anything in return.”

You were taken aback by his comment. You knew he had feelings for you quite early on, but from the moment you arrived at Las Almas? You didn’t quite expect that. Silently pining for you, doing what he does the best, assisting you in the background. You realise everytime the medical team has requested something, it would be done right away in the next few days. You got a complaint? Rudy would sort it out straight away. 

“All done, as per your request.” You remember his soft smile and his shyness everytime he reported back to you. 

It was all for you. 

“Rudy… oh, Rudy…” You lamented. The guilt is hitting you again.You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your face now. “I am so sorry… so sorry…”

“Cariño, it’s not your fault. You did what you thought was right at the time, and I don’t blame you for that.” He pulls you into his embrace, kissing you lightly on your head. “I admit, I was quite heartbroken, but I do understand. Duty over heart. And the distance would have made it hard.” Closing his eyes, he chuckled slightly. “I buried myself in work, trying to put it all behind me. That accidental phone call? It reignited my hope. Brought back the ache again.” 

Resting your head in the crook of his neck, you enjoy the closeness, his scent, as he lightly rocks you back and forth to the music in the distance, slowly processing his words. 

“I love you, mi vida. I love you so much.” He whispered into your ears. “You are so beautiful. So strong, so fierce, so loyal…” He pulled himself away slightly to face you as he took in a deep breath.

“Would it be too much to ask, for you to be mine?” He pleaded, desperately searching for an answer in your eyes. 

You wrap your arms around his neck with a soft smile, “You already have my heart,” You whispered as you tipped your head up to give him a gentle kiss on his lips. “And you have my permission to take my body as yours, too.” 

With that reply, he leaned down towards you for another kiss, pouring all his emotion and heart into it. You can feel both of your bodies heating up as you nudge his lips open with your tongue, teasing him.

Abruptly, he pulls you away, panting, and jerks his head towards the main building. “My room. Not here.” That was all he could get out with his mind semi-frazzled from the kiss. You nodded your head frantically as both of you made your way towards the said destination.

As the two of you passed through the mess hall towards the officer’s quarters, you thought you saw Alejandro’s quick wave and smirk. Must be your imagination?

You couldn’t help but circle your arm around his waist as he shakily tried to open the door to his resting quarters. Hands meander around his body, teasing him a little, feeling his broad muscles, his back, and coming to a stop as you palm his semi hard package underneath his trousers. As soon as the door opens, he turns around and pulls you in, and kicks the door closed. You pull him down by his collar for another kiss, desperate to show him how much you want him, to soothe his worries and doubt. 

You push him to sit down on the bed, both of you still catching your breath from the heated kiss and dash.

“Please, mi amor… please, show me how you like it. Where you want me to touch…” He looks up at you, hands roaming up and down your body, voice dropping into a husky and lustful whisper.

You lower yourself to straddle him, feeling his hardness through the fabric. Rolling your hips slightly, you hear his breath catching slightly, holding back a groan. 

You move one of his hands to grab your ass, and the other to slide under your top, towards your breast. “Anywhere you like, love,” You swallow thickly, body filled with want. You want him. Anywhere. Everywhere. “Just show me what your deft fingers can do.” You purred as you looked at him through half hooded eyes. . 

You always wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on you after seeing him playing the guitar that night. The beautiful nimble fingers gliding up and down the fretboard, plucking away on the strings.

Standing up again to let him have better access to your lower region, he fumbles slightly as he unbuttons your pants and glides in between your pants and underwear. You let out an unrestrained moan as you feel his finger skate over your clit, before it reaches your already soaking opening.

“That’s it, my love..more… I want to feel more of you there…” You gasped and demanded as you rolled your hips with his moment. Another finger followed without hesitation, and another, until you feel stretched full of him pumping slowly in and out of you. 

His thumb languidly circles your clit as you dig your nails into his shoulder, back arched and screaming his name, not caring if the whole barracks hears you enjoying the first orgasm your lover has given you.

You look down at him with your watery orbs, breathing still short and fast as you come down from the blissful high he has just given you. He pulled his fingers out of you and slipped them in his mouth.

“I want to taste more of you.” He hummed as he slowly licked his fingers, cleaning up the cum juice you drenched him with. “My mouth against your beautiful soaking wet cunt, making you happy…”

Oh, you have definitely flipped a switch on. Gone is the shy Rudy, now Rodolfo Parra, the same confidence and passion shining through his eyes that you saw from him that night playing his guitar, is requesting to please you once again. Or, is that a thinly veiled demand?

Either way, you welcome the change.

Leaning down to pull him into an open mouthed kiss, you speak against his lips.

“You will have a lot more chances for that later on, my love.” You smirked as you pushed his shoulder, making him fall back onto the bed. You kneel on the bed, legs on each side of his body. “Now, it’s my turn to give you some pleasure, as you have just given me.” You position yourself comfortably sitting on his thighs, before you start to unbutton his shirt. 

Peppering kisses on his chest, your eyes soften as your hand carrases over the healed scar from months ago. That pain in your heart is still as fresh as the day you barely pulled him back from death’s door step.

“Still hurting?” You murmured as you traced your fingers over the most critical spot. “Occasional phantom pain, but I am alright now. Thanks to you.” He reassures you as he runs his hand up and down your arm.

Continuing down his body, your hands shake with excitement like a child opening a present on Christmas day, eager to see what is hiding underneath. 

Your smile broadens as you pull his pants down, his impressive girth finally appearing. You heard him groaning as you gently grabbed his length, pumping it a few times before taking it with your mouth.

Rudy gasps and moans as you work away, teasing him with your tongue, sucking the tip and kneading his balls lightly. He grasps the bed sheet hard as he blabbers away in Spanish, too fast for you to follow. He took you by surprise as he let out an almost half whimper-half sob before you felt the hot cum coating the inside your mouth. You lapped it all up and swallowed keenly as he rode out the rest of his orgasm.

“I… I am sorry, mi amor. I couldn’t hold it in any longer...” He apologised profusely, clearly embarrassed. You climb back up towards him. “I am glad I have that effect on you, Cariño.” You hushed him as you showered him with kisses on his face and patted his chest. 

His eyes glitter as you use the endearment in his mother tongue. “I should feel honoured that I can make you come so quickly. Now,” You stripped the rest of your clothing off. “Show me what you can do with that impressive thing inside me.”

Rudy claimed shyly he isn’t as experienced as you, but oh boy. His attentiveness, his eagerness, how much he wanted to give you a good time, all made up for it. 

His hands couldn’t stop touching you, caressing you as he slowly thrusted in and out of your aching core, stretching it open, making you quiver and moan out no matter what angle and position he went for. As if the two of you were made for each other, meant to be. Your soulmate. 

The two of you finally drifted to sleep, round after round of pleasure and orgasms, with his arm around you, holding you close to his chest. Afraid to let go, afraid for you to disappear again.  

The whole mess hall erupted into cheers and whistles as both you and Rudy walked in, taking both of you by surprise. 

You hid your face in Rudy’s shoulder, abashed by the sudden attention both of you were getting. 

Rudy, calm as always, ignored all the teases as he gently took your hand, which incited another round of cheers as he led you to the back table where Alejandro and your team was sitting at the moment for breakfast. He sat you down first before murmuring into your ear and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, heading towards the serving area to grab food for both of you.

“I hope you two had a good time last night.” Alejandro smiled as he pushed the jar of sugar towards you. 

“HOW–” You nearly spilled out the coffee that you were pouring into the mug. 

“Why did you think the officer’s quarters were so quiet last night?” Alejandro smirked with a knowing look. 

Blistering hell, he knew. He ordered people to stay away from the sleeping quarters. You wondered why the usually busy hallway was void of people as the two of you dashed towards his bedroom. 

Another soldier sitting across from you laughed. " Ah, don't be so shy. We were all rooting for you and our Sergeant Major. And, you know what they say?? Tell her, mi hermanos, mi hermanas!!"

“Save a horse, ride a Vaquero!” The whole mess hall shouted in unison. 

You just want to dig a hole in the ground and hide.

“...Captain.” You mumbled at Price. “Have you got Nikolai’s contact? Please ask him to take me away from this horrible embarrassment.” You buried your face in your hands. Now how are you going to face all of them?

“Might be a good idea, so we don’t have to hear your screams every night.” Soap mumbled as he took a sip of his coffee. 

OH great, now your brother is talking about your sex life. Something just snapped inside you. Stuff this. If they are so interested in your life, you might as well…. 

Slamming your mug onto the table, you stood up on the bench, whistling to catch everyone’s attention. 

“Since all of you are so interested in our love life, yes, the Sergeant Major and I finally shagged last night.” You heard your brother spitting out his coffee while Ghost thumped his back, Gaz laughing his head off. “And, ladies, his fingers are just as good, if not better than all of you imagined.” Gasps and giggles could be heard amongst the crowd. Out of the corner of your eyes, Rudy froze mid-motion while picking up some toast from the toaster, soldiers around him slapping his back and elbowing him, teasing him. 

“Mini…” You heard Price trying to interject, but you held out your hand towards your captain, stopping him. 

“Last, but not least, I love him, and he is off the market people! Take this as a warning, no one touches MY MAN!” 

Jumping down from your bench, you walk down the aisle between the refectory tables, as if doing a victory walk between the cheering and clapping soldiers, towards Rudy, who’s now blushing from head to toe, hearing your public declaration. 

“There. I think that will stop anyone from gossiping about us.” You stop in front of your lover, as he leans into the crook of your neck, feeling the heat radiating off his skin.

“Ah, querida… What am I going to do with you.” He asked, followed by a sigh.  

“Well, one thing for sure, you aren’t going to get rid of me, because I am going to stick around for quite a long time.” You replied as you wrapped your arm around his torso.

“Good.” He put his plates down to the side and proceeded to lift you up high. “Because you are mine forever, mi hermosa.” 

“... how much did you bet on them?” 

“A hundred pounds, But that’s because I had insider information.” 

“Mierda.” 

Tag list:

@jynxmirage, @kaplerrr, @captainpriceslover,@homicidal-slvt,@floral-force,@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world,@iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface,@okayyadriana,@random-thot-generator,@siilvan,@crazymela,@preciouslittlecreature,@glitterypirateduck,@cumikering,@devcica,@nrdmssgs,@random0lover

@nightingal3-tales, @deakyspuff, @abbeyrjm-blog, @alypink,@liyanahelena, @loppyc

@deadbranch

[cryptidwithagun]

If this doesn’t happen, check my Ao3 motherfuckers—

Imagine— The final scene of Campaign 3

After doing the character epilogues of what everyone does after, we flash forward to like a couple of months after the final battle. Everyone meets in Whitestone and goes to the Slayer’s Cake, with Pike’s help they make a massive batch of maple ginger cookies and go on a picnic. Ashton brings some drinks, Laudna brings some supplies for arts and crafts, Orym brings some muffins from Alma, Braius brings his painting supplies, and Dorian brings his mandolin. Fearne and Orym conjure a bed of flowers for them to sit on, Imogen makes the sky clear, and Pate scares off anyone that would interrupt. They go to Bertrand and Eshteross’s graves. The stones are decorated with small chicken bone dolls, the gambler’s rapier, Eshteross’s cane. Evelyn is there pruning the weeds. They put the last piece of FCG they have left, his wheel, in between the stones and start to recount their adventures while drinking and eating cookies, telling Bertrand and Eshteross all that they missed. A group of ravens flies out of the trees near by at the temple to the Matron, and BH’s know that their friends are there, listening intently. After telling them of Vassalheim and traveling to Ruidus to defeat Ludinus, Dorian pulls out his mandolin, and him and Imogen (plz Robbie and Laura) start to sing a full version of the Ballad of Bertrand Bell, which transitions into the Ballad of Bell’s Hells. As they sing Braius paints the group in this moment of calm, with no red moon in the sky, and smiles on all their faces.

And 30 years later, a new bard in Jrusar, is singing the famous Ballad of Bell’s Hells in front of a beautiful painting in the Spire by Fire.

[skyj80]

Me, I want details on the heart to heart with Alma and Dhalia🙋‍♀️

YAY YAY YAY YAY YAY

Context

Dahlia's general view on Alma is negative with a sprinkle of pity and fear. The negative comes from what she has observed. Despite Carmen's attempts to make her parents look "not that bad" Dahlia just doesn't buy it. The fear is cause Alma is a tough woman and (duh) her girlfriends mom. Pity because Alma is as damaged as she is tough. Dahlia feels bad just watching her pathetically exist.

Alma's general view on Dahlia is relatively neutral and leans slightly toward positive. She thinks she is a bright young woman. She only wishes Dahlia and Carmen were friends and not girlfriends. She'd never go out of her way to break the up, but she is not a fan of their relationship. She also wanted Carmen to go to college and wished carmen would have been more like Dahlia when it came to education. (carmen didn't go to college due to her sickness despite wanting to be the first on her family to go)

SO,

Dahlia sleeps over pretty often and one day she goes to the kitchen to finish up homework after waking up earlier than Carmen. As she is making her coffee, Alma walks in and ignores the fact Dahlia is there. She reaches onto of the fridge for a bottle of liquor. Before she gets to it dahlia asks "Do you want some coffee?" There is a hint of judgment in her tone but it's mainly a plea phrased as a question. Alma sighs, but agrees and sits down at the kitchen table. "I take it black." Alma informs Dahlia. Her gaze lingered on Dahlia's open laptop. She see's all the science-y stuff and sighs.

Dahlia sets a cup of black coffee in front of Alma and sit across from her with her own, very light and sweet, coffee.

There is silence for a moment. Dahlia begins to type and Alma just stares at her cup as she waits for it to cool.

Here is a draft type thing of the dialogue I imagine. It's kinda choppy and unnatural. that will be fixed eventually.

Alma: I wish my daughter was more like you

Dahlia: Hm? (she looks up from her laptop)

Alma: You're awfully intelligent.

Dahlia: (gently shuts her laptop, giving her attention to Alma) Carmen is one of the smartest people I've ever met

Alma: My daughter works off the books for ten dollars an hour. When she was planning on going to college she wanted to go for music. and then, after being accepted to a ton of schools she decided not to go. My daughter is a fool.

Dahlia: (smiles) did you know I set fire to a microwavable cup of ramen once because I didn't know you had to add water

(Alma raises an eyebrow)

Dahlia: Oh and the first time carmen and I had a conversation, it was because I spilt my coffee all over myself after taking, like, two steps with it. And then she told me my shirt was backwards! I am a fool.

Alma: well then you are a smart fool. carmen is a foolish fool.

Dahlia: (chuckles at the phrasing) once the register broke at her job. She was able to do all the mental math for change. I'm so reliant on my calculator. I could never.

Alma: That's the frustrating part. If she can do that...why no college? And if college...why music? The chances of making a career-

Dahlia: (expression goes somber) I don't think she was worried about her future, Alma. She isn't getting any better.

(Alma nodded, of all people she knew that)

Dahlia: She likes music and didn't want to be miserable if she could help it. The good thing about music is you don't have to be in a school to do it. She can play her guitar and sing and rap and all that from her room, or a hospital bed. I think choosing happiness is the smartest thing anyone could ever do.

At that point, Alma see's how highly Dahlia speaks about Carmen and feels a bit less off about their relationship. She isn't a great mom, but she does love her kids and wants what she thinks is best for them. she isn't like "omg yasss gay rights!! Latina lesbians woooo!" but she thinks if Carmen has to be with a girl its good that's it's Dahlia

(also Dahlia, ever the idiot, used the same coffee pod on both her and almas coffee. Alma and Dahlia had a laugh about. That moment meant a lot to Dahlia)

If you read this far I love you. And if anyone else has questions pls pls pls pls pls ask pls.

[igetthedisneybox]

Amelia Madrigal

Inspired by @hannahhook7744's Encanto AU, and her own character headcanons.

Third image made using https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1558575

Fourth image made using https://www.dolldivine.com/la-colombiana

Fifth image made in Disney Dreamlight Valley

Amelia’s full name is Amelia Alma Madrigal.

Her first name means “brave” and her middle name means “soul”. Her middle name is her paternal grandmother’s name.

She is the second oldest daughter of Bruno Madrigal and Alejandra Delgado.

She has dark brown hair like her father’s, but it’s straight like her mother’s. Her skin is a paler brown than Bruno’s, but darker than Alejandra’s. She has Alejandra’s eyes and facial features. She looks identical to Sofía.

She is fifteen years old.

She has an older half-sister by sixteen years named Miranda, and a twin sister, Sofía, younger by fifteen minutes.

She likes girls, and is seeing one named Rosana.

Her gift is positive emotion manipulation. She can change the positive emotions of anyone she wants, as long as she herself is feeling said emotion. This is visualized by a multicolored aura around her body, with a specific color for each emotion. This sometimes also happens involuntarily. She loves her gift, but Bruno and Alejandra have tried to enforce rules about her powers, and to not change anybody’s emotions without permission, but Amelia doesn’t understand. If someone’s sad or angry, shouldn’t she make them happy?

Her door portrays her with a smile on her face, holding her hands to her chest. Rounded waves push off of her body.

Her room has red stained glass windows for walls, and a rainbow colored river-rock tile floor. She has many decorative pillows and rugs strewn around, so much so that if you collapsed anywhere, you’d probably be safe.

Her symbol is the mask of comedy.

She loves Bruno, but often feels like he doesn’t pay her enough attention, and that he favors Sofía.

Similarly, she also loves Alejandra, but wishes she wasn’t so strict with her, and wishes that she wouldn’t chase away her potential admirers with a sword.

She and Miranda love to spend time in the Encanto together, usually to watch over the children. She looks up to Miranda a lot.

Amelia is the only person not affected by Sofía’s gift, and vice versa. She doesn’t understand why Sofía is so sad and anxious all the time. Why can’t she just be happy? Then nobody else would be affected by her gift.

She mainly hangs out with Princesa and Beatriz, and occasionally Leta, Carlos, and Lidia.

She gets along best with Pepa, Camilo, and Princesa.

She loves to sing, and regularly performs for her family and the rest of the Encanto.

She's a social butterfly, and has many friends around the village.

She is ADHD and hyperactive, and always on the move; even when she’s sitting, she’ll be drumming her fingers or tapping her feet.

She loves bright and colorful things, and collects rocks, glass bottles, and colorful cloth scraps.

She likes doing herself up with makeup and hair products for events.

Her favorite colors are red, yellow, orange, and gold.

[alienaiver]

Kanda foe the headcanons game! 🌷

omg tori im so happy you sent him in, i was hoping so bad you'd see the game !!!! ✨ im sorry abt the delay<!!!33333 these are like, half-modern au kinda, since some of the questions doesn't really translate to the 19th century LMAo

Songs on his iPod: i think despite his tough-no-feelings demeanor, he really does like songs where the lyrics resonate with him, or put words into feelings he can't articulate well himself. its NOT emo or angsty tho, claims the angsty emo.

rootless tree - damien rice my demons - starset sacrifice - zella day (sobbing i actually made a kanda amv with this song once....) (these are all from my kanda playlist. im probably biased LMAO)

The one place they fall asleep – where they’re not supposed to: kanda's very reserved with rest. its only in his bedroom with a locked door unless you or alma are there. its too vulnerable and private if not. he fell asleep in a cafe with you once, which was silly, but he'd been overworking himself and your shoulder was right there

The game they’d destroy everyone else at: im so sorry, but kanda's entire personality in regards to video games is just: skill issue. he doesn't wanna waste his time learning how to fight in a dumb game when he can just as easily cut your throat irl no problem. though if ever convinced, hes flexible enough to beat everyone at twister

The emoticon they’d use most often: 🖕. (if he ever bothers)

What they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep: he's actually kinder, somehow. not like, allen's mask polite, but he's less bite-y and easy to anger. his baseline is too little sleep generally, but when he goes beyond even that limit, hes too sleepy to fight about every little thing, which translates as sudden kindness.

Their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights or mornings: green tea, always

How they like to comfort/care for themselves in a slump: kanda likes to throw his head aggressively onto your lap and lie there with a scowl until you coax his problem out through his grunts. you ask questions and when you've figured it out, you help him process it

What they wanted to be when they grew up: he thought itd be punk-rock to own his own store. he didnt know what it entailed, but once he was in a independent store with tiedoll and he explained why it wasnt like [insert chain] and when kanda said, "so, basically you're your own boss completely?" and tiedoll nodded he thought.. fuck yea. but what? what type of store, you ask? fuck if he knows or cares

Their favorite kind of weather: summer blue skies with those big, cumulonimbus clouds!

Thoughts on their singing voice: he can sing, and he's good at it, too. he's only shown it once, to prove to allen that "singing's not that hard, dumbass. anyone can do it." he's well aware not everyone can, but he liked gloating when he pulled out an angelic deep timbre in front of the friend group. if he sometimes randomly starts smiling menacingly, just know he's thinking of that memory

How/what they like to draw or doodle: hes the type to just write words in cool fonts or styles. especially swear words LMAO

these were so fun omg,,,,, hes so edgy im sorry but im also really not

send me a character and ill fill out these headcanons

[farthngdr]

This post is tinhatting to the nth degree, and it includes speculation about the current State of the Union of Cockles that is undoubtedly unpopular. If you're sensitive about this subject, turn back now.

(For the sake of context: I adore Cockles and want them to last forever.)

Someone mentioned that Jensen was asked at a recent con to name a favorite band or song. He answered that he had just learned to sing and to play a song called "Wondering Why" on guitar.

I read the lyrics to the song, which I am including here. Clearly he means this song to be a tribute to Danneel:

"She comes from silver spoon, golden rule, private school Never missed Sunday church And I come from blue collar, low dollar Out here where concrete meets old red dirt

And I don't know what happened But it sure don't add up on paper But when I close my eyes late at night You can bet I thank my maker

She keeps on loving me Loves me the way I am She's not just along for the ride She's my biggest fan Lord, it's a little old piece of heaven When we lay down at night She keeps on loving me And I keep on wondering why

She's got a wicked smile, angel eyes Every guy wanting to hold her close She's as pretty as sin Like the sun sinking down on the California coast

She keeps on loving me Loves me the way I am She's not just along for the ride She's my biggest fan Lord, it's a little old piece of heaven When we lay down at night She keeps on loving me And I keep on wondering why

Alright, alright, alright

I don't know what happened But it sure don't add up on paper And as long as she lets me I'll take her wherever she wants me to take her, oh

She keeps on loving me Loves me the way I am She's not just along for the ride She's my biggest fan And it's a little old piece of heaven When we lay down at night She keeps on loving me And I keep on wondering why."

My first reaction was, "That's really interesting, Jensen doesn't typically sing love songs that clearly reference the 'she/her' pronouns, so he is experiencing a renewed appreciation for Danneel." Wonder why...?

The lyrics are also taking a dig at a certain kind of person, the kind who is only "along for the ride." I wondered if that particular line was a dig at Misha, as I believe Jensen might have distanced himself from Misha due to the whole girlfriend debacle. I attended Burcon and the Jenmish panel, and I felt very strongly that Jensen had changed toward Misha, most likely due to Misha's inviting a new woman into his life, and also most likely without asking anyone else's consent to do so (except maybe from his kids). Judging by the cold (as in Arctic) mood of the panel, as well as a few mean-spirited swipes at Misha, something was definitely off between the two.

The song says she has "angel eyes" ?

Also: "It's a little old piece of heaven/When we lay down at night." Jensen has sung Bryan Adams' song "Heaven," which is thought by many to be a song he sings for Misha. ("When I'm lying here in your arms/I'm finding it hard to believe/We're in heaven.")

And I kept thinking about that line--"along for the ride." Could that be what a hurt and jealous Jensen thinks about Misha? That Misha was really just along for the ride, as opposed to Danneel, who has remained loyal and committed to him through thick and thin?

And then I saw a poem Alma posted on their story today. It's titled "Along for the Ride."

(I have no proof of anything. I know nothing. Just a mind that tends to see connections. And yes, possibly where there aren't any.)

If folks come at me for this, I guess I'll do what I always end up doing these days- -I'll have to delete it.

Oh well.

POSTSCRIPT: SInce the posting of "I'm going I'm gone," Alma really went. Not even posting their daily favorite verses on their Instagram story, which have been a staple of their account for several years. Alma, please come back. We weren't just along for the ride.

[darling-miaxoxo]

“Once Upon A Time”

A/N: Hello everyone! Damn its been awhile! hope everyone’s having a great day! Happy new year! Heres a oneshot for now! btw this song called “Once Upon A Time” is in the oneshot! the link is here if you want to listen to it! Also, would you guys mind if I start writing for different fandoms? Please answer in the comments :D Summary: You tell the children your past with a rhyme. Alma overhears this rhyme and talks to you. Warning/s: some angst, undertale/deltarune spoilers kind of?? Fandom & Relationship/ship: Miss Peregrines Home for Peculiar Children, Alma Peregrine x Reader.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“Please tell us Miss Y/n! We promise we wont be disappointed!” Fiona and Claire said. You were currently amidst of almost all the younger children. Horace was reading outside under the tree, while all the other younger children are around you, begging to know your past. You were an... interesting peculiar as someone might say. You did just come into the loop unplanned, nor did anyone knew you. Horace’s dream didnt even show you coming into the loop. “Alright, alright. What about a rhyme to go with it hm?” You said, finally giving up to the children's begging. You walked over to the living room and sat down. “Alright then, everyone ready?” you said, making sure everyone is ready to listen. “Every good rhyme starts with “Once Upon A Time!” You sang, clapping your hands. The children clapping along with you. “Long ago, Far away, Centuries before our day. Humans lived, monsters roamed, both shared earth and sky as home.” You sang once more, remembering the time you saw a few monsters in the sky, and also seeing another one near your house. Luckily, for you, they didnt see you. The reason being the next line in the ‘rhyme’ you were currently singing. “Yet this peace came undone, war was waged and humans won.” You were scared during that time, the main reason being, this happened during the war. You were lucky you even survived that one. Thanks to a friend, you managed to become immortal. You looked like a regular 24 year old, but in reality, you were an estimated 400-410 years old, and thats before you factor in the years you were in the loop. “Forced below, monsters fell. Humans trapped them with a spell.” You remembered the time you saw this happen with your own eyes. You were going to the village and took a wrong turn. There, you saw the countess with the guards. As you heard the spell itself. “Cape eas, in eternum sub monte vivent, non salvabitur.” The countess said, the monsters being put in under the cave.  “Listen children, to my words: Ebbot will eat you, beware the curse!” You sang, as you remembered the warning the countess said. Since the countess asked for everyone to come to the townhall. That exact line was what she said, unfazed that the children might be traumatized. “Monster teeth go clack, clack, clack” Your mother, sang this rhyme to you when you were 7 years old. And kept on singing it until you were 10. Now your singing it to a bunch of younger children. “If you climb the mountain, you wont come back! Human child, human child, wont turn around. Human child, Human child - oops they fell down! ” You sang once more, now changing the rhyme your mother once told you. Now it basing off your actual past, and not a rhyme your mother told you. This way they can enjoy your past, even if its dark. “Human child, human child, look out below.. down underground where the monsters go.” The serenade you were singing were currently bringing back memories. You recalled the time you failed to follow your mothers rules, and went to Mount Ebbot. You saw the monsters. They clearly were mad at humanity. “Oops dropped your heart, be careful in the dark. Someone might take it, break it apart.” Now this line, was a reference of the monsters powers. They could absorb human souls. The reason humans won was, that almost all of the monsters equal to just 1 human soul, and the monsters surrendered. That’s the main reason why the humans won. “Trouble on the left, Trouble on the right... Will you spare them, run, or fight?” You were still clapping, after all, this was considered a nursery rhyme after the war. And this helps with the children not fully understanding it. “Oops dropped your heart... Be careful in the dark. Someone might take it, break it apart. Trouble on the left, Trouble on the right, Will you spare them? Run or fight?” You sang, finally ending the song. The children were surprised, they didnt expect this, not the song of course, but you? singing? They were baffled. But while the children were happy, now having a vague description of your past, one thing you didnt know, was that, your girlfriend, Alma, overheard this ‘rhyme’ and unlike the children, she understood the meaning of this. You went about your day, trying to clear your mind of these, instances. ≪•◦ ❈Time skip to dinner! ◦•≫ “Miss Y/n, may I talk to you please?” Alma said, in a stoic voice, it being clear that this is a command, not a request. “Of course Miss Peregrine.” You said. Starting to stand up and follow Alma. You went into her office. “What is it Alma?” You asked. “Y/n, I heard your rhyme earlier, and wanted to talk about it.” She sighed, clearly disappointed. You were afraid, afraid she might dump you and throw you out of the loop. “O-of course Alma.” You said, your voice being shaky. “I’m not mad. I just wish you should’ve said it to me sooner darling.” She said, tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to fall. “I’m sorry” You sobbed, going forward, to keep her close to you. “Dont be sorry darling.” ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

[achy-boo]

Amara Anabel Alma

1.Neka (Before)

2.Neka (After)

Full name: Amara Anabel Alma

Name meaning: Amara means 'immortal' or 'eternal' in African and Sanskrit, Anabel signifying 'graceful beauty' and Alma means 'soul' or 'Spirit" in Spanish

Gender: Female

Age: Immortal

Sexuality: N/A

Species: Deity??

Personality: Amara is a soft spoken woman with an unknown origin. She is very motherly and kind hearted, she is mostly had few words to say so she just observe. Like Kianisha, her hostility and rage belongs to those who harmed her 'children'. She is mostly silent and creepy to some due to the fact her face is unnatural to look at it. But be warned: she is sneaky and has a tendency to snatch unwanted tainted souls to her room to turn them into dolls/puppets.

Likes: dollmaking, watching her 'children', remembering her past with Bellatrix and [redacted], trying new human things, snatching unwanted sinners, snow, animals

Dislikes: showing her 'side', [redacted]'s death, her 'children' hurt or sad, people trying to find her origins, Minako's Sakamaki Family, being told no by Night(but she accepted it either way)

Voice Claims;

Japanese: Kafka from Honkai Star Rail

English: Navia from Genshin Impact

Facts:

She is the mother of the girls

She is in that domain of Night's(the one with the two large doors that is chained shut)

She used to protect Bellatrix until Bellatrix tell her to protect Night and her loved ones

She is the Deity(??) of dollmaking

One of her eyes has no light

She had no birthday sadly

She is hostile when her 'children' is hurt or sad

She will adopt anyone as her children

She a kinda hatred towards anyone with malicious intentions

She is very large for her own good. (In mortal form: She is 6'3 when in her deity(??) form: she is 10 ft tall but she is flexible)

Her melody is what you hear at an abandoned doll making workshop or doll house.(Creepy Ass singing but its beautiful)

@anxious-twisted-vampire @marrondrawsalot @yukii0nna @abyssthing198 @the-weirdos-mind @yumeko2sevilla @amxto @yoghurtsan

[ajibooks]

By now, Alma and Louis have several children between them, and Ed's their favorite grandparent by far. He has big soft brown eyes and he never makes anyone do anything as boring as fishing. Sometimes, when none of the other adults are looking, he lets them play with knives. Best of all, he always has candy in his pockets.

Grandpa Stede says he's happy and proud of Ed, and Grandma doesn't care, but Grandpa Doug is sad. "I was the cool dad," he says. "Why aren't I the cool grandpa?" Grandma shrugs and tells him to stop complaining about it, and Ed giggles.

Ed has the best taste in music of anyone, and (unlike Stede) he doesn't mind how badly the kids sing or (unlike Mary) if they dance around without any rhythm or spin until they get dizzy and fall over. They climb all over him like he's a ship they're plundering for treasure. He tells them stories about his tattoos, all made up and different every time.

The kids bring their friends to meet him like he's a local celebrity, even though he's always just been "Ed" to them. He figured that was the best bet with two other granddads and a grandma, and it's easy for even toddlers to pronounce. Of course the friends get candy too, and soon, there are almost always kids in their house, some familiar and some strange. Grandpa Stede laughs and makes sure there's enough candy for everyone.

[afaims100arrowversefavs]

My 250 Favorite Arrowverse Episodes: Part 9: 50-26

Taken from „Arrow“, „The Flash“, „Supergirl“, „Legends of Tomorrow“, „Constantine“, „Black Lightning“, „Batwoman“, „Stargirl“ and Season 1-3 of „Superman & Lois“:

In honor of Seaosn 4 of "Superman & Lois" being the end of the Arrrowverse, the end of DCTV like we knew it and the end of The CW like we knew it, a final time before the final season all Seasons ends of all the 250 best Arrowverse Episodes (according to me):

I did include "Stargirl" this time, since it has as much connection as "Superman & Lois" to the rest of the Arrowverse, but One Hit Shows like "Gotham Knights" and "Naomi" (anyone still remember this one?) are not on this list, neither are Arrowverse unrelated DC shows:

50. The Last Children of Krypton (Supergirl 2x2)

The One in which: John Corben goes through some changes and Clark fights with J’onn.

22, Written by: Robert Rovner, Caitlin Parrish, Directed by: Glen Winter

 49. Prochnost (Arrow 8x5)

The One in which: Oliver and Mia visit Anatoli.

165, Written by: Benjamin Raab, Deric A. Hughes, Directed by: Laura Belsey

48. State V Queen (Arrow 2x7)

The One in which: The Count is back and Moira gets acquitted.

30, Written by: Marc Guggenheim, Drew Z. Greenberg, Directed by: Bethany Rooney

47. Lian Yu (Arrow 5x23)

The One in which: Adrian blowsuo  the island.

115, Written by: Wendy Mericle, Marc Guggenheim, Directed by: Jesse Warn

46. Going Rogue (The Flash 1x4)

The One in which: Captain Cold enter the picture.

4, Written by: Geoff Johns, Kai Yu Wu, Directed by: Glen Winter

 45. Shogun (Legends of Tomorrow 2x3)

The One in which: The Atom Suit goes around.

19, Written by: Phil Klemmer, Grainne Godfree, Directed by: Kevin Tancharoen

44. Tricksters (The Flash 1x17)

The One in which: The Trickster returns together with his son.

17, Written by: Andrew Kreisberg, Directed by: Ralph Hemecker

 43. Crucible (Arrow 2x4)

The One in which: There is new kind of mayor in the City and the Canary is revealed.

27, Written by: Andrew Kreisberg, Wendy Mericle, Directed by: Eagle Egilsson

42. Moonshot (Legends of Tomorrow 2x14)

The One in which: Ray walks on the Moon and Martin sings.

30, Written by: Grainne Godfree, Directed by: Kevin Mock

41. All Star Team Up (The Flash 1x18)

The One in which: The Atom comes to Central City.

18, Written by: Grainne Godfree, Kai Yu Wu, Directed by: Kevin Tancharoen

 40. The Reverse Flash Returns (The Flash 2x11)

The One in which: Eobard returns for the first time.

34, Written by: Aaron and Todd Helbing, Directed by: Michael Allowitz

 39. Flashpoint (The Flash 3x1)

The One in which: Barry lives in an alternate reality.

47, Written by: Greg Berlanti, Andrew Kreisberg, Brooke Roberts, Directed by: Jesse Warn

38. Doomworld (Legends of Tomorrow 2x16)

The One in which: The World is wrong.

Written by: Ray Utarnachitt, Sarah Hernandez, Directed by: Mairzee Almas

37. Enter Flashtime (The Flash 4x15)

The One in which:A catastrophe is immanent.

84, Written by: Todd Helbing, Sterling Gates, Directed by: Greogry Smith

36. Infantino Street (The Flash 3x22)

The One in which: Barry recruits Leonard to save Iris.

68, Written by: Andrew Kreisberg, Grainne Godfree, Directed by: Michael Allowitz

35. Pilot (Superman & Lois 1x1)

The One in which: Martha Kent dies.

1, Written by: Greg Berlanti, Todd Helbing, Directed by: Lee Toland Krieger

34. Aruba (Legends of Tomorrow 2x17)

The One in which: There are multiple legends and even more Eobards.

33, Written by: Phil Klemmer und Marc Guggenheim, Directed by: Rob Seidenglanz

33. Pilot (The Flash 1x1)

The One in which: Barry Allen is struck by lightning.

1, Written by: Greg Berlanti, Andrew Kreisberg, Geoff Johns, Directed by. David Nutter

32. Fellowship of the Spear (Legends of Tomorrow 2x15)

The One in which: Tolkien helps.

31, Written by: Keto Shimizu, Matthew Maala, Directed by: Ben Bray

31. Flashback (The Flash 2x17)

The One in which: Barry goes back to Season 1.

40, Written By: Aaron Helbing, Todd Helbing, Directed By: Alice Troughton

30. The Last Temptation of Barry Allen Part 1 (The Flash 6x7)

The One in which: Ramsey offers Barry salvation.

121, Written By: Jonathan Butler, Gabriel Garza, Directed By: Chad Lowe

29. The Once and Future Flash (The Flash 3x19)

The One in which: Barry goes to the Future.

65, Written by: Carina Adly MacKenzie, Directed By: Tom Cavanagh

28. The Adventures of Supergirl (Supergirl 2x1)

The One in which: Supergirl and Superman team up.

21, Written by: Greg Berlanti, Andrew Kreisberg, Jessic Queller, Directed by: Glen Winter

27. Nora (The Flash 5x1)

The One in which: Nora says hello to her parents.

93, Written By: Todd Helbing, Sam Chalsen, Directed by: David McWhirter

26. The Brave and the Bold (Arrow 3x8)

The One in which: Team Flash visits Starling City.

54, Written by: Greg Berlanti, Andrew Kreisberg, Marc Guggenheim, Grainne Godfree, Directed by: Jesse Warn

[oncexinxmyxdreams]

Encantober: Sign 🪧

@encantober-official

From my unfinished fic au, Miracles Come in Pairs/Efecto Butterfly. Bruno's twin daughters Francisca and Alejandra recieve their gifts. Bruno blames himself for not seeing any signs.

Bruno should've seen it coming. Having two daughters included many things he could see coming along. Days where they'd argue, ignore, cry and laugh. That didn't take him aback. Having two daughters with gifts that were...special was another matter. Not a good special either like everyone anticipated. More like walking on glass, holding breath and bracing yourself for the worst kind of special.  

Months before Francisca and Alejandra's fifth birthday, he wondered if he should check. Look into their futures just to be sure. Any signs he should know. Maybe he could help ahead of time. Everyone reassured him nothing would go wrong. Mercedes, his dear wife, promising their children wouldn't have it like him. He was swayed to not worry. Still, he threw salt over his shoulder and knocked on wood to be safe.

It didn't help.

It wasn't a door ceremony of joy or wonder. It was of shock and fear to everyone. The village hurrying to leave as if some savage beast had woken from its sleep. Alma stunned and holding the candle as if her only reassurance. Pepa trying to calm herself, but dark clouds thundered. Julieta, looking so unsure and worried. Mercedes holding their children to comfort. At least she tried to hold both of them. One refused.

The gifts? Hindsight and Fire.  

Francisca unable to move, but heavily breathing. Her eyes of jungle green and earthy brown, shifted into the darkest green with a glint of shine. She didn't speak, yell or weep. She seemed stone cold evdn in her mama's arms. When she could talk, she explained she saw something from long ago. Something terrible that happened to the Madrigals twenty five years ago.

Alejandra's hand formed a jet of flame. It singed her birthday banner and burnt the flowers. She instantly cried, but the flames seemed to stick along her hands. She never looked so scared. She kept backing away not wanting to be touched.  

Right there Bruno could tell it was a sign of what was to happen for their lives. 

It'd been three days since Francisca and Alejandra turned five. The Madrigals are at a loss. Francisca doesn't want anyone to see her. She keeps snapping she wants to be alone in her mama's art studio. She threw a tantrum when Casita tried nudging her outside. Alejandra hiding in the nursery and when found hugging herself. She even screamed for nobody to touch her because she could hurt them. 

Bruno blamed himself for not looking ahead. He could've prepared them. He would've sought everything to help his twins. He didn't. It's his fault he didn't look for any sign of doom.

Now he would give anything to let his daughters have a sign of hope. 

[kahlanmars]

BAD FEELING part. 28

This has been a hell of a chapter to write so PLS comment or like if you liked it!

MASTERLIST

taglist: @crimsonincursive

28. I stand with the Mockingjay

Three days pass and nothing changes. President Snow is being captured in a palace with a beautiful garden, surrounded by his beloved roses and you can’t help but think that Alma Coin is trying to make an example out of it. Presidents should be treated with kindness and respect even after being captured. You can torture civils and guards if you want, but not the President. It’s just a coincidence that she is a president. 

Katniss is always with Prim, she reads her stories and she sings for her, while her mother is catatonic again, staring at the wall for hours. You sometimes talk to Katniss, but you can sense she is desperate, she stares at her sisters for hours and hours and she doesn’t talk to Gale Hawthorne anymore, which means she knows something about the theory about Snow and Coin.

Peeta is a little better. He has to continue the therapy and he spends an awful lot of time thinking he is in the Capitol being tortured, but now he knows that he loves the Mockingjay, he knows he is not in danger anymore and he even remembers some things.

He is a patient of Doctor Aurelius too, but today she wants to see you.

«So, how's it going today? Do you want to tell me something?»

«The nightmares are a little better.» You can tell her that. You have to deny all the other things, because she is on Alma Coin’s payroll and you may like her but you definitely don’t trust her. «And when I wake up Haymitch helps me.»

«Haymitch is your boyfriend.» She asks, but you don’t know why. She knows him, she’s seen you with him.

«Yeah.» You answer her nonetheless, because it’s the polite thing to do. And he hates the term, by the way. He keeps saying he is too old to be anyone’s “boyfriend” and “partner” is more than okay.

«He is a victor too.» She points out, maybe in a sense that tells you “He needs to be helped too”. You know it, every victor should be in therapy, but he in particular is a stubborn mule. Maybe after all this mess you will insist.

«He was my mentor. Like Annie and Finnick. And we fell in love. Are you going to tell me he is not right for me?»

«No, Daisy. You know what it’s right for you. I was just wondering if you thought about what we talked about last time.» 

You thought she wanted to ask you only about the murder, and it would’ve made sense, but Dr. Aurelius wants to know about your life, so you told her about Portia’s offer and how it makes you feel. 

It felt safer than talking about Caius or Clark, at the beginning. 

«He doesn’t know that. It’s not exactly a priority right now.»

«And you still want to go to learn from Portia?» 

«Yeah I mean, I like clothes very much. I like making clothes, you have that perfect image in your head and then you try to sketch it and in the paper it’s not sure, but then you cut the fabric and you sew and you embroidery… and it’s yours. It’s exactly how you wanted and you can have it because you did it. It’s fantastic.» You explain, quickly full with enthusiasm. 

Since you were little you’ve done dresses for your doll, Olivia, with little pieces of fabrics that Holly couldn’t use anymore. She wanted you to learn, because in the district life is hard if you don’t know how to do things yourself. She made you learn how to clean, how to cook, how to hunt (that’s not something you want to do) and a lot of other skills but you really enjoy sewing, you’ve always done it even when it wasn’t a necessity anymore. You used to do it for your friends and for their dolls, when they had them. 

«But you don’t want to stay away from Haymitch.»

You just shake your head, aware this is not right, it’s a person, not an addiction. But you don’t think you would be happy without him. «He hates the Capitol.»

«What about District One or Two? They are very close to Capitol City, so you can take the train everyday.» 

This is actually a good idea. An idea that could save the day, if you survive the last straw of the revolution.

You go out of the psychologist with a great headache and you decide you need to be in your room. Your room is not even yours anymore, you spend all your time at Haymitch’s room or the hospital and Effie is always there with Portia. And here you find her, alone, so you open your arms and you cuddle against her. 

«Friend.» You request with a little pout. Effie and Haymitch can’t resist a pout or big eyes. Then again you always want to snuggle against them and they humour you more times than not, so perhaps they just like to spoil you a little. Their last tribute.

«Of course!» She pats your head. You can only imagine the state of your hair right now. «Is everything okay? Is it Little Prim?» 

«No, she is stable. I just missed you.» You get to be whiny and spoiled with her. When you are with Haymitch he is your partner, so you can ask for a cuddle but you also have to prove to him that you are independent, and if you would try to act like this with Holly she would scream to you to stop it. Effie is different, she enjoys being the big sister and you get to have a holiday from being the strong one all the time.

«Haymitch told me he loves me.» You confess after a while. You don’t even know if you can say that to her, it feels a little like cheating. You don’t completely get people like Haymitch or Perla, so private. When you are happy you want to share it with the world, you want to scream it to everybody and you are glad to hear it from others.

«That’s wonderful news!» She hugs you again. «In times like this I-»

She can’t end the sentence, because two guards burst into the room. The door was closed, so they had a passepartout. They could have entered any time, you realise with a shiver down your spine. District Thirteen is a horrible place. 

«Miss Trinket, President Coin requested your presence for an interrogation.» The guard orders, and you watch her in disbelief. For an interrogation? About what? Effie has been nothing but perfect in this dreadful district since the moment you arrived. Much more perfect and well behaved than you.

«Miss Trinket has immunity.» You get up, shielding Effie with your body. Effie is taller than you, but she is so frightened and you, well, you did the Hunger Games, you are strong. The guards are not impressed, though.

«Not anymore.» Is the only answer you get. 

It makes sense. You got arrested, you don’t have immunity anymore, let alone give it to other people. 

Still, Effie was part of the revolution. Maybe not from the start, but she was. She was the one who said to you to hold on during the Games, she was aware of the plan and she is Cinna’s friend, she is not an enemy. She was a face of the Hunger Games publicly of course, being an escort for Twelve, but so was Plutarch being a Gamemaker.

You try to take their hands off of her, but they immediately out strong you and you see this scared, afraid woman in a grey jumpsuit taken away from you.

No, no, no, not Effie.

«Let her go, she didn’t do anything!» You scream.

«It’s just an interrogation.» The guard tells you, but you don’t believe him. If you let her go you will never see her again, and she doesn’t even have a bracelet.

«She is part of the revolution!»

Just for a moment you think you will hurt that man, but the blonde woman sees the glimpse in your eyes and stops you before you could do anything you would regret.

«Find Katniss or someone who could help us.» She instructs you, so calm despite the situation.

Not Effie. Not again.

You run as fast as you can, but you don’t know who to run to.

It’s Perla who finds you before you could catch her, though. She is still in bad shape and she has bruises all over her body, but she is up.

«They have Cinna.» She pants.

«Cinna?» You ask, worried.

«All the people from Capitol City. Cinna, Portia. Cinna was with me, I was about to leave the hospital and they took him.» She has trouble breathing, her face is so red you want to let her sit down, but you have more urgent problems now.

«They have Effie too.» 

«It doesn’t make any sense! Cinna basically started the revolution! Portia and Effie were part of it. I don’t understand.» She is panicking. You start to think about who you could call for help, because you have no idea. The victors have little power over Coin, and Plutarch never listened to you one day in his life.

You rush into Haymitch’s room, but he is not there, so you try to go into the hospital room to see Finnick, but he has vanished. You don’t get it, you don’t understand and you try not to be scared, but there is no chance Haymitch would have gone without telling you.

He doesn’t know about Effie, you reason. He loves Effie, she is his friend. He will help you.

If he is somewhere. What if they took him too? 

You go to the hospital again, thinking that maybe Finnick and Lora are there, but you only find Mags.

«Mags!»

When you spot the old woman in the hospital you are so relieved. She is still there. The grandmother with grey hair and a sweet smile, who has been in the hospital since she was retrieved. You nearly forgot about her.

Then you remember she doesn’t talk and she barely remembers you.

«Where are all the victors? Where is Finnick?»

She gestures something, but you are too on the verge to understand anything. Fortunately for you, Perla is more intelligent than that.

«They are in a room with President Coin?» She asks, and finally Mags nods.

Snow is captured and the victors are in a room with Coin, something big is going on.

Finally they open the door and all the victor go out. Finnick and Annie storm out of the room so quickly they practically bump into you, and Peeta looks at everyone with sad and judging eyes. When Katniss passes next to you she doesn’t even see you. Perla decides to follow Finnick, and you kinda think it’s the better choice instead of Haymitch, but you have loyalty to him.

Johanna Mason eyes you with a smirk. You don’t know what she has to laugh about. You don’t like Johanna very much, it’s like she brings trouble, and the only times she met you she always smiled at you kinda cruelly. The dark haired girl has been through hell like you, but she’s definitely not your favourite victor. 

Haymitch is the last to exit. His face is blank, but you can sense he is not right and his hands are trembling. He looks like he wants to drink so badly you just want to hug him forever and take him away from this madness. 

«Haymitch!» You call him, and you jump into his arms for comfort. «They took Effie.»

Now everything will be okay. The victors love Effie. They will rescue her one way or another, Haymitch and Finnick always know what to do.

«They did what?» He wants to know, and he is shocked. If he doesn’t know about the imprisonment they didn’t talk about it in the room.

«They took Effie for an interrogation.» You say again. «We have to go, we have to save her. They wanted information from her.» 

«Good.» Johanna gets in the conversation. «She is Capitol.»

«She is part of the Revolution.» You snarl. You almost assaulted a guard before, you can hit a victor now. Actually you want to punch a victor now, a victor like Johanna Mason from District Seven, but you are adult enough to stop yourself. 

«Once a Capitol, always a Capitol.» She talks back. Haymitch must see your expression, because he takes your hand.

You don’t handle well violence under stress.

«Johanna.» Haymitch growls. «Stop it.»

«Oh don’t be such a hypocrite! You voted with us.» The District 7 Victor reveals, and you don’t get it. There was a votation in the room? Is that why Finnick and Annie were so upset with everybody?

«What did you vote for?» You have a bad, bad feeling.

«I’ll explain in my room.» He tries to cut it off, but the woman interrupts his words again with a satisfied grin.

«New Hunger Games.» Johanna explains taking his place. «With Capitol kids.»

New Hunger Games. New… it’s not possible. Coin really thought it was a good idea. Kids from the Capitol being reaped. The Games, the television, the arena. Memories creep in your mind and you have to close your mouth with your hand, free from your boyfriend’s. 

«W-what?» You barely manage to talk. 

This is not possible, this is not true. The Games are part of your nightmares. They are all the victor’s nightmares. They were supposed to end forever.

«Sweetheart…» He searches for your eyes, but you don’t see anything. 

«This is not true. Haymitch would never.» You look at him. «You didn’t vote yes, right?» 

Haymitch is many things, he is an addict, he is rude, he is not gentle and he is rough more times than not, but he is not cruel. He is not one for vengeance on innocent people, and they are innocent people.

You are District Twelve by luck, or the leaking of it. If you grew up in the Capitol, that wouldn’t have made you a bad person. Yes, maybe a spoiled one, but not bad. Not all Capitol citizens are pro games. Not everyone is rich. 

And kids. Kids the same age Snow bombed. Or Coin bombed. Kids the same age you teached for. 

«It’s complicated.»

«Not really. Did you vote yes?» You start to shiver. Your world is collapsing. In these months the war was upon you and you were about to die, but Haymitch was a certainty. A good man. A man of honour. The man you are in love with.

«…Yes.» He sighs.

He tries to hug you, but you take a step back. His touch is weird now, this is not your Haymitch. «Don’t you dare.» You spat. 

Your head is spinning. Other blood, another game, another television show. Nothing is changing from this revolution, just the name of the tyrant. 

«Sweetheart, please.»

«Kids, Haymitch! Cinna’s family. Effie’s family. They are with us. Capitol doesn’t mean Snow… how is that fair?» Ivy is a Capitol kid, you want to scream. The sweet girl you saved, the sweet girl he saved.

«You have to understand-»

You slap his hand because he wants to stroke your cheek and right now you can’t handle his touch. «I don’t have to do anything! Now we save Effie. Then we can discuss.»

It takes hours to finally make them release Cinna and Portia. Coin has no leverage against them, they are part of the revolution since the beginning, and the President just wants to get them out of the way because she wants the Capitol to be the enemy. 

Effie has to stay in the cell for now, for “dubious connections”, but you can pay her a visit. Dubious connection, you don’t have any clue on what it means. Maybe her parents are on Capitol side, or her friends from her past life. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to keep Haymitch and you on track, because she knows you love her.

The room is little and grey, without any window. It’s claustrophobic, tiny, you can’t live in a place like this for more than two hours without screaming. No air whatsoever. There is a - grey - bed and a bucket you really don’t want to know what is used for.

«Darling girl.» She approaches you and she is trying to smile, but you can see she is frightened. 

She is not a fighter. She is a TV host. An escort. Yes, she reaped the names of the kids, but she is not a mastermind, she doesn’t have a great plan, and she is an active part of the revolution you morons.

«I’ll take you out of here.» You promise her, reaching for her hand. She is cold, and you didn’t think about bringing her blankets. 

«You are in danger too.»

«I don’t care, Effie. You will be free.» You smile through the tears. «You have to host me in Capitol City, okay?»

You are scared too. If the new games are real nothing reassures you Coin won’t torture her to get informations or kill her like she is about to do with President Snow. 

«Okay.» She reassures you. «I promise.»

«Good, a promise is always good. You promised. I promised I would outlive the Games and I did it. Don’t break the promise, Effie.»

You hug a little more, until a guard tells you to exit. When you go out of the room you start to walk really fast, because Haymitch is behind you.

«If you just-» He begins, but you are furious this time. No amount of kisses and caresses will fix this.

«If I just what?» You turn around and face him with fire in your eyes. «And what? Your precious mockingjay said yes and you followed her?» This is mean. Katniss is a broken child herself but damn it, she should know better. You are angry at her too. Prim is the same age as Capitol kids. 

«…Yes, but-»

«Kids, Haymitch! Capitol kids are still kids!» You shout, and you don’t care if all the district watches you. You are on a black list anyway, not really beloved by Thirteen. You are definitely the next after Effie. 

«Don’t scream, it’s dangerous.» He whispers and takes your shoulders, but you scoff him away.

«I don’t give a flying fuck! You condemned kids. There will be a new mentor. A new you. A new Effie and a new me, but maybe she will be Prim’s age! Are you ready for it? You will watch it on television, I bet it will be mandatory.»

«Look at me.» He takes your wrist and dear heavens you are about to slap him. «Do you trust me?»

«I trusted you.» You reveal. You trusted him with your life, and you still trust him that he thinks he is doing the right thing, but if he’s doing it to save Katniss he is trading a child for a child. 

«Remember who the real enemy is, Daisy.» He murmurs. 

Coin. He wants to do something about the Coin situation. He probably knows everyone is in danger as long as she is in power. 

Still, he said yes. The risk is too high. If whatever the plan is, if the plan fails, the “yes” will still be active and children will be reaped again. Children are not a price to pay. Children are the spark for the revolution. You don’t sacrifice children if you are not Snow or Coin. 

«You still said yes.» You whisper, trying really hard not to cry. «Are you one hundred percent certain of what you are doing?» 

He is about to lie, you see it on his face, but he closes his eyes. «No. Not one hundred percent.»

So children are a risk he is willing to take. «If anything happens, it’s on you.»

[gamerbearmira]

FNF Mod⁉️⁉️

Coming to you never💯💯

Jkjk lol. But like. Does anyone remember FnF? I remember playing it before it got popular 😭 then after Senpai/Spirit’s week (and Whitty), everyone started making mods, but they were all the same rinse and repeat and. Everyone’s songs were just stupid hard and pretty much unplayable.

ANYWAY. If this was a mod. There would be two versions; V.S Mirabel, where you play against her. And then one where you could play as Mirabel, haha. Antonio on the speaker because. He’s so rad <33

Menu screen background and her move set and a concept for Felíx and Pepa’s week. I’m still debating on whether it should be winter themed or not

And the. I only got to do her idle animation, but. You get it right <33

Antonio is the Tutorial Week. The first week is Agustín and Julieta, second week is Camilo and Bruno, third week is Dolores, fourth week Luisa, fifth week is Pepa and Felíx, and then Bruno again, sixth week is Isabela, and the 7th week is Alma.

The first sings of each week are remixes of the ost, and then the two songs after are completely new songs. Bruno would be the only one to have a completely original song, in week 2. He’s got that creepy vibe from WDTAB, but then by week 5, he’s just. Normal Bruno 💀

What do you guys think? ((٩(´͈ᗨ`͈)۶))

[dragonmuse]

Hiii I was curious, what else does Izzy (from the Leda House verse) discover/rediscover that he likes or enjoys doing?

(oooh great one! This made me think of Pickle helping Izzy rediscover how to play, so here are four times that someone re-introduced Izzy to something he enjoys)

 Play Pretend 

Izzy knocked louder than usual. There was shrieking coming from inside, probably enough to drown out the sound otherwise. A stampede of feet came to the door and then it flew open. Pickle, wrapped in purple blanket ran away from him and then Read scooped her up with a roar. 

“Uncle Izzy, help!” Pickle screeched in delight. “The dragon has me!” 

“And I’m going to gobble her all up!” Read agreed with a wink to him. 

“We should get going if we’re going to get to the movie in time.” 

Pickle went limp and gave him a baleful look, “But I can’t go to the movie if a dragon is going to gobble me up, I can’t watch it if my eyes are in her belly.” 

“Yeah,” Read tossed Pickle a little until the girl giggled. “Everyone knows it takes a brave knight to save the princess and get her to the theater before trailers start.” 

“Yeah!” Pickle insisted. 

Izzy took another step into the apartment. The door closed behind him. Pickle and Read looked at him expectantly. 

He reached for his hip and mimed pulling out a long sword, settling into a form he’d memorized from movies when he was little older than his niece. 

“Then you’d better start running, dragon,” he growled.

“Never!” 

There wasn’t a lot of room to manufacture a chase around Read’s apartment, but they managed quite a heated duel before Izzy was able to recapture Pickle, sling her laughing over his shoulder and head for the door. 

“We’ll meet again on the field of battle, sir knight!” Read laughed. 

“Well met, lady dragon, well met.” 

Hide and Go Seek 

“Okay, costume change!”  Bonnet sing-songed and Izzy dropped his camera to his chest with a grateful sigh. 

The summer festival poster photoshoot was becoming an annual tradition that Izzy could really do without. He was already charging Bonnet five times his usual rate and was considering upping it to ten next year. His headache had a headache. 

“I’m taking a break,” he announced to the open air, deciding he didn’t give a shit if anyone else knew he was leaving. 

“Charlie!” Stede called out. “Where are the props?” 

The boy had been helping out, but he was no Alma and seemed annoyed about the whole thing. He’d barely even acknowledged Izzy when he’d said hello, so he’d left him to his sulk. 

Izzy headed for the bar, intent on a glass of water. 

“You seen the boy?” Eddy got in his way. 

“I’ve been looking at you for the past hour,” Izzy sighed. “Why? He run off?” 

“I doubt he left,” Eddy frowned. “He’s good at disappearing though.” 

“Maybe leave him be,” Izzy went around her towards the bar. 

The kid’s name got called a few more times and then they must’ve decided on their own to leave Charlie to his own devices. Izzy went behind the bar and got a glass of water for himself. Lucius wasn’t even here today, off somewhere else in the city arranging other details. The place didn’t feel right without him. Not to Izzy at least, no one else seemed bothered. He drank his water slowly, eyes panning over the room. 

He could make out an odd shadow. Finishing off his water, he grabbed a bag of pretzels and strode across the room, keeping to the shadows of the far wall. Costume changes took a fair few minutes. He had time. 

The cleaning closet that Lucius had once gleefully colonized then abandoned in favor of the staff bathroom had reverted to it’s natural state in the last few years. When Izzy opened the door, there was mostly mops, brooms, a big garbage can and some other necessities. Including, one sulky teenager with his phone tucked in among the long poles. Kid was practically a broom himself these days. 

“If you shut the door and give me those,  you can stay,” Charlie told him without looking up from the screen.

Izzy dropped the pretzels into Charlie’s lap, pulled the door closed and jammed himself down across from him. It was a generously sized cleaning closet and Izzy’s legs weren’t particularly long. They both fit in without a squeeze. 

“What the fuck is biting your ass?” 

“Everything,” Charlie muttered, tearing open the bag. “Nothing.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“I just don’t want to push props around or get everyone’s stuff that they forgot out of storage then put it back or prep for the bar or stack wigs or prep a glitter cannon and I’ve done all that and more this afternoon already. Dad said this would only be two hours and then we’d go out for dinner, but it’s been four and no one is stopping.” 

“Can’t you head home?” 

“I’d have to tell Dad and she’ll be upset and talk about being a team player and then Eddy will weigh in and everyone else has something to say...” Charlie shook his head. “I don’t want that. I don’t even really mind helping, I’m just kind of done and be left alone.”

“I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes,” Izzy sighed. 

“You’re okay,” Charlie said around a mouthful of pretzel. Izzy did not puff up over that. It was nothing to be proud of. But....well. 

“I’ll give you a twenty if you go pick me up a coffee when we start up again. You can go to place a few blocks away. Lines are usually pretty long. Get something for yourself while you’re there. I’ll tell your Dad.” 

“Really?” Charlie sat up. 

“Really. I could use it.” 

So Izzy pried himself off the floor after a few recuperative minutes, handed Charlie cash and headed back to the stage. 

“Saw Charlie,” he said, like it barely mattered to him when he saw Leda. “Sent him out to get me a coffee.” 

“He’s not your errand boy!” Leda snapped. 

“No? Seems like he’s everyone else’s today, figured I got a turn too.” 

“He’s not a servant, he’s just pulling his weight.” 

“So he’s pulling it at the coffee shop, who cares? I told him he could keep the change, he’s getting fucking compensated, you doing that?” 

Leda spat something, picked up her wig and flounced off. Izzy went back to fiddling with his camera. The idiot had to come back eventually, she was in the next set of pictures. Pete, how had been very quietly doing something to the curtain while all that was going on, slid in beside him, dress ruffling.

“Think you could send me  out for coffee?”  she whispered.  

“I’m considering sending you out for Luc. Is that what Lena is like when he’s not around?” 

“Yep.” 

“How is it worse?” 

“I mean...always worse when he’s not here.” 

Izzy could only miserably agree. 

Tag 

“What the hell is this?” Izzy grumbled as Jim did some stretches.  

“Just let them show you,” Read urged. “It’s really cool.” 

The setup was bizarre, wooden blocks of varying heights, sidewise trampolines and a mural of the city skyline painted on the walls. Jim had ducked in after they walked away from a job, insisting they come to burn off energy. Read had willingly followed and since that was him well overruled, Izzy came after. 

“You’ve come here?” 

“Sure,” Read said easily. “Jim showed me a few things. I’m not really built for it, but it’s neat.” 

A timer went off, a buzz that jolted through him and then Jim was off too. He had watched Jim operate for years. He wasn’t surprised with the jumps, the climbing, the easy way they move over obstacles. Yet, seeing it all flowing together without the interruption of people or cars was an impressive display. They finished the course in under a minute and turned back toward them with a grin of triumph. 

“What’d you think, boss?” 

He tilted his head, “Good shit. My turn?” 

Jim’s eyebrows flew up and then they ran back across, coming to bounce a little in front of him, “Willing to risk your brittle bones, old man?” 

“The rest of the afternoon off says I can tap you before you make it to the other side.” He wasn’t going to say he could beat them. This wasn’t his place and they were fucking fast.  

“You’re on. Read plays judge?” 

“Sure thing,” Read laughed. “I’ll just stay safely out of the way.” 

When the buzzer went off, Jim was out like a shot. There was no worry about burning out here, the course was too short.  Which was an advantage for Izzy too. He had taken the precious seconds to scope a path. He wasn’t going to be jumping and skittering around like a mouse. Instead, he took straightshots, weaving through the equipment. When Jim tackled a particularly high wall, he considered his options and then leapt. He wasn’t going to outclimb them, but he didn’t have to. He just had to get close enough to tug off their left sneaker. 

“Hey!” Jim protested as he jumped down, sneaker in hand and held it out to Read to see. 

“See you two in the morning,” he tucked the shoe under his arm. 

“Wait!” Read called after him. “You drove us here!” 

Izzy kept walking. He stayed near the fall pads and wasn’t particularly surprised when he crashed right into one. Jim was heavy when they wanted to be. 

“Boss, you suck,” they informed him, stealing back their sneaker. 

“Still the boss.” He considered his options, then moved quick, bucking upwards and using their weight against them to send Jim crashing down to the mat beside him. “Enjoy your data entry.” 

“Nooo,” they groaned. “Best of three?” 

“Nope,” he surged back to his feet. “Nice gym though. Thanks for the tour.” 

Jim flipped him off and he laughed all the way back to the car. 

Dancing 

Luicus counted under his breath. It was probably a bad habit if they were meant to be mastering this, but Izzy didn’t really give a shit. He was no dance instructor and they were just standing in their bedroom in the clear patch between the bed and the window. They didn’t even have the overhead light on, just the warm glow of a single lamp. 

They moved their feet in time with Lucius’ nearly silent numbers. There was music pouring from Izzy’s phone on the end table, a crooner’s voice preserved beyond the grave. He sang about love and the stars and the moon. 

The moment was so fragile that Izzy wanted to hold his breath. It would be so easy to make this something they laughed at, or something that was too silly to maintain. Luicus was leading, despite Izzy knowing the steps better.  Neither of them had stepped on a toe yet. There was space between their bodies. They were linked only by their hands, palm to palm then Izzy’s resting against Lucius’ shoulder and Lucius’ on Izzy’s waist. 

Together they traversed in tight circles.  

Lucius’ numbers gave way to words, the slightest thread of song as he caught the chorus and mouthed along to it. 

There was no one here to see. No one here to notice how Izzy leaned forward and closed the gap not with an embrace, but resting his cheek on Lucius’ other shoulder. They went on swaying as the song faded and the next began. Like the dancers on a music box they swirled around and around, content in each other’s arms.