#altair inside scoop

[computer-cryptid]

Ghost (of 7th St.)

// bug imagery (??) lots of moths!!

WOOO COLLAGE TIME !!! i made this piece based off of a roar song i love very dearly!! because the lyrics really reminded me of my favorite oc… HAHAHA, i’m proud of it though!

here’s altair ^__^ the circus ringleader (and nerd) who’s blindly devoted to the stars 🌟

[aquagirl1978]

Hiya can i request Rio + kisses #19 + fluff is fine but it can also be spicy ? :DD TYSM AHHH CONGRATS TO THE MILESTONE 💃🏻💗

Thank you for the request...Rio just had a birthday the other day, so here's a belated birthday story for him.

Let Them Eat Cake - Rio Ortiz x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

Pairing: Rio Ortiz x Reader

Prompt: whispers while kissing

Warnings: fluff with the tiniest hints of spice at the end

“Argh!!!!”  

You screamed into the void that was the empty kitchen you were standing in. How on Earth did Yves make baking look so simple? 

Pastry bag in hand, you were writing – correction, attempting to write – “Happy Birthday Rio” onto the cake you just frosted. It might look more like “Mappy Birfday Rio” but it was getting late, and this would just have to do. Grabbing another pastry bag, you swirled some frosting that from a distance resembled a rose of some sorts. This will just have to do, you told yourself, praying that the cake inside would at least be tasty.  

Later that evening, you found yourself stretched out on Rio’s bed, with Rio across from you and the birthday cake between you. 

“Thank you for the cake, Emma,” Rio said, scooping another forkful into his mouth, his love for the treat evident on his smiling face. “Are you sure you don’t want another piece?” 

You shook your head. “No, but...” Rio looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. “I wouldn’t mind one more bite?” 

He leaned over to you, his words a whisper in your ear. “You just want me to feed you.” 

“Maybe?” There was a mischievous twinkle in your eye. 

Always your faithful servant, Rio was more than happy to oblige your request. He brushed a kiss on your lips; the sweetness from the cake he just ate still fresh on his lips. “Anything for you.” 

After piling the fork with cake, he brought the utensil to your lips. But instead of sliding it into your open lips, he brushed the cake against the tip of your nose. 

“Rio!!!”  

“Oops, my bad. It seems you have a little frosting on your nose. Let me help you with that.” You sat still while Rio kissed the tip of your nose, licking the frosting clean off your skin. He then fed you, his gaze intent on your mouth as you ate the cake. 

After swallowing the bite of cake, you grabbed Rio by his collar, pulling him close to you. Taking him by surprise, you kissed him. “Rio...” Your voice was breathless in between kisses. “Put the cake away, okay?” 

The cake sat undisturbed for the remainder of the evening as you celebrated Rio’s birthday well into the late hour. 

Tagging: @alixennial @atelier-maroron @redheadkittys @rhodolitesrose @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @devildomwritersposts @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @ikehoe @altairring @lordsisterxotome @lucyw260 @violettduchess

[skybird13]

Fair Game Drabble - Cold

This one goes to @theonceoverthinker​ who sent me this cheeky prompt:

So yes, for those of you asking in my inbox, I am still doing drabbles. My turnaround rate is just slow as shit at the moment, lol. But keep sending in your requests and I will get to all of them as soon as I can. 

This one turned out differently than I expected but hopefully, you all still enjoy!

Story under the cut.

Prompt: Cold

Qrow maintained his distance while the landing crew loaded the crates onto the transport. His Semblance had been manageable enough for this particular mission but no point tempting fate. Especially with an airship packed full of volatile Dust about to take off. If there was ever a freak accident waiting to happen, this would be it.

He tried to keep his attention on the tundra. Even in this flat snow-encrusted wasteland, a Grimm might pop out of a hole in the ground and catch them off guard. Maybe. But his eyes invariably drifted back to the airship. Or, more accurately, back to Clover. 

Clover, who was lifting the last of the crates into the transport by himself. 

Clover, whose arms Qrow was not staring at. 

Clover fucking Ebi, who he still couldn’t quite figure out.

Clover set the final container inside the airship and then turned to him and gestured inside. There was a small space left amidst all the crates, big enough for one person to stand in comfortably. Or two if they stood very, very close.

“Do you want to go back now?” he asked. “It will be a tight fit, but I don’t mind.”

Anyone who didn’t know what to look for would have missed it: the slight drop in Clover’s voice, the way his easy smile became edged with something… more. Of all the things Qrow didn’t understand about him, at least that wasn’t much of a riddle.

Qrow snorted and shook his head. “That thing is begging for a technical malfunction. Trust me, you don’t want me in it.”

Clover shrugged as if that was the answer he had been expecting and reached inside to grab a small pack from one of the bench compartments. He called in to tell the pilots to go ahead, then turned and slammed his fist against the side of the airship and grinned at him as the door slid obediently back into place. 

Qrow rolled his eyes. Gods, he was obnoxious. And attractive. Obnoxiously attractive.

Clover moved back and gave the pilots the all-clear signal, and the ship lifted into the air and swiveled back towards the golden glow of Mantle and Atlas to the south, leaving them to the unique silence of the Solitas wilderness. 

“Our transport should be about twenty minutes out,” Clover said as he rejoined him. He dug into the pack and pulled out a small military-grade space heater, and set it in the snow between them, turned towards Qrow. A soft wave of warm air wrapped around his legs almost immediately. 

Qrow hummed and shifted a little closer to it. He tilted his head back and released a deliberate breath into the night air, where it fogged against the smattering of stars that peeked through a hole in the clouds.  

“No rush,” he said.

Clover smirked. “You’re really not a fan of the city, are you?”

Qrow shrugged. “Nothing against them, really. But dense populations and I usually don’t mix well.”

“Because of your Semblance?”

He nodded absently and they lapsed into a familiar, comfortable silence, only… this one felt different somehow. Almost anticipatory. Clover stood on the opposite side of the space-heater with his arms crossed loosely over his chest. He was making a show of not looking at him, gaze drifting across the tundra or up into the sky as if he thought the transport might have caught a lucky microburst that cut their travel time down by ninety percent. He looked… a little too content. Qrow kept his expression neutral and watched him in his periphery. Two could play that game. 

Whatever the hell the game was.

Long minutes passed. After a bit, his focus became split between trying to figure out what Clover was trying to do and cursing the fact that, while the space heater was doing wonder for his legs, it only increased his awareness of the frigid air against his upper body. He pulled his hands from his pockets and wiggled his fingers to increase the blood flow. His body demanded more but he flat-out refused to dance around from foot-to-foot like a child, especially when he still didn’t know what his partner was playing at.  

He glared down at the space heater. Why the hell didn’t these things have a more upward flow? Fat load of good it would do to keep his legs warm if the rest of him froze above the waist. The gesture had been sweet and all but now he was beginning to wonder if…

Qrow spun on him. “You absolute bastard.”

Clover broke into a loud, full-bodied laugh. The sound spread out across the tundra and might have been contagious if it hadn’t been coming from the world’s biggest asshole. 

“I’m sorry,” Clover said, the words staggered around his laughter. “I didn’t think it would make it that much worse.”

“No, you’re not,” Qrow snapped. “And yes, you did.”

Clover couldn’t even muster up enough control to deny it a second time. He doubled over and clutched at his stomach, struggling to breathe. On impulse, Qrow bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and lobbed it at his stupid, perfect face. Clover dodged half-heartedly and some of it landed, powdering in his hair and melting on his skin to drip down the front of his shirt. Which only pissed Qrow off more. 

He jammed his freezing hands under his arms and scowled, shuffling away from the space heater out of sheer spite. “Ass.”

“Okay, wait, I’m sorry,” Clover said. 

He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded like he thought he was the funniest person alive. But he picked up the space heater and fiddled with it, then moved over to him and set it back down. This time, the heat swept over Qrow’s entire body and it took everything in him not to groan. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at Clover, which had no impact whatsoever on his smug grin.

“You’re a dick, Ebi.”

“And you’re stubborn,” Clover said. “I was starting to think I’d have to thaw you out in the transport.”

Qrow bit the inside of his cheek and gave him the most murderous glare he could conjure. Why the hell was he fighting off a smile? What sort of bizarre effect did this man have on him? 

Clover’s expression softened in real apology and he reached for Qrow’s hands and drew them gently into his own. Holding Qrow’s gaze, he lifted them to his mouth and breathed against his fingers, close enough that lips brushed sensitive skin.

A small, strained laugh came from the back of Qrow’s throat and he shook his head.

Clover blew another hot breath against his hands and raised his eyebrows in a look of such exaggerated mock innocence, he almost came full circle to obscene. “Something funny?”

“I can’t tell if you think you’re being subtle or if you really don’t give a shit.”

Clover laughed again and this time the warmth of it pressed into Qrow through his fingertips. He released his hands and retreated to the pack, returning with a heavy woolen blanket that he shook out and threw around Qrow’s shoulders. He helped situate it and then very lightly dragged his thumb along the underside of Qrow’s jaw. 

“For better or worse, subtlety has never been my strong suit,” he said. “Not with this, anyway. But if you’re lodging a complaint, I can try to be a little more mysterious.”

He winked but his smile this time was warm and open, all pretenses dropped. Even the soldier’s mask fell away. And for a breathtaking moment only Clover Ebi stood in front of him, the person Qrow had been trying to see for the past several weeks bare and undisguised. He was... stunning.

Shit, Qrow thought. I am so screwed.

Later, he would blame what happened next on that gravitational pull he had felt from the day they had worked the SDC mine mission together. Qrow closed the distance between them and threw one half of the blanket over Clover, then leaned against him, experimenting, curious. He hadn’t done this in a very long time. Clover stood stiff for half a heartbeat. Surprised, hopefully. Confused would be even better. Let him feel thrown for a change. Then warm hands settled gently on Qrow’s back and pulled him closer.

He laid his head on Clover’s shoulder, nose barely brushing the side of his neck, and let himself settle into his arms.

“Never really been a fan of mystery,” he said.

End

--------------------------------------

In my head, Clover and Qrow are totally one of those couples who enjoy pulling shit on each other now and then. They’re not quite together yet here, but the interest is known and mutual. So, Jenna, you can take this as the very first time Clover helps Qrow get warm (after being a bit of a brat about it). 

So there you have it!

I’m going to try to tackle prompts people send in the order that I receive them, so up next is one from @maracamilkshake​ about game night at the Rose/Xiao-long/Branwen household! I’m excited to play with that one. 

Note, I might post some shorter things I take upon myself to write in between prompts people send. It really just depends on where my head is at. But I will get to everything in my inbox so keep those requests coming! 

And finally, if you want to be tagged, just send me a message or comment on this post and I’ll happily add you to the list.

Tagging: @theonceoverthinker​ @solitude-of-stars​ @delta-altair​ @cinnamon-tank​ @xwildangel​

[drabble: #2]

[word count: 1417]

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

Could we get a 3) sleeping and 7) kissing for Altair? Or shay...either one. Please? I'm not sure if those have been done yet

(I’ll do you one better - how about both? ;) Oh, and I did do a previous ask that featured a sleeping headcanon for Shay, so feel free to check it out!)

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad:

3. Sleeping Headcanon

When he’s completely and utterly exhausted from a long day, Altaïr sleeps like a log. No amount of nudging or pushing can wake this guy up. Yet when there’s a threat nearby - even a quiet one - he’s immediately awake, practically springing out of bed and already reaching for his weapons to eliminate the trespassers. Of course, though, once the threat is gone, he’s back to sleeping like a rock again.

You still have no idea how he does it.

7. Kissing Headcanon

He likes giving forehead kisses. It’s a subtle gesture of affection, but not less sweet, by any means. It’s also his way of silently communicating to you how he’s feeling at the moment. You can usually tell what kind of mood he’s in by the type of forehead kiss he gives you:

- If it’s a long, lingering one right before he leaves for a particularly dangerous mission, you know that he’s afraid of that tiny percent of a chance that he may not come back, and he wants you to remember how his lips feel against your skin.

- If it’s a quick one that you can barely feel, you know that he’s angry about something and doesn’t want to be bothered at the moment. (If that doesn’t get the point across, then him immediately leaving the room afterwards will.)

- If it’s a bunch of kisses, pressed gently all over your forehead, you know he’s in an affectionate mood. (These kisses will also often be accompanied by soft, repeated “I love yous”.)

- If it’s a series of ones that travel down from your forehead towards you ear and your neck, well…you can quickly figure out what’s on his mind. ;)

Shay Patrick Cormac

3. Sleeping Headcanon

In his younger days (back when he was an assassin), it wasn’t uncommon to see Shay bundled up under a large stack of blankets when it was cold. It was actually a pretty amusing sight for anyone who came in his room to try and wake him up in the morning. (Although it’s a wonder he didn’t accidentally smother himself under all of that heavy fabric.)

Nowadays, even when it’s chilly, he sleeps with far less blankets than he used to. This is mainly because deep down, he’s still afraid that an assassin will try and track him down and take him out for revenge, and he doesn’t want to risk being incapacitated by getting tangled up in a bunch of blankets if one tried to pull a sneak attack on him while he was sleeping.

7. Kissing Headcanon

He’s actually quite fond of kissing your hand. It’s usually in greeting or farewell, but sometimes when you two are in public and he gets the urge to want to have some physical contact with you, he subtly slide his fingers down the inside of your arm and scoops up your hand in his, before bringing it to his lips. Usually, it’s a sweet and loving gesture - however, if he’s feeling aroused and wants to get the point across to you, he’ll give your hand very slow, deliberate kisses and lightly suck on your knuckles while looking at you with lusty, hooded eyes…

…where’s the nearest isolated spot where you two can be alone? I highly doubt either of you can wait to get back to the ship.

(Curious about a headcanon? Send in some numbers!)

[douchebagbrainwaves]

KEEP YOUR NAME

And the reason is that the customer doesn't want what he thinks he wants. That Jobs and Wozniak, for example—you want to do something, you either have to make it, and the third empirically false. We plan to raise a $5 million series A round, because VCs worry there will not be enough stock left to keep the sense of wonder you had about programming at age 14. I learned the trick of speaking fast. What do you say if you've been talking to investors in parallel. Most technology companies eventually get taken over by suits and middle managers. The influence of fashion is not nearly so great in hacking as it is in painting. So why did I spend 6 months working on this stupid idea?

Who can say which of two novels is better? That's where you can win big by taking the bold approach to design, and having users pay them lots of money. What more do they need in order to seem smarter. But Occam's razor suggests the truth is less flattering. I can see why political incorrectness would be a good thing—for example, a pollster asks them their opinion about something like gay marriage, they will probably seem flamingly obvious in retrospect. For better or worse, the just-do-it model fails most dramatically is in our cities—or rather, exurbs. Their houses are in different neighborhoods, or if in the course of 4 days he went from impecunious grad student to millionaire PhD. They can sense totalitarianism approaching from a distance, as animals can sense an approaching thunderstorm. Try talking to everyone you can about the gaps they find in the world. You can also get into Foobar State. When you feel that about an idea you've had while trying to come up with a startup idea in one month, what if they'd chosen a month before the Altair appeared? As far as I can tell, the founders are the ones most likely to get buyer's remorse.

So most hackers will tend to wait until a language has been around for a couple weeks living what is, for people there, just everyday life. The people who are good at generating it. University Ave at the right time, and the paper becomes a proxy for the achievement represented by the software. Classic macros are a real hacker's tool—simple, powerful, and dangerous. But only some of them will; the rest will still be scooping ice cream at Baskin-Robbins. To many people, Lisp is a slow AI language with a lot of money on them. If there were a little guy running around inside the computer executing our programs, he would probably have as long and plaintive a tale to tell about his job as a waiter at his next party.

[ask-agent-stone]

jimbotnik​:

He tried speaking to Finn, only for the child to spring out of his car and run off. Only Chris remained, whoever this bastard really was. Energized by his petty hatred for neither the first nor the last time, Robotnik sat up and reached out, seizing the poor babysitter by the front of his shirt and pulling him closer.

“Do. Not. Step. Out of line,” he snarled. “You’re here to keep Finn happy and comfortable. If Finn isn’t completely satisfied with your treatment of them, then after Stone is done with you, you’ll have me to contend with! And I fight dirty, Chris.”

Finn waved to Robotnik from the porch before disappearing inside the house. In a few seconds the child reappeared in the window waving. One look at Robotnik threatening the sitter and they shook their head. 

“Y-Yeah, I realize that dude.” Chris’ voice deepened as he tried to process what was happening. As far as he knew, this guy was a threat to Finn, Hell the kid had pretty much disappeared, reappeared in this guys car, and bolted when he came out to investigate. Had he just thwarted a kidnapping attempt, had he ju-

“Robotnik let go of him!” Finn shouted from the doorway. “Chris is a good sitter, he plays Ninjago with me!”

“I’ll be telling Altair about this, and while you fight dirty I’m gonna be the one to win jackass.” Chris grabbed Robotniks wrist. “Finn, stay insi-!”

Finn had marched to the side of the car and begun trying to yank both men apart. “Both of you stop, Ivo go meet Lee! Chris get back inside and leave my....Uncle alone!” 

At that Chris released the doctor and yanked his shirt free. Scooping up Finn he stormed back into the house. “Come back around and I’ll call the police!”

“I won’t let him!” Finn yelled back as Chris slammed the door.

Sounds of Finn hunting Robotnik while Altair heads to an Olive Garden.

Robotnik stopped walking. He didn’t turn around, but stood there in the underground parking garage with a smile.

“You’re not subtle.”

[acquiremarketresearch]

Renewable Aviation Fuel Industry: 2019 Global Market Size, Share, Growth, Trends, 11 Company Profiles and 2025 Future Market Analysis

The report firstly introduced the Renewable Aviation Fuel Market basics: definitions, classifications, applications and market overview; product specifications; manufacturing processes; cost structures, raw materials and so on. Then it analyzed the world main region market conditions, including the product price, profit, capacity, production, supply, demand and market growth rate and forecast etc. GET THE INSIDE SCOOP OF THE SAMPLE REPORT @https://www.acquiremarketresearch.com/sample-request/3689/ Companies Profiled in this report includes:  Amyris, LanzaTech, General Biomass, SGB, UOP, Neste, TOTAL, Byogy, Sundrop Fuels, AltAir Fuels, BP, Chevron, Aemetis, REG Synthetic Fuels, Gevo, Terrabon, Envergent, Solazyme, INEOS, DONG Energy. By Algal Biofuel, Plant Biofuel, Others:  Algal Biofuel, Plant Biofuel, Others By Application/ End-user:  Commercial, Defense, Others The research study gives a complete list of all the leading players working in the Global Renewable Aviation Fuel Market. Moreover, the financial status, company profiles, business strategies and policies, along with latest expansions in the worldwide market have been mentioned in the research study. Research objectives • To study and analyze the Global Renewable Aviation Fuel Market size by key regions/countries, product type and application, history data from 2013 to 2019, and forecast to 2025. • To understand the structure of Renewable Aviation Fuel Market by identifying its various sub segments. • Focuses on the key Global Renewable Aviation Fuel Market players, to define, describe and analyze the value, market share, market competition landscape, SWOT analysis and development plans in next few years. • To analyze the Renewable Aviation Fuel Market with respect to individual growth trends, future prospects, and their contribution to the total market. • To share detailed information about the key factors influencing the growth of the market (growth potential, opportunities, drivers, industry-specific challenges and risks). READ DETAILED INDEX OF FULL RESEARCH STUDY AT @ https://www.acquiremarketresearch.com/industry-reports/renewable-aviation-fuel-market/3689/ In this report you will also find additional deals into key geographical segments of Global Renewable Aviation Fuel Market and deliver details about their current and former share. Ongoing trends, upcoming Challenges, future better regional investments and many other influencing factors have been considered and presented. In the end, the report includes Global Renewable Aviation Fuel Market new project SWOT analysis, investment feasibility analysis, investment return analysis, and development analysis. The report also presents a round-up of vulnerabilities which companies operating in the market must avoid in order to enjoy sustainable growth through the course of the forecast period. Fundamentals of Table of Content: 1 Report Overview1.1 Study Scope1.2 Key Market Segments1.3 Players Covered1.4 Market Analysis by Type1.5 Market by Application1.6 Study Objectives1.7 Years Considered. 2 Global Growth Trends2.1 Global Renewable Aviation Fuel Market Size2.2 Renewable Aviation Fuel Growth Trends by Regions2.24 Industry Trends. For more information regarding,Contact Us: https://www.acquiremarketresearch.com/contact-us/ Thanks for reading this article; you can also get individual chapter wise section or region wise report version like North America, Europe or Asia (China, India, Japan etc) or Oceania [Australia and New Zealand].

[ellestrix]

Going Out For Ice Cream: AC Edition

Our Assassin Friends decide to go to the local Baskin-Robbins in order to beat the heat.

Altair: Selects a cake cone of Icing-On-The-Cake, but ends up giving his cone to Jacob. He'd much rather have a nice cold lemonade or some ice water. He's slightly lactose intolerant, so the rest of the day is spent rolling around on the floor complaining about his stomach hurting. Ezio: True to his personality, Ezio grabs a sugar cone of Salty Caramel, and takes it to the nearest jogging track where he eats it without his shirt on, in an effort to pick up cute jogger girls. He's getting interested looks from both guys and girls, because damn does he have a seductive way of eating it. Tips the scooper well by dropping $7 on the counter and telling her to keep the change as he walks out the door. Edward: Opts for Daquiri Ice, not knowing there isn't any alcohol. After sampling some in a little spoon, he opts for a malted vanilla milkshake and slips a decent amount of bourbon into it before heading back to the Marina (where he works) to enjoy his cold drink while looking out at the ocean. Haytham: Without a doubt he goes for Pistachio Almond in a bowl. He considers licking the ice cream beneath him, but secretly he licked his fountain pen at work and has an ink mark on his tongue and is too embarrassed to let anyone see. Insists on paying for Connor's ice cream, because he wants to be a good father and treat his son to something. Connor: Naturally, he gets a waffle cone full of USA Patriot Pop sherbet. He's a little messy about eating it, and his nose turns kind of purple (as does his tongue). He doesn't like it when Haytham tries to wipe his face for him with a wet paper napkin, because it just smears the sticky all over his face. Arno: French Vanilla is the best vanilla to put in a waffle cone. No contest, in his opinion, and he thoroughly enjoys the fresh waffle cone. Pays for both himself and Edward, and takes the cone on a walk around the block. Shay: Just watches, he got a Unicorn Frappuccino from the Starbucks where he works (he's a barista). Laughs at Altair when he has his stomach aches. Jacob: It takes him thirty minutes and eight samples to settle on two flavours for a double-scooped waffle cone. He gets Rocky Road and Oreo Cookies and Cream, and thoroughly enjoys making a mess of it. Somehow, he manages to convince Evie to buy his ice cream for him, and when Altair doesn't like his cone, he "liberates" it for himself. It takes him about three minutes to finish Altair's cake cup of Icing ice cream, and he's left complaining about his killer ice cream headache for several hours after the fact. Evie: Begrudginly pays for Jacob's ice cream, while treating herself to Mint Chocolate Chip in a sugar cone. She takes it slowly, and in moderation she saves herself from an ice cream headache. Stays in the parlor with Jacob, Haytham, Connor, and Altair to eat her cone.

Desmond: Pays for Altair, because Altair forgot his wallet. Goes for a chocolate milkshake, and takes it outside to a small table where he can eat alone and have some relative peace and quiet after waiting 45 minutes for his cone (poor Desmond was last in line). Groans slightly when he sees Altair rolling around on the floor inside, half wishing he had just bought some ice cream from the store and avoided all of this mayhem.

[amusedmuralist]

> Muralist hadn’t had the chance to talk about Troll Oscar Wilde in sweeps, and revelled in it. He was more than happy to field questions about him, even if it meant getting tart about Clorad’s mention of age. “OLDEST AM AS PLAYS UNALTERED HAVE,” he boasted. Maybe now the empress is dead, he could have them put on unaltered. That was a thought for another time, a time where Clorad wasn’t here and he couldn’t threaten to take clorad up on giving him a kiss for every bygone sweep. Counting would diminish kissing time, though, so they simply let it be.

> Clorad’s hive was huge in a different way to GHB’s church hive, decorated to more singular tastes, and not haphazardly expanded on or painted. Taking Clorad’s hand and letting him talk his way through it was a delightful diversion nonetheless.

> Dinner smelt delightful, and Muralist said as much, to the chef and Clorad both, given Clorad’s intent had been to cook. Clorad’s hand squeezed Muralist’s, and Muralist kissed it before Clorad drew it back, reaching for a gift. It was lovely, tastefully embellished, and not at all… loud, or marking in a way possessive.

“gorgeous is, BELOVEDEST,” Muralist said, lifting Clorad’s hand to his lips again. “glad am though that Altair asked.” Horns in his timeline were somewhat sensitive: remotely tightening horn clasps are a horror he’d gladly left behind him. “will gift give when trying on possibility is, CLORAD,” he said as they turned towards the food. Ravioli was the delight before him now, provided by his beloved, who was getting a smooch for entree, too.

> Dessert was clearly on Clorad’s mind, though, and he scrambled to get it with no urging. Muralist would have to try and capture that excellent excitement that danced in Clorad’s eyes sometime, when it came to new and clownish things. It was a pie, in all but name, a stunning tart smeared with both their colours and made with love and care. Muralist applauded almost reflexively.

“BRILLIANTLY DONE!” He shouted, making sure the pie was safe before pulling Clorad into his lap carefully for a kiss. “should it taste now, UNLESS WOULD AS CENTREPIECE HAVE TIL EATING DONE IS.”

> Clorad’s fins flick, and he started to speak, pausing when Muralist planted a kiss right where his jaw and neck met. He swatted Muralist, citing knife safety as being impossibubble in GHB’s lap, especially if he was going to keep distracting him like that. Muralist demurred, sitting back in his chair and letting Clorad cut the tart up into pieces. It was delicious, all the more for the love that went into its making.

“Perfect parts a perfect pair making,” GHB mumbled into Clorad’s neck. Somehow he hadn’t seemed to have moved from Muralist’s lap throughout the consumption of the pie. The dishes sat before them. “SHOULD WE THEM RIGHT MAKE ERE ADJOURN, or for servants leave?” Kurloz asked. Clorad bid him leave them for later, and scooped Grand up, cradling him in his arms as Grand laughed uproariously. It was rare he had a partner able to carry him, and given the difference in their height, they no doubt made quite a pair. He rested his head against Clorad’s shoulder, purring softly.

> It wasn’t long til they reached Clorad’s bedchamber, and Clorad deposited him daintily on the bed, flopping on top of him. “I’m spent, you’ll need to tend to me,” Clorad demanded highhandedly, purring when Kurloz scratched gently at his hornbase. “Also, did you mention another gift? I’m not prying, I just don’t want to forget,” he said, propping himself up a bit.

> Kurloz blushed, his paint not hiding his bright neck and ears. Clorad’s fins pricked up in interest. “If too much is, PLEASE SAY, but—“ Kurloz began, pulling a box from his hair and handing it to Clorad. Inside lay handmade, hand dyed lingerie in a colour that was a perfect match for the flush on the Highblood’s neck. Kurloz untucked his shirt. Unbuttoned, it revealed a garter belt and undies of the same fine craftsmanship, his dyed fuchsia. He met Clorad’s eyes deliberately. “Not too much being?” He asked. He’d wanted Clorad to have his love of pretty things sated at all points, was all.

>Date Night!

[computer-cryptid]

GOOD LOOKIN’ BOY 💫

WOOOO this is actually kinda old by now… BUT IM STILL REALLY PROUD OF IT AHHHH look at my doomed yuri

feast your eyes,,, if you will,,, im gonna post a lot more lore related stuff with them soon but :D their named are callisto and altair and they go through the craziest divorce of the century