#also the winner of the contest gets to fuck up not only our lives but the lives of countless innocent foreign bystanders :)

[zooophagous]

I think my favorite part of being an American is every four years we have a little contest and no matter who you want to win that contest, and even if you don't participate in it at all, all the other Americans are like "I hate you. Go fuck yourself. Die."

[aparrotandaqrow]

I'm gonna need everyone to get real savvy and real skeptical real fast about political polls and election models in the next 4 months. News organizations are starting to grasp for polling numbers to understand how Kamala Harris will match up against Trump, and I need you all to remember and repeat this maxim:

Electoral opinion surveys and preference polls are not useful without precedents.

The media is going to turn to them because they are desperate for narratives and we are going to be starved of information up until votes get counted.

Do not be misled; the media are effectively running to soothsayers. Both if polls show Kamala doing well, and if they don't.

Here's the thing you need to understand about election polls in the US. Predicting a winner in a presidential election is extremely nontrivial, because of the Electoral College. Outcomes depend on margins in a handful of states; this is why you see organizations like 538 talking about the "Path to 270" and the make-or-break states for individual candidates. A huge fraction of American voters live in California, and their preferences largely don't matter statistically, since California always votes blue. So a straight random poll of Americans will always show the Democrat ahead, because so many Americans live in California and New York (yes this is also why the Electoral College sucks).

To counter this trend, pollsters will use statistical models to adjust the polling sample, trying to guess at who will vote in which state, and rebalancing their polling sample (often by applying statistical weights) to try to get a more accurate sense of how the race will actually break.

So right off the bat, that introduces a serious degree of uncertainty. Good pollsters account for that in the poll's margin of error (not that the media ever let a margin of error get in the way of a narrative), but estimating the margin of error due to statistical weights itself relies on statistical models. Pollsters look at past elections and the variability in turnout relative to polling results (since there are polls that try to measure turnout specifically) to build a model for how uncertain their turnout predictions are.

And that is the key point here. A presidential election opinion poll rests entirely on a prediction of future voter behavior based on past behavior.

That works fine in normal elections with normal candidates. This was not a normal election before Biden dropped out, and it certainly is not one now. No major party's candidate and presumptive nominee has dropped out after the main nominating contest. Not since the advent of the modern party system with primaries and caucuses that are open to the average voter. No major party has fielded a campaign for the presidency during a standard election year in only 15 weeks. Ever.

We do not know what impact that will have on voter turnout, in any demographic or in any region. We have no precedent for this.

So if someone tries to sell you a narrative about how the election is going? They are lying to you in order to sell you a narrative, either for propaganda reasons (a campaign) or financial reasons (a for-profit media enterprise).

I know it is tempting to grasp at every straw of information to understand how the campaign is going. Trust me, I have 3 weather forecast apps and 4 weather radar apps on my phone. I know how compelling it is to want to know what's happening and what will happen.

The best we can do is have conversations with the people in our lives who are not convinced they want to vote for Kamala Harris or aren't convinced they want to vote, and honestly and earnestly get them to come out to vote. Doesn't matter what state you vote in. Don't let historical precedents that do not apply dictate your actions. Have those conversations.

And for fuck's sake, ignore the media pundits losing their minds trying to fill the airwaves with predictions. They don't know what's going to happen any more than you do.

[pickalilywrites]

Christmas cookies 🎄🎅 baking contest, 1st prize: Ten Free $100 gift cards to Paradis Mall. Anyone can enter.

Judges: Erwin, Nile & Pixis

You can choose you wins

springlestein wins in my heart

christmas cookie competition

snk ensemble. modern au. 2387 words. read on ao3.

Paradis Mall is holding their first annual Christmas cookie competition, open to anyone who is willing to participate. Professional bakers, baking hobbyists, and inexperienced-in-baking friends looking for a way to get into the festive mood took part in the competition, and now they’re all lined up in front of three industry professionals that are about to judge their creations. Somehow, the Paradis Mall was able to book renowned celebrities in the baking world. Most participants assumed that the “special guest judges” would simply be someone in a Santa costume accompanied by people that, despite donning vibrant red and green costumes and pointed caps, were far too tall to be elves and yet insisted on the label anyway. Instead, this competition has Dot Pixis, who has been a part of the baking world for nearly fifty years and is famous for his chain of bakery-cafes The Rose Garrison that have spread across the entire world, the famous television baker Erwin Smith, who has been praised for giving detailed explanations behind the science of baking, and Nile Dawk, who is well-known for participating and winning many theme cake competitions.  

“Thank you again to all who have participated in Paradis Mall’s first annual cookie competition! It has been an incredible delight to see what everyone has brought for us today, and we hope that you’ve had a lot of fun,” Erwin smiles and a few women in the audience swoon. His voice is like smooth velvet. It’s only one of the few things that makes him so charismatic to watch. “We have had the honor of not only seeing but also tasting your wonderful creations.”  

“It has allowed us to give our own insight on all the preparation that has gone into these cookies,” Pixis says. The old man smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkling in the corners. “We’re very excited to announce the first winner of the annual Christmas cookie competition, the one that has embodied the true spirit of Christmas.”  

“And while we are officially the judges of this Christmas cookie competition, please be reminded that the final winner was decided by a majority vote from mall patrons that have so kindly taken the time to participate,” Nile says a little too hastily. He coughs when he realizes he’s spoken perhaps a bit too quickly and recomposes himself. “Of course, the winner should be very proud of being able to capture the hearts of so many people and exemplifying Christmas through their baking.”  

At the very end of the baking participants is a table where a few children are accompanied by their chaperones. The kids are bouncing around excitedly, convinced that they’ll be chosen. If they aren’t picked as winners, they’ll be disappointed but will soon forget their loss. Participating in this competition will forever be a cherished Christmas memory for them. 

“We’re going to win!” Gabi says, shaking her friend’s arm so enthusiastically that the poor boy’s teeth chatter. She jumps up and down, unable to keep still. She looks over at her uncle and his boyfriend with a huge grin on her face. “Aren’t we going to win, Uncle Reiner?” 

“Of course, we are, Gabi,” Reiner coos before reaching out to ruffle his niece’s hair affectionately.  

“Don’t get her hopes up. She’s going to be crushed if she loses,” Bertholdt hisses, but he keeps a strained smile plastered on his face. He doesn’t want Gabi to be disappointed, but they’re up against some actual fucking bakers that make cookies and even more complicated pastries for a living.  

“If she loses, I’ll just get her a duplicate prize,” Reiner replies easily. 

“Really? You’re just going to buy her the same prize they’re giving out today?” Bertholdt says. He loves his boyfriend, but sometimes Reiner can be ridiculous. “You’re going to buy ten $100 gift cards just to make your niece happy? I’m not sure that’s financially responsible, Reiner.”  

“My biggest responsibility is to love my niece!” Reiner says defensively, hugging Gabi tightly against him and the girl giggles happily.  

“Maybe I shouldn’t have stacked the snowmen so crookedly,” Falco murmurs unhappily. His hand reaches out to touch the white chocolate covered cookie balls that were stacked and decorated to look like snowmen. He pulls his hand back before he can touch the cookies, his eyes darting worriedly towards the judges as if they’ll accuse him of cheating if he tries to arrange his cookies after they’ve already been presented for judgment.  

“I don’t think it matters very much,” Udo says, pushing his glasses that are forever slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Anyway, some people’s cookies look a lot worse than ours.”  

“When can we eat them?” Zofia asks, looking over at Reiner. Her hand is already reaching for a lopsided snowman cookie ball whose arms are falling off. In the blink of an eye, she snatches it off the plate and pops it into her mouth. Udo and Falco look scandalized, but she just flashes them a toothy grin. 

In front of Pieck and Porco sit gingersnaps and gingerbread men. Half of the gingerbread men have amputated limbs after being damaged on the car ride to the mall. Porco looks displeased with their submission, but Pieck looks like she doesn’t mind at all. 

“Come on, Pokko. The gingerbread men are adorable no matter how many limbs they have.” Pieck leans against her boyfriend and gives his arm an affectionate squeeze. “It gives them character. Who wants perfect gingerbread men anyway?”  

“At least we can eat them to console ourselves when we lose later,” Porco sighs. Knowing that he and Pieck were never really bakers, Porco hadn’t come to this competition with high hopes to begin with.  

A cool blonde taps her foot impatiently as she waits for the judges to announce the winner. She notices her dark-haired companion staring at her and she lifts her chin up. “What?” she asks almost defensively. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Marcel says hurriedly, but it’s clear that there’s something bothering him by the way his gaze keeps darting towards the impeccable red velvet cookies that are stacked on the plate in front of Annie. When he can no longer contain himself, he asks Annie, “Did you buy those from a store and just submit them into the competition?”  

“Yeah. I figured they wouldn’t be able to tell,” Annie says with a shrug. “What are they going to do? Put me in jail?”  

“I guess you have a point,” Marcel says with a sigh. He looks down at his plate of candy cane cookies. They were made from sugar cookie dough that had been dyed red and white before being twisted together to resemble the beloved Christmas candy. The recipe had insisted that making the cookies was much easier than it looked, but Marcel ended up prepping the cookies for nearly the entire day because he couldn’t get the shape right. It probably wasn’t good sportsmanship to just buy cookies from the store and claim he made it himself, but Marcel can’t help but admire Annie anyway.  

Ymir peers at the frosted cookies that sit in front of Historia. The cookies are covered in a layer of royal icing and have intricate designs piped over them. The cookies have been cut into various shapes: ornaments, Christmas trees, and snowflakes. The only strange thing is that Historia isn’t much of a baker. She hardly ever steps into the kitchen at all. Ymir is pretty sure Historia doesn’t even know how to turn on the oven.  

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Historia says with a roll of her eyes. She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest, averting her eyes to avoid looking at the amused expression on Ymir’s face. “These were homemade, okay?”  

“Homemade from your family’s personal chef?” Ymir asks with a grin.  

“... the personal chef didn’t have a lot of baking experience so we hired a professional baker,” Historia eventually confesses. “But they made it in our kitchen so, you know, it still counts.”  

“Sure, it does,” Ymir chuckles. The gesture towards their own cookies. Like Historia, she has also brought iced sugar cookies although her designs are a lot less polished. One of her Santa cookies looks as if the face is melting off. Nonetheless, Ymir looks proud of her cookies. Jokingly, Ymir remarks, “You know, they almost look as good as mine.”  

Historia responds by rolling her eyes. 

Jean, Sasha, and Connie are huddled around their own table as they predict their chances of winning the competition. While Jean is doubtful, Sasha and Connie are optimistic. After all, their cookies have everything. They didn’t follow any particular recipe. They had started from a simple sugar cookie dough and then improvised anything else. Jean had been the one to first suggest they add in some red, white, and green M&Ms to make it more festive. Connie and Sasha had then added even more festive candies until they added every Christmas candy that came to mind: Andes chocolate, broken up mint Oreos, and crushed up peppermint. Sasha and Connie proudly dubbed them the “Everything Christmas Cookies.” In his mind, Jean named them “Christ-mess Cookies.” 

“You can’t get any more Christmas-y than our cookies!” Sasha says, chest puffed out proudly. 

“Anyone who eats one of our cookies is going to shit out Christmas for days,” Connie agrees. 

“Or maybe just get a stomachache and a mouth filled with cavities,” Jean murmurs.  

Beside them is another group of friends. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin look at their odd assortment of cookies in front of them. They had initially planned to bake the same cookies together but found their tastes were too different and ended up baking their own. Mikasa had baked classic chocolate crinkle cookies dusted in powdered sugar. Armin had taken the time to painstakingly beat egg whites until they reached stiff peaks to make his peppermint meringues. Eren had the most unusual submission: one gigantic chocolate chip cookie. 

“I thought we were supposed to make Christmas cookies,” Armin murmurs. 

“It’s a cookie made for Christmas,” Eren shrugs. “Anyway, it’s not like Santa cares. Do you think he’d turn down a gigantic chocolate chip cookie? Chocolate chip cookies are the superior cookie anyway. I have this competition in the bag.”  

Armin and Mikasa observe their friend in silence. 

“You have such an interesting brain,” Mikasa says before patting Eren on the shoulder.  

“Thanks,” Eren beams.  

The judges are making their final rounds, chatting with all the bakers before finally announcing the winner. Once they’ve reached the last table, Erwin claps to get everyone’s attention. For anyone else, simply clapping never would have worked but now everyone has stopped to look at Erwin. Even mall shoppers that were walking past have stopped in their tracks to listen to what he has to say.  

“We’re absolutely astounded by the number of people who voted, but what perhaps is even more surprising is the number of people who voted for our winner. The talented baker managed to perfectly encapsulate the feeling of Christmas in their baking,” Erwin says. 

“Yes, I really have to agree with this year’s winner. Their cookies just scream ‘Christmas,’” Pixis says. Beside him, Nile can’t hide his confused expression but Pixis continues. “It is our great pleasure to announce that this year’s winner is ... Levi Ackerman!”  

The crowd cheers, but the victor looks far from cheerful. The short, dark-haired man scowls from behind the table even as his friends celebrate behind him, hugging each other and cheering. In front of him is his plate of cookies: overbaked lumps of dough that resemble large, lumpy, black rocks rather than actual cookies. The cookies probably aren’t even edible.  

“We won! We won!” his friends shout behind him. 

“Yes, congratulations!” Pixis says cheerfully as Nile reluctantly hands over ten $100 gift cards to the Paradis Mall to Levi. Even if Nile doesn’t seem to approve of the victory, Pixis is more than supportive of the majority vote. “I saw your entry and thought, Ah! Cookies that so perfectly resemble the lumps of coal that we were so afraid of receiving as children, our constant reminder to be good people and to do good deeds during the holiday season. I also voted for you, you know.” 

“Thanks,” Levi says flatly, pocketing the gift cards without batting an eye. If he’s surprised to win, he doesn’t show it on his face. “That’s very kind of you.”  

“You’re very welcome. Have fun spending it!” Pixis says.  

“Thank you all for participating, whether you submitted something for the competition or were just a spectator. Our first annual Christmas cookie competition has been a rousing ... success,” Nile says, although he doesn’t seem quite convinced of the words that are coming out of his mouth. The crowd cheers anyway, happy even if Nile is still quite confused about who was chosen as the winner. “Please have a wonderful holiday and we hope to see you again next year!”  

Levi’s friends are clamoring around him, their hands outstretched as they wait for him to distribute the gift cards. There are five them total including Levi, so they all expect to be handed two each.  

“I bet you didn’t think you would win, did you, Levi?” Petra asks. 

“I knew he would win. His entry was far superior to everyone else’s,” Auruo sniffs only to yelp loudly when Petra elbows him in the ribs. He whimpers and rubs at his side with one hand, giving his friend a wounded look. 

“I bet you’re glad you burned those cookies now,” Eld chuckles. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing you kicked us out of the kitchen for making a mess. Otherwise, we would have helped you bake cookies that were actually edible,” Gunther snickers.  

Levi smirks as he gazes down at his friends’ outstretched hands. He doesn’t reach into his pocket to distribute the gift cards. Rather, he turns around and looks back at his friends. “Why should I give you any of the cards? I ended up baking them on my own anyway.”  

The friends watch in stunned silence as Levi walks without glancing back at them. It’s too difficult to tell from his flat tone if he’s joking or not. After a heartbeat, they begin chasing after him and calling his name calling, “Levi! You’re just joking right? Levi? Levi!”  

[infinitethree]

OOC::

It took ten goddamned months, scrapping upwards of 15k worth of prose, and Innit deciding to evolve itself out of fucking NOWHERE

But bastard lad's bastard backstory is finally going live! There's still technically four chapters not done, but they're all in the back half. There are 30 chapters and currently about 72k of prose. The actual working doc is much closer to 80k.

Updates will be every Mon-Wed-Fri until it ends on November 30th.

My goal was to have this fic fully written before I published a single word of it. I didn't quite manage that, but it's pretty close. Of the four chapters not fully written, three have significant portions done. The remaining one is the epilogue (which has already had two or three iterations). There's a summary of what I want to happen, but if I can't fight my ornery muse to make her cooperate within a month or so I'll scrap it again and do something entirely different.

I wanted it out on or near September 24th because that marks a year since I wrote the first doc that wound up becoming chapter one of "Two Talks With Rather Different Tones".

...Which was started and finished on the same day.

I've been writing for sixteen years, but...never fandom content, and never solo. I didn't think I was capable of doing either until I tripped and stumbled ass-backwards into writing Day and Theo (my beloveds).

So a year of writing fic feels very, very special to me. I wanted to finally share my absolute favorite character, crown prince of bastards, Daz. I hope by the end, everyone better understands why I love him so much. I also hope there's wailing and sobbing.

To celebrate this year of fic writing, I'm doing three contest/scavenger hunt/guessing game type deals. They're all a bit different but the premise for each is similar:

Figure out a piece of information and win writing.

The one for "Blood & Gold" can only have one winner, but the ones for the "Mostly Benevolent" series and the askblog can have multiple ones.

For here, though, there's some interesting facets. One of those is that the prize isn't really set in stone. Like you gotta be reasonable about it and you do have to pick something related to my writing, but the winners get to ask for something of their own choosing.

If you're interested in participating, the contests can be found in this folder.

The askblog has secrets that nobody has come anywhere close to figuring out. Part of that is because there's really only Noodley who gives me questions, and they already know those secrets.

[mahixa]

Formula 1 is full of stories that even the most cheesy and sappy Hollywood writers would never be able come up with. Brocedes? Lestappen? Carlando?

Oh hi, I'm just a rich son of a famous Formula 1 champion, I want to be your friend, poor English boy, I don’t care about your background. Wanna stay at my place? Wanna grow up together? Wanna end up in the same team? Be best friends forever? Fall in love with each other? Wanna crash our cars together and let the rivalry destroy our bond? Wanna publicly say we are not friends any more? Wanna unfollow me everywhere on social media and avoid me forever? Even when after a few years I keep saying over and over and over again how amazing and brilliant you are? Appreciate you on live national television? HUH?! Did you hear that we were everything but lovers? Hah, little do they know. Wanna say that Valtteri is the best teammate you have ever had and cause me to cry in Italy to a bunch of strangers? LEWIS ANSWER ME. TEXT. ME. BACK. WE STILL LIVE IN MONACO AND I SEE YOU BUYING MUFFINS. LEWIS. LEWIS. LEWIS.

and:

Oh yes I'm just a very grumpy and extremely talented boy who will not allow some Monegasque pretty bitch drive faster than me. I called him a pretty bitch because English is not my first language and I'm only 12 and of course I wanted to say he is pretty much a bitch. He is totally not pretty. I would never call him that. Pfff. He is also pretty and annoying. Damn it I wanted to say pretty annoying. Anyway. Thankfully he is too stupid to end up in F1 with me. Wait what? He's here? WHAT. I AM CALM. I TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY AM- what do you mean he's the one who just crashed into my car. Again. What- God. And he is so cute and flustered when he gets asked about me and I really want to talk with him more than I probably should so hold on a second, hold on a moment, let me, a winner of the 5th grade school geography map contest, ask this dummy about the difference between these two flags. He was wrong with the answer. I don’t care. He looked nice while being wrong. I just like the way he moves his lips. And his bright eyes are okay I guess. He smiles when someone mentiones me and then he crashes into me again. It does things to me. It’s hard and IT’S HARD you know. It makes me angry. You know what? Fuck him. Well, I might as well do that if he doesn’t stop being so pretty and chaotic. I MEAN PRETTY CHAOTIC. SHUT UP. SHUT UUUUP. SHUT UPPPPPP I FEEL NOTHING.

followed by:

Oh well, I’m a Spanish guy with everything neatly organised and I am focused on being taken seriously and I don’t really represent this stereotypical Spanish loud vibes, I’m a calm guy who- wait a minute isn’t that some cute gremlin? He is younger than me and uses words like “noob” and doesn’t explain the meaning to me and just chuckles and he plays video games which are not FIFA and I don’t know how to win at such things but catch me at 1 am trying to learn how to play that stupid COD or whatever that’s called, and since when I want to impress some young twinks? Well, one twink, to be honest. Oh no, he makes me laugh in public like a maniac and I can’t control myself he always laughs at my crappy jokes and is that a blush on his cheeks? Am I blushing too? He makes me feel so comfortable in my own skin? He doesn’t judge me but we have that cute banter going on? He likes when I teach him things? Golf! Chess! Kissing- I MEAN. He says he doesn’t like being touched but here we are, he’s leaning against my shoulder and allows me to touch his tigh and GOD look at his face all glowing everytime we talk, I might end up marrying him, well watch me proposing right now.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

American Song Contest live reaction from a local swede

HELP

Oh my god it’s so… american

Laughed from the first note of Minnesota’s. Sounds like a song from Disney Channel

The crowd is so overexcited?? Like are they ok?? The hosts say 1 word and they are all like ”WOOOHHHH!!!! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼😂😍🥳🤩”

The charm with the crowd in esc is that you can only really hear it in the background a little more quietly, cause the microphone is not directed at them. Here it’s like ”LOOK THE CAMERA’S THERE LET’S SCREAM AT EVERYTHING”

Liked Oklahoma’s song!

Arkansas’ song is not my cup of tea, but what I thought about was her intro. She was like ”haha a normal stereotype is that we don’t have shoes or cars 🤪” like ?? Listen a lot of small cities in my country, we can joke that they live like medieval people, but we know that’s not the case. But in this case they act like people genuinely believe this? Like taking it too seriously like ”we’re not that far behind guys 😃 Come on 😀” I mean, I am sure people don’t legit take it seriously, but they act like they do

The crowd doesn’t even laugh at the host’s jokes? Like every time a host cracks a corny joke in ESC, you can hear a distant laughter. But here, when the hosts joke they cheer?? Imagine telling a joke and people go ”WOO!! 🤩👏🏼”

Indiana’s song was fine

Why are the hosts basically acting like every song is a #1 hit. Like ”I loved it what did you think?”, ”I loved it yeah it’s a jam”.

I was like ”Is Puerto Rico part of USA-” but apparently it is. Learned something new

Yeah this is pog it sounds like something they would sing on Soy Luna (I was gonna say Violetta too, but Violetta never had this kind of music, this is specifically something they would sing on SL)

Michael Bolton… ah, a name I have heard a lot but I have never actually known exactly what he’s done KEKDIDOIDOWI

Ok song from him but I love how awkward he looks. Like ”💨🧍🏼💨”

Iowa’s performance slaps

Cheese propaganda

Yeah Wisconsin’s performance is nice - not a song I would listen to (I don’t think I would listen to any song) but watching the performance? It’s nice

Not sure if he did a 🤌🏻 or a 🫰🏻 or a 🖕🏼

Missisippi’s song is ok but THE RANDOM DUDES WITH THE TAMBOURINES NEXT TO HER HAHAHAHA

AND THE GUITAR SOLO HAHA I like this

Love how every song is Snoop’s favorite song

HAHAHA COWBOY RAPPER WYOMING

Oh my god Wyoming is like how Swedes describes their hometowns. To outsiders, our towns are interesting, but when you live in the town you’re like ”eh. I mean sure, it’s fine”. For example, my hometown has an old church with two clock towers and one of the oldest schools in the country (it was first founded in 1246! But obviously has been rebuilt and relocated around town several times) and that’s kind of cool and impressive, and we have a culture here, but when you’re actually living here you’re like ”Yeah I mean it’s ok”

HELL YEAH COWBOY RAP

Them showing the hosts during the song is… a choice

Rhode Island wasn’t my cup of tea but it was fine

Please say they have a middle act. Middle acts are one of the most fun things

Ok they aren’t

Nerkidfidikd Rhode Island won??? Ok?

It just ended

????

Ok

They didn’t have time to say the winner before the credits just spedrun

Wh-

Also why are there judges instead of the viewers voting? Everyone who has watched ESC knows that the jury votes very often just fucks up the numbers. It’s the audience votes who gets the REAL fan faves to win

Aight should I liveblog next one too?

[grav3yardbb92]

Dave Navarro x reader imagine

On this very special live episode of Ink Master, two fan favorites will compete head to head. Please join me in welcoming tonight's artist Ryan Ashley and Sarah Miller."

I stand behind the stage, watching my fiancee as he introduced two of my favorite artist, one of which will be painting their next masterpiece on my skin.

" Your canvases for tonight are very knowledgeable in tattoos and have specific designs in mind. You challenge is to adapt to whatever they ask for, you are NOT allowed to change their minds on placement or design."

Dave let out a small chuckle, the audience may not have noticed, but I sure did. And I knew exactly what he was thinking. Neither of them would be able to change my mind. I fight for what I want. I always have.

" Now, let's bring out your canvases" after he speaks, Dave glances in my direction and I walk out to the stage, stopping to stand at his left.

" As fans and former contestants of the show, you should recognize both these lovely ladies" Ryan and Baby both nod, looking a little nervous, realizing who we both are.

Judges wives.

" On my right, Carol Anne, wife of your judge Chris Nunez and to my left, my beautiful wife y/n." He pauses to glance at me, flashing a small smile before continuing. " Not only are these two ladies special to the ink master family, they have something more inspirational in common...they are both cancer survivors." I smile proudly at his statement, and he looks toward Carol to explain her situation and her tattoo.

" At the age of 19 I was diagnosed with skin cancer, I underwent multiple surgeries and skingraphs along my back" when she pauses to wipe her tears, Chris moves from his seat to hold her. Once she collects her feelings, my husband prompts her to continue.

" And what would you like ?"

" A bouquet of colorful flowers with butterflies down my spine" she answers him with a smile.

He takes a moment to catch the artist reactions, before moving to face me.

I take in a deep breath and his smile comforts me more, enticing me to share my story.

" Four years ago, I had a relapse of bone Cancer in my left hip. I also went through multiple surgeries, resulting in a ridgid scar down my side." As I spoke, Dave took hold of my hand, squeezing it to reassure me. " I would like a black and grey, broken heart, stiched up across the scar" I give out the details of my idea, leaving out a small part, which is a surprise for Dave.

Because Carol and I were both familiar with the artist, we were given the choice of whose work we wanted desplayed on our bodies. Carol chose Sarah as her artist.

" Alright now, y/n, I know you're excited to have Ryan as your artist"

" Oh, yeah, I've been a fan of her's since the beginning, and I know she'll give me an excellent peice."

" Okay, artist, you have ten hours to complete your tattoos. Time starts now"

About an hour into the session, Dave steps into the room, checking on Ryan's progress. " How are you doing, doll?" He questions, leaning down to kiss my cheek. " I'm good" I answer simply, before the needle hits a tender spot of scar tissue, causing me to wince slightly. Dave doesn't address my expression, only smiles at me again before glancing back at Ryan.

"Well, carry on, Ryan, and remember that's my life in your hands" he gestures toward me, finishing with a wink before exiting to check on Ryan's competitor.

Within the next few hours oliver and Chris came in to check out the artpeice. They each questioned her on her feelings on the competition and the design. Then Chris questioned me on the special part, that I didn't mention in the beginning. This is live and Dave is not far away, speaking to the audience, so I quickly shush him and ask him to keep my husband away until the end.

Throughout the rest of the time, Ryan and I are keeping casual conversation as I also listen to dave conversing with some of the artist from past seasons. Before I know it, he is addressing the audience and anouncing the final two minutes. Ryan cleans up my hip and helps me up, allowing me to see the peice clearly. " Wow. That's awesome Ryan"

" Thanks girl, I'm so glad I could do that for you"

The time finally came to reveal my new tattoo to the live audience and all of america watching on tv, not to mention the most important veiwer of my body art. I know I love this, I just hope he does too.

Dave sits at the table, with the other two judges, smiling brightly as I lift the cloth of my top, the him of my shorts pulled just low enough to show off the work, but cover my most intimate parts. The audience erupts in an uproar of applause, shouts, and whistles. A smirk stretches across Dave's face, indicating that he noticed the lyrics of one of my favorite songs from his band, that adorned one side of my, now beautifully decorated, scar.

Ryan begins an explanation of her concept of the design I described to her. Then the three men add their opinions on her work, just as they did Sarah's just a few minutes ago.

" Now that both artist have showed off their skills and explained their work, it's time to get to the judging. Now, it wouldn't be too fair for Chris and I to judge our own wives tattoos, so this decision will be made by the audience and tv veiwers, via Twitter."

After that anouncement, the cameras cut to commercial, and to give the luve audience time to vote, the judges went back and forth with their own comments on the artists work.

Thank fuck! he likes it.

3.2.1.

" Welcome back to Ink Master. The home veiwers and live studio audience have placed their votes." I smile at Ryan, nudging her arm to reassure her.

" And the winner of this special Ink Master show down is......"

Me, I'm the winner and so is Carol. We have and will continue to win our fights, and we will look good doing it.

[americasass91]

Pull-Up Contest

So here is my second ever request! Thank you @shythingstudentdragon​! I had a lot of fun with this! It’s kind of a sequel of this 👉🏻 Push-Up Contest. But it can be read as a one shot. Of course it is smutty! My specialty. Haha. Also I just want to take a moment and thank every single person who reads my stories! You’re awesome! You’re extra awesome if you like, comment, or reblog! But I love everyone who reads them! I just put them out there in hopes of helping you escape from this fucked-up world if only for a few minutes. That’s why I read fics. Okay and because I’m a Super Hoe for Chris Evans and more recently Henry Cavill👀. But anyways I’ll shut up! I hope you lovelies enjoy this!

Also. I’m well aware this👇🏻 is Ari and not Steve but fuck me 🥵

Rating: Explicit(duh, it’s me 🤷‍♀️)

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral(m receiving), shirtless Steve(This is a valid warning), language, I think that’s it.

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You were starting to think that there was something seriously wrong with you.

Here you were, at another one of Tony’s parties, supposed to be mingling with everyone and making friends and building stronger relationships.

But all you could think about was your sexy as fuck super soldier and having him pin you down against the pool table he was currently standing at and fucking you until you couldn’t see straight.

It was his fault really. Ever since 2 months ago when he and Tony had that push-up contest and you’d asked him to fuck you after, he couldn’t stop.

You’d be minding your own business and just walking to the gym for a workout when all of a sudden you’d be pulled into a closet and Steve would have his way with you.

Or you’d be having a movie night with the Avengers and he’d bring you to orgasm on his fingers as many times as your body would allow under the blanket you two shared.

So really this was all his doing. The fact that you were sitting at the bar with yet another Amaretto Sour and clenching your thighs together is all his fault.

There he is playing pool with his stupid perfect blonde hair. And his stupid tight, blue button up shirt. And his stupid tight, black pants.

You know exactly what’s in those pants and you can’t help but feel needy. You are trying your best to control yourself. You even keep trying to pull Nat into a conversation but then zone out when she starts telling a story.

She’s just about to snap her fingers to get your attention when a commotion starts over near the couches.

You both walk over in time to see Clint attempting to lift Mjolnir off the table.

You go sit by Steve who kisses your cheek. “Um, What’s he doing? He knows he can’t lift that right?”

Steve chuckles. “Well he’s had a little to drink and Thor told him only people who are worthy can lift it so naturally Clint thinks he’s worthy.”

You roll your eyes. Next Tony stands up and starts pulling at it. He has no luck. He quickly leaves the room.

You wrap your arms around Steve’s neck. “Well, what about you? Think you can lift it?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I may be a little tipsy on Asgardian Mead, but even I know I’m not worthy either.”

Your eyes widen a bit. You pull back and study his face. His cheeks do look a little flushed and his smile is a little dopier than usual. You’ve never seen Steve anything close to tipsy before.

“I bet you could. You should give it a shot. You’re my big, strong super soldier.”

His eyes darken a bit and he leans in to whisper, “I think there are other ways I’d rather show off my strength to you, baby girl.”

Shivers go down your spine. But before you have a chance to respond, Tony returns. This time he has the right arm from his suit on. “It’s just physics.” He exclaims as he goes and grabs the hammer again.

And to no one’s surprise, he fails again. He scoffs and tells Rhodey to go get a piece of his suit.

Steve is trying his best to hold in his laughter. As is everyone else in the room. The almighty Tony Stark can’t lift Mjolnir.

Rhodey comes back and they both attempt to lift it with no luck. Eventually everyone who wants a turn in the room has tried and failed. Steve is losing it at this point. All because Tony can’t get over the fact that he’s not worthy.

“What’s so funny Captain Righteous? You think you’re worthy to lift it? Why don’t you give it a try?”

Steve rolls his eyes and stands up. “Tony I really don’t need to prove anything to you. You’re still pissed that I wiped the floor with your ass with that push-up contest you challenged me to.”

Wow, it may be the Asgardian Mead talking but damn. He was being a little cocky and fuck if it wasn’t turning you on.

“You know something was wrong with my suit! And what are you too afraid you won’t be worthy? Go ahead. Everyone else has tried.”

Steve rolls up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. Fuck. You cross your legs and clench your thighs together.

“Fine, I’ll try my best.”

He grabs the handle and tries to lift it. You swear you see it move just a fraction. But then he pulls again and nothing.

“Ha! Even the great old Captain America can’t lift it!” Tony points and laughs at Steve.

Steve looks pissed. He goes and stands in front of Tony and pokes his finger to his chest. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is, Stark? Sure I can’t lift the hammer, but I can certainly lift other stuff.”

He goes over to the couch where Bruce and Nat are sitting and bends down and lifts it up over his head. Holy shit. Well there go your panties.

He gently places the couch back down. He then smirks and starts flexing his arms. “You couldn’t do that without your precious suit Tony. So just admit I’m stronger and let’s get on with our lives!”

Tony scoffs. “Like I’d go down without a fight! How is my suit any different than you being genetically enhanced? You wouldn’t be able to even breathe without that serum swimming through your veins! Hell you’d probably even be dead! So I think it’s still a fair fight when I use my suit against your ‘muscles’.” Tony put the last word in quotation marks with his fingers and then crosses his arms and raises his eyebrow expectantly at Steve.

“Fine! If you think you’re so amazing then how about another contest? A Pull-Up one this time? If you think you can handle it?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Bring it on, Capsicle!”

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Next thing you know, everyone from the party is down in the gym making bets on who’s going to win. You refuse to engage in such childish antics. You’re standing off to the side with Steve who has done a few more shots of Asgardian Mead.

“Babe, are you sure you want to do this? I mean you already proved yourself with the push-ups.”

He rolls his eyes and waves you off. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. Let me just take a few seconds to kick his ass and then I’ll take you back to my room to celebrate my win.” He gives you a wink that goes straight to your still-wet pussy.

Tony saunters in with Rhodey with both arms of his suit on. He meets Steve at the pull-up bars. “Alright, ready to lose you old timer?”

Steve scoffs. “Bring it on, tin man.”

They are about to jump up to the bars when there is a shout from the back of the crowd. “WAIT!”

Everyone turns toward the voice which happens to belong to a very inebriated Maria Hill. “They should do this shirtless!”

“I really don’t see how doing this shirtless is going to-” Tony gets cut off by girlish screams coming from the audience. He looks over and sees that Steve has already removed his shirt and is posing and flexing his muscles.

“I think doing this shirtless is a great idea!” He smirks over at Tony, knowing full well he has the better physique of the two.

Tony scoffs once again. “Oh please, let me show you what real muscles are supposed to look like. Not ones that came from a bottle.”

He of course makes Rhodey put on some kind of sultry song while he seductively strips his shirt as best he can over the arms of his suit. He throws his shirt in Pepper’s direction. He of course has to do a few poses himself. Making sure his muscles are also on display. Which you have to admit aren’t too bad. Nothing compared to your super soldier, but still, not too bad.

Rhodey stands in front with a stopwatch. “Alright ladies! Let’s please get this over with because there is still more alcohol to be drunk!” The crowd cheers at that.

You move over to stand beside Nat. “So who are the odds for?”

She smirks as she’s counting her money. “Oh easy. After that last display, Steve.”

You smirk back. “Well I’m biased but if I was betting, that’s who I’d put my money on too.”

She raises her eyebrow at you. “It’s not too late to make a bet.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not going to bet on my friend’s failure, Nat. I told you that.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

You move your gaze back up to Steve who is now somehow in the middle of a posing contest with Tony. They look fucking ridiculous if you’re being honest. You just smack your forehead and shake your head.

“Alright, Barton! Banner! Get up here! Banner, you’ll be counting for Stark and Barton you’ll be counting for Rogers.” He glances back at the two flexing morons. “And please let’s hurry before they embarrass themselves further.”

You chuckle at the look Steve is now giving Rhodey. He reluctantly stops flexing and gets back into position. Tony mimics him.

“Alright, the most pull-ups in 60 seconds will be the winner! Ready? Set? Go!”

Once again you are so glad you don’t have to count for Steve. They are both going way too fast for you to keep up. But then Steve starts grunting every time he pulls himself up and that steals all of your attention. It’s the same sound he makes when he’s fucking you and you can’t handle yourself.

He must be focusing on you because all of a sudden he makes eye contact. You bite your lip and clench your thighs. He smirks and let’s go of the bar with his left hand and starts doing one armed pull-ups. Jesus Christ. He winks at you. His pace has only faltered a little. You still think he’s going to win. God damn you can’t wait until he takes you-

“Time! Alright let’s see how our ladies did!” Rhodey turns to Bruce. “Okay, Banner. How many did our Tin Man do?”

Bruce replies with 214.

The crowd erupts into cheers. “Okay! Okay! Settle down! We need to get the other number before we get all crazy!” He turns to Clint. “Okay Barton. How did Cap do?”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest and flexes. He throws a smirk your way.

Clint raises his head and smirks at Banner. “350.”

Steve starts clapping. “And the best man won, again!”

Tony lowers his head in defeat. “Well, Capsicle. Good match. I’ll get you in something eventually.” Steve goes over and shakes his hand. “I look forward to it, Tin Man.”

You look over at Nat. “So what are you going to do with all of that money?”

She shrugs as she counts it. “Maybe donate it? Buy some expensive shit I don’t need? Not sure yet.”

You shake your head and make your way over to Steve. He’s buttoning his shirt back up. “That was quite impressive there, super soldier.”

He just smirks and picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal as he smacks your ass. “We’re going for a swim to celebrate!”

“Put me down, Steven!” You try to say with authority but fail when a giggle escapes you.

Tony points at your retreating forms. “So help me god if you fuck in that pool!”

Steve turns quickly to look at Tony. “What do you expect, Stark? We’ve already christened the kitchen, the gym, the movie room, and several utility closets. Might as well christen the pool too!”

“Fine! Alright everyone! Pool party!” Tony screams. The crowd cheers and heads in the direction of the pool.

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Steve finally sets you down when you get in the elevator. “Well now what, genius? You didn’t have to tell him your plan of fucking me in the pool.”

He smirks. “That was never my plan, baby girl.” He presses the emergency stop on the elevator. “I’ve always wanted to take you in an elevator. Now I believe I won a contest so I think I deserve my cock sucked. So.” He looks from you to the floor as he unbuckles his belt and lowers his pants and briefs enough to free his rock hard cock. He hisses as its slaps against his abdomen. “Well what are you waiting for, sweetheart? It’s not gonna suck itself.”

You cross your arms and raise your brow at him. “And just what makes you think I even want to suck your cock?”

He smirks and presses his body up against you and backs you up against the wall. His erection is now pressed against your stomach. You can feel his precum leaking through your shirt.

He puts his hands on either side of your head and leans in to whisper in your ear. “Because you want me to fuck that sweet pussy don’t you? You’d do anything for me to fill you up. Make you come so hard around my cock that you can’t even remember your own name. And because I can smell your arousal, baby girl. I know you want to. Now why don’t you be my good girl and get on your knees and open that pretty little mouth for me?”

As much as you hate to admit when he’s right, you know he is. Without any hesitation you lower yourself on your knees and open your mouth.

He groans as you look up at him. He strokes your cheek and grabs the base of his cock. “So fucking pretty on your knees for me.” He brings the tip to your mouth and smears his precum around your lips. Then he proceeds to push the head inside. You place your hands on his thighs for leverage and start sucking his tip and making sure your tongue is licking over the slit. He moves one hand to the back of your head and grabs your hair. He places his other hand against the wall.

You remove your mouth from his cock and lean back and take some deep breaths. He looks down at you. “Getting ready to take me in that throat, dirty girl?”

You nod your head and once again lean forward. This time you take him all the way down until his pubic hair is tickling your nose. You hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as you can while running your tongue along the vein on the underside of his dick. You start counting to 10 in your head.

“God damn, look at you. My little cockslut swallowing me whole. I’ve taught you so well.” He moves the hand that’s on your cheek down to your throat. “Fuck baby, I can feel myself in there.”

You get to 10 and pull off of him.You take a deep breath and wipe the tears that have fallen down your face away.

He tilts your chin up. “You are doing so good baby. So good for me. Can you swallow me one more time? Then I’ll fuck that tight, little cunt.”

You moan at his words. “Yes, Captain. I’ll be a good girl and swallow your cock again.”

You lean forward and take him in your mouth all the way down again. You begin to suck and work your tongue. Steve is grunting and cursing above you. You don’t even make it to 7 when he’s pulling your off of him and raising you to your feet.

He pushes you against the wall and crashes his lips onto yours. He hastily unbuckles your belt and pushes your jeans and panties down in one go. You quickly kick them and your sandals off to the side.

Steve moves his mouth down to your neck and starts sucking on the spot that drives you insane. He takes his right hand and movies it in between your legs to your heated core. He’s instantly met with wetness. He growls against your neck and proceeds to push 2 fingers inside you until he’s knuckle deep.

You grab onto his shoulders for support and whimper out his name. He takes his left hand and starts pinching your nipple through your shirt and bra.

You start grinding against his hand. You move your fingers up into his hair and tug. “Stevie, please. Need you.” You’re able to moan out.

He smirks against your neck and removes his fingers. He brings them up to your lips. You waste no time and suck them into your mouth, enjoying the taste of your arousal on them.

He releases his fingers and grabs your thighs and hoists you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. “Are you ready, baby girl? I don’t think this will take very long. You got me too worked up with your pretty, little mouth.”

You quickly nod and once again tangle your fingers in his hair. “I don’t care. Just please fuck me, Captain.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. “Guide me in, sweetheart.”

You move one hand in between you and grab a hold of his cock and move it towards your entrance. You ruin the head along your opening a few times, getting it nice and coated in your slick. As soon as you remove your hand, Steve snaps his hips forward and fills you with one thrust.

You scream out into the otherwise empty elevator. Grabbing onto Steve’s shoulders, nails digging in. “That’s right baby. You like the way my cock fills you up? Like feeling me that deep?”

You can only nod in response. He gives you a few more seconds to adjust before he starts thrusting at a brutal pace. You can only hang on and enjoy the ride.

“So fucking tight. God damn I love this cunt. Like it was made just for me. Isn’t that right, baby? Your cunt was made for my big, fat cock wasn’t it?”

You whimper out what you think is a yes. You’re not entirely sure. With every thrust his tip kisses your cervix in the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. You already know your orgasm is going to be intense. You can feel it building.

“Fuck baby, I can feel you squeezing me. Gonna be a good girl and come for me? Come all over my dick?”

“Harder, please Stevie.” You are able to moan out while tugging his hair hard enough to make him growl. He obliges and starts slamming into you harder. His hands on your thighs tighten even more. His lips attach to your neck. You know there’s going to be bruises and hickeys tomorrow. You could care less.

All you cared about right now is being here in this moment with your Steve. Even though he was fucking you stupid in an elevator, you couldn’t help but think how much you cared about him. You were so in love with him it stole your breath away.

He moves his lips up to your ear and bites your earlobe. “Come on, baby girl. Come for me. Need you to milk me. I know you can do it. I know you’re close. I can feel you. Come for me, pretty girl.”

That was all you needed. You came with some kind of mix of a scream and a moan. You’re not even entirely sure what you said. You just know you have tears running down your face from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced.

Steve stops thrusting and still inside of you. It takes you a minute to realize he’s no longer moving. You look up confused. At the same time you both say,

“Did you come?”

“What did you just say?”

You look at him with what you can only assume is a confused expression. “I didn’t say anything...did I?” You try to bring up any recollection of the thoughts that were going through your head the moment you reached your high. You couldn’t come up with anything.

Steve helps you out. “You said, ‘I love you’.”

You chuckle for a minute and then your eyes go wide as you stare into his beautiful, ocean eyes.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

You guys hadn’t said that to each other yet and here you are screaming it out mid orgasm inside of an elevator.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I was in the throes of passion. I didn’t even realize I said it.” You cup his face.

You can swear you see disappointment flash in his eyes.

“Oh. So, you didn’t mean it.” His gaze falls onto the wall behind you.

You grab his cheeks with more force and move his head so he’s looking at you again. “I didn’t say that.”

The corners of his lips raise slightly. He looks so adorable and vulnerable right now. Like the man before the serum. “Really? You love me?”

You beam at him and lean in for a passionate kiss. Hoping to show just how much you love him through it. “Of course I do, you big meatball.”

He laughs and rests his forehead on yours. “I love you, too. So much. Tell me again.”

You smile, happy to oblige. “I love you, Stevie.” You feel his cock twitch inside you. He groans and starts thrusting again. He moves his head into the crook of your neck.

You hear him mutter into your neck. “Again.”

“I love you, Steve.” You tangle your hands in his hair as his thrusts return to their brutal pace from before. You can feel his cock twitching even more. You know he’s close.

You move your mouth to his ear. “Come for me, baby. I love you. I love you so much, Steve.”

You hear your name in the form of a moan falling from his mouth as he pushes himself all the way in and releases inside of you.

You both just stay like that for a moment. Clinging to each other. Coming down from your highs. Both from your orgasms and from your confessions.

After a few minutes, Steve raises his head up and pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You smile so big, you think all of your teeth are showing. “I love you too, Steve.”

He was about to say something else when he’s cut off from a voice from above.

“Look, as much as I’d hate to break up this beautiful moment, I have something to say….Are you guys fucking kidding me?? The elevator? You know that’s the elevator I take everyday! You fucking did this on purpose!”

You and Steve burst into laughter at Tony’s anger.

“Oh yeah you’re laughing it up now! You won’t be when I make you take the stairs for a month for this little tryst! Your elevator privileges are hereby suspended!”

Steve smirks at you mischievously. “Ooh, we haven’t done it in the stairwells yet!”

“God dammit” you both hear from the speaker.

Permanent Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​, @drabblewithfrannybarnes​, @harrysthiccthighss​

[suga-kookiemonster]

let it snow | teaser

summary⇢ it all started by accident, but it continues by choice—even before you began sleeping together, things with your friend taehyung have always been comfortable and easy. simple, and this new arrangement between you is certainly no exception to that rule. well...that's definitely what you thought before a major snowstorm traps the two of you in his apartment over the holidays. now? now, it is quickly becoming apparent that things are a bit more complicated than you realized. pairing⇢ taehyung/reader estimated word count⇢ ~16-17k  rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | fwb!au | snowed in!au teaser⇢ 2.3k

this excerpt is unedited, so it’s liable to change! i’m gonna try really hard to post on december 21st at 6pm CST, but i’ll keep you all updated lmao you know a bitch always writes too much 😭

“Didn’t you wear that sweater last year?” Seokjin asks, though he already knows the answer. Really, the only reason he’s asking you is to give himself room to segue into the topic of your perceived lack of holiday cheer.

“And I’m gonna wear it next year, too,” you reply cheerfully, forever unbothered by the judgmental scrunch of his nose. You gesture down the length of your chest, where a woven Christmas tree with real flashing Christmas lights proudly sits beneath the words Get Lit.  “This fucker cost sixty-nine ninety-five and I plan on getting my money’s worth.”

“How do you think you’re ever going to win our annual ugly sweater contest if you just keep recycling the same one?” your friend points out as he puts his final touches on a rather beautiful charcuterie board. As the member of your friend group who thrives off of playing the gracious host, he would usually also be dumping cheap vodka down someone’s throat. But due to your various schedules, your friend group has been forced to have your annual get-together a bit too late for those kind of shenanigans this year. Road trips and train rides and being squished on airplanes can already be a bit of a headache, but adding navigating the holiday rush with a raging hangover? Yeah…everyone is smartly playing it safe tonight. So wine and cheese it is—though that doesn’t bother you one bit. If it were socially acceptable and wouldn’t give you scurvy, you would live off that shit.

Seokjin’s own sweater this year is delightfully horrendous, a printed on mockery of a suit and bowtie. The visually-jarring combination of olive green and a murky red—all against a repulsive santa hat print—makes him a solid contender for this year’s winner.

Still, that makes you no less satisfied with your own choice of attire. “You really think I’m gonna buy a new one every year when I only wear them once?” you ask incredulously, successfully swiping a grape before he can swat your hand away. “Hey, at least I bothered to change the batteries in this thing! That’s a lot of effort for a fucking sweater.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouts, lifting the tray to take to the others.

You easily trail after him into the living room, sipping on the mulled wine he had poured for you before you had even slipped your shoes off. God, you loved when Seokjin hosted parties. “You weren’t saying that that time I drank Yoongi under the table.”

“That’s not hard to do. Yoongi has two good drinks and goes to bed.”

“Two drinks of hard liquor, so that’s irrelevant! I still drank more. And you’re conveniently forgetting that it was was some sort of fancy scotch and it was icky, so I should be awarded bonus fun points.”

Yoongi himself, casually splayed across the sofa, looks up at the sound his name, but remains entirely nonplussed. His sweater has a big picture of that one internet cat making a face at vegetables that is always getting yelled at in memes by one of those rich white reality tv housewives. The hilarity of it almost makes you regret your choice not to get a new sweater this year. Almost. “You may have drank more,” he drawls, “but I seem to recall you being the one under the table at the end of the night.”

You internally wince at the memory—or, to be more accurate, the lack of—as you promptly make yourself comfortable between him and Taehyung, who is snickering at you. Tae had been the one to pull you from under said table, to take you home. “My point still stands.”

“That’s because you were pretty wasted before the scotch,” Jimin pipes up.

“Most people with common sense have to be wasted to drink scotch,” you quip, grinning pointedly at Yoongi. As expected, he doesn’t take the bait—simply gives you a flat stare and takes a sip from his own wineglass. It takes a lot to rile up your dark-haired friend, and so you often amuse yourself by teasing him to see if you can.

Jimin laughs. He’s curled up in an opposite armchair, his girlfriend Nia seated comfortably on his lap. Normally, you would find this blatant sort of PDA annoying, but these two are adorable, so you let it slide, simply happy that your friend has found someone who makes him happy. Nia has been a bizarrely seamless addition to your little group—enough so that Jimin felt comfortable including her in your holiday tradition of exchanging gifts. So unless they start to get handsy, you refuse to make a big deal out of it and be as big of a Scrooge as Seokjin claims you are.

You feel Taehyung shift, and when you turn, he is already looking at you, amusement dancing across his features. “Nice sweater,” he says.

“Thanks. I put a lot of thought into it.” You bite the inside of your lip to dampen your own smile. “Yours is pretty snazzy yourself.”

The sweater in question is printed with a complicated Where’s Waldo illustration, and you can’t help but run a finger across the material of his arm in search of the elusive striped character.

“Cold,” Tae says, and when you respond by trailing your finger over to his chest, where a suspiciously-large group of santas are congregated, you feel his body tense a bit in response. “Warmer.”

“Check his nipples,” Hoseok yells from across the room. You roll your eyes good-naturedly, ignoring the way Jimin bursts into laughter at the suggestion. Taehyung flicks an eyebrow in challenge.

“Or the armpit,” Namjoon offers helpfully. “If I were hiding on a sweater, I’d pick an armpit.”

“Hmmm, that’s a fair point. Up!” you command, and Taehyung laughs and lifts his arms without complaint, allowing you to properly inspect his armpits for the elusive character. When it becomes clear that you aren’t going to find what you’re looking for there, you take another sip of your wine and dutifully turn your attention back to his chest, intending to search in earnest.

But before you can, the speakers next to the couch spring to life, startling you a bit. Despite your initial confusion, you slowly start to recognize the familiar tune of Frosty the Snowman, jumbled over an EDM beat. It’s loud and extra and toeing the edge annoying, and your head immediately snaps to Jungkook, who declared himself the DJ of the party years ago and has stubbornly refused to give up the position ever since. He grins at you, clear mischief in his eyes, and you know then that he’s only playing the abomination to annoy the living shit out of everyone.

Though Seokjin’s busy being a good host and passing out cups of spiked eggnog, you can see how well Jungkook’s plan is working by the flush spreading up his neck. “I thought I told you to play Mariah,” he huffs over the racket as he hands Nia hers.

Jungkook looks nonchalantly at his phone, where he’s projecting his supposedly carefully-curated playlist via bluetooth. “She’s on here.”

“What about Dean Martin?” Taehyung asks. “You know, the classics? Or literally anything else.”

You snort. Taehyung’s music taste has been known to sometimes overlap with Jungkook’s, so for him to be so visibly disgusted, you know it’s bad. “What about that one chipmunk song?” you suggest.

Jungkook winks at you, shoots you some finger guns. “Already got you, boo.”

“Oh god,” you groan, glaring at Yoongi when he starts snickering at you. “I was totally kidding.”

“Well, I wasn’t!” Jungkook says cheerfully. He has to yell a little bit to be heard over the booming bass. “When it comes to Christmas bops, I never kid.”

You groan louder. “Jungkookie. Please!”

“I don’t know—I kinda like it,” Alexa pipes up, and you have to put forth actual effort to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. Alexa is Hoseok’s newest fling, and while Nia slots into your group dynamic easily, Alexa, in your opinion, is a bit of an airhead. She’s pretty, but you would bet actual money that she’s the type to think Chicken of the Sea is actually chicken—and you’re pretty sure she’s not even filming for a reality show, so she truly has no excuse. But that seems to be Hobi’s type—someone who is easy on the eyes and won’t try to force him to commit. To be honest, you’re pretty surprised that she’s lasted long enough to make it to your friend group’s borderline-sacred holiday get together, but you’re even more surprised that Hobi actually bothered to bring her.

“Thank you, Alexa,” Jungkook says pointedly, and frankly he probably has a better chance at annoying Yoongi tonight than you do. “You have great taste.”

You must be making some sort of face, because Namjoon takes one look at you and sucks his lips into his mouth, like he does when he’s trying not to laugh at inappropriate moments.

“At least turn it down a little,” Seokjin sighs. “You already made my neighbors file a noise complaint on me on Halloween. I’m not trying to get another one.”

“Hey, you were the one screaming on Halloween, not me.”

“Because we were watching a movie about demons! You told me we were gonna watch Air Bud!”

“To be fair,” Taehyung pipes up, “nobody watches that on Halloween. So you walked into that one.”

“You know that’s my favorite movie,” Jin says loudly. “And for the record, Hobi screamed louder than me!”

Hoseok just shrugs. “I don’t handle the supernatural well. Especially when the supernatural are little kids. Give me old lady ghosts any day.”

Seokjin and Jungkook keep bickering, but that honestly is just a testament to how close they are. In fact, your whole little group is rather close, and It’s actually bizarre to think about how these are your closest friends, because when you stop to think about it, you’re all here, in Seokjin’s living room sipping on festive cocktails, by pure chance. Your sophomore year of college, Yoongi, your roommate’s boyfriend, was often over your apartment. The two of you became friendly, and when they ended up breaking up, he never broke up with you. (You’ve never felt particularly bad about that, because your roommate was more of an acquaintance than anything else. You lost touch with her once the lease was up, anyway.) Namjoon and Hoseok were in the same music theory class as Yoongi, and the three of them have made music together ever since. Seokjin used to be Namjoon’s favorite bartender at his favorite bar. Jimin frequented the same dance class as Hoseok. Taehyung is Jimin’s best friend from childhood. Tae befriended Jungkook over some online game he was obsessed with at the time, and when they realized they lived in the same general area, he made the—in your opinion—stupid decision to meet up with him.

It all turned out for the best, of course. Because that’s the kind of luck Taehyung has—he draws people to him without trying, his good energy attracting only more good energy. And that’s exactly how you would describe the friend group the universe allowed you to stumble into—good energy. Good vibes. Well, it was when Jungkook wasn’t playing a screamo version of Silent Night. Which he was. Right. Now.

“Hey,” Namjoon yells over the ruckus, leaning closer to Tae to be heard better. “Where’s Jisoo? Did she not want to come?”

One breath, two. Something in the universe shifts, just slightly.

“Jisoo?” you repeat. Your brain shuffles through any logical possibilities before confusedly settling on the pretty girl Hobi had set Taehyung up with months and months ago. The pretty girl he had gone on a single date with and then never mentioned to you again.

“She flew home last week.” Tae looks uncomfortable. Your stomach twists. “And hyung, I told you it’s not like that.”

One date and he had never mentioned her again, so you had reasonably assumed that had been the end of it. But clearly, from the way Namjoon’s brows furrow in confusion, from the way Taehyung so carefully does not look at you, this is not the case. Clearly, he just never mentioned her to you.

There is an awkward silence in your corner of the room, because it’s blatantly obvious that you’ve been left in the dark on this and now, by accident, you’re suddenly not.

Sensing the weird energy, Namjoon reaches for a cookie shaped like a candy cane and stuffs it in his mouth, quiet.

You can feel Yoongi’s eyes boring through your skin, but you ignore him, refusing to look in his direction. You smile instead, though it feels off around the edges. You hope it doesn’t look that way too. “Huh. Congrats. I didn’t realize you were still seeing her—you never mentioned it.”

Taehyung rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not really serious.”

“Three months is serious enough,” you reply airily. Three months since Hoseok set them up. Four since— You look away, finishing the last dregs of your wine. “Sorry she couldn’t make it.”

Tae’s lips part, but whatever he has to say never comes to fruition. Seokjin claps his hands and yells for Jungkook to turn the music down so you can get the festivities started.

Clearing your throat, you use the distraction to stand up and make your way back into the kitchen, where the mulled wine is still being warmed by a crockpot. You have a flight to catch in the morning, but you figure one more glass can’t hurt.

[soulmate-game]

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Day 5: Overprotection

Disclaimer: Dick was adopted when he was 12 in this fic. Just for math’s sake.

—*—*—*—*—*

“What.”

Damian stared at his father, face carefully blank. Bruce grimaced, shifting.

“I said, you have a half sister. Biological.”

Four sets of eyes bored into him, from all of his sons. They were gathered not in the Batcave for once, but just one of the sitting rooms in the Manor.

“... and what, Father, does that have to do with the French class visiting Gotham?” Damian asked again, posture steadily growing stiffer and more and more stone like. He was trying hard to suppress emotions, but not even he was quite sure what those emotions were yet. Anger? Fear? Resentment? Probably. He might have detected some excitement there too, deep, deep down. Bruce took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for this.

“Well. I’ve kept up with her life, but last time I checked she had no idea that she was adopted. When her birth mother died, it was right around the time I adopted Dick. She was still an infant, and I knew I was not equipped to handle taking care of a baby—“

“Father,” Damian interrupted again. “You sent her off. Have her up for adoption,” he said slowly, as if realizing that that would have been his fate had his father known about his existence earlier, as well. It was almost ironic, considering how Bruce seemed to have a problem with adopting other children nowadays. Bruce nodded.

“She was adopted by a couple in France. Paris, to be exact. I’ve kept up to date, asking them to just send me a letter or email once or twice a year about the general stuff she’s been up to. Nothing too invasive. A few pictures. And last time I asked them, they said that she had no idea about being adopted or that I was her father,” Bruce sighed again, running a hand over his face. “But I think she does.”

“Why?” Jason asked, confused as everyone else to the change in subject. Except Tim and Damian, who seemed to be quickly connecting the dots.

“Oh boy,” Tim breathed. Bruce just nodded.

“Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She is the one who organized the trip for her class to come here, to Gotham. She is the one who entered and won our international internship competition, and turned that into an excuse to get her entire class to come here for two weeks. To get to know the place she will be living for her internship next year, after she graduates Lycee, France’s version of highschool essentially.”

Tim winced. He had been in charge of the internship competition, and Bruce had given him free reign. He had chosen the winner without even thinking to run it by his adoptive father.

“Bruce—“ Tim tried, but the man just held up a hand.

“I don’t blame you. I haven’t been paying too much attention to her life, and I didn’t expect her to do something like this. But we know now that, if she does know and this isn’t a giant coincidence,”

“Unlikely,” Dick agreed, wincing. “Possible, but unlikely.”

Bruce huffed in agreement. “Then, we know she is very resourceful, determined, and has skills that impressed Tim enough to choose her out of tens of thousands of contest participants worldwide.”

“The minimum requirement for a Wayne,” Damian finally managed to bite out, still coping with this proverbial slap in the face but doing his best to handle it. He was seventeen damn it, and had come a long way from who he used to be. He could handle this. He could. He would.

Bruce rolled his eyes, and then leaned forward with his hands braced on the table. “Okay. So now we need to make plans.”

“Plans?” Jason asked, frowning. “For how you’re gonna tell her without getting your faces plastered over every tabloid in the city right?”

“No,” the older man shook his head. “Plans to keep her alive, unharmed, and unaffiliated with us until she leaves. I will not be making any public appearances unless absolutely necessary, so trips to the Tower are out of the question—“

“Are you…” Jason’s eyes were wide. “Trying to keep her out of our Shitshow? Because yeah, kudos to you even if it took you way too long to learn, but if she went through all this trouble to come here then it's probably too late.”

Dick nodded. “If she’s anything like you and Damian, there’s no way she’ll back off easy. Avoiding her will only make it worse on you, and probably the rest of us too.”

Damian stared straight into his father's eyes, glare sharp and searching. “What is this about, Father? You have not worried this much about any of us—“

“Because none of you were as naive!” He barked, quickly catching himself and taking a breath. “You all had a way you could benefit from this life. A way I could help you. But Marinette has both of the parents she has known her whole life, they treat her wonderfully. They care. She’s never had to worry about constantly moving, or fighting, or going hungry. The only deaths she has ever experienced have been from afar and due to natural causes. She designs as a hobby and has no problem with socializing or handling emotions in a healthy way— introducing her to our life holds no benefit for her. The only thing it can give her is unnecessary danger and risk and secrets.”

“Yeah, well. I guess Batman doesn’t know everything, does he?” A new voice startled them all from the doorway, making everyone's head whip over to see who had managed the near-impossible and snuck up on all of them.

Standing there, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, was a short part-Asian woman in her late teens. Her midnight black hair was cascading down her back in one thick braid, tied off at the end with an indigo ribbon. Her eyes were a piercing cobalt blue, matching those of Bruce perfectly. Her jaw was clenched, and the infamous Bat-glare coming from her was directed right at the person who made the expression infamous in the first place.

“Marinette,” Bruce breathed, shoulders squaring. “Your plane isn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow.”

“It won’t,” she agreed. “I took a portal here. You see, my extensive research into Batman’s known habits and tactics, which I started after I figured out about your alter ego last year, informed me that you tend to go to the extremes to protect people you deem incapable of protecting themselves, and are also prone to idiotic self-sacrificing behavior in the form of purposely making yourself look like an ass.”

Jason chuckled. “She’s got you down to a T, B,” he quipped with a grin despite the caution still in his eyes. “But let’s back up a bit, little Spitfire. What’s this about a portal?”

Marinette pushed off the doorframe, walking closer to the scattered group. Tim and Jason were spread across one sofa, Damian on the other with Dick, and Bruce was occupying an armchair. Marinette just walked until she stood where she could easily be seen by everyone, but also had nobody at her back.

“The portal is part of a bigger story. Like, the fact that father dearest wanted to protect me so badly that he placed the JLE in Paris, but didn’t realize that relations with that branch were so bad that the JLE never informed him or the JLA about getting kicked out of France and reassigning themselves to Italy. Bruce never kept a close enough eye on the city, because he wanted to keep emotional distance, and therefore was completely blind to when a supervillain showed up and terrorized Paris for almost five years,” she continued, her glare never leaving Bruce’s face.

“I found out about being adopted when I was eight. I found out who my biological father was when I was thirteen. Last year, I finally put in the work to connect Bruce Wayne to Batman. And yeah, I never told Maman and Papan, because they have never completely understood me. They wouldn’t have understood that I was fine with having no contact with you, back then. That my snooping had nothing to do with being unhappy with them as my parents. They would have immediately assumed they were inadequate when I am merely curious by nature. But then I ended up being chosen to be one of the child heroes that fought said domestic terrorist that showed up five years ago. And I sure as hell couldn't tell them that a magical artifact showed up on my desk one day and that the god inhabiting it told me to fight the monsters the villain made and just, just go with it. I couldn’t tell them when I went from being one of two Parisian heroes to being the leader of a team. I couldn’t tell them when my elderly mentor, unable to fight by our side but who had at least provided emotional support and knowledge, passed away and gave me his title and responsibilities. I’m sick and tired of being protected, Monsieur Wayne,” Marinette didn’t seem to notice the tears that had begun to fall.

“I’m sick of it. I know you were trying to keep me safe, but I fought a war I wasn’t prepared for. I died, thousands of times. But my own powers and the powers I have my partners brought me back to life. Over and over. I don’t need protection, damn it. I don’t need you to distance yourself, because you're the only fucking person I can call a parent who might understand,” she held out a hand, her scowl turning into a gentle smile. “I have so much I need to talk about. Before I drown under all these secrets. Please. I’ll go back through another portal before my parents notice I’m gone, but I’ll be back in town tomorrow when my plane lands. Just. Please, don’t push me away. That’s all I ask. I want to get to know you, all of you. I… I need family who understands.”

“Thousands.” Bruce repeated, all of them still recovering from Marinette’s very sudden, info-dumping speech. “You died… thousands of times?”

Marinette laughed, but it was a sad sound. No mirth there. “I gave my friend a magical artifact that reverses time, and the artifact that gives me my own powers can reverse any damage from a fight I use it in. Even death. Sending untrained teenagers to fight a villain three times their age makes some kind of failsafe like that kind of necessary.”

“Fuck,” Jason cursed under his breath. “Well. You’re welcome to join the living Zombie club,” he offered. The girl snorted, giving him a watery grin in thanks.

“I’m sure you know about my stance on powers and metas,” Bruce decided to say, wincing immediately after. That wasn’t what he meant to say. At all. He earned another brief glare for it.

“I’m not a meta, and I only have powers when I use the artifact to transform, thereby borrowing powers from the miniature god that the artifact houses. Think of it like doctor fate, but my gods are actually not parasites and my powers are much more… specialized. I had to learn combat on my own, and I was able to train in my sleep with the past users of this artifact. That includes people like Fa Mulan, Joan of Arc, and someone you actually know— Hippolyta. I’ve mastered more fighting styles by now than I care to remember, and I’ve done gymnastics since I was three. I don’t know if my parents told you that in their letters. I even won the gold in the nationwide France gymnastics competition two years ago. I assure you, I don’t rely on my powers nearly as much as you might think.”

Bruce swallowed. “I can… greet you when your class arrives.”

Marinette grinned. “Well, that’s a start.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Idk what happened, I don’t know if I like this at all but oh well. I’m posting it anyway. Maybe one of you will like it. I… couldn’t really find any other way to do this so oh well. Also, I think Mulan was a past Dragon..? But I put her as a Ladybug because I Can.

@momothefemur @ladybug-182 @starlightshield @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @sam-i-am-0222 @bluesimani @ruelukas22 @acoolspacegirl @iamablinkmarvelarmy @meme991001

[thebooki3h]

Lukadamianette Au Part 2

First Here Next

We begin where we left off, with Luka and Marinette on one of the dates Luka Planned. Just because it makes sense in this, Luka and Mari arrive a week early

Because Mari is emancipated and excused herself for the first week of school before the trip during which the class is still in France bc they just ended summer and all that jazz. also I have decided that the trip has turned into a half semester exchange program even though this doesn’t make the most sense, but the French school thought the class could use a reward and tbh they just wanted to get the Akuma class out for awhile. Also this way they aren’t in Gotham for a whole semester of senior year. The trip is planned for the first half of the first semester of senior year. I know that this doesn't make a whole lot of sense but just stick with me.

They go sight seeing and basically on a week long date bc the following week begins the Wayne sponsored exchange program and when Luka has to work for Jagged. One day they go to museums, the next the go to famous parks around Gotham (which are thriving thanks to Poison Ivy), the next they see all of the famous villain spots (which are surprisingly popular tourist destinations bc for the most part they don’t get hit twice in short periods of time) which is a good cover for studying past bat battles. They take days in between to rest and use the inspiration they gained to make new songs or clothing designs. 

They share hotel room bc Mari’s parents stopped being her parents a long time ago and lost their say and bc Jagged says they are grown up enough to be responsible for their actions (which brings a blush to their cheeks every time bc “daaaaaddddd” “uncle jaggeeedddd”)

Mari also makes it her mission to visit all of the non chain coffee shops at least once while they are there bc coffee became her best friend when she was active as ladybug. She meets Tim in almost everyone because Tim also drinks coffee obsessively. Luka is more of a tea drinker because coffee interrupts his musical thought process and tea is less harsh. Marinette drinks tea when she wants to relax but coffee is the fuel of the gods. She expresses this to Tim and that's how they become acquainted bc finally someone understands his love for coffee. They exchange numbers after they run into each other for a fourth time. (Luka silently thinks that he might have to talk to Mari about her obsession of coffee again and if there is a rehab center for coffee drinkers) Tim learns that Mari is from the exchange class very quickly based off of Luka’s French accent as well as her light French accent that is mixed with a couple things he can’t quite place.

The class arrives, Lila ofc tried to pull something to leave Mari behind and she thought she was successful so she was gloating. She ofc took credit for the whole trip claiming that she was super close to the Waynes and that she helped Damian acclimate to his new school (she actually knows that Damian didn’t start living with his father until 10 bc why not). Mrs Bustier tries to check in under both her name and Lila’s name, both of which don’t work because they are A) an hour and a half early and B) all of the reservations are under the contest winners name (they have to ok their chaperones to use their name) C)Mrs Bustier told Mari to make all of the reservations under Mari’s name anyway and she totally forgot that. 

So the sit in the lobby for an hour, Lila has the whole class riled up bc Marinette isn't there and it is al her fault that they can’t get in to their rooms. Marinette shows up with Luka 15 mins before the class was supposed to show up (they had just gotten lunch at a cafe that jagged had recommended) and she is laughing and happy, which causes the class to BLOW UP in her face. She ignores them and checks everyone into their rooms. Kagami and Chloe share a suite bc they are rich in their own right and upgraded their shared room bc they are dating and signed up to be roommates. They got this okayed by Buister in writing JIC. Marinette as the contest winner also got a suite (the room she had been staying in with Luka that she just extended the booking for)

Lila and Alya obviously make a big fuss about them getting special treatment but bustier can’t do anything because Mari won’t let her. She secretly thinks Mari is a lost cause now but she tries her best to get her to see that she has to be a role model. Mari actually planned the whole trip and she did a fucking fantastic job bc its Mari and planning something is what she is great at. She has all of the bases covered including iternerary, bookings for food, emergency contact info, health info, info on Gotham, safety procedures and the whole shebang. All of which had to be approved by  Bustier and that Bustier has copies of but totally ignored.

The next day they try to pull the let’s leave an hour early to leave behind Marinette stunt. Not only does that fail because the tour can’t start until the contest winner is there, but they arrived before Wayne tower was even open to the public. Because jagged is extra he shipped Luka and Marinette motorcycles to Gotham bc they were going to be there for a couple months, they also got special permission from Wayne enterprises to park their bikes in the employee parking structures from Tim once he heard that they rode bikes as expensive as Jason’s. So she left early from the hotel with Luka(bc she knew that Bustier would leave her behind somehow) to go meet up with Tim at a new coffee place (one of his favorites). They end up riding on their respective bikes to WE together so they can hang out before the tour. Luka goes to a recording studio to meet up with Jagged, but not before a very passionate kiss goodbye, which makes Tim blush. (Tim may not seem like the biker type but he is a bat and he lives with Jason so he not only knows how to ride a motorcycle well has one, so it may not be his favorite mode of transportation but he’ll live)

So he and Marinette walk to WE about a half an hour before the class is supposed to be there in the middle of a debate on how best to brew coffee (Mari insists its French press) and low and behold they are there yelling at the receptionist. Mari gives Tim a look that says I’m so sorry you have to see this and yes I was not exaggerating walks up to the receptionist and apologizes for what she is about to do (not for the classes actions bc fuck them they can apologize for themselves she has learned to not take responsibility for others actions and she won’t let all that work go to waste). She then proceeds to yell, much louder than someone of her stature presumably should “SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I STG I WILL BREAK JOKER OUT OF ARKHAM AND LOCK HIM IN A ROOM WITH ALL OF YOU WITHOUT FLINCHING” this is shocking to everyone, especially mrs bustier who is  scandalized  that her role model student would do something like this.

Tim had a feeling that something video worthy would happen so as soon as she walked away he started recording, and he was NOT disappointed. The video gos straight to the batfam gc and Luka immediately. He powered off his phone then he proceeds to start laughing and applauding. Upon seeing the CEO’s reaction the rest of the employees start applauding as well bc damn those kids were rude. Tim then walks up to Mari talking at a speed no one but Mari, Chloe and Kagami could understand (bc the class is not fluent in English no matter what they would tell you). Mari proceeds to blush once he informs her that he sent a video to Luka (he does not tell her about the batfam gc)

Chloe and Kagami are immediate intrigued bc this is NOT what they picture when Mari said she met someone who loves coffee as much as she does. they may be hella gay for each other but damn that man is ripped. They join the convo while the class remains befuddled bc who knew Mari even swore. in the back of his mind Nino is reminded of a young blue-eyed girl who lost playground privileges for a week bc someone made fun of his glasses and proceed to punch said someone in the nose. But he shakes it of because Mari hasn’t been like that in years. 

Bustier eventually collects herself and gently, so as not to cause an Akuma (apparently she didn't get the memo), reminds Mari that they are here for a tour and she needs to get the class their passes.  So Mari leaves her friends to get acquainted and goes up to the receptionist, to whom she apologizes for her actions again, and the receptionist replies with a laugh and a “honey, you just made my week, there's no need to apologize I should be thanking you” (she does thank Mari). Mari gets a special pass bc she’s the contest winner to which Lila and Alya (then the rest of the class for the most part) proceed to throw a hissy fit over. The receptionist is so over them though and doesn’t even blink. 

Then their tour guide shows up. (its Dick and his assistant Damian). Damian proceeds to scold the class for a solid ten mins (which coincidentally leads up to their scheduled time to start the tour). Dick slides off to talk to the receptionist and his brother who isn't working and is talking to real people for once. Just for that they are his favorite out of the class. Tim unfortunately has to go to work so they talk to Dick to get acquainted until the tour has to officially start. 

Los tres amigos are the only ones who pay attention to Dick at all (he leads the tour bc he’s been there the longest but Damian throws in a comment here or there mostly related to shenanigans his family has gotten into but overall useful facts. for example these windows are reinforced because our CEO (Tim) leaned up against one, fell asleep and fell through the window to the office below.)

The rest of the class is focused on Lila who is talking a whole bunch of nonsense about the Wayne family and how she has helped them with their business. Some things actually sound kinda legit, but Mari and Co. know that it is BS. Dick tries to bet bustier involved but she makes an excuse for Lila and goes on her phone and doesn’t really pay attention. 

Eventually the class tour turns into Dick talking to Mari, Chloe and Kagami while the class vaguely follows them. Damian doesn’t really say anything because he generally doesn’t do well talking to strangers and these girls seem ok and he is still insecure (not that he would ever admit it to anyone ) about social interaction now that he has figured out how people who weren’t raised as assassins act. That is until Dick starts talking about shenanigans that his brothers get into, and Damian jumps in correcting him because  I did not try to tackle Todd, Grayson I did tackle Todd quite successful and also Alfred won’t let you into the kitchen anymore because you almost burned down the east wing of the manor not  because he is territorial over the kitchen. And Mari hadn’t really paid attention to Damian until now but OH MY KAWAMI he is hot, and how did she talk so long to notice that. 

She ends up taking a pic of Damian without him noticing (he really doesn’t notice which is a feat in itself but Dick does and he will  be teasing Damian about it later bc obviously) and she texts it to Luka bc if she is going to freak out over his hotness she wants Luka to do so too. ( he sees the pic in the middle of recording and he ends up needing a water break bc gay panic and he really is extremely handsome. Recording gets delayed even longer bc jagged cannot pass up the opportunity to tease him son and he does so mercilessly and Mari totally knew what she was doing when she sent that picture) Luka ends up demanding that she gets Damians number or he will because that man is fine.  

Mari now knows that the stuttering idolization that she had with Adrien wasn’t really healthy and Luka likes to remind her all the time that she can be smooth when she wants to be (sometimes unintentionally but she practices on Luka because she loves to see him blush). Mari then makes it her mission to compliment Damian as much as possible so that it is crystal clear and very obvious that she is flirting with him. If he even shows a little discomfort in a negative I don’t like this kind of way she will stop because she will not make someone go through what she went through with Chat Noir and unwanted advances.

Chloe, Kagami and Dick immediately notice that she is flirting with Damian. Chloe takes a video for Luka bc she knows that he would want to see this and Dick takes a video for the Batfam gc. 

Just to be clear Mari and Luka have talked about seeing other people and maybe adding a third person to their relationship as long as they talk about it. that line of communication was opened when Mari sent a pic of Damian to Luka and when Luka asked for his number that was his “go ahead” for her to flirt with Damian. Lila doesn’t understand how that works and neither do the rest of the class so that is a point of contention between the class and Mari. She would NEVER cheat on Luka, she loves him and he is the most important person to her in the world. Something that Juleka understands (she just doesn’t like Mari bc of Lila she knows how polyamory works this is why her and Luka aren't as close as they used to be)

Moving on... the batfam gc blows up for a second time that day and so when the class goes to the cafeteria Tim just has to see this for himself. Mari tries not to be obnoxious in her flirting so she compliments Damians intelligence by asking him questions that weren't included in the tour, and she asks him about his interests and is like that must have taken a lot of time to perfect you must be very dedicated. Damian isn’t used to genuine compliments especially from strangers so he is very flustered by it but he makes no indication for her to stop. 

The day winds down and the class has some free time before they have to go to dinner but the do have to leave the tower. Mari does actually get Damians number (he thinks she must be very well trained to get his number that quick bc he refuses to accept that he gave it to her because he likes her) Mari promises to ft him later bc he promised to let her meet his dog and she doesn’t want to wait until the class has dinner at the manor to see Titus.

First Here Next

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@dood-space

@toodaloo-kangaroo

Also I’m not very sure about how to go back and edit posts to link new parts so if anyone knows how to do that please comment or message me because I would love to learn!

[f1-disaster-bi]

Oh yes! The ESC week is finally here! So…because this topic is one of great importance: Did you already look up this year‘s entries or are you waiting for the live performances? (If yes, which are your favourites?) Are you watching everything or only the finale? And finally, what do you love most about the ESC and what does annoy every year? 💚

It is! I absolutely forgot about it until like last week or the week before!

I have listened to this years entries but I haven't watched any performances for them! I've just listened to the Spotify playlist of all of them! I like having an idea of the songs and then waiting to see what they do with staging and performance on the night!

So far I really enjoyed Norway's, Netherland's, Sweden's, Germany's, Czech Rrepublic's and Denmark's songs. There's a lot of good slow songs this year that I think will have some cool staging, and an increase in bands which is fantastic to see!

I will be watching everything but I won't see the semi-finals live because I'm on the night shift this week. So I'm going to record them and watch them when I get in from work! But I will be watching the finals live on BBC for Graham Norton's coverage!

I just love the music and the insanity of it all. You never know what someone is going to do on that stage. It's always fantastic and I just love getting caught up in the songs. I also enjoy texting my dear @asstonne-martin and our other friend about it

I guess what annoys me is when some contest/winners get all uppity about the whole thing. I hate when they complain about it not being 'serious' enough. It's the Eurovision. Yes it's a song contest but it's meant to be dramatic and fun and fucking bonkers

[whocalledhimannux]

@peregrer the What. 👀👀👀 *insert John Mulaney gif of "say more right now"*

ok so when I say "the extent to which I've fleshed out the QT GBBO AU in my head is getting to be embarrassing," I truly and deeply mean it, please enjoy 1,900 words of utter ridiculousness.

first, our competitors:

Legarus - performs so poorly that viewers are a bit confused how he got on the show in the first place, a la Jamie (series 10) or that one guy who made a lime and chocolate cake in the first week.

Chloe - nice flavors and good ideas for decorations, but pretty sloppy. was up for elimination in the first week but came back with a great showstopper.

Melheret - good but not as good as he thinks he is (hence his bread week elimination because of sloppy technique), heavy-handed with the alcohol flavoring

Agape - solid competitor, not flashy but tasty + pretty results. I haven't worked out exact week-by-week themes (that would indeed be Too Much) but I imagine this is something like "Dairy" or "Caramel" or "Vegan," some particular element she just happens to not be strong on. viewers are disappointed by her early elimination

Teleus - Dad contestant. brings in a bunch of weird pans and gadgets he made up himself, does pretty well until it comes to Fiddly Foreign Foods he doesn't know (probably eliminated in French or Patisserie week)

Laela - typically has good flavors and pretty designs but technical knowledge is a bit lacking, so there are usually some flaws in the execution and she's often in the bottom half of technicals

Phresine - Grandma contestant. nails the classics but ultimately isn't creative enough to make it further.

Magus - the "Ian (series 6)" flavor of Dad contestant, often brings in foraged ingredients or eggs from his own chickens or whatnot and revives old recipes/flavor combinations no one else knows about. one week, some of those turn out to just be too weird, leading to his elimination.

Sophos - pretty elaborate decorations and good flavors (on the border of classic and new), but he tends to try a million different embellishments on everything and struggles with timing, occasionally to the detriment of technique.

Kamet - always has really interesting and different flavors and tends to do well in technicals especially, assuming he doesn't get overwhelmed. which is... an assumption (Finalist)

Costis - leans towards classic and indulgent flavors, although sometimes a bit sloppy--the kind of contestant where the judges look at his dishes and say "it's a bit of a mess" and then Paul Hollywood starts laughing because it still tastes delicious (Finalist)

Irene - absolutely stunning visually, queen of the technicals, occasionally gets the "style over substance" warning (Winner)

more details below the cut

I've gone back and forth on whether Eugenides should be in it but ultimately I decided no because I wanted to maintain a pre-show relationship between Laela + Kamet (I thought otherwise at first but then I realized I hadn't left Kamet any longterm friends or family for his finalist video and that's depressing af) and Irene and Sophos which to my knowledge hasn't happened once on the show so far? so having a married couple on top of that seems like it would be a stretch, and also then I think I'd need to make Eugenides the winner on principle and you know what? he can stand to be second fiddle to his wife for a little bit. My alternate backstory for him is that he was actually the winner of MasterChef one year (good with knives), so in the first episode Irene's first little chat to camera is something like "my husband's been bugging me for years to try out and I keep telling him he's got a skewed perspective on cooking competitions, finally I applied just to shut him up... and here we are." Her little video introduction is about how baking is a stress relief from her bigshot job. Her decorations tend to be abstract and gorgeous rather than cutesy.

Kamet, likewise, was nagged into applying by Laela, but she very cleverly framed it as she wanted to apply and wanted him to do it to for moral support. both were confident the other would get in and surprised that they did themselves. This is one of those series where everyone's friendships are immediate and obvious and super adorable (cast of series 10 my beloved...), and in particular these two are holding hands in episode 1. Laela's deep blue robe from TaT sticks in my head for whatever reason so I imagine her making an elaborate blue peacock cake or something one week that wins her star baker. somebody always does a peacock something and it's always impressiev.

Phresine is cool as a cucumber under pressure, always has lovely things to say about everyone else's bakes, and is the go-to last-minute helper because she usually comes in under the time. Irene starts out similar but as the weeks go by she starts to feel the pressure a bit more and cuts it a bit close. Sophos is the worst on timings, and mentions his wife at least once an episode. (I also played with him being single on the show and meeting Helen later through Irene and Eugenides, but this idea is too cute to pass up tbh.) Teleus lives with Relius, a fact that isn't mentioned until a few weeks in when he comments that Relius likes a recipe or gave him an idea for a flavor or something (Relius does not bake himself but will happily sample practice bakes), to the surprised delight of every viewer whose favorite contestant is the oldest gay in any given series (me, me, that person is me).

Costis tends to use a lot of chocolate and, as I said, pretty "classic" flavors--one of those people who makes a full English savory bake at some point. He's usually in the top half of the competition but doesn't get the top until one of the later weeks in the competition, which is a Honey themed week, and he absolutely nails it. The delicate decorations of his honey nut cakes and his use of honeycomb are particularly praised and that's the week he gets star baker. One of those bakers who flirts with elimination the first few weeks but noticeably improves over the course of the show.

My most, like, plot-y ideas are about Kamet (SHOCKER). I imagine he was born in Setra (I usually make Setra a non-autonomous region in my AUs) but arrived in Britain as a child due to [Unspecified Crisis] and ended up with foster dad Jeffa, who was roughly from the same region but not Setra itself; whenever Kamet wanted Setran food as a kid, Jeffa would take him to the library to find recipes and that was what sparked his love of baking. He's well-read on the subject and knows about foods from a lot of different cultures, so he's usually heard of the technical challenges even if he hasn't made or eaten them. He does a lot of fusion flavors, and is ALL ABOUT bread week.

I don't usually make the his-relationship-with-Nahuseresh-is-romantic leap in modern AUs but I think it works for this one because of the nature of the format--Nahuseresh doesn't actually appear on camera but is alluded to once or twice, ends up being Very Displeased that Kamet is doing something for himself, and during the week following Laela's elimination they have the fight that makes Kamet realizes this is actually a terrible relationship and he needs to leave now. He calls Laela to let her know what's up and mentions that, since he'll need to stay in a motel and has presumbly lost his job as a secretary (yeah working for your boyfriend is Bad, he's realized that now), he's going to have to drop out of the show. Laela, despite living in a studio flat without room to host him, immediately thinks "um fuck that" and calls Costis, and within an hour Costis and Aris and a few rugby buddies have moved all of Kamet's things into Costis and Aris's flat, where Costis insists that he'll squeeze into Aris's room (they've shared before, it's fine) and that Kamet gets first dibs on the kitchen for all bake off practices.

None of them actually reveal any of this to the show's producers. Kamet gets a little overwhelmed the following week and nearly walks away from the tent, but Costis jumps in to keep his bake from being ruined, and some soothing words from Irene + the hosts calm him down and he returns to finish. The only mention of the Drama comes in the finale, during the longer video clips they do on each of the contestants. Kamet is deliberately vague about the details of the situation, but Aris shows up in both Costis's and Kamet's videos and references the fact that having TWO flatmates in the bake off is a bit difficult because they only have a standard size kitchen, so he hasn't cooked for himself in a month and has been living off cake and savory breads. one of the hosts talks to Kamet in the tent after that clip is shown and he still won't talk about it in more detail, but says that he wanted to tell people so they could appreciate why Costis hasn't practiced as much the last few weeks (the judges scolded him for winging it a couple of times), and admits that he totally copied some of Costis's techniques for honey week based on watching him at home.

I imagine the finale task is something like an illusion cake--probably with a bunch of additional required elements because the show has been going bonkers with the finale showstoppers in the newer seasons--and Irene wins with a jewelry box containing, among other things, ruby earrings made out of candy. Kamet does a stepwell, and Costis does something architectural (I was thinking castle but something visibly Greek-ish so maybe a temple or a megaron? idk). Irene wins but they're all BFFs and that's obvious, so everyone's delighted for her. The little montage at the end reveals that Irene + Gen are expecting twins, that everybody hangs out all the time, and that Costis + co recently helped Kamet move into his own flat where he's now working on a novel (Immakuk and Ennikar inspired, obvi, leaning heavily on the honey-shared-on-the-road thing and including some recipes that actually work in the narration, albeit still written in an ancient-novel-like-way).

[Obviously not part of the show, but when Kamet mentions that it's time for him to look for his own place, Costis tries to v awkwardly invite him to stay forever and Kamet is like "nope I've got to try this on my own but yes we will go on a date once I've moved out and see how it goes from there."]

[This is so far beyond the scope of the show but also several of them go on to have more baking-related careers and have active social media presences and at one point they're all hanging out and Eugenides pulls out a camera and demands they all produce baking pick-up lines. Teleus refuses and also doesn't believe anyone knows baking pick-up lines off the top of their head or could make them up on the spot. Sophos sort of proves him right by coming up with "you're the apple of my pie," which Eugenides instantly mocks because Sophos's three greatest loves are baking, Helen, and poetry, and that's the best he can do? Helen comes up with "I like my cake the way I like my men--rich, sweet, and bright red," to which Sophos blushes on cue. Irene's is "when I'm with you, I feel like chocolate heated to 50 degrees--I struggle to maintain my temper." Eugenides protests this is more like an anti-pickup line. Irene insists this is the most accurate marriage-related baking pun anyone could ever come up with.

[Laela's is "You and I are like custard--I hope we never split." Kamet's is "You remind me of bread, because I knead you." Costis freezes for a minute and finally comes up with "Fancy a cream horn?" which produces a lot of giggling and makes Kamet slap his arm in such a way that, hen Eugenides posts this video to instagram, fans of the show all go WAIT ARE THEY DATING NOW] [by this point, yes they are] [I didn't even have to google baking pickup lines for this, guys, I legit came up with them on my own, please clap.]

am I obsessed? I might be obsessed

[residentraccoon]

My personal ESC winners (2021-2010)

And not just a regular winner post cuz I'll include all of my winners. Oooohhhhh

As if I don't talk too much already lmao. Just wanted to list all of my faves of every single year bcs I freaking love ESC and talking about it.

• 2021: Måneskin - Zitti e buoni (Italy) 🇮🇹

What can I say? These guys are awesome and totally rad, they had a great fuckign show and their energy is super chaotic, if this isn't perfect then idk what it is. And Italy just really deserved to win after having so many good songs but never scoring past 2nd place. Props to them <3

My runner up: Voila (France) 🇫🇷

• 2020: The Roop - On fire (Lithuania) 🇱🇹

Oh how I love quirky out of the box entries, they were my absolute favorites and I was so sad they didn't get to be on stage anymore because of illustrious covid19 :) Another country who underperforms, and they had a real chance that year to score Lithuania's best result since 2006. F in chat.

My runner up: Repondez-moi (Switzerland) 🇨🇭

• 2019: KEiiNO - Spirit in the sky (Norway) 🇳🇴

Yeah, I said it before a bajillion times and won't elaborate more, when I first heard this song I immediately got out of depression and my life had a new meaning. Plus I really love Keiino and their personalities, been following them since 2019 until now. Long story short, love them so much, and I'm still happy for their televote win.

My runner up: Arcade (Netherlands) 🇳🇱

• 2018: Studio version: Yianna Terzi - Oniro Mou (Greece) 🇬🇷; Live version: DoReDos- My lucky day (Moldova) 🇲🇩

Oh what do we have here? Not one but two winners? Yeah, can't believe either. Greece would be my pick, only the studio version. It's just so beautiful and ethnic, very soulful and divine. A real tragedy this didn't live up to the live version, it came off as empty and underwhelming...

Moldova would be my 2nd pick. Just like the other fans, I didn't like this when it first came out, because I thought it sounded like a typical wedding cheap trash song also known in my country as muzică lăutărească, which in my opinion back then should stay away from this contest because it brings a bad rep to our countries. Yep, what the hell, me. But as soon as I saw the stage show and the magical wall, it won me, and grew on me every single time I watched that video of their live performance. Geezus, can Moldova teach us to elevate our entries with amazing live performances? It would help us so much. Thx in advance bros.

• 2017: Joci Papai - Origo (Hungary) 🇭🇺

Me, a Romanian tm having a Hungarian winner should be illegal (/j), but holy shit, this was a true winner's performance for me. Still, I love it as much as Yodel it, but in terms of stage performance and emotional delivery, this wins. Heck, I love that dancer (which is also Joci's wife, how cute <3 ) and the background design. This is perfect.

My runner up: Yodel it (Romania) 🇷🇴

• 2016: Iveta Mukuchyan - Lovewave (Armenia) 🇦🇲

What a genius stage show. Great effects, wonderful build-up, amazing vocals. This song was killing the stage, and I knew it will be my fave since I've first listened to the lineup of 2016. The violin in the bridge gives me chills every time.

My runner up: If love was a crime (Bulgaria)

• 2015: Loïc Nottet - Rythm Inside (Belgium) 🇧🇪

I'm a certified Loïc fan, tell me how can he sing so well laying on the ground. Like oml, that whole performance was a-fucking-mazing and flawless. Also his expressions give me life 😂

My runner up: Goodbye to yesterday (Estonia) 🇪🇪

• 2014: Sanna Nielsen - Undo (Sweden) 🇸🇪

Want to make me cry a Niagara? Play this song at any given time. Also the crowd singing along with her...powerful 😭

My runner up: Hunter of stars (Switzerland) 🇨🇭

• 2013: Emmelie de Forest - Only Teardrops (Denmark) 🇩🇰

Beautiful flute song, this is so soothing to listen to. The clear winner of that year for me. Nothing else to add more 🧡

My runner up: I feed you my love (Norway) 🇸🇯

• 2012: Loreen - Euphoria (Sweden) 🇸🇪

A classic 👏👏👏 the choreography, the vocals, the synthpop sound, it's amazing. The thing is that it kind of grew off me in the past year, like I listened to this so many times lmao 😅 I still love it but I don't feel to praise it as much as I did once. Still an undeniable icon of this contest for sure.

My runner up: Crno I Belo (North Macedonia) 🇲🇰

• 2011: Raphael Gualazzi - Madness of love (Italy) 🇮🇹

Yes I know I said in the 2011 top that Germany was my winner but I take that back, I love both equally but if I really have to choose, I have to give the win to Italy, because this song really is the definition of madness. Love this wacky artistic feel it has. This should have totally won that year, and it was so close 😭😭

My runner up: Taken by a stranger (Germany) 🇩🇪

• 2010: Paula Seling & Ovi - Playing with fire (Romania) 🇷🇴

Chaotic king and queen of Romania, and a total icon of ours at this contest. I cannot not love the piano for two and power vocals. My absolute winner, even if it's my own country. Idc. Forget the Lena vs Manga war, I'm team Romania all the way. 🔥

My runner up: We could be the same (Turkey) 🇹🇷

[theladyofdeath]

City of Starlight {1}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses & Throne of Glass Crossover, Modern AU fanfiction.

Based on a prompt sent in for the 5k follower contest {winner}, from Anonymous: “Competitive arts school tog x acotar crossover”

Summary:  Velaris School of the Arts is the most prestigious school of talent on the continent. Whoever wants to be someone wants to get in. As her senior year of high school is coming to an end, all Aelin Galathynius wants is to go to the city of starlight and play music. Feyre Archeron, however, longs to paint for the rich and famous. Painters, singers, dancers, actors, and filmmakers come together in friendship, love, and lust, and find that they have a lot more in common than they thought.

A/N: Shoutout to @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ for writing chapter one with me! Ugh, I’m so excited to write this story, y’all don’t even know. Read, enjoy, & let me know what you think!

Warnings: language

Links:

Fanfic Masterlist

Ask me ANYTHING!

City of Starlight {ACOTAR/TOG crossover}

> Characters Detail Sheet <

Aelin and Aedion stepped out into the late afternoon sun. The drive had taken a little bit longer than intended, but that was only because they stopped to sight-see anything that sounded interesting, including the world’s largest pumpkin. Although ginormous, it was rotted and horrible, but there had been a sign just before the exit and they couldn’t resist. It was also at that exit that they stopped by a little hole-in-the-wall bakery and Aelin got two dozen chocolate donuts.

She’d eaten nearly half of them between there and the entrance of the city.

Velaris was beautiful, just as Aelin suspected it would be, but she really couldn’t wait until nightfall to see the famous starlight. They had a few hours before that, though, which meant that they had to find their apartments. Instead of traditional dorms, since Velaris was a smaller school, they had a huddle of apartments and townhouses. They were all cluttered close together, though, and it was a bit overwhelming trying to decipher which building was which.

“Fuck,” Aedion muttered, looking around the square. They were standing in the middle of four different apartment buildings, all of which looked exactly the same. “What’s your building?”

Aelin dug through her bag to find the envelope with all of her information in it, which took a solid two minutes, and once she opened it up, it took another two to find the right piece of paper.

Aedion just watched her, shaking his head. “How have you made it this far in life being so disorganized?”

She gave him a vulgar gesture as she read, “I’m in building B.” She blinked. “They’re alphabetized?” 

Aedion looked around to find the nearest sign, then groaned. “Well, this is building Q, so if that’s the case, we’re pretty far off. I’m in B, too.”

With a dramatic sigh, Aelin said, “And here I was hoping to finally get some distance from you.”

Aedion nudged her in the ribs before climbing back up behind the wheel of his truck. They rode around for nearly forty-five minutes, slowly, reading every sign they passed with frustration. At one point, they thought they were close, because they came upon building C, only to be met at the next building with a sign that said “Apartment Building L”. Aelin swore it was a test of will - one she definitely didn’t care for.

But, alas, when they finally found Apartment Building B, it was a glorious feeling, and once Aedion pulled into a parking spot, Aelin jumped out of the car and yelled, “Finally!”

She expected Aedion to make a profound exclamation, too, but when she looked over the hood of the car at him, he was looking elsewhere.

On the other side of the courtyard was a girl with long, brown hair, a black tank top, and a pair of ripped skinny jeans. Aedion was staring at her, his lips parted. 

“Aed,” Aelin snapped, voice loud, and he jerked around to meet her gaze. 

After clearing his throat, he muttered an apology and went around back to open the truck bed. He kept glancing across the courtyard every few seconds, though. Aelin wanted to pick on him, but he seemed to be quite smitten and she actually thought it was sweet.

“You should go talk to her,” Aelin said, at last, helping him carry their bags and shit to the sidewalk. 

Aedion shook his head. “I’m too busy helping my cousin move in.”

Aelin rolled her eyes at the excuse as she grabbed a box of pillows and began walking backwards toward the sidewalk, keeping her eyes on Aedion, who was looking over his shoulder, once again. “I’m just saying. I’ve seen that look before, and I- shit!”

Aelin nearly dropped the box as her back ran into a tall, hard body. She quickly turned around to meet the narrowed, green eyes of her acquaintance. 

“Watch where you’re going, freshman,” he warned, his voice low.

Aelin opened her mouth to tell him off, but Aedion must have seen her shift in body language because he was instantly at her back, saying, “It was an accident, calm down.” 

“I’m just saying,” he began, repeating what Aelin had just said, still looking down at her, “that she needs to watch where she’s going. There’s a lot of people around here, and if she’s walking backwards, I won’t be the only person she runs into. The next one may not be so pleasant.” 

Aelin snorted. “This is you being pleasant? Gods.” 

The newcomer’s lips tightened into a straight line as he went to take a step around Aelin, at last. She let him go, but Aedion wasn’t as forgiving. He blocked the silvery-haired stranger’s path and met his hard gaze with one of his own. Aedion was maybe half an inch shorter than he was, a little less broad, but other than that, they were close in stature. In a fight, they would be fairly evenly matched. 

“You owe my cousin an apology,” Aedion said, head cocked slightly to the left.

A light danced in the stranger’s green eyes as he met Aedion with a cocky grin. “You’ve only been here for five minutes and you’re already trying to get your ass kicked?”

“This is ridiculous,” Aelin muttered, stepping in between the two, even though they both stood a head taller than she. “We have shit to get done, knock it off. Unless you want to help us move our shit into 21 and 32, move on with your day.”

The newcomer tensed as he breathed a curse. Then, he looked to Aedion. “You’re in 21? Ashryver?”

Aedion’s hard eyes slid from his cousin’s to the man. “Depends who’s asking.”

“Rowan Whitethorn.” His arms were crossed, clearly not offering a handshake. “I won’t be helping you move, but looks like we’ll be spending a lot of quality time together.”

“Shit,” Aedion breathed.

Rowan turned, his pine green eyes pinning her in place. “And you are?”

Big brother mode kicked in and Aedion grabbed her arm. “None of your concern. Come on, Ace.”

The two began to walk towards the lobby, but Aelin glanced back over her shoulder at Aedion’s surly new roommate. Rowan’s eyes narrowed, as if he were studying her.

With her back straight and her chin held high, Aelin met his stare with one of her own. His shoulders tensed before turning his back to her and walking away. 

“Considering you have way more shit than me,” Aedion began, snapping Aelin back to the present, “why don’t you go see where your room is? I’ll come find you after I find my room and bring my bags in, and I’ll start bringing your stuff up.”

Aelin held a hand over her heart. “What would I ever do without you?”

Aedion blinked. “Everything? Stuff for yourself, for once?” He suggested.

With pursed lips, Aelin shoved him in the shoulder, then he laughed as they took to the stairs. She left him on the second floor before trailing up to the third.

Students were hurrying in and out of every room, the excitement of move in day as strong for the older students as it was for the freshman. As she passed each room, it was like a glimpse into a different world. She could hear instruments being tuned and found people sharing designs on tablets and laptops. She heard clear voices and bass driven beats. She felt like she was home.

She finally found the door marked 32 and took a deep breath. She had been an only child her entire life, Aedion the closest thing to a sibling she’d had, so the idea of having roommates was completely foreign to her. She took a deep breath and sighed, twisting the door knob.

To find that it was...locked.

Aelin glanced down the hall again, on both sides. There wasn’t a single door shut on her floor, save for hers. She assumed she must have been the first of her roommates to arrive.

She dug through her bag until she found the key they’d given her, on a VSOTA lanyard and slid the key into the lock.

She had assumed wrong.

Sprawled out on the couch, tangled in each other’s arms, were two women lost in an intimate embrace, and Aelin was most definitely interrupting.

“Shit, sorry!” She yelled, quickly turning away, attempting to give them privacy while also feeling horribly embarrassed. “I should’ve knocked!”

There was a shuffling on the leather couch then soft laughter flooded into the room.

“Knock?” A light voice said. “It’s your house, if you’re Aelin, which I hope you are, because if you’re not this is a very strange situation.”

Aelin hesitated before slowly turning back around, where she was met with a grin from the young woman with long, blonde hair. She was brushing through it with her fingers when Aelin said, “I suppose that’s one way to break the ice in front of your new roommates, right?”

The blonde’s grin widened. “I’m Mor. This is my girlfriend, Nehemia. I live here, she doesn’t. Our other roommate should be here soon, but I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow!”

Nehemia gave Aelin a gentle smile before pulling her hoodie on over her tank top. Her long braids were pulled back into a low ponytail. “I’m glad you came, actually, brought me back to reality. Elide was expecting me ten minutes ago to help put up flyers for the block party tomorrow night.”

Mor clicked her tongue. “How dare you let me distract you? Elide will have my ass.”

Nehemia chuckled as she kissed Mor on the cheek, then smiled once again at Aelin. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” she smiled.

The door clicked shut behind her and Mor said, “And how is Velaris treating you so far?”

Aelin chuckled and said, “Velaris is kicking my ass. It took us over forty-five minutes to find our building.”

Mor laughed. “Yeah, it can be a bit of a maze sometimes. But you said us? You brought someone?”

Aelin caught the glint in Mor’s rich, brown eyes. “No, no, not like that. I mean, I didn’t bring him. He's studying film, but he’s my cousin. Practically my older brother.”

Mor nodded. “My cousin is here, too, right beneath us.” She stomped a few times for good measure. “Over-protective prick.”

Aelin laughed. “Is it your first year?

“Technically, yes, but I’m from Velaris.” Mor made her way into the kitchen and grabbed a bottled water out of the fridge. “Rhys and Az have been here for two years, so I basically have, too.”

Aelin hesitated.

“Oh, right,” Mor said, after taking a sip from her bottle. “You have no idea who they are. Rhys is the prick, my cousin, and Azriel is the only good one in our group.” She winked as Aelin chuckled. “It’ll all be a lot to take in, but you’ll get used to it. Starting with the party tomorrow night, and the party that follows the party.”

Aelin just nodded, but she wasn’t following at all. Instead of asking more questions, Mor showed Aelin to the two unoccupied bedrooms and Aelin chose the one that looked out at a massive oak tree, the branches within arms reach out the window. Her and Mor made “get-to-know-you” small talk as she waited for Aedion to bring up her belongings.

Aelin wasn’t sure what she was expecting from her roommates, but Mor seemed nice and funny and Aelin assumed they wouldn’t have any problems.

She couldn’t say the same for Aedion, though.

Rowan Whitethorn seemed like a serious piece of work.

~~

Feyre sat in Rhysand’s lap with her arms around his neck in the middle of the quad, Cassian and Azriel sprawled out on the grass beside them. 

“This is it, then?” Cassian asked. “And here I thought we’d actually have to work our asses off at this beautiful institution.”

Azriel opened his eyes just to roll them. “Classes haven’t started yet, idiot.”

“Call me idiot one more time,” Cassian muttered, but he was grinning.

Feyre just shook her head before turning her face back to Rhysand’s, planting her mouth on his. 

Cassian said, “Must you? Get a fucking room, gods.” Rhys lifted his foot where it laid near Cassian’s head and kicked him. He mumbled, “Prick”.

Feyre laughed. “Speaking of rooms, I do have one of my own now.”

“Should we go test out the bed, darling?” Rhysand’s violet eyes were brilliant  in the August sun as he smirked.

“That’s not what I was suggesting, but maybe, later,” she said, with a wink.

Cassian and Azriel groaned. Az had never been so happier than the day that Feyre received her acceptance letter to VSOTA. It meant she’d have her own place, and he wouldn't have to hear she and Rhys until all hours of the night. No wonder their roommate hated them.

“I should go check on my sisters though,” she sighed. “Nesta is all the way across campus now.”

Cassian muttered, “Good.”

Feyre shot him a look, but she didn’t blame him. He and Nesta had a drunken one night stand at a party in high school, when he was a sophomore and she was a senior, and after that every time the two ran into one another it was...tense, to say the least. 

“It’s been years,” Azriel said, his eyes still closed. “You two should get the fuck over it.”

Cassian's brow lifted as he looked sideways at Azriel. “Damn. What's up your ass?”

“He’s just pissed because Whitethorn drank one of his beers this morning,” Rhysand chimed.

Feyre scrunched her nose. “I never understood how people can drink beer when they’re not already drunk. The taste is awful.”

But Azriel was throwing his hands in the air. “They’re hard to find and I specifically told everyone to keep their hands off!”

“If you’d drink regular beer like the rest of us, you wouldn’t have this problem,” Cassian said. “And if you two would have requested me as your roommate like you were supposed to, you’d have one less person tell not to drink your Cafe Coco Coffee stout or whatever the fuck.”

“You didn’t turn in your registration until after the semester ended! It’s hard to request someone who isn’t a student.” Azriel laid back down and closed his eyes again. “And it's an IPA called Coffee Del. If you’re gonna make fun of me, at least do it right.”

“Sounds gross either way,” Cassian mumbled.

Feyre was laughing uncontrollably. “My gods, I never knew you were so boujee, Az.”

The side of Azriel’s lips quirked upward. “I’m heading to Elain’s in a little bit to help put together her bookshelf, if you wanna go with me.”

“I can do that,” Feyre said, “as long as Nesta’s not there, we haven’t spoken in a year and I don’t plan to start today. To do that, I will need beer in me, and not Azriel’s fancy shit, but the crap kind that tastes like junk but gets you real drunk, real fast.”

Rhysand just shook his head, slowly. “You’re so sexy.”

Feyre’s grin widened as she took his face into her hands and pulled his mouth back against hers. Cassian groaned as Azriel took off his beanie and threw it at them.

“Fuck off,” Rhysand muttered, against Feyre’s lips. “And I’m keeping your hat, so thank you.” 

Azriel chuckled quietly as he closed his eyes, once again. Cassian stood up and announced his departure. “I have to go meet my roommates.”

He was in the building across from the others, which he had made sure they all knew he was pissed about. After pulling the sheet of wadded up paper out of his pocket, he read, “Fenrys, Lorcan, and Dorian.” He stared at the paper for another minute before sighing, dramatically. “You two assholes have fun with your new roommates while I go make new friends.”

“Your dramatic ass should have gone into acting, Cass,” Rhysand said, his arm around Feyre’s waist tightening. 

Cassian just grinned as he shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking backwards, away from the center of the quad. “I would have, but I was gifted with the voice of an angel.”

“You’re no angel,” Feyre muttered, and he held his middle finger up high as he turned his back to them and walked away.

“Fuck,” Azriel breathed. “Now I have to watch you two suck each other’s faces alone.”

And that’s exactly what they did.

———

Nesta Archeron fell onto the couch, having finally carried her last bag up from the car. She deserved the chilled glass of wine she was going to pour herself, just as soon as she could breathe again.

The door opened and Amren groaned as she carried a tub towards her bedroom. “Why exactly do we have to move during the hottest season of the year?”

“I say you and I just buy a little house in the city so that we can stay there year round,” Nesta said, slowly making her way toward the fridge. “And then we wouldn’t have to have any other roommates, either.”

Their previous roommate had graduated the year before, so a new one had been appointed to them, one that Nesta was dreading to be in the same room as, much less living alongside her. She didn’t know Manon Blackbeak all that well, but the dancer certainly had a reputation. 

Amren knew her a little bit. They’d had a few classes together, both being dancers at the same school for a few years now, but the two had never really talked.

When Nesta and Amren found out that Manon would be their new roommate, they debated on leaving VSOTA altogether and moving to the other side of the country, but no, they had worked too hard to get where they were, and they wouldn’t let Manon ruin their ongoing success. 

“You know, you could help me,” Amren scowled.

Nesta shrugged as she popped the cork from her wine bottle and filled a glass. “That’s your last tub, you’ve got it.”

Leaving the door open, Amren rolled her eyes as she pushed the tote into her room before going back to the living room and falling down on the couch. “Just pour me a glass and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal.” Nesta poured a second glass before re-corking the bottle, returning it to the fridge and carrying the glasses to the other room. She handed Amren a glass and sat in the oversized chair in the corner.

“It’s the least you could do after you took the good room, you bitch,” Amren muttered, the glass to her lips.

Nesta scoffed and threw her a vulgar gesture. “I wasn’t up all night at Varian’s.”

“I’d hope not,” Amren smirked. “Since we were up all night fucking.”

A throat was cleared from the open doorway and Nesta and Amren turned to find Manon standing there with a leather messenger back over her shoulder. “Hey.”

Nesta’s oncoming good mood was instantly fading. “Blackbeak.”

Neither Nesta or Amren moved to welcome their new roommate, but Manon didn’t seem to mind. She walked through the open door, her chin held high. “Which room is mine? I assume you’ve already chosen, given how comfortable and smug you look.”

Amren nodded to the door in the corner. 

“Thanks,” Manon muttered, and began to walk that direction.

“Wait,” Nesta said, taking a long sip from her glass before setting it on the side table and rising to her feet. “Since you’re being forced to live with us, there’s a few ground rules.” 

Manon snorted, but faced Nesta, nonetheless. “Fine.”

“First of all,” Nesta began, slowly walking to where Manon stood in the middle of the room. “If you decide to have a late night booty call, let us know. We have no interest in sharing the breakfast table with whatever fuckboy warms your bed that night.”

Manon lifted a perfectly sculpted brow. “Fair. And second?”

“Keep your space clean,” Nesta went on, stopping a good foot away from where Manon stood. “I don’t do well with messes.”

Manon sighed, looking at her long, black-painted nails, seemingly bored. “I’m not a fucking slob, shouldn’t be an issue. Anything else?”

Nesta looked over her shoulder at Amren, who was watching them both with a deadly, feline smile.

“We hear you got kicked out of your last apartment for being a bitch,” Nesta went on, at last. “So, keep to yourself as much as possible and realize that the school assigned you to live here, we didn’t ask for it.”

Nesta wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she was going to get, but it certainly wasn’t the grin that spread across Manon’s lips. She surely wasn’t expecting Manon to close the distance between them and get up in her face. Her voice was low, amused, when she said, “I don’t mind keeping to myself, because I came here to dance, not to make friends with bitches like you.” 

———

Setting her phone down on top of the stack of flyers, Elide flipped her head upside down and gathered her hair into a messy bun. Being a member of the student council, she’d been on campus for over a week. While everyone else was moving in, she’d been mingling, giving tours, helping new students and, currently, putting up and handing out flyers for the block party she’d been planning for two months.

And, gods, it was so hot.

She picked her flyers up, tucking them against her chest. She’d already hit the East and South sides of campus. Nehemia, though she was late and Elide had given her a look which she blushed at, was heading to the North side. She decided to get to West campus through the Quad, where most students today were gathering.

As she crossed campus, many people she knew called out to Elide. She was waving to one of the girls she’d taken Geology with the year before when she ran into a wall.

Which turned out to be a rock solid chest of muscles.

Her flyers flew from her arms and Elide swore under her breath.

She was  immediately down on her hands and knees, trying to gather the flyers before the breeze took them away. When it was clear the wall she’d run into wasn’t going to help, her eyes snapped up to meet the one and only Lorcan Salvaterre’s.

She didn’t know Lorcan, at least not well, only by reputation. He was a loner, kept mostly to himself. Some say he did jail time before he began at VSOTA, in high school, and looking at him now, Elide didn’t doubt it.

He was just staring at her when she scoffed, “Mind giving me a hand?” 

“Here, I’ll help.” Elide looked over her shoulder to find Cassian, a freshman who she had met a few days before and had instantly clicked with, hurrying to where she knelt in the grass. Cassian leaned down to help, but not before giving Lorcan a distasteful look. “Fuck, you knock her down and don’t help her out? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t knock her down, she ran into me.” Elide could have sworn a snarl left Lorcan’s lips, but he did squat down and begin helping the two of them scoop the papers up. Once they had gathered what hadn’t blown away, he stood and held the stack out. “Maybe she should look where she’s going.”

Elide snatched the stack back and narrowed her eyes at him.

Lorcan’s expression didn’t change as he reached and took the flyer from the top to read it. “The block party? As if that’s the party people will be at that night.”

She took it back from him. “It’s before the other party even starts. It’s a way for new students to make friends, not get trashed.”

“Fuck that,” Lorcan mumbled. “It’s a waste of time.”

“How about you keep your negativity to yourself, huh?” Cassian asked, taking a step forward in Lorcan’s direction.

Lorcan blinked, as if just remembering that Cassian was there, too. “Who the hell are you? Is this your little boyfriend?”

The question was directed at Elide, but she didn’t answer. Instead, Cassian said, “I’m the only guy here that knows how to act in front of a woman, apparently.”

Lorcan laughed, loudly and humorlessly. “You may want to watch how you speak in front of me. Haven’t you heard? I’m a criminal.”

Cassian snorted. “Is that your idea of a threat? Pretty weak ass threat to me. I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t care, but Elide doesn’t need your shit, so go do whatever it is criminals do, and leave her alone.”

Lorcan’s shoulders tensed as he asked, “Excuse me?”

Elide was suddenly there, in between the two men. “Let it go, Lorcan. Cassian,” she turned and handed him a flyer. “I’ll see you there?”

He grinned. “I’ll be there.”

Lorcan scoffed, but Elide ignored him. “Anything I can help you with? You’re good?”

“Nope, just headed to D.” He picked up the duffle he’d dropped when he rushed over to help Elide gather her flyers. “Time to meet my roommates.”

Lorcan snorted and said, “Good luck to them.”

Cassian stilled, and looked over to where Lorcan was standing. “Sorry?”

“I’m just saying,” Lorcan mumbled. “I’d hate to be stuck living in an apartment with your ego.”

“You’re a dick,” Cassian said, voice low. 

“Do you really think that’s the worst insult I’ve ever gotten?” Lorcan asked, then took a look at Elide. “You going to let your little boyfriend insult me like that?”

Cassian was anything but little. In fact, he and Lorcan were pretty evenly matched. 

“Leave Elide alone,” Cassian warned. “Seriously, stop talking to her like that-.”

“Or what?” Lorcan interrupted, humored. “I’m sure her little interaction with me has been the most excitement she’s had this week in her perfect little world.”

Elide wanted to tell them both to just walk away, but Cassian was pissed now, could see it in the way he clenched his fists at his side, could see it in the way the vein in his neck popped. 

“How the hell did you get into this school?” Cassian asked, his voice low. “You fuck your way to the top?”

“I don’t think you want to do this,” Lorcan breathed. “My face doesn’t have to be pretty. I’m sure yours does.”

Cassian’s jaw ticked and he tilted his head to the side. “That’s sweet. You think I’m pretty.”

Elide froze and she swallowed. Everyone had heard stories about Lorcan. Everyone but Cassian, it seemed.

“What’s your name?” He breathed.

Cassian very casually tied his hair back in a short knot at the back of his head. “Why? You wanna follow my instagram? It’s pretty impressive, I’ve got about nine-hundred followers.”

“I won’t beat the ass of someone who’s name I don’t know.”

Cassian’s lips pursed. Elide watched the wheels in Cassian's head turning. Lorcan’s pride may not have let him kick the ass of someone who’s name he didn’t know, but apparently Cassian held no such reservations.

Elide wanted to scream at him, to call Cassian Nazari the world's biggest idiot, because he crossed the space between he and Lorcan, swinging his fist and knocking Lorcan Salvaterre square in the jaw.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 6

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tulipa clusiana ~ A delicate tulip that resembles a pale star, shining in the indigo expanse of the night.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

You coughed.

Actually... coughed.

A sound had been pressed from your slightly agape mouth. While Levi would have preferred it to be words or an utterance of consciousness, he would take what he could get. He didn’t know if it was pathetic that his heart swelled with happiness at the occurrence.

“That’s it, my Y/N.” He praised and stroked your cheek affectionately.

“Oma-” Levi yelled, his call rising in strength as the newfound name left his lips. A harsh clanking followed by rapid footfalls against the stairs brought your grandmother into the room with Felicia hot on her heels. Her chest fell with heavy breaths and her housekeeper looked as if she was prepping herself to slay a dragon.

“She coughed.” Levi stated. He allowed a rare unfiltered grin to spread across his features. Oma looked from him to you and soon her alarm blended into a smile of her own.

“Maria, Rose, and Shina boy you almost gave me heart palpitations.” Oma grumbled but the warm look never left her face as she padded over to you. She held her hand above your mouth and felt the steady breaths on her skin.

“That’s such good news!” Felicia said with clasped hands.

“Indeed. Her body is slowly regaining some normality.”

Oma lovingly gave your hair a few strokes before turning to Levi. She gave him an unusually sweet grin and he grimaced at the strangeness of it.

“You should smile more. It suits you.” She mused smugly. The upturned corners of Levi’s mouth comically went slack at her comment.

“Come have some tea with me. Felicia won’t let me in that damned kitchen without pecking at my ear. So we’ve been banished to the living room.” She added with a flick of her wrist. Levi gave you one final glance and followed her down the stairs. When the two of them had reached the main hallway, a rapid thudding from the front yard stopped them in their tracks.

“Oh, it better not be that goddamned wolf again.” Oma hissed and reached for her shotgun. With disregard for her slipper clad feet she stormed out onto the porch. Levi jogged out behind her, almost bumping into her as she undid the safety on her gun.

“Wait!” Levi shouted and preemptively put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from cocking her weapon. She halted with his grip but raised the barrel of her shotgun to her eye.

“Damn, It’s that cursed horse.” She sighed and put the safety back on her weapon, propping it up along the siding of the house with a frustrated movement.

Your horse was absolutely deflowering whatever poor tulip that fell under his hooves. He would gallop in one direction, head swinging and tail cutting through the wind, only to playfully buck up and then zoom away in the opposite direction. His obsidian coat absolutely contrasted with the flourish of bright colors that nipped at his hooves. It was the most Levi had seen him run freely in his life, and to be honest it was kinda beautiful. He had no fences to confine him or HQ pastures to deprive him of this endless botanical ocean. The creature that he saw before him now was a world away from the sad one he took care of yesterday. And Levi was at least glad for that.

“Well how the fuck did he get out? Did you forget to lock the stall door?” Oma seethed, waving her hands in frustration and hobbling down the porch steps. She looped around to the side of the house, where tethering poles were located and grabbed halter and lead rope to catch him with.

“I did lock it but that never stops him.” Levi exhaled, absorbing her well-earned anger as he followed closely behind her. She mumbled sweet nothings about humane euthanasia and turning him loose to be a wild horse until she stopped at the edge of her field.

Noticing he had company, your horse slowed his aggressive drifting to a halt and watched the two attentively. His nostrils flared with his excited breathing and the three beings held a staring contest within the gentle chroma of petals. Taking his stillness as an invitation to come get him, Oma carefully trudged between the rows of flowers. However, she did not get far, for when she got within a reasonable distance he suddenly snorted and skittered to the side, destroying even more of the crop.

Oma snarled and began stomping over more aggressively while being mindful to step around her moneymakers. For every one step she took in his direction, your horse trotted about four feet away and stopped, as if taunting her to come in further and destroy even more plants.

Levi watched nervously from the main path. He decided it was time to jump into action when Oma managed to get within range of looping the lead rope and halter around his neck. Your horse suddenly delivered a powerful kick that if she hadn’t deftly dodged would have clocked her right in the ribs. Oma cursed in simmering frustration.

“Stop, you’ll get hurt!” Levi called, mindfully stepping through the field and grabbing one of her arms to stop her from advancing. “Let me try.”

He gave Oma a determined look to which she grumbled and surrendered him the halter. Levi approached the animal calmly to only be met with the same snotty behavior. He closed his eyes in annoyance and heard your giggle ring through his mind.

He loves it when you talk to him, see?

“You don’t have to freak out stupid.” Levi told your horse, noting the nervous giddy in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I called you a little shit yesterday, Puddle.” Levi continued through monotone gentleness and advanced slowly. Oma shook her head in disbelief.

“Am I watching a play about a princess right now? Are you going to start talking to the flowers next?” She huffed. Levi shot her an icy glare over his shoulder. Puddle snorted and eyed Oma as if in response.

“Apologize.” Levi turned to her with his default blandness. It was time Levi got back at her for all her incessant teasing.

“...Pardon?” She spat. “You think that bastard will comprehend?”

“Y/N says he understands what she is saying so; apologize. He won’t let me catch him until you say you’re sorry.” Levi was trying to hold back a smile and Oma’s perturbed features.

“Believe me, no one thinks it's more ridiculous than me.” Levi added.

“Maria, Rose, and Sina fuck me.” She mumbled before standing her ground, unamused.

“I’m sorry I was rude to you..uh-what did you just call him?” Oma started.

“Puddle.” Levi stated.

“Why does that name sound so familiar?” Oma furrowed her brow in thought.

“She named him after her pet frog.”

Oma exhaled and shook her head once more.

“Puddle.”

His ears perked up at the mention of his name. Levi eased himself closer and there were no more protests from Puddle besides a few anxious paws at the dirt.

“I hope he didn’t cause too much damage.” Levi sighed as he reached up to buckle the halter around Puddle’s head.

“Not significantly, just more weeding for me now.” Oma chuckled dryly. She fell into step with Levi when he exited the field.

“Of all things why did she choose such a cutesy name for a warhorse?” Oma wondered aloud. Levi almost laughed at the memory her question drudged up.

“She received him when she graduated from the cadets. It was rainy that day. When he was brought out to her, he immediately laid down and rolled in a muddy puddle. The brat got all dirty and she laughed when he shook mud on everyone.”

The smile that graced Oma’s lips held as much vibrancy as her flower crop. That kind of look seemed to take over her features every time you were mentioned.

“Put him in the pasture instead of the stall, he can tear up my grass to his heart’s content.” Oma instructed when they got to the front yard. Levi nodded in confirmation.

“And meet me inside after, Felicia should be done with dinner by now.”

Levi let out an exhale that puffed his cheeks as he stood in the yard for a moment, gathering his bearings. He looked over to Puddle who was munching away on the grass, acting as if he hadn't a care in his life.

"You're always going to be a pain in my ass huh?" Levi mused aloud as he jerked on the lead rope.

↞♞♘↠

Another droplet of sweat slinked its way down the side of your face as you heaved yourself up from the dirt.

“Good job Armin!” You praised the boy who gasped for air. “Your technique is improving.”

“It doesn’t feel like it. I still lost.” He laughed nervously as he graciously took your hand and let you pull him up from where he laid on the ground. You clicked your tongue in disapproval.

“In sparring matches it doesn’t matter who ‘wins’, it just matters if you improve your skills. The true winner is the one who comes out of whatever situation you are faced with alive.” You assured, boosting his confidence with an encouraging smile.

“Thanks, Y/N.” He replied with a more confident grin.

“You’ve gotten so philosophical since you became a squad leader.” Jean commented with a hint of snark.

“Someone needs to be the brains of this operation. I’m definitely second to Armin.” You lauded at the shorter boy and he blushed.

“Even I'll admit we’re at the bottom of that totem pole Jean.” Connie snickered and Jean scowled.

“That makes me the brawns then?” Jean questioned rhetorically. You rolled your eyes at his cockiness and Mikasa snorted from her place on the fence.

“You also didn’t beat me in our sparring match.” You countered playfully.

“You just said that winning doesn’t matter.” He quipped back.

“That doesn’t apply to you.” You teased and stuck out your tongue.

Jean was about to counter attack when Sasha butted in.

“Yo, Y/N. Captain Levi and Eren are back.” She said between bites of her fries she had stolen from the leftovers of today’s lunch. She nodded behind you and you turned to see them walking towards your group. Since the incident with Annie and the devastation that befell the special operations squad, Erwin decided to combine the talent of your squad with that of the remaining members of Levi’s squad. Thus you became joint squad leaders. You usually trained all together as one unit but when Levi worked with Eren one on one, you were left with Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, and Sasha. You looked down at your watch.

“It is about time we’re scheduled to be done anyway, see you guys later!” You grinned with another successful sparring session coming to a close. The mob of scouts moved out after they had said their goodbyes, absorbing Eren on their way back to HQ. Levi nodded at the group in a silent address when they passed them.

“Hi.” He greeted when you came to stand in front of him.

“Hey, enjoy the show?” You teased and casually fixed where his collar had blown up haphazardly.

“Mhm. I love watching you kick other people’s asses.” He replied with a hum as he craned his neck to give you better access.

“Someday if you’re lucky, I may even kick yours.” You winked and he huffed.

“You don’t have any plans tonight, right?” He asked, confirming you had the evening open for him. You shook your head.

“Nope, you told me to free up my schedule.” You beamed. Levi smiled softly.

“Good. I have a surprise.” He stated simply. The way your eyes bugged out of your head caused him to chuckle fondly.

Surprise? Levi? This was something rare.

“Follow me.” He instructed with a smug half grin. He led you to the stable where his horse was already tacked. Dandelion, as you had named her after her flaxen coat, had a flannel blanket secured to the back of her saddle framed by saddle bags filled to the brim.

“I couldn’t get him, as usual.” Levi sighed and you giggled in understanding.

“Be right back.” You said with a gentle hand on his arm as you passed. You re-emerged from the pasture a few minutes later with Puddle in tow.

The ride through the forest was blissful. Levi led the way through the lush grove of trees, the warm chroma of the fading sun’s tendrils breaking through the canopy and nuzzling into his dark locks. Your ride took you not too far from headquarters and soon you found yourself face to face with a lovely sight. Before you lay a pond; ducks flapped about in the cattails, crickets harmonized along its edges, and the water sparkled in the waning daylight. You dismounted Puddle with your mouth hung open in awe.

“How did you find this place?” You almost whispered, too enamored with the little cove framed by towering pines. It felt like a secret spot. Your secret spot.

“I was on my way back from one of the outposts and came across it. It’s...nice isn’t it?” Levi explained as he dismounted and began unraveling the blanket. He snuck a peek at your amazed expression and felt himself swell with warmth.

“Yeah, it’s wonderful.”

Levi walked over to the large grassy area and flicked the blanket open and let it fall flat onto the earth.

“How can I help?” You asked, still oblivious to the purpose of this excursion. Not that you were complaining. The inner romantic in you was squealing in delight.

“I’ll do it, go check out the pond for a bit.” He smiled with a nod in the direction of the water. Leaving the horses to graze near the entrance to the clearing you trotted down to the water’s edge. It had been so long since you had been in such a natural space. It reminded you of the big lake in your village where Oma would take you and Jean fishing as kids. You were being lulled into a state of relaxation by the gentle ripples of the water when Levi’s call brought you back to reality.

“Ready.”

When you regrouped with him, the fruit of his actions manifested a grin that was so wide it hurt your cheeks. The blanket was adorned with two plates and a basket full of delicious smelling food. You couldn’t contain your excited grin as Levi patted the spot next to him.

“Did you make this?” You asked in shock as Levi served you grilled salmon and a warm roll.

“Yes.” Levi chuckled at your continued amazement. You took the plate gratefully and smiled when he reached for a thermos you knew had to contain tea.

“By yourself?” You pressed. He side eyed you as he poured you a cup. He blew on it once and passed it over to you.

“I...had some help.” He confessed.

“One of the cooks?” You guessed as you grabbed a fork and napkin from the basket.

“No, surprisingly. Erwin.” Levi stated as he took a sip of the tea. Your eyebrows furrowed in astonishment.

“No fucking way, Erwin cooks?” You chortled. You pictured Levi struggling with the stove and being corrected by Erwin who stood watch over his shoulder. Your happiness was contagious and Levi began laughing too.

“I was shocked too.” He smiled genuinely and hoped you could see how warm you made him feel in moments like these. In all moments, really.

Your meal was enjoyed with your usual playful banter and discussions of your days.

“So what’s the occasion for all of this?” You finally asked when you had both finished eating and tidying up. It wasn’t your anniversary, it wasn’t either of your birthdays. It wasn’t Puddle’s birthday either. (Yes, you indeed celebrated that.) Levi cleared his throat in response. His cheeks were dusted with the faintest of roses. His uncharacteristic bashfulness had you practically vibrating with anticipation.

“It’s uh, the day that you first told me you loved me.” Levi declared with a tenderness to his tone that he rarely expressed. Your heart threatened to burst from your chest as it filled past its brim with pure affection.

“You remembered the date?” You asked, tears welling at your eyes at the touching confession. You remembered the time as vividly as if it had happened yesterday but not the numerics of the day.

Levi nodded and brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. The devotion that burned from every essence of his being radiated onto you with such a heat you would have surely melted into pure love without his hands holding you.

“Y/N, I know I’m the king of shit when it comes to expressing my emotions. But if there is one thing I want to be good at expressing, it's my love for you.” He professed with a passionate kiss to just under your jaw.

“I want to make sure you know how enough you make me feel, how much life you have breathed into me.” He continued, his voice straight out of a confectionary. He reached up to kiss your forehead.

“I can’t think of myself without thinking about you. I’ll save the self depreciation because I don’t want you to hit me.” He smirked and you huffed happily through your incoming tears. His kisses trailed to your cheeks, effectively curbing the salty stream.

“I’m working on saying it more. You make me feel loved every moment of my life and I need you to feel that way too.” He stated with velvety purpose. This time his lips touched upon yours and you molded into his embrace as if you were two droplets of water from the nearby pond.

“Levi…” You exhaled between kisses, too overcome with emotion to say anything other than his name. For his name was the source of your greatest happiness and you cradled it close to you always. He took the opportunity of your speech to slip his tongue between your parted lips. You moaned at the closeness as Levi gently pushed you back onto the blanket.

“I love you, Y/N. Infinitely.” He whispered to affirm all he had confessed previously. His eyes held yours with such a desperate desire that you equally matched.

“And I love you, Levi. Always.” You returned. Your wandering touch down his torso transferred thousands of unspoken professions of love into his being. When he pressed his body down to yours, you swam in his palpable admiration.

Soon your pleasurable shrieks were spilling from your throat with the sporadic intensity of firecrackers. With every deep thrust, the fuse lit, exploded, and relit again, sending you into an endless loop of ecstasy. Levi’s next thrust hit you in just the right spot to spark electricity and you let out a passionate moan that echoed off the trees. You yelped and moved to cover your mouth, only Levi was quicker. Walls forbid a patrol heard you.

He pinned your hands over your head as he continued to move against you. Removing his mouth from your neck, he regarded you with lustful intensity. His pupils were dilated and locked onto your blissfully contorted features with eyelids heavy with raw pleasure. His lips were swollen from endowing you with praise and it was enough to send a jolt of arousal coursing through your figure.

“Don’t. I want to hear you. We’re far enough away that only I’ll hear your sounds.” He cooed just before a husky moan parted his lips as the roll of his hips grew more fluid. You obeyed his wish and blessed his ears with another erotic cry as his hands smoothly traced down your neck, over your breasts, down your sides, and came to squeeze at your hips. The grasp gave him more leverage and you felt yourself seeing stars when you bucked your hips to match his movements.

“Levi I’m close-”

“Fuck, Y/N. Me too-” Levi groaned, the pleading tone you used to speak his name sending him over the edge. As the wave of his orgasm crashed into him, he was so mesmerized in the way your back arched into his hips, the way your hands feverishly grasped at the fabric of the blanket, and the way your supple breasts bounced with every pump, that he almost forgot to pull out.

What happened in the next moment, though, made that choice for him. A resounding thud at his side ceased his movements and he pulled out of you in alarm. You both whipped your head in the direction of the intrusion. Before you could even register what was going on, Puddle rammed Levi in the torso with his head and sent him stumbling backwards.

“Levi!” You squeaked and scrambled to get between him and your raging horse. Holding your hands out in front of Puddle, you stood protectively over Levi who was still recovering from the sudden flight.

“Hey, hey! I’m fine. See?” You gently called to him. He stamped his hooves a few times anxiously before falling under your calming aura.

“I’m fine sweet boy.” You assured and reached out to take his head in your hands and stroke his nose. Hearing Levi curse under his breath behind you, you tried to contain your laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

“Are you alright, Levi?” You asked with a guilty bite of your lip. He glared up at you and your puffed cheeks from stifling your amusement. He was only annoyed for a moment before the two of you cracked up in unison. He shook his head and got up.

“Yeah. He just knocked me over.” Levi replied, his irritation washing away the moment he regarded your curves accentuated by the caress of the moon’s rays. Levi rose and moved to your side. When he got within proximity of his hand ghosting the curve of your lower back, Puddle pinned his ears and snorted. Levi jerked his hand back.

“Oh fuck you, horse.” He spat and glared at the animal. You giggled once more and tethered Puddle to a tree next to Dandelion. A shiver raked your body at the loss of Levi’s vigorous body heat as you padded back over to your love nest.

“You better be fucking me, captain.” You ordered with a viscous sweetness that slid right down Levi’s throat. You lied down on the blanket with your legs pressed together. You shimmied your hips in a sinful rotation that had Levi twitching with arousal at your forefront request.

“It’s unfair you got to cum and I didn’t.” You pouted suggestively.

“It is poor manners to leave anything unfinished. But I have another idea.” He purred. The ethereal view you had of your lover from this angle made you gasp. The puff of air that left your lips released all the boldness you had mere seconds ago into the atmosphere. Heat bloomed on your cheeks at the view that convinced you for a split second you had to have been in a painting. The indigo twilight bathed him in a pale argent aura that only elevated the silver shine of his eyes as they regarded you as if you were the only living being within these walls, within the world itself. He wore the light of the moon as a cloak that kissed his muscles and ivory skin. He was like a fallen star that had just tumbled into your lap.

From your lap, Levi gingerly spread your legs. He spared one more cautious glance towards your horse before nipping at your plush thighs. Where he bit, he followed with an open mouthed kiss that felt like you were being touched by the wing of a butterfly. While his kisses were extraordinarily soft, his hands were not so. They pawed at the flesh of your upper thighs and journeyed to your ass to squeeze. The combination of pressures was driving you insane .

“Levi-” You whined when his hot breath tickled the top of your core. He flicked his eyes up to meet your wonton expression. His charged gaze stayed cemented to you as he dipped down to languidly lick your wetness. When he tasted your sweetness, Levi let out a syrupy moan that vibrated against your clit and reignited the fireworks. Your thighs squeezed together in euphoria, locking his head in place. Your excited spasm delved his tongue into your slick opening and stole any coherent thought from you. He momentarily broke from his ministrations, rising from you with lips glossy with your juices. He licked them tantalizingly slow and you whimpered at the loss of contact.

“Don’t worry, princess, because of our interruption we are just getting started.” He hummed in satisfaction before diving right back into your intoxicating taste.