#and I was not imaginative about where they're from

[embbarnes]

Just As You Are. | B.B

summary: He tries his best for Valentine's Day.

warnings: Smut | 18+ MDNI | Fluff | CW!Bucky x Fem!reader | Cunnilingus | PiV sex | Light dirty talk | Unprotected sex | Slightly insecure Bucky

a/n: I'm not big into Valentine's Day just because it feels very commercialized to me, but I like imagining it with Bucky. This plot changed so many times lmao but I think I am satisfied with how this turned out. If you're allergic to strawberries, just imagine a different fruit. Not beta read. ;; wc: 4.2k

Bucky stood motionless in the bustling store, his steely eyes fixed with a deep frown upon the endless aisle dedicated to Valentine's Day merchandise.

He didn't remember it being so...big back in the day. The sheer volume of products and options left him feeling completely overwhelmed, his mind drifting back to simpler times when a thoughtful bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolate were considered more than acceptable tokens of affection for your sweetheart.

Now, he watched as frantic shoppers rushed past him, their arms laden with elaborate bouquets, towers of candy boxes, and enormous stuffed bears that seemed to grow more ridiculously sized with each passing year.

There were some shoppers who took a different approach, selecting items for personalized gift baskets filled with practical things like cozy socks or fragrant bath bombs. That seemed more personalized with his old-fashioned sensibilities, but you weren't particularly fond of long soaks in the tub, making that option feel somehow inadequate.

A wave of insecurity washed over him unexpectedly. Despite knowing that you had never once demonstrated materialistic tendencies or pressured him for presents, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he should be showering you with gifts. Traditional values ingrained in him insisted that as the man in the relationship, this was his role to fulfill. His heart warmed slightly at the mental image of you beaming with delight over an armful of fresh flowers or savoring each piece from a velvet-lined, heart-shaped box of premium, ridiculously expensive chocolates.

Truthfully, he felt completely lost about what would be the perfect gift for you. The confident, charming young man he used to be - the one who could effortlessly capture a lady's attention with just a well-timed smile or clever word - seemed like a stranger from another lifetime. These days, the gazes that would drift to him were filled with suspicion and barely concealed hostility.

Defeated and increasingly anxious, Bucky turned away from the crowded store aisle, his mind spinning with uncertainty as he struggled to think of what to get you for this special occasion. As he made his way through the bustling shop, he passed by an enthusiastic florist who was eagerly displaying enormous bouquets of perfectly arranged, vibrant red roses.

The vendor was encouraging every passing customer to purchase one, his sales pitch well-rehearsed and persistent. The sight made Bucky recall a conversation from several months ago, where you had expressed your views on traditional romantic gestures. You explained that while roses were undeniably a sweet and romantic gesture, they felt somewhat predictable and conventional to you. Too ordinary, you had said, preferring instead gifts that showed genuine thought and consideration.

"Sure, roses are beautiful. I think they're a wonderful gift for birthdays or valentine's, whatever. But...I don't know. Everyone gets roses. I would be happy but it would also sort of feel like you didn't really try, since they're so abundant and common. It makes them feel less special. Hopefully that doesn't make me sound snobbish. I'd rather get a more personalized bouquet or...one with my favorite flowers instead." You glanced up at Bucky who was nodding and listening, remembering, for later.

Though the roses were beautiful, their pristine petals catching the store's fluorescent lighting to aid in their deep crimson coloration, Bucky could practically envision the polite but slightly underwhelmed expression that would cross your face if he chose such a common option.

Plus...why were flowers so expensive these days? A dozen roses for almost a hundred dollars? The modern pricing was ridiculous - back in his day, that kind of money could have bought several weeks' worth of groceries. Besides, a lot of the bouquets contained wilted flowers. If he got you a bouquet, each and every flower would be alive and well.

He didn't want to leave without getting you something special, something that would bring a genuine smile to your face. He stood there for several long moments, running his flesh hand through his hair as he considered what kind of gift would truly resonate with you, something that would perfectly balance thoughtfulness with appropriateness while still managing to surprise you.

After spending what felt like hours wandering through the store's aisles and watching other men pick the big red hearts off the shelves without a second thought, he began to carefully examine each heart-shaped box of chocolates, reading every label and ingredient list to ensure he found the exact type of varieties you had mentioned loving. Finally satisfied with a winner, he put it in the basket he grabbed.

Moving through the store, he made his way to the stuffed animal section, where he spent considerable time comparing different plush versions of your favorite animal, wanting to select the one with the perfect expression and the softest fur. That one looked too grumpy, that one looked lopsided, that one wasn’t proportioned right - but he found the perfect one.

Then rather than settling for a pre-arranged bouquet, he thoughtfully handpicked each individual flower, remembering all the times you had pointed out different blooms during your walks together, creating a personalized arrangement that represented all your favorites. Even with the care and attention he put into each gift selection, a nagging feeling of inadequacy crept in - everything he chose, while thoughtful, still felt too ordinary.

Bucky shook his head and paid for the items, ignoring the feeling.

Back at home, he arranged everything perfectly. He individually wrapped each item, positioning them precisely in the basket alongside the plush animal and chocolates. Taking his time with the flowers, he trimmed each stem at exactly the right angle and arranged them in the vase until the composition was just right. When Bucky finally stepped back to assess his work, his heart sank slightly, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

The entire arrangement somehow still didn't feel special or unique enough.

Alpine gracefully leapt onto the counter, her blue eyes focusing intently on the array of gifts laid out. She lowered her head, her pink nose twitching as she investigated each item curiously. "What do you think, girl...good enough?" Bucky asked softly, his fingers running through the ragdoll's silky fur as he gently stroked from her head down along her back.

After her inspection, Alpine cast one final, contemplative glance at the presents. Then, with typical cat-like indifference, she turned away from them, her fluffy tail held high like a banner as she delicately padded across the counter to the edge, and descended to the floor with one smooth leap.

"Bad, huh?" Bucky released a heavy sigh, his eyes lingering on the carefully chosen gifts as waves of uncertainty began to wash over him, his anxiety gradually creeping in and eating away at him.

He didn't have more time to wrestle with his uncertainties as the sound of keys jingling at the front door caught his attention. You made your entrance quicker than he had anticipated, your exhausted form slowly making its way through the doorway after what was clearly an demanding day at work. You kicked off your shoes in a haphazard manner, letting them land wherever they might. The weariness etched across your features told him everything he needed to know about the challenging nature of your workday.

"Hey," Bucky offered in greeting as he made his way over to you in the entryway, his mind racing as he tried to keep you from noticing the carefully prepared gifts just yet. Perhaps if he could buy himself a little more time, he might figure out something better to give you than the basic gifts.

A soft, tired grumble was all you could muster in response, though the gentle warmth in his eyes worked its magic in lifting your spirits considerably. "Hey..." you murmured an actual response, crossing the space between you to wrap your arms around his sturdy frame. He gladly hugged you back, letting you bury yourself against him.

The thought of spending the entire day at home with him had been your secret wish throughout your shift, but responsibilities couldn't be ignored. He had promised to make the evening special, and that thought alone helped you persevere through the long hours of your workday.

Bucky thought fast, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze with those intense steel-blue eyes. "How about a hot bath? I can get one ready for you, make it nice and warm - it'll be perfect for those sore muscles of yours...plus, I know you’ve been on your feet all day." He offered gently, his flesh hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face. A playful smirk slowly spread across his lips as he added, "I could even feed you some fresh strawberries while you relax..."

"Ugh, that sounds so heavenly right now..." You agreed with a soft, appreciative moan, already imagining the soothing warmth of the water and the sweet taste of cool fruit.

Bucky made his way to the bathroom, wanting to create the perfect relaxing atmosphere for you after your long day. He tested the water temperature with his flesh hand until it reached that ideal warmth you always preferred, then clogged the drain.

While the tub filled, he selected your favorite aromatherapy soap, watching as it created billowing clouds of soft, luxurious bubbles that released that soothing scent you loved so much. He also scattered rose petals across the surface - special ones he had purchased with your other gifts. They would slowly dissolve into the water, but for now they created a nice, romantic display as they rested atop the peaks of foam.

In the bedroom, you gradually shed your work uniform, letting each piece fall away with relief before walking into the bathroom to meet him. He remained unaware of your presence for a moment until he turned, and when he did, he took the chance to admire you. Bucky rose up to his full height and approached you, his hands finding their familiar place on your hips. "You're so beautiful, doll..." he murmured, his voice full of affection as he leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek, before adding, "Bath's all ready..."

"It looks perfect," you replied in an equally soft and tired tone, carefully stepping into the steaming bath water and sinking down with a contented moan.

God, it felt absolutely amazing - after countless exhausting days of non-stop work, your muscles were crying out for relief. Your back and neck were especially sore from hunching over your desk for hours on end. The perfectly heated water enveloped your body like a warm hug, melting away the tension and aches that had built up over time. The chosen aromatherapy oils filled the air with a soothing blend of lavender and eucalyptus that relaxed you even further.

"Thank you, Bucky... this is... exactly what I needed," you mumbled appreciatively, slowly sinking lower into the luxurious bath until the fragrant bubble clouds rose around your shoulders like a soft blanket.

Bucky's lip quirked up with a gentle, knowing smile as he reached for a plump strawberry from the delicate pink crystal bowl beside the tub. His eyes sparkled with affection as he held the fruit up teasingly, "Of course doll... now open wide~"

"Tease," you said playfully, leaning for the strawberry he held between his fingers. You gladly accepted the offering, letting your lips brush against the plump, red fruit before taking a delicate bite. The sweetness burst across your tongue as you savored each moment, watching his expression intently. Unable to resist the temptation, you gently caught his finger between your lips, your tongue darting out to taste the lingering juice - a deliberately cheeky move to provoke a reaction.

Bucky's eyes darkened as he watched you, a knowing smile spreading slowly across his face. His fingers twitched slightly at the sensation of your tongue, and he leaned in closer. "Don't start something you can't finish, doll..." he warned in a low, honeyed voice that made you shiver, even in the steaming water. "You know exactly what'll happen. Besides, it's Valentine's Day..." He reached out to trace your jawline with his thumb, his touch feather-light and promising. "...I'll make it all about you..."

You couldn't resist the temptation that coursed through you, causing you to slowly emerge from the water just enough to delicately capture his hand between your teeth and deliver a playful nip. Your lips ghosted across his wrist and laid a kiss, "I think I wanna see what you mean..."

That's how you ended up on the bed with his face between your legs.

Your swollen, sensitive pussy being devoured by the soldier keeping your legs spread open. His tongue flatly lapped at you before he would encase your delicate clit in his lips and desperately suckle. The alternating movements kept you close enough to the brink of orgasm, but he wouldn't let you finish all the way yet.

"Bucky! Pl-please," you cried out desperately as he suctioned to your throbbing clit once more, his skilled tongue working magic against your sensitive bud. Your trembling hands clung tightly to the twisted sheets below your hips, your knuckles turning white from the intensity of your grip. Your cheeks were deeply flushed as tears of pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over.

It felt so fucking good - Bucky always dove into you like a starved man who hadn't tasted such sweetness in decades, you were a fruit from Eden and he wouldn’t stop until he has had all of you.

Which was kind of true, until you two had started dating and everything changed. Over time, he gradually gained the confidence he needed, becoming more and more comfortable with engaging in intimate acts. The hesitation that had once held him back melted away completely, and once that newfound bravado took over, he became a passionate and attentive lover who knew exactly how to make you come undone.

Bucky growled against you, tugging you even closer as he kept his face against your folds and lapped at you repeatedly. His eyes would peek at your expression from time to time, but he mostly kept them closed, purely focusing on your taste. So sweet and delectable, you were his favorite thing to lap up and devour. He never wanted to stop. This was his favorite thing ever. Being the source of your pleasure and hearing how you whined and squirmed underneath him.

"Come for me, baby...come on. Give it to me." He muffled against you as his tongue continued to move up and down with his repetitive licks, getting your juices and making sure to run over that swollen bud.

Fuck, you were. You were going to.

You moaned loudly as waves of pleasure coursed through your body, the tense burning sensation gradually building deep in your belly while your legs trembled uncontrollably. Bucky kept a firm hold on your legs, keeping himself buried in your pussy as he continued his feast. Heat radiated outward as you began to feel your nerves come alive, electric sensations traveling from your core and flowing down through your limbs to the tips of your fingers and toes. The pressure continued mounting until finally, everything began slowly blossoming and unwinding into an overwhelming, desperate climax.

When he pulled away from your folds, his face and dark scruff were thoroughly soaked with your juices. The smug, satisfied bastard slowly licked his lips and began climbing over your shaking body, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses from your sensitive belly all the way up to the crook of your neck. "Y'r so soft...god, I love every inch of you," he whispered in that husky, desire-laden voice as his lips grazed the shell of your ear.

"Bucky..." You whined needily, the desperate tone in your voice betraying just how affected you were, but you couldn't bring yourself to care - you were absolutely burning with desire for him. The delicious scratching sensation of his rough scruff against your skin felt absolutely divine, and you couldn't help but nuzzle your cheek against his strong jaw, seeking more of that friction. Your responsive action drew a knowing smile from Bucky as he pressed his body more firmly against yours, allowing his head to respond to your pressure and reaching his hand down to carefully position himself against you.

"Easy, my beautiful girl...I promise I'll give you everything you want and need. My perfect doll...just lay still for me, just like that...looking so gorgeous spread out underneath me..." He praised in that gentle, soothing voice that you normally adored, but in your current state of desperate arousal, his sweet words only served to turn you on even more. Something about it drove you insane.

When he finally breached you, your body arched off the bed and your hands immediately grabbed onto him, mindful not to claw at his heavily scarred shoulder.

The moan that escaped from between your parted lips was abruptly silenced as he captured your mouth with his own. The lingering taste of your pleasure danced on his tongue as it skillfully glided past your own, delving deeper to thoroughly explore every corner of your mouth. A deep, resonant hum of satisfaction rumbled in the soldier's chest and vibrated against your lips as he pressed into the kiss with mounting intensity, perfectly matching the quickening rhythm of the increasingly passionate snaps his hips made against you.

The gentle slapping that filled the room was drowned out by your cries of unison - the two of you spewing groans and moans of all kinds as his cockhead repeatedly kissed your cervix and coated it with his precum. The gummy walls of your tight cunt continued to squeeze and massage his cock with each little movement you made squirming beneath him and listening to his lower pitched sounds of pleasure.

"Bucky...ah, feels so good...feel so full," you whined and fell back onto the sheets, ignoring the gentle bulge that appeared beneath your skin each time he hilted himself inside you.

"So perfect for me, doll...made for me, made for my cock," he whispered with reverence, his voice thick and heavy. He leaned down, pressing hard, passionate kisses against your neck, which you willingly allowed. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your sensitive skin to him as he skillfully left a trail of bites and gentle purple bruises blooming across your flesh.

Prettier than any of those damned flowers he saw today.

"R'member when I bit all over you... 'round Christmas? I was so lost and confused back then and..nngh...all I knew was you. All I could think about was you. All I ever wanted was you...completely all to myself..." His voice came out rough and broken between desperate grunts as his hips pistoned at an increasingly frantic pace, his movements becoming more urgent with each thrust.

"Ah, yes...I remember it...you were so needy," You gasped breathlessly, a small knowing chuckle escaping your lips as you eagerly took him harder.

"Now look who's being needy...f-feel you squeezing around me so tight..." Bucky hissed through clenched teeth as he pushed even deeper inside you, his thick cock swelling noticeably with his rapidly approaching orgasm.

"Come for me, Buck Buck...I want it inside. Want you to fill me up," You reached up to him, yearning for more, pulling him down closer until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. His silken hair cascaded down like a brilliant curtain, framing his face while he let out pants from slightly parted lips. The cool metal of his hand gripped firmly at the meat of your thigh, his touch both gentle and possessive, chilling the skin beneath it.

Bucky ducked his face down and pressed closer to you, a deep groan tore through his throat as his rapid thrusts finally stilled - you felt his thick member twitching inside you as he coated your pretty velvet walls in his cum. As his orgasm washed over him and made him thrust a few more times for good measure, the overwhelming sensation brought you to yours again.

You both panted, breathing heavily in unison as you relished in the feeling of him still tucked inside you, thick cum oozing out as you let out soft laughs together.

"That was absolutely incredible..." You breathed out in a contented sigh, your voice thick with emotion, "I love you so much..." Your lips tenderly found his in a series of gentle, loving pecks, while your fingers delicately traced patterns across his cheek, savoring the warmth of his skin.

"I love you too, babydoll. And actually, I have something special waiting for you in the kitchen..." He began, his eyes flickering towards the doorway. With a knowing smile, you gently guided his face back to yours, your fingers lingering on his jaw.

"Would that happen to be that beautiful arrangement of flowers and those decadent chocolates I spotted sat next to an adorable plushie?"

"Wait, what? How did you -"

"I saw the setup when you were preparing my bath earlier...sweetheart, you really shouldn't have gone to all this trouble. I feel terrible now." You propped yourself up slightly on your elbows, guilt evident in your voice. "Work has been so hectic lately, I didn't even manage to find time to get you anything..."

He drew you even closer into his warm embrace and gently rolled both of you onto your sides. As his softened length slipped free, you nearly whimpered at the loss of connection, you held the pout back for now. "Doll, you should know by now that I don't need fancy gifts or presents. What matters most to me is having you here, sharing these moments together.” He winked playfully before returning to a more serious tone, “You coming home to me is the greatest gift I could ask for. And you know what? The night's still young - we could curl up together and watch a movie, if you'd like..."

You smiled and nodded, letting out a soft chuckle. "That sounds wonderful, but I really think we should freshen up first...things got pretty messy and you made me feel all sticky." You whispered with a playful lilt in your voice, carefully lifting yourself from the tangled sheets. As you made your way towards the bathroom, your hips swayed flirtatiously, each step a teasing invitation. Pausing at the doorway, you glanced over your shoulder with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "C'mon baby...if you're good, I’ll do that thing you always like..."

His reaction was instantaneous.

Like a coiled spring suddenly released, Bucky leapt from the bed with the same sharp reflexes from his military days - every muscle alert and ready. His blue eyes darkened with desire as a roguish grin spread across his face. "Yes ma'am," he responded, voice husky with anticipation. In two swift strides, he crossed the room and swept you up into his strong arms, making you squeal and laugh with surprise, cradling you against his chest as he carried you eagerly toward the shower.

When your feet touched the cool tile of the bathroom floor, Bucky was already eagerly anticipating another passionate moment together, but you gently placed your hands against his firm chest, causing him to pause. Your eyes met his as you spoke softly but earnestly, "And just so you know, everything you got me was absolutely perfect. I love it all so much. You really shouldn't have gone to all this trouble - just spending the evening together would have been more than enough for me, but...everything you did get makes me feel so special. The arranged bouquet with all those beautiful flowers, the adorable plushie of my favorite animal, and those delicious chocolates...it's all too much. You are perfect."

Bucky felt an overwhelming wave of relief wash over him at your heartfelt words, the tension he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying suddenly melting away. His voice was tender, slightly hesitant as he responded, "O-oh... yeah, of course. I...I really wanted to make tonight special for you in every way possible. I picked all your favorite colors and included those specific flowers you always stop to admire during our walks together...and I made absolutely certain the chocolates only contained ingredients and flavors I know you enjoy...and found you a soft, cuddle buddy to keep you company when I have to be away." He ducked his head slightly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he added with endearing awkwardness, "Besides Alpine, of course."

"Yeah, whenever she's in one of her affectionate moods and decides it's snuggle time," you added with a gentle, warm chuckle, your eyes crinkling at the corners. He swore his heart beat faster each time he saw those delicate lines. "You are enough, Bucky." You gazed deeply into his eyes, taking in every flicker of emotion that passed through them, before offering him a tender, reassuring smile.

Your hand came up to cup his cheek as you leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, feeling the tension slowly melt away from his body as he relaxed against you. Drawing back just enough to meet his gaze again, you whispered to him with absolute conviction so he could feel the words as much as possible.

"You are always enough, and don't you ever doubt that for a second..."

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.

[tarotbyjam24]

messages from your future spouse

Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗

Masterlist \pick a cards

Disclaimer: This is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so🕊️

Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️,shall we ? Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

Pile 1

Anyone who takes the time to be kind is beautiful .

Some people don't change no matter how hard you try.

But we can not simply sit and stare at our wonds forever .

You spread joy because you're joy that's what I admire most about you .

First love teaches us what love isn't .

It's better to feel the hurt of honesty then to live in a false comfort of lie .

The secret of life is to be obsessed with yourself and be kind to everyone around you.

Some days are just heavy .

Everything you lost will be replaced with something better.

Imagine being loved the way you love .

Pile 2

You haven't met the best version of yourself yet don't give up

when you choose yourself everything around you will choose you too

remember you can start again over and over as often as you need

people don't cry because they're weak it's because they've been strong for too long

the little things ? little moments ? they aren't little

perhaps we should learn to love ourselves so loudly , it silences our insecurities

I love seeing you happy

it happened so that you could grow

you will forever be my always

do it for your future self

Pile 3

You can't go back and change the beginning but you can start where you're and change the ending

expect nothing appreciate everything

you can also comit injustice by doing nothing

be patient. Sometimes you've to go through the worst to get best

how many time can the same thing break your heart ? As long as you love it

find joy in simple things life will always be fulfilling

In the end, I realized the hurt never turned to hate. No matter how much my emotions led me to feel so. I never stopped loving people. I stopped trusting them.

The art of observing and not absorbing

Not liking me is fine, but making up lies to destroy my character is weird.

Keep it private until you know it's permanent

Imagine being loved the way you love .

Pile 4

First love teaches us what love isn't .

Discipline is the strongest form of self love .

She's an old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind

people talk about me behind my back and i just sit here like damn i got myself a fan club

It takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations .

Forgive yourself for the mask you wore when you didn't feel safe enough to be yourself

YOU DON'T NEED EVERYONE TO love you, JUST A FEW GOOD PEOPLE

may every hour in your soul be golden, may it be filled with endless magic .

Vibes to carry through out the week

You're not sensitive. You're not overreacting. If it hurts you, it hurts you. Don't let anyone invalidate your feelings. Ever

I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀 Bless you and have a nice day 🫶🏻

Loads of love , jam\gem

Exchanges : open , collabs for paps : open

[rollingeevee]

Since many seemed to really like my last CRK post about the Beast bites, I thought I might keep going and post another CRK thing I had on my brain a bit ago.

Imagine Shadow Milk taking an interest in a Faerie Cookie. Bro is a manipulator. He toys with the minds of others. So imagine him taking the Faerie and... not taking their wings, but- you know how if you excessively touch a butterfly's wing, the butterfly will struggle to fly or won't be able to anymore? Yeah he does that. He loves their wings, the beautiful patterns and the glossy sheen, but he can't have his darling flying away, now can he?

So he takes every chance he can to touch and play with their delicate wings, slowly but surely stripping away their ability to fly with each stroke of his hand, all while masking his enjoyment as innocent fun.

Imagine he's in a really cruel mood and he completely removes all the scales of their wings but puts an illusion over them to make it seem like they're fine and when the Faerie wakes and tries to escape they just end up falling from the Spire bc of their weakened wings no longer being able to carry them and straight back into his arms, where he'll give them a triumphant smirk and remind them that they’re not going anywhere any time soon.

His sweet, silly little butterfly, his arms their gilded cage.

[dammit-tazmuir]

Might I also add... Someone posted a theory a while back I'm not sure I should link bc they turned off both replies and reblogs, but the gist was a proposal that:

Gideon IS Alecto in a sense and Harrow is a reincarnation of Anastasia.

The poem at the beginning of NtN is Anastasia laying Alecto to rest. "This time will be the time we get it right."

Several scattered lines compare Harrow to Anastasia, including one where Augustine phrases it as "You are Anastasia come again."

Among many similarities, Gideon used to have nightmares about being on the wrong side of the locked door.

(And I'll add myself, John and Alecto are collectively The God Who Became Man And The Man Who Became God. They're individuals with their own thoughts and experiences but that (fragment of?) John in Alecto's dream memories knows Harrow. They share a gestalt mega-soul and more, and if Gideon has the god eyes and god powers then despite being a separate entity from Alecto I have to imagine she shares the god soul too.)

REGARDLESS. Reincarnation theory is a bit of a tangent that would make the connection and poem interpretation more likely, but the poem at the beginning could certainly be taken as them either way.

sometimes I see people being confused where alectostasia ship came from so here's a little bit of run down

I'm not really good with words so it might be clunky

what we know from the text

Anastasia tries to achieve 'perfect lyctorhood', something goes wrong during her ascension, John kills Samael, Anastasia fails her attempt

Anastasia moves to the ninth, continues working on the house or only founding it at that time

John asks Anastasia to help build the tomb 'I built that tomb with Anastasia, designed every inch of it.'

somewhere between working on it and Alecto's entombment, Alecto and Anastasia make a vow where Alecto basically swears as a cavalier to her 'Alecto said, I remember my vows. As I swore to Anastasia I swear to you. I am in your service until you bid me the favour, and whatsoever you appoint I shall perform, and consider the vow rendered. This is what I promised, until such a time as you deal with me as you see fit.'

as John leading Alecto to the tomb, she asks to see Anastasia 'She had said, There are almost no beautiful things left. Where is Anastasia? Let me talk to Anastasia.'

presumable Anastasia is the one to inflict to the ninth house importance of keeping her bloodline and worshiping of the tomb through all of those years

Anastasia's bones are in the tomb 'She looked back beyond, and she saw Anastasia, tucked where nobody would find her: Anastasia, all bones. Not really Anastasia. But Anastasia’s body without the meat on it, snuggled right into the curve of the rock, ready to close the door whenever it was opened. She remembered Anastasia.'

Alecto immediately getting chill after tasting Harrow's blood 'The child was silent; but her blood was on Alecto’s lips, and through that blood Alecto was made to understand what it was, and was astonished exceedingly. Alecto put away wrath and said: Thou art the blood of the tomb-keeper.'

Alecto saying sorry for Samael

the implications

the vow on itself is very interesting, at first we all know how usually normal cavalier and necromancer relationships are. then for Alecto to comply to that, indicates she should be pretty trusting of Anastasia, and their relationships at least somehow better than with other lyctors who were terrified of her

then there's also the tombkeeper blood thing, what serves as a check note for Alecto after waking up, and means the initial purpose of the ninth house was actually waiting for rock to roll away

and one part of the vow seems to imply 'if anyone beside a tombkeeper wake you, slay them as they came to hurt you', as could hinted on a protection from other lyctors who wanted to kill Alecto? (Then Alecto remembered the vow, and turned back upon the altar to face the second child and raised the sword with wrath in her heart, for they meant to bring destruction upon her.)

then the matter of Anastasia's bones laying in the tomb next to the rock. not sure if it's just her skeleton or she made herself a some construct mechanism from her bones. and not clear if she got entombed on her own volition or John closed them both there, but being entombed together five feet apart cause we are not gay

there's also some oddness in Alecto immediately after waking saying she's sorry for Samael, but I won't go into that here, anyway Anastasia was trying to find a better way to lyctorhood and I think in her more close relationships with Alecto she figured out something that John wasn't telling them, before or after her ascension

and some theories

I think I first heard this theory from @/mayasaura, that ninth house tradition of telling secrets while submerged in the salt water could've corelate with Anastasia trying to have a talk like that with Alecto since she feels the most at ease in the salt water, so means pool time for alectostasia too

another one that I really like but not sure how much legs it actually would have in canon, one of the reasons Nona was so enamored with her body cause Harrow is a spitting image of Anastasia, first saw @/corvophobia talking about it

coming back to Harrow, could there be anything more to her taking immediate affection to the Body a la some fuckery with Anastasia's spirt/tombkeeper's blood

more people explained it better, I try to reblog most of the theories in my side blog, you can check it out there but some of it explicit just in case

anyway in conclusion, as I keep procrastinating with my work, I don't think they were making out 24/7 in Canaan house in canon but something for sure happened there between them

[frownyalfred]

Your Dick Grayson + Jason Todd fusion idea just makes me think, once they're not in any danger and have got the hang of what they're doing, they're definitely asking Bruce to spar right? I mean, a chance like this doesn't come around often and there's no way they don't take this chance to see if the 2 of them can beat him.

The rest of the batfam, Clark, and Alfred all place bets.

Oh that would be so fascinating to consider. Because while Dick and Jason benefit from the best of both of their physiques and styles, I imagine their weaknesses and/or blind spots are also compounded in a way. And of course, the obvious place to put pressure is where they're still uncertain about being joined. Bruce is a massively skilled fighter, but he's also a strategist first. He'd be evaluating them as soon as they stepped on the mat, looking for ways to make them doubt the other and split their focus. Especially if he'd already been fused with Clark once.

But Dick and Jason also benefit from both their perspectives on Bruce, and both of them would realize this in advance. So while they're working from a less than obvious disadvantage, they also benefit from combined knowledge. And the fact that while they've both fought Bruce before, and Bruce has fought them both before, Bruce hasn't fought this person they are now. So he's learning in real time, while they already know who their opponent is.

I think it would be more evenly matched than people would like. But if Bruce was able to put pressure on the fusion, he'd have an advantage.

[foggieststars]

feed me please.

for you my love... thank you for all of your wonderful art i hope u know how much i appreciate u!!!! pls have some girl charles getting fingered at the FIA gala for your efforts <3

-

Charles doesn't think anything of it at first, when Max's hand brushes against her knee. They're packed in like sardines around this table, and she thinks he's just adjusting his chair, or something.

At first.

They're awarding some of the junior categories right now, fresh-faced F1 hopefuls bumbling their way through grateful speeches. Charles remembers when that was her, looking out across a sea of faces, searching for the F1 drivers, hoping beyond everything that one day it would be her.

And now it is. She made it to F1, she's here to collect her runner-up trophy, and underneath the tablecloth she's got her biggest rival's hand inching steadily up her thigh.

Charles stiffens when Max's hand reaches the hem of her dress. She turns towards him under the guise of a joke, leans in as if she's trying to be heard over the voice of the announcer.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she hisses into Max's ear, smiling when she pulls away. Max's hand tightens around her thigh in response, thumb brushing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. The hair on Charles’ arms stands on end.

“What do you mean?” Max asks, and Charles dares a glance around them. The cameras are focused on the stage for now, thank god, but she knows they’ll be doing a sweep of the tables soon, trying to grab reactions from relevant people. There’s hardly anyone more relevant here than Max. 

“Your girlfriend’s here,” Charles reminds him through clenched teeth, though she doesn’t know where the delightful Eloise has run off to. 

Max shrugs, hand travelling higher, thumb continuing those gloriously broad sweeps of skin. “So’s your boyfriend.” 

Charles hasn’t even seen Louis in half an hour. He’ll be in a corner somewhere, schmoozing with anybody who looks like they might be important. 

Charles can feel her heartbeat loud in her ears, a warmth spreading through her body. Max’s hand doesn’t stop moving, pausing at the very apex of her thigh. 

Anyone could see them like this. Anyone at all. The thought shouldn’t make Charles’ cunt throb. 

“Besides,” Max says, voice low, so as not to catch the attention of Lando, only two seats away and looking terminally bored. “You like this, yes?” 

Charles bites down on her bottom lip, wondering if any of her lipstick will transfer to her teeth. She doesn’t say anything, just blows out a shaky breath when Max’s fingertips move further, searching for something he’s not going to find. 

His fingers still when they reach the damp heat between her thighs. “Are you–” he chokes, a gentle colour rising in his cheeks. 

“You cannot wear underwear with this dress,” she mutters defensively, trying not to hitch her hips up into the barely-there sensation of his fingers. 

Max snorts, shakes his head in disbelief. “Whatever you say.” 

Charles is about to snap something at him, and then his thumb finds her clit. She shuts her mouth so sharply her teeth click together. She has to, otherwise she might scream.

It’s not that sex with her boyfriend is bad, per se - it’s just lacking. In what, Charles doesn’t know. Louis is good with his hands, with his tongue. There’s just no passion. Louis likes candlelit dinners, nights snuggled up on the sofa watching a terrible movie. 

It’s the opposite of the way Max makes her feel. Basically all the two of them have is passion. Charles struggles to imagine Max wanting to go to her mother’s apartment for brunch on a Sunday, taking long walks by the sea. 

As Max grins at her and rolls her clit with his thumb, Charles struggles to remember why that’s supposed to be a bad thing. It must be a bad thing, because otherwise there’d be no reason to keep it such a secret. But with his hand between her legs coaxing pleasure out of her, Charles can’t bring herself to feel even a little bit bad about it. 

“Fuck,” she whispers, aware of the way her face is heating up. Her eyes dart up to the stage, where they’re no longer handing out awards. Instead, it’s the chaos of category change, trophies being carried on and straightened up. The cameras are on the hosts of the event.

Charles slumps down in her seat slightly, creating a gap between her lower back and the seat. It’s uncomfortable, but the access it gives Max to her cunt makes it worth it.  

He takes the opening she’s given him, slides his index finger into her pussy with zero warning. Charles can’t help it; she lets a moan slip free at the sensation. It’s a toe-curling feeling. Fingering doesn’t usually do a whole lot for her on its own, but it’s the context. She’s surrounded by important people, men who could make or break her career with a snap of their fingers, and she’s letting Max finger her in front of them. 

She reaches for the glass in front of her on the table, picks it up with a slightly shaking hand. The water is cool and refreshing, and nowhere near enough to douse the growing fire inside of her.

Max slips another finger in, and Charles jerks in her seat, water spilling down her wrist. Lando raises his eyebrows in her direction, but turns back to talking to his neighbour pretty quickly. 

“Max,” Charles hisses. “You can’t - oh, fuck,” she moans, when his fingers curl inside of her. It’s too much, here, now. 

“I can’t what?” he asks, voice slightly too loud for her liking. “I can do anything I want. You’ll let me do anything to you, won’t you?” 

“Fuck you,” Charles grits out. She takes a deep, steadying breath through her nose. 

Unfortunately, he’s kind of right. Charles does things with Max she’d never dream of letting another guy do to her. She demands a high price in return; she’s pretty sure Max has never let any of his wispy little girlfriends fuck him with a strap-on. There’s nothing she won’t let him do to her, nothing he won’t let her do to him. 

Charles blames this horrible, animalistic thing that lives between their bodies. It’s like a livewire, electrifying and deadly to touch. Most men fall at her feet, but Max makes her crawl. 

His thumb finds her clit again, scissoring his fingers simultaneously. 

Charles bites down on the inside of her cheek so hard her mouth floods with the taste of metal. It’s better than screaming. 

And then, a man’s approaching Max, clapping him on the shoulder. The shoulder attached to the hand that’s currently inside of her. Charles thanks the lord for long tablecloths.

“Max!” the man’s saying. “I’ve been looking for you all night.” The man looks vaguely familiar when he smiles in her direction. Charles grimaces back at him, fully aware of the hot flush on her face. 

“Hello, Robert,” Max greets warmly, no indication that he’s currently fingering his rival under the table. “How are you doing?” He reaches for a handshake with his free hand, and Charles wants to die. 

They lapse into boring chatter, nothing that Charles really pays attention to. It’s not like she even can. The scope of her world has narrowed down to the feeling of Max’s fingers moving inside of her, the continuous pulse of her cunt, the wetness between her thighs. 

“And what about you, Charles?” the man asks, and now she wants to die even more. 

“Sorry?” she asks, smiling weakly. Max’s fingers start to move faster inside of her, his thumb circling her clit in a steady, unrelenting motion. “I was a bit - mm, lost in thought.” 

The man regards her warily. An FIA official, maybe? Charles can’t place him. 

“I was asking how you are enjoying the evening so far.” 

Oh, god, Charles can’t do this. There’s arousal building in her stomach, a tightening in anticipation. Clear evidence of it is running down her thighs. 

“Oh, you know,” she says, voice shaking. “Free food, free wine, a trophy. What is not to like?”

The man laughs, and Max smirks, crooking his fingers deliberately. The motion is obscene, a stroking motion right against that spot inside of her that makes her feel all twisted-up and squirmy. And also like she needs to piss. 

Christ, that’s all she needs - the first time in her life that she squirts, and she does it at the FIA gala. All over the world champion’s suit. 

Maybe that would finally encourage him to buy a new one. 

The man keeps talking to them, and Charles mostly gets away with smiles and nodding. He leaves, finally, with another clap on Max’s shoulder, a polite nod in her direction. 

“Fuck,” Charles whispers. “Jesus, Max.” 

Max’s thumb starts moving faster, tight, quick circles against her clit, drawing her to the edge. “Come on,” he grunts. Maybe his wrist is starting to hurt. Good. 

Charles moves her hips in tiny, aborted motions. She needs to do something to get the energy out, the fizzing anticipation racing through her bloodstream. It makes the tablecloth move, but Charles doesn’t have room left in her brain to care.

Charles’ hands curl into fists, nails cutting into her palms. The pain of it is clarifying, just in time for her orgasm to hit her like a freight train. 

Charles hitches forward in her seat, the feeling too much for her to cope with. She can’t hide her small moan of pleasure, the expression on her face. She ducks her face and fumbles for the buckle of her shoe, pretending to be fixing it, as the pleasure washes over her like a wave. 

The movement dislodges Max’s hand, practically flattens it against the seat, but Charles doesn’t care. She keeps it locked between her thighs even as he tries to withdraw, grinds out the aftershocks against his palm. Her cunt’s so slick with desire that there’s no resistance, just the smooth glide against his hand. 

“Charles,” Max says. “Can I have my hand back?” he sounds far too composed for her liking. 

Charles shifts, allows him to withdraw his arm. She can’t speak just yet. 

When he pulls his hand out from between her thighs, his fingers are glistening. Wet with her. He wipes them off on the tablecloth. It shouldn’t be hot, the thought of Max dirtying up these no doubt very expensive tablecloths with her desire, but it is. 

“You are a fucking bastard,” Charles tells him, and Max tosses his head back, laughs like he knows. 

Suddenly, there’s a harried looking production assistant at Charles’ shoulder, nudging her. 

“Yes?” Charles frowns at the woman, who smiles at her nervously. 

“You need to be backstage now.” She checks her watch. “Well, two minutes ago, actually.” 

“Oh,” Charles gasps, all too aware of the frantic throbbing of her heartbeat, the matching pulse in her cunt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was our time so soon.” 

“That’s why Robert was over here, you know?” Max smiles at them politely. “He gave us a five-minute warning. You cannot have forgotten this already!” He laughs, and the assistant laughs too, though hers is tinged with panic. It can’t be a great time, rounding up disgruntled celebrities. 

Finally, it clicks where Charles knew the man who’d come to speak to them from. The fucking program co-ordinator, the guy who’d explained to them when they’d arrived how the trophies would be handed out and how much time they had to speak. Fuck. 

Charles is going to fucking kill him. 

She gapes wordlessly at Max, adrenaline rising in her body until she’s not sure whether she’s going to punch him in the face or start sprinting for the exit. He keeps smiling at her until she stands on shaking legs. 

Charles wishes she had a witty rejoinder to leave him with, something to show that his victory isn’t as complete as he’s imagining it to be. There’s nothing, nothing in her head. 

She turns and follows the woman on shaking legs, positively soaked between her thighs. She’ll be lucky if that doesn’t show up on camera, the bright lights reflecting off her skin when she crosses the stage to accept her third-place trophy. Maybe people will think it’s body glitter, or something. 

Louis appears out of nowhere, slings an arm around her shoulder, gives her a tight squeeze. 

“Good luck,” he tells her, pressing a kiss to her cheek just before the aide leads her backstage. “You’ll be wonderful.” 

Charles smiles wanly in his direction, guilt roiling in her stomach. She’d actually… forgotten he was even here tonight. 

She’s led backstage, and before she hands her purse off to the woman, she fumbles in it for her phone. 

“So sorry,” Charles tells her with an apologetic glance. The woman looks like she’d happily slit Charles’ throat right now, but Charles ignores her. 

She pulls up Max’s contact, thumbs flying over the keypad. 

Meet me in the bathroom once you have your trophy. 

Max’s reply is instantaneous. 

Why? 

Charles doesn’t bother to reply, hands her phone to the assistant. Max will do whatever she tells him to, even if he’s got to make an awkward excuse to his girlfriend. Charles plans to repay the favour. 

If she blows him after reapplying her lipstick, there’s no chance she doesn’t leave a ring of red around the base of his cock. A present for his girlfriend to find later. 

That’ll teach him not to fuck with her. 

[muletia]

GOD I am going stupid going crazy for obsessed Smokescreen and the idea of him plucking you off the streets out of fomo from not having a human partner

Little soilder boy be falling head over heels in love at first sight, practically prancing back to base with you in snuggly in his driver's seat <3 yapping away about how excited he is to show you off to the autobots. They're gonna be so jealous! You're clearly like a top 10 human, you're gonna be so happy together! love me a delusional bot

Although you don't get the welcome he wanted, (I can picture them yelling at him like a dog eating something it shouldn't. "Hey what do you have!? Spit it out!") they really have no choice but to let him keep you. You know too much. Not only that they exist, but you know where the base is for Primus's sake. Dispite the scolding, Smokey is thrilled by this decision. And hey, in his defense it's not like any of the other humans asked to get involved with them. You'll come around soon enough.

hhhrrrr I am so down bad for him

delusional smokescreen my beloved

I think I wrote about this in a reply to an ask before, but hhhh I really love the concept that the main reason behind the start of your convoluted acquaintance was Smokescreen’s jealousy over not having a human partner and his own delusions about a fresh bot-human relationship.

But imagine this — you’re just existing, like, you went for a walk and had the misfortune of wandering a little too far from Jasper when suddenly, a sports car speeds past you, then abruptly stops and transforms into a giant robot and declares himself your new friend/future partner. And you don’t even have time to react before he scoops you up into the front seat, tightly straps you in, and starts yapping about your future together, how amazing it’s going to be, and all the adventures you’ll have <3 Oh, he absolutely cannot wait for your first ride (date). Smokescreen is literally dying to show you how fast and cool he can be. You’ll see, it’s going to be wonderful. What? You want to go home? But he’s taking you to your new home <3

btw, he’s 100% going to hold you under your armpits like a cat, eager to show off his new future conjunx to the rest of the bots, wearing a huge, cheerful grin; one that instantly disappears the moment Ratchet starts yelling at him for being irresponsible. lmao. But, of course, there’s no time to be sad when he has so many things to show you and tell you. You’ll see, you’ll like him soon enough — just as much as he fell hopelessly in love with you at first sight <3 (delusions deluxe)

[nookisms]

Alright I'll try to explain this. Our belief on life after death is called the plan of salvation. (Well life after death is the second half, but we need the ENTIRE thing.)

There's this popular post going around with this diagram of the plan of salvation on it:

This diagram is 1. Really complicated looking. 2. Missing a few steps.

So let's use a simpler one:

(Sorry I don't know why it's so blurry.)

Let's start at the beginning with premortal existence. This is actually important, because it answers one of your questions! Heavenly Father asks everyone who will fulfill his plan, Satan says that he will have everyone forced to follow him and Jesus says everyone will be allowed agency (Moses 4:1-3). There's a war in heaven and Satan and a third of the angels are cast out. (Revelation 12:4, 7-9)

This third is the Sons of Perdition, and they're trapped in Outer Darkness. (We'll get to the ones that were cast out to be Sons of Perdition later.)

Next step that's relevant to your questions is the Spirit World, and Spirit Prison. (D&C 138:11-37, but the entire chapter is about the Spirit World) Yes, there's a difference between the sides, as you pointed out, but I've always believed that they're not too different. The only major difference is who can interact with Jesus. It's for spiritual missionaries to teach those in Spirit Prison about the gospel and stuff while those of us who are alive can do their ordinances. If they accept the gospel, yippee! If they don't, oh well. Agency is the most important thing we own! I guess that's just reiterating your point, but we don't really know much about the spirit world.

Now we're into the major part, resurrection and final judgement. This is where we're gonna talk about the few people that were alive but were cast out to be Sons of Perdition. The reason the Sons of Perdition from premortal existence were cast out were because they saw the face of God and turned their back on him. The ones who were alive and cast out saw his face then turned around and said there was no god. Imagine someone seeing you face-to-face then they tell their friends you don't exist. That's a no go with Heavenly Father. :) Sorry you're going to the forever box. Yeah, it's not a perfectly happy ending, but it's not going to happen to me or you. It's only going to happen to religious leaders or the like.

With the kingdoms, it's a much happier story. People from the higher kingdoms can visit people in the lower kingdoms, so you won't ever be separated from your friends and family. The telestial kingdom is the lowest, and I can't remember the verse and I wouldn't ever be able to find it, but I remember that somewhere it says that it will be better there than it is here.

Uh... I don't have a good way to end this. Feel free to ask clarifying questions?

seeing people discussing the concept of hell and how cruel the idea of eternal punishment is like, wow! i know this belief system you would love if not for your knee-jerk reaction against its name

[rosenclaws]

Superstars || Pro Wrestler!Logan x Pro Wrestler!reader

Summary: It's your first day on XMN television since being called up to Evolution. With new friends and possible new rivals your career is filled with the unknown. Especially when it seems like one of the veteran superstars has his eyes on you.

Warnings: some description of wrestling violence.

a/n: OKAY SO. I decided to treat this universe as like sort of series? But it's not like a cohesive story just a lot of short stories in the same universe that can be read separately kind of. This is like the introduction thing though so I will be following up but it can still be read solo. ALSO, I'm gonna add some like wrestling terminology at the end of the fic in case you aren't familiar with certain slang but if that's annoying plz let me know. plz feel free to ask me any clarifying questions too! This is just me combining my two interests lmao.

This was it. Your debut on Evolution since being moved from Origins. You paced back and forth backstage as you rehearsed your lines over and over again. You were supposed to go and interrupt the current Woman's champion Storm. She's the babyface of the Woman's division and you're the egotistical heel.

She has been undefeated for a year now and you were her next challenger. You feel someone tap your shoulder and you turn to see Storm and Rogue.

"You ready?" Storm asks, the belt resting on her shoulder.

"I guess," You were already dressed up with hair and makeup but it didn't feel real yet. Evolution was XMN's main show. That's where the superstars were, the ones they saw as true star power.

"You're going to do great, promise I'll go easy on you." Storm teases. Despite her goddess character, she's nothing but sweet and down to earth.

"First promo on a new show, don't forget your lines sugar." Rogue jokes.

"I'll try." You say nervously. She notices the deep anxiety written all over your face and gently places her arms on your shoulders.

"You got this, take a deep breath and when you get out there take it all in because you're never going to forget it." Rogue says warmly.

The two of them are called by a production manager leaving you alone once again. The clock was ticking ever closer to your call time. As you head closer to where you need to be you're stopped once again but this time by two men you've never met but heard a lot about.

The Wolverine and Deadpool were XMN's top tag team. Somehow the two of them work. Logan or Wolverine was always going to be a star.

Founded on the indie circuit going by just Logan at the time he was big, brooding, and strong. But his mic work was lacking as he wasn't a big talker. Still his raw talent and clear wrestler figure made it a no brainer to sign the man. That's where he met Wade Wilson. Or Deadpool.

He was a comedy character with a big mouth and the ability to get the crowd wrapped around his finger. He was vulgar and unserious as hell but people loved him. So imagine the shock when the two of them became a tag team. It was strange at first, I mean the two were nothing alike but for some reason the fans gravitated to them. The buddy cop duo charmed their way into viewers hearts.

It made sense, Wade was funny but he never quite reached the status to win any gold. Logan had the chance to win gold but fans hadn't really seemed to connect with him as a possible champion. Put them together and you had an odd couple tag team that people just wanted to root for. Wade did the talking while Logan was the muscle. But the banter the two of them electric.

Not to mention the chemistry in their wrestling, pulling off tag team moves flawlessly. Now they're the world tag team champions. And they're standing right in front of you. You were a massive fan of them and had been before you even joined XMN.

"Logan look! A new ducky has joined the pond." Wade pulled you into a hug immediately.

"Oh, uh hi!" You say as you hug him back.

"Get off her idiot." Logan says with a roll of his eyes.

Man Logan was even hotter in person. They had a match tonight and you just thank whoever decided he should wear those low rise trunks. Everything is on display for sure.

"Hi, I'm a huge fan of both of you." You say excitedly.

"Of course you are, who isn't a fan of us." Wade says jokingly.

"Shut up." Logan says before turning to you.

"Thanks sweetheart. Glad to see you here." You notice his eyes scanning you up and down and you silently thank yourself for wearing your good shorts.

"I've seen you on Origins, you're amazing!" Wade compliments and you thank him.

"You really think so? I'm really nervous about tonight." You say shyly. You've done this before but for some reason tonight just felt different.

"Look, you've got no reason to be nervous sweetheart. You got the look, the talent, the athleticism. Everything. Plus a pretty face never hurts." Logan says with a smirk.

You feel your stomach erupt with butterflies at his compliment. Logan isn't the guy to say something he doesn't mean. In fact it's a shock he's even talking to you. You were warned before about how little he talks and to not take it personally. But here he is smiling and giving you advice.

"Thank you, it means a lot coming from you." You say with a smile.

"Good luck tonight by the way, I'm kind of surprised you aren't main eventing. I mean everyone loves you guys." Logan just shrugs and throws the belt over his shoulder.

"I don't mind too much, we'll get the crowd going for you." He says with a wink. Wade eyes the two of you suspiciously, head turning back and forth.

"Oh my god you are so-" Logan slaps his hand over Wade's mouth before he can say anything else.

"We have to go, see you around real soon sweetheart." Logan drags Wade away towards the main stage.

"So rude!" Wade huffs as he shoves Logan's hand off his mouth. Your eyes drift down as they walk away, shamelessly watching Logan's ass.

Despite only talking to him for a couple minutes he's managed to calm all your nerves.

You watch Logan and Wade's match from gorilla. You can't tear your eyes from the screen as Logan clotheslines . He lets out a roar and the crowd cheers. The intensity in his eyes send shivers down your spine. But fuck does he look good.

His massive arms are on full display as he lifts Beast over his head and slams him onto his knee. He turns his back to the camera and you get to see those muscles in all their fucking glory.

"Careful, you might catch flies." You turn to see Jean standing next to you. She's smiling but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Oh I wasn't...I was just watching-"

"It's okay, he's a handsome man. Trust me I know." She hums.

You laugh nervously but there's a strange air between the two of you. Jean was the top star. She may not hold a belt but she was a massive draw and everyone knew it.

"If I can offer you a word of advice, I'd stay away from him if I were you. A lot of history there." She flashes a smile and leaves.

You start to fiddle with your sleeve as you let Jeans words sink in. Looking at Logan doesn't mean anything. He's handsome anyone could see that. That's all it is. You don't think about him that way, at least you don't think you do. You barely know the guy. Storm notices your mini spiral and comes over to snap you out of it.

"Don't let her get to you," Storm says.

"Whatever she said, just block it out." You nod and try and push that away. This is your moment and you got this. This is no different than being on Origins. You know how to do this, you're good at this. The bell rings and Logan and Wade stand victorious.

As they walk back into gorilla you clap along with everyone else. Logan runs his fingers through his hair, his once perfectly styled tuffs are now flattened from sweat. His whole body is sweaty and fuck is it hot.

"Nice match Logan," Storm hums.

"Thanks 'Ro. By the way, be nice tonight alright, It's her first day." He says gesturing towards you. Storm raises an eyebrow at his request.

"She's not brand new Logan, just new to this show."

"I know. Just saying she might be nervous is all." Storm smirks. Logan has never cared this much about a new superstar before.

Interesting.

"Logan! That match was amazing." You praise. You move to hug him but stop yourself. Feeling a pair of eyes drilling themselves in the back of your head.

"Thanks sweetheart, I had hoped you were watching." Storms music hits and you watch her walk out to the crowd. The nerves coming back in full force as you realize it was almost time to go out there.

"Hey, stop that." Logan nudges your shoulder and you sigh.

"I don't know why I'm so nervous. I've been doing this for years but this just feels so much bigger." You say.

"Look Chuck wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't think you were ready. I've followed your career since you joined this place. Like I said earlier you have everything it takes. So don't let some nerves get in your way got it?" Your eyes widen at his words.

He's really watched you all this time? Logan is a star and you've just got called up from developmental. It's like a surge of confidence. He's right. You can do this.

"Thank you Logan." You take a few deep breaths and wait by the curtain. In and out.

You focus on what you have to say and wait. A calmness washes over your mind and body as your music hits. Like a switch is flipped inside of you. You grab the mic and walk out that curtain, ready to show the world what you had.

The whole segment went flawlessly. You interrupt Storm, pushing yourself as the soon to be new woman's champion. You feel right at home as exchanged a war of words with her. Everything ending in a brawl that leaves Storm on the mat with you standing above her. Holding the belt and pointing right at the camera.

The fans fell right into your hand. Booing your shameless attack on their champ. You try and hide your smile as you walk out. The fans love you, they want this match and you couldn't be happier. The moment you step back through the curtain you let yourself breathe. Jumping in happiness.

"You did great sugar! It was electrifyin'" Rogue says while pulling you into a hug.

A few other people congratulate and welcome you to the show. After a small debrief about next week you're free to go. Walking through the halls of the arena you can barely contain your excitement for next week. As you change back into normal clothes you find a familiar face waiting outside of the locker room.

"Logan, I thought you would have gone back to the hotel by now." You say, slightly shocked he's still her. He's leaning against the wall with his backpack. Dressed in a very cozy looking gray sweater.

"Decided to stick around to watch. I told you you'd kill it." He joins you as you walk to the exit.

"Well I had to make sure we were worth following your match." You tease. The conversation flows easy as he walks you to the car waiting to take you both back. Luckily the lobby is practically empty by the time you're dropped off with no one joining you in the elevator.

"Hey, I'm going to train tomorrow if you want to join me. I could show you a few things. See what you've got too." Logan offers.

"Yes!" You blurt out. The chance to train with Logan, you'd be a fool to pass that up.

"I mean, yes that would be great." You try and cover any embarrassment by staring at the ground, wishing it would swallow you up. Logan chuckles leans against his hotel door.

"Okay, it's a date then. See you tomorrow sweetheart." He scans his keycard and goes into his room, leaving you standing there in shock.

A warm fuzzy feeling growing in your stomach as you repeat his words in your head. Date. You hear someone clear their throat and you turn to see Jean watching with an unimpressed look on her face.

You duck your head and hurry to your room. Getting in as fast as you can. You throw your bag on the table and fall onto the hotel bed. Today was not like anything you were expecting. Debuting on a new show, meeting Logan, Jean, setting up a championship feud. It's a lot in one day but you couldn't be happier. This was everything you had dreamed of since you decided to become a wrestler and now it was coming true.

Who knows what's going to happen next.

Gorilla - backstage area where the show is run and the area right before the entrance curtain

Promo -  promotional interview, a dialogue or monologue used to advance a storyline.

Babyface/Face - The "Good guy", "Hero" character. Wants to be cheered by fans

Heel - "The bad guy" or "Villian" that is meant to be boo'd by fans

[anorlondo00]

I do not care at all about sports and the sum total of my knowledge about American football is what I remember from reading Eyeshield 21 fifteen plus years ago, BUT. I am now invested in the football AU. Ace and Luffy are the mascots of the team and everyone loves them. They can do no wrong in Oyaji's eyes and he will let them get away with murder. In return, both of them are seriously devoted to making the team The Best EverTM. The first time the Whitebeards saw Ace throw a hail mary pass they swore it was going way too wide until Luffy tore down the whole length of the field, leapt like the monkey he is higher than anyone thought possible and slammed that ball down. Now the Whitebeards know to expect anything.

Also in my head Ace is the canon 2-3 years older than Luffy, and while he only became his legal guardian upon turning 18, he has helped raised him and the Whitebeards do a double-take every time responsible Ace comes out. Before Luffy joins the team Ace has to beg early off practice to go to a parent-teacher conference. After they're both on the team Ace still makes him PB&J sandwiches after practice, unruffled by doing it in front of everyone in the locker room.

Bootleg Marineford is a game where everyone (and especially Ace, under a lot of pressure) has been physically and mentally wrung out. The Marines team keep trying to sack Ace and get closer and closer, but Marco digs in his heels and makes an impassable barrier of himself. Until there's a crack in the line... And a small opening forms where Teach, who has been fighting with everyone recently, but especially Whitebeard and Ace, stands. Offensive player Akainu, who probably weighs twice what Ace does, hits him like an avalanche. Ace goes down. When Akainu is finally dragged off him, he stays down.

Luffy and Whitebeard are sprinting across the field toward Ace, but Marco's mind has hit the blue screen of death. There's nothing but static behind his eyes as he stares at his fallen quarterback.

The game is suspended and put up for a rematch. Neither Ace nor Marco, who did his level best to murder Akainu right there on the field, play.

(Ace is eventually fine, but now knows up front and personal the effects of a long-term concussion).

Claims not to know that much about American football, proceeds to clearly and accurately describe the exact plot I was also imagining—

YES! Are you KIDDING ME? This is perfect, I’ve got more

They don’t call him ‘Fire Fist’ for nothing, the kid throws missiles. The way Ace and Luffy find each other across an entire football field drops most people’s jaws.

Luffy will track the ball wherever Aces throws it. If Luffy get’s hurt in a collision catching the ball, Ace firmly believes that’s his fault.

That being said, Luffy is notoriously indestructible.

Bootleg Marineford: (That’s a hilarious thing to call it btw)

There was a flag thrown the second Ace got hit. Yes, it was Teach’s fault for leaving an open window. And. Akainu was needlessly brutal. Whitebeard was cursing him out before they even hit the ground.

Luffy was incredibly protective over Ace while he was unconscious. There were cameras everywhere.

Marco needed three people to pull him off Akainu. Instead of apologizing, he later told the media he’d gladly do it again.

Ace is out for the rest of the season. He’s absolutely devastated. That being said, he stood on the sidelines for every game.

Physical and neurological therapy were a bitch. Lots of ‘long talks’ with Pops.

Of course, Ace comes back to the field as soon as he’s better. Now, playing with the most overprotective offensive line you’ve ever seen in your life.

Thank you for writing this, it was so much fun to read!! And there’s a lot I didn't even mention like the adjusted age gap (perfect for this) and parent teacher conferences— I love it all!

[midnight-mourning]

(Mostly) Happy Accidents

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 3💘💘

Silly little fluffy thing for you all, as someone allergic to red dye (to a point, it's a 50/50 chance whether i'll break out in hives or not so I usually just avoid it to be safe) it resonated when it came to valentine's candy/sweets, hope you enjoy!

Prompt: The boys know about the tradition of Valentine's candy and get some for Y/N, not knowing they were allergic to one of the ingredients in the candy. Apologies and appreciation for attempting to get Y/N a gift obviously follow

Word Count: 1425

Read here if you prefer ao3!

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Sun seems almost too excited when the last child exits the Daycare for the day. Practically buzzing beside you as you wave goodbye and shut the door. 

Maybe it was just for clean up, considering you had so much to do today in particular. It was Valentine's after all. And as with every holiday, the attendant simply had to go all out for it. Which, while pretty, would be a laborious process to tidy up. 

So when you turn around to discuss it with him, and see his hands filled with a giant heart-shaped box, you were quite surprised. 

"Happy Valentine's day, Sunbeam! We got this just for you!" Sun tilts his head, rays spinning quickly. 

Your eyes widen, starting to smile. "Oh! You didn't guys didn't have to do that. But I appreciate it! Thank you, really." 

You take the box and open it up. Inside, they're all sorts of different sweets, all different shapes and with different patterns. You don't even know where to begin. You pick one at random and pop it into your mouth, chewing as you listen to Sun speak again. 

"Of course we did! How else are we supposed to show how much we care about you? On the most important day to do it, no less." He chuckles. 

Your face starts to warm up, and you swallow. "Y-yeah? You um, mean that?"

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't, Sweetheart." Sun boops your nose, giggling. 

It just serves to fluster you further, so to stop yourself from saying anything by downing another chocolate. 

Sun continues chatting, his excitement truly coming to light now. "We were really nervous about finding something you'd like, we spent ages trying to make sure we found something that had all your favorite flavors, to show you how much we care, because we do, a lot..."

As he talks, you realize the burning on your face isn't getting any better, but now notice that it's not from being embarrassed. The warmth is also traveling down your neck and chest, accompanied by an all too familiar itching sensation. You feel that same to desire to scratch at your currently covered arms.Your throat is tight, but not horrible, thankfully.

When you think to look at the half-bite you've taken out of the chocolate in your hand, and see the hot pink-colored filling, it basically confirms what you thought had happened. 

You keep your calm though, still trying to listen as the playtime attendant keeps going. "—And then came the matter of actually getting it! We couldn't ask for help because that would ruin the surprise, and we were also afraid someone would tell us we couldn't get you something, and that wouldn't do! So imagine our delight when Officer Ryan left his wallet in the break room. We just quickly borrowed the card and put it right back, don't worry! He didn't even notice—" He stops all of the sudden, tone falling. "Is everything okay, Starshine?"

You jump, realizing you're scratching at your neck now. "Um, sort of? Do you happen to know if any of these have red dye in them?"

"Red dye? Of course they don't, Sunbeam, it says right here in your file that you're allergic we would never—forget... something, like, that..." Sun freezes in that moment, staring out into space as realization seems to kick him straight in the gut. 

You put your hands up. "It's okay, it's okay. I just need a benadryl and I'll be fine-Woah!"

Sun scoops you up, hurriedly rushing over to the desk with you in his arms. With his free hand he starts frantically looking for something. 

"Not good, not good, not good! Oh, I'm so so so sorry Star! We should have paid more attention, we just got so caught up in finding you something perfect and now—" He shakes his head, growing more panicked. 

You try to diffuse the situation before he short circuits or something. "Sunny, it's fine, I promise. It's just a mild allergy. I'll be okay, really." You don't tell him how desperately you want him to set you down so you can scratch your arms off, as you think that'll only worsen the situation. 

Your words don't register, he can't seem to hear you as he searches through the medical bag, suddenly ripping his hand from inside to pull out an epi pen. And before you can protest, he's setting you on the desk and jabbing it into your thigh. 

You yelp, and he immediately relaxes. For the most part. As his posture sags, face downturned, he speaks again, dejected. "Please forgive us. We're so sorry. Had we been paying attention this never would have happened."

"Sunny, it's okay. It was a mistake." You set a hand on his shoulder, he flinches at your touch. 

Suddenly he looks up, anger in his tone, though not at you, you quickly realize. "But we hurt you! How can you be so calm about this!?"

"Because it's a minor allergy, silly bot." You cup his face with both hands as his rays flit about. "Do you have any idea how many things have red dye in them? Especially Valentine's candy? I've probably had to take an antihistamine like four times this week already."

You ignore his wide-eyed stare at your statement in favor of pressing your lips to his smile for a moment. "It's my fault for not checking beforehand, not yours. You were just trying to be nice and do something sweet for me. And I appreciate that more than anything. Really, I do. I'm… flattered, honestly." You mumble the last bit, looking away as you comprehend what you just did. 

A hand on your cheek makes you glance back to him, eyes now lidded and tone syrupy. "We're glad..." He shakes his head. "But, still. It won't happen again! Now come on, what you need is proper rest and relaxation!"

Again you're picked up, carried away to be sat in the attendant's lap in a bean bag, blanket suddenly covering you both and a couple of coloring books and crayons appearing out of nowhere. 

"Don't you worry, we'll think up an even better gift to give you before the day is over! I promise!" Sun says as he gets to work on coloring. 

You pause to register everything that just happened, then chuckle, shaking your head. "Okay, but really, it's alright. This is just as thoughtful, you know. But we'll have to clean at some point, don't forget."

Sun hums, and he's so focused you think he only half hears you. You laugh again, and snuggle back into him to get started yourself. As his free hand slings round your waist you feel yourself start to burn up all over again. 

The rest of the afternoon is filled with similar activities, neither attendant letting up at all about 'making it up to you' despite your insistence that you were okay. 

You didn't mind in the slightest though, now snuggled in Moon's arms as you both sit reading. 

"As horrible as it sounds I'm kinda glad you bought those chocolates." You glance up to him, small smile on your face. "I don't think things would've ended up this way if you hadn't."

Moon tsks, though his eyes hold a certain cheekiness. "Maybe not, but that doesn't mean we'll ever be letting it happen again. There are much better ways to end up with you in my arms." He flicks your forehead and you huff. Only to be silenced by a brief peck to your lips. 

He holds something up for you then, and taking a moment to focus you see it's a bundle of paper roses. Looking closer you see some are made from coloring pages, and others from Moon's book. 

"We have plenty of more books of all kinds before you worry. And it was the least we could do considering what happened earlier."

You take the bundle, admiring the detail in each folded piece of paper. "They're lovely. Truly. Thank you both." You twist again to kiss his cheek, then go back to fawning over your present, warm smile on your lips. 

"Once we get ahold of Officer Ryan's credit card again we'll be sure to get you something better, I promise." Moon presses a kiss to the top of your head, and picks up his book once more. 

You pause then. "I, let's not do that—you didn't think to save it?"

"We did. But just inputting it directly isn't nearly as thrilling." He snickers. 

"Moon!" 

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Thank you for the request @dangerva! I enjoyed writing the sillies panicking (just a little bit) hehe

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist

[syoddeye]

SY!!! I saw your post talking about cyberpunk and cod and now I can't stop thinking about it!

I just know that soon as John hears a sweet deal he calls up reader, knowing they're perfect for the job.

Eventually he begins to brag to the other fixers he knows, aka gaz, ghost, and soap who all want to hire reader but ofc John is way too possessive of them, bribing reader with extra eddies and even gifts reader iconic upgrades to their system.

I can imagine Viktor as Nikolai…giving them random discounts for him to replace their implants every time Price feels like the other boys are roping reader away…

oh i hadn't thought about all of them being fixers!

price. you're his favorite. the moment you arrived on the scene, you’ve been in his crosshairs. he has complete faith in you and no problem giving you the most dangerous, dirty jobs. he worries, of course, but he'll never bet against you. rewards you even when you break a few clauses. always inviting you round to family dinner. (i get padre vibes—not necessarily the religious angle, but the calmer, old-school vibe.)

gaz. ex-corp turned fixer. big regina jones vibes with that altruistic streak—helping cyberpsychos, but not afraid to get his hands dirty. maybe reader impresses him early on, or price recommends her for a job. you share a deep hatred for scavs and basically anyone snatching people off the street for their hardware and organs. after a flawless job, he hits you with a that's my girl and it keeps you up for a week.

soap 🤝 el capitan, fuck ass haircuts. calls and texts incessantly. sends you pics of new rides all the time. apartments. did you want tickets to the nc blackouts game in lieu of payment? you'd have to go with him, but—no? alright, yer loss. (later that night, he sends you a selfie from the game, arm slung around someone who could pass for your double. fucking weird.) loves sending you after maelstrom.

ghost. man. honestly? could see him as something between a fixer and a ripperdoc. knows all the best and worst characters, loves to get his hands on fine equipment. roots around in you while you're at your most vulnerable in his chair. always has a hand on you if you're in his office—which is all the time, because face-to-face is more secure than any encryption, bird. takes to tapping your nose with a knuckle when you take a job. his breathing goes real rough when you report back, bloodied and bruise, and steals a squeeze for a job well done.

nikolai…oof, i think he could be a nasty fixer, too. but i get the ripperdoc vibe, too. you would have never gone to this clinic if john hadn't vouched for him. he always has the latest and greatest hardware in stock and a steady supply, but has a rule: you don't ask about where he gets any of it. lots of nasty jokes when he's wrist-deep in your abdomen.

[redrayvenrr]

Y'all are sleeping on Sweets headcanons, so I am here to pick up the slack (which ended up becoming a long rant, and I'm not sorry)

-Sweets' bitch from another ditch Gael is a tattoo artist, y'all know Sweets is Gael's test dummy

Sweets is probably covered head to toe in the randomists tattoos. They got at least one full sleeve, 7 of them are incomplete, and maybe like 3-5 of them are actually ones Sweets wanted

But I offer you Nat coloring Sweets' tattoos to the point where Sweets buys her temporary tattoo markers for her birthday

-Essence Eaters live longer than the average person, right? So Sweets could easily be twice Law's age but is still making fun of him and calling him an old man despite him being in his 20's (imagine Sweets being born in the 70's-80's and Law 90's-early 2000's XD Sweets is very happy that ripped jeans are back in style)

I also imagine Sweets with longer hair because at some point they decided that going to get a hair cut every month or so is too much of a hassle for how long their life span is (and I offer you Sweets eventually needing to dye their hair grey to match Law's so they still look like a couple to non-attuned (I'm not sorry))

Also, remember that in the "getting patched up-" video Law says that "this doesn't look like one of the little scuffles you do for fun at the circle"???? Hello??? Street fighter Sweets??? Go kick ass Sweets you got this baby

-And scars?? I'd imagine they'd obviously have the few you get from childhood, and if we're going with street fighter Sweets, then they probably have a bit more than normal. Like on their knuckles and maybe one on their cheek/forehead/lip/ankles or something. But ya know, it's just for fun, and every once in a while, they're not addicted to fighting or anything

But then the fight with Joel? Joel was out for blood, and Sweets practically died. There are definitely scars, one of which I imagine being a scratch over their eye cause I'm edgy like that (plus it makes sense that Joel would use everything in his arsenal to take down the all powerful Sweets which means nails and playing dirty).

But there is definitely a bite scar since he drained Sweets' lifeforce, which is why they were so concerned about Law getting scarred after the train incident. They don't want him living through that pain they feel every time they see their own bite scar (and ya know they can't live with the idea of hurting Law so "please at least don't let my mistakes scar")

-And speaking of the train incident Law stated that Sweets is strong as all hell and I'm here for it and I need them to crush a watermelon and Law looses his shit (buff Sweets for the wiiiin)

-Sweets' heartbeat was already a comfort for Law, but after Joel, you'll often find Law pressed against their heart. Cuddling on Sweets' chest is a must. When Law has a bad day, Sweets immediately presses him against their chest. Hugs often are one of Law's arms wrapped around them and his other hand press against their chest. Law sitting in between Sweets' legs so he can lean his back or shoulder against their heart

-I think it would be funny if Sweets also had an accent (like Bitish or Scottish or some shit) and everyone enjoys watching Nat struggle with her own accent because she'd have the weirdest mix of her father's southern, her mother's average american, and Sweets' (maybe a bit of uncle desdes)

(And while we're talking about Nat, when are we getting her dog!??! Please, I need the household to just become Spy X Family)

-Can we talk about how good Sweets is with kids? Where did you pick that up? Cause I just always imagined them as an orphaned only child? Like I physically can't see them with a family before Law and Nat, but maybe that's just me

(Maybe they grew up in foster homes and were always the older sibling of the group? Idk)

-One order of Sweets being good at the guitar and singing, strumming their guitar while Law plays the piano and singing Nat to sleep please

Sweets being in a band as a teen in the 80's/90's sounds like good blackmail for Gage to abuse (especially the hair) (but like imagine them doing a killer rift then proceeding to sing Def Leppard)

-I think their job would be like a metal worker or glass blowing, and I don't have an explanation as to why

-Sweets honestly feels like the most responsible and mature person out of all the characters they're just shit at taking care of themself and, say it with me: ✨️traumatized✨️

-I also imagine Sweets as a male, but that's my own problem

But imagine Nat finally calling them dad, and they just combust

Plus Sweets feels like one of those dads who drops a piece of lore then never speaks of it again (whereas Law is the hands on hips, legs apart dad pose (you know the one I'm talking about))

The idea of Sweets being "one of the guys" with Law's coworkers gives me life (because yes Love/Newbie is also a male cause if Desmond isn't just a pure gay man then you're wrong (honestly like 90% the listeners are male in my head)idk)

[cybercrym]

So I've been thinking about season 3 of Rings of Power and how we'll get another Sauron/Galadriel scene. How they'll frame that scene and how it'll need to lead us into season 4. We know season 3 will be Sauron's war against the Elves. We know from the books they Elves get pushed back and would surely lose, if not for the Numenorians showing up and destroying Sauron's army from behind. My vision for the end of S3 may seem like crack, but I assure you, it's plausible. To set the scene, the Elves have lost, they're retreating to Lindon. Sauron and his army is approaching head on, because at this point he outnumbers them; they all know where this is going. But the Elves still send their army out. Galadriel has a few paths she can take this season. She can lead the army as it's being beat back to Lindon. She could be sent by Gil-Galad to gather reinforcements from Greenwood, but I imagine Arondir will be given this task if they even bother mentioning it. Gil-Galad will lead the army instead and Galadriel will go to Numenor to see if she can persuade them into aiding Middle-Earth again. But I don't think this is likely. The end of this will surely have Galadriel and Sauron meeting again, but I think this time, it will be a bit different. I think Ar-Pharazon is PISSED Galadriel convinced Numenor to side with Sauron is disguise, I imagine he'll assume they're working together either way or at least, blame her for Numenor's folly of sending men to die for her. The end of the fight will have Galadriel being captured again, by I assume Orcs and brought to Sauron. (He wasn't going to kill Elrond or Gil-Galad at Eregion either) Sauron will have her hostage, they'll do their thing and then Numenor will surprise his army from behind and wipe them out. Sauron will escape in earnest and Ar-Pharazon will only see them in the command tent as allies, I think. He will not believe Galadriel when she assures him she's Sauron's enemy. Now, he's where it gets crack-y. I fully am convinced Ar-Pharazon will demand Galadriel's execution. But Sauron (I can only hope dressed as Halbrand), will come out of the darkness or treeline or whatever. He'll ask Ar-Pharazon to take him as a prisoner instead.(In my mind, this is Hannibal surrendering to Jack-style) To us it'll look like he's trying to save Galadriel this time. Ar-Pharazon will try to outsmart Sauron and take them both as prisoner to Numenor instead. Granting Sauron's request, but also getting to publicly tie them together back in Numenor, I assume he'll plan a trial for them. This will tie in how Galadriel saw Numenor's destruction in the Palantir. It will appear to us as Sauron trying to save Galadriel, but just like every decision in S1 and S2 regarding her, it will also fuel his own ambitions. He's now without an army, he needs to corrupt Numenor to get a new one. This also sets up a great season 4 of Numenorian Hannibal/Clarice style prison interaction with Sauron/Galadriel and it'll be fun to watch them play Angel and Devil on Ar-Pharazon's shoulder the entire season. Sauron and I assume Galadriel will then ask for a trial in the same manner Miriel did, I assume she'll tell them about it before they both get sentenced to death. They very much already passed this trial in 1x2. But I can't wait to see Ar-Pharazon's face when they both pass this test. He'll be forced to release them, to his chagrin.

My vision for the next 2 seasons of the main plot for TROP may seem like crack, but I can promise they'll need to do some of this to keep their narrative going along with canon events.

[sixeyescurseuser]

《a quiet place》

Growing up deaf was as difficult as one could imagine, considering Geto’s parents weren’t aware of or had access to the resources to accommodate his disability.

Hearing people - the teachers or kids his age - didn’t have the most patience either. They treated him like he was dumb when he's actually so incredibly bright, just as smart as anyone else! Bullies would sneak up and scare the shit out of him. Others simply pretended he didn’t exist. 

It was hard making connections when no one communicated like Geto did.

After time, Geto made peace with his situation. He mostly kept to himself, nose buried in his books or playing outside, befriending nature’s little creatures instead. Geto’s parents thought speaking quickly would prevent him from reading their lips, but he still knew they had wished for a normal child who didn’t have his “issues.”

Thus, Geto was used to people approaching him at first sight. He was also used to them leaving him alone after realizing he couldn’t hear. After graduating from high school, it was an easy decision to leave his small hometown and attend university in the big city. 

Here, Geto has managed to make a total of two friends, Haibara and Yuki, who always invite him to do normal college kid things!

Presently, Geto finds himself dancing in the club with his friends, moving along to the pulsing vibrations of the music. They stop at the bar for more drinks or water, and that's when the bartender places a drink in front of Geto despite him not ordering anything?

It's a pink drink with a little umbrella, and Geto can only make out the "mocktail" and "guy over there" from reading the bartender's lips. Geto looks over to see a head full of striking white hair and a face adorning obsidian-black shades.

/Good evening/, the stranger casually signs.

(Geto inside: "HUH??")

Geto is too shocked to sign anything back. He’s stuck looking between the drink and the stranger whose gaze is entirely too piercing, even from behind the shades.

The stranger frowns, points at the drink he ordered for Geto.

/Not to your taste? I can drink it instead. It's raspberry-flavored./ The white-haired man signs with minimal pauses, eyebrows furrowed as if he's actually concerned about the flavor choice for Geto.

Here we introduce Gojo Satoru, physics and engineering double major, who picks up random skills like they’re digimon, and sign language happened to be one of them.

Thank heavens he did because Geto Suguru has been on his radar for a few months now. They share a social science course together and Gojo has always taken aback by how articulate Geto was. It certainly helped that Geto was stunning with his silky, jet-black locks and sly, amber-colored eyes. 

And, well, Geto's always in the same spot in the library. Gojo was bound to notice how majestic he looked studying with his hair pulled back into a bun, tapping away at his computer.

Gojo felt an instant pull to Geto but never worked up the nerve to approach him.

Until now, when they’re sitting across from each other at this random bar on a Sunday night. (It helps that Gojo has been planning to make a move for months. Simp.)

Geto finally processes the fact that this white-haired man is full-on signing to him. It’s too good to be true. Perhaps they can become friends, where they can talk through Geto’s language, for once!

Geto moves over to Gojo’s side of the bar, plopping down in the seat beside him. They end up spending the rest of their night together, making small but intimate talk. Geto leaves with Gojo's number in his phone and a text from him expressing how much he enjoyed the night thanks to Suguru. 

After that night, they text each other nonstop. And when they're not texting, they're doing something together: studying, going on walks, eating out. 

Geto is addicted to Gojo’s corny cat memes. Maybe to the daily selfies Gojo sends too, where Gojo says he’s “blessing Suguru’s eyes.” He has no idea how true that is for Geto. 

(Geto saves those photos for ... research purposes.)

It’s safe to say that Geto finds Gojo soooo incredibly hot - his face, his mannerisms, his mind. Gojo never fails to include Geto, whether by putting captions with his presentations or signing while he talks. He even used his connections to set up a JSL club for their university. 

Geto insistently denies his crush, but Haibara and Yuki know better. They see the way Geto’s entire face lights up when he receives messages from Gojo during their movies nights. 

It does not help that whenever Gojo and Geto’s friend groups hang out together, the pair are sooo touchy and sweet with each other. Gojo could be telling a story, and his eyes would always flicker to Suguru's, signing the important bits for emphasis. 

Geto is enthralled, shooting Gojo heart eyes that are so obvious to everyone else. They are clearly flirting. Some of it also happens to be Gojo just being himself and Geto finding himself wooed. (Again, Geto would never admit - out loud or silently.)

While Geto does prefer to sign to communicate, one of the few words he loves speaking is actually Gojo’s first name. He says it so often, it’s practically muscle memory.

Gojo is astonished to hear Suguru speak with the dialect distinct from his hometown as well as with a slight lisp. He makes Geto repeat his name three to four times until Suguru playfully flicks his forehead to get him to stop. 

Their first kiss is probably in the library, Gojo finally able to sit next to Geto while he studies. Surprisingly, it’s Geto who has given up on hopes of studying any longer. It’s easy enough to grab Satoru’s attention with a wave, casually signing an existential question of, /Do you think parallel universes exist?/

The pair calmly sign back and forth, sharing secret smiles, and thighs pressed together from how close they sit. After finishing a few games of footsies, Gojo being the sore loser, he pulls Geto against his chest and kisses the top of his head. Geto is starstruck, feels so warm and gooey inside.

That's when the casual kisses on the head, forehead, and cheek start between them.

Gojo is too hesitant to kiss Suguru directly. Doesn't want to read too much into things because he gets attached easily, and this thing with Suguru is more than he could ever ask for.

Meanwhile, Geto is going through all the ways to make Satoru break and /kiss./ him/.

Gojo sometimes sleeps over too so they end up sharing Geto's bed. Their littol hearts beat in-sync at 200 beats per minute. Geto is worried because he does not know if a heartbeat is something others can hear. Maybe if it beats too fast, it’s like a purring sound?

Unacceptable. He forces his heart to calm down because he cannot let Satoru know how crazy he is about him. Steam is gonna blow out of his ears from how hard he's concentrating and overthinking. Gojo pauses when he looks over to see how red Suguru's cheeks are.

/Hey/, Gojo signs to get Geto's attention. When Geto slowly locks eyes with him, Gojo reaches over to place the back of his hand against Geto's forehead. Using his opposite hand, Gojo signs, /Are you feeling okay? You look a little flushed./

/I'm fine! I'm fine/! Geto signs while smacking Gojo's hand away.

Stay still, my beating heart, Geto thinks frantically.

Alas, Geto fails to see that whenever Gojo enters the room, the first person he looks for is Geto. Even if there are others calling his name, Gojo's eyes search for Suguru’s warm amber ones. Geto is so happy because someone notices him first despite him not being able to call for their attention - Satoru is always looking at him.

Until the day Gojo shows up for a group hangout, a girl pulls him into conversation before he can make his way over. Geto knows by her body language and how close she gets to Satoru that she's hoping to win his affections tonight.

Geto wilts a little. Maybe... maybe Satoru wasn't coming over as soon as Geto thought he was.

Geto goes to find Haibara or Yuki, deciding to give Satoru time alone with the girl.

Not even five minutes later, Gojo appears, lightly tapping Geto's shoulder to get his attention from behind. Regardless of what conspired, Geto offers a warm smile, and happily bumps his shoulder against Gojo's chest. 

They're in the bar and restaurant section of an arcade. Their group is together now, always making sure to include Geto in their conversations. When Geto’s friends suggest going into the arcade, Gojo stands up and begins to go along.

Before Geto can stop himself, he puts a hand on Satoru's chest and signs, /What about that girl?/

Gojo blinks at him blankly. 

/What girl?/ he signs back. Geto's eyebrows knit together. Is Satoru being dumb on purpose??

/The one you were talking to before you joined us,/ Geto signs with a sigh, his movements getting lazy due to his anxiety. /Did you want to spend more time with her?/

Gojo's eyes widen in realization, and then he's rapidly shaking his head.

/What?? Why would I?/ Gojo asks. He looks bewildered, in a sense, and Geto is feeling self-conscious enough as it is because why did his stupid brain have to ask questions??

Geto shrugs helplessly, then signs, /She didn't interest you?/ 

Gojo's face breaks out into an amused smile.

/Suguru, I already have someone I'm interested in./

What...?

And that's when Geto's heart shatters into a million pieces.

/WHO?/ Geto signs with a sweeping gesture.

Gojo's hands pause mid-air, freezing upon the directness of Geto's question.

When he doesn't answer for a long moment, Geto swallows thickly, and pushes down his guilt, his yearning, and his pride.

/Never mind. It's none of my business,/ Geto signs quickly, then turns on his heel and flees.

Against his better judgement, risking one more look at the man his heart belongs to, Geto chances a look over his shoulder. Geto's met with the sight of Gojo barreling into him, arms wrapping around Geto so tightly like he never plans to let him go.

Vibrations against his skin indicate Satoru's talking, but Geto can't understand a word. An apology? An explanation?

"Sssatoru...?" Geto says, feeling the raspiness of his voice from the lack of use. 

In response, Gojo pulls back just enough so he can use one hand to point to Suguru.

"/You. It's //you.//" Gojo says and signs. Geto's still a little lost, eyes flickering between the finger jabbed towards him and Satoru's earnest expression.

/Me?/ Geto signs and mouths silently. Gojo nods once, eyes holding an intensity that Geto realizes he must have been too afraid to truly see.

Gojo sadly retracts the other hand that was on Geto's waist so he can sign, /I didn't want that girl, or any other person, because the only one I want is /you./ 

Geto audibly gasps, his heart feeling like it's ceased beating completely. Is this real life? Did Satoru really... feel the same way?

/You are my person, understand?/ Gojo finishes signing, eagerly awaiting Geto's reply. (He signs so passionately that his hands are making slapping sounds.) Along with his facial expressions, Geto gets the point instantly. 

/I feel the same,/ Geto signs back, happy tears gathering in his eyes. /You are my person too./

Geto surges up to hug Satoru close, giggling when Satoru obnoxiously rubs his face in the crook of Geto's neck. Geto's breath hitches when Satoru also peppers kisses along his skin, feeling ten times more intimate after their confessions.

Nestled in the dim hallway, where no one else lingers nearby, Geto says the two words he’s been yearning to say for a while now. 

“Kiss me,” he whispers, because Satoru cannot see his hands at the moment. Without further adieu, Gojo cups Geto's cheek and softly presses their lips together. He also gently presses Geto against the wall, leaving not a single space where their bodies are not touching. 

Geto's heart soars within his chest. He's so happy! All of Geto's senses are 100% tuned into the way Satoru kisses and holds him. Even closes his eyes because without sight and sound, Geto knows he trusts Satoru with his life. 

It's pure bliss. 

He can't hear the way Gojo is making pleased noises, or how their lips moving together have a wet sound that drive Gojo insane. But Gojo can, and he savors everything. He loves any sound Suguru unknowingly makes too. His satisfied sighs, the way he gasps or his breath hitches, even the faint moans that slip past Suguru's lips. 

Gojo swallows all of them. 

Later on, Gojo finds he loves to whisper dirty things to Geto in public. He knows his boyfriend’s shudders are just because of the sensations on his ear but it satisfies Gojo to no end. 

Plus, the couple will sign the most inappropriate things to each other in public because practically no one can understand. For example, Geto signs that he wants Satoru to fuck him against the wall when they get home.

One of Gojo's friends: "What did your boyfriend say?"

Gojo, clearing his throat: "Um, that he wants soba for dinner."

Gojo signing to Geto: /I'll do whatever you want, baby/

Geto: ☺️

A few months later, they're sharing Geto's bed cuddled like two sleepy cats together. Geto has a leg thrown over Satoru's hips, where Satoru has been tapping his thigh in a repetitive pattern over and over again. It's nowhere near the first time Satoru has done so, but Geto snaps his fingers to get Satoru's attention - who was previously scrolling on his phone.

/What does it mean?/ Geto asks. Upon Gojo's confused expression, Geto gestures to Gojo's hand on his thigh, fingers continuing their tapping motion.

/It's morse code. It means.../ Gojo pauses, tapping out the full message, slower this time. /I love you./

Geto's eyes soften, and he scoots closer until their faces are mere centimeters apart.

"Teach me," Geto breathes out against Gojo’s lips.

And so he does. 

They’ll never stop coming up with ways to say “I love you.”

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

[imagine-darksiders]

I have no idea if this thought is original or a warped echo of someone else's, but!

Imagine, imagine-darksiders, a darksiders au where all living races shared a world. The makers would be the ancient and reclusive race of giants and the only proof of their existence being their creations, angels- high in sky barely communicating with the filthy earthbound, demons- usually the troublemakers but with their own complex underworld societal structures and humans that (for survivability reasons) would have a wide variety of their own magic. Ranging from magic that directly strengths the body to outright spells.

A do imagine that in this world through a series of shenanigans a wanted rouge mercenary (totally not the Strife ;)) would end up being the official royal guard to an offical (y/n) on their diplomatic and research mission to other races. Further shenanigans ensue where Strife attracts more danger than y/n, his exasperated siblings join in etc etc.

(my brain decided that fixating on this has higher priority than writing my bachelors)

Hell yeah, forget the Bachelor's degree, this is the real basis of knowledge.

The idea of sharing a world with these beings is delicious in its own right. But the idea of them always having been there is so fascinating. Like, you get explorers going to try and uncover ancient Maker relics to find out what happened to them, if anything happened at all.

Angels who think they're higher and mightier than those who walk on the ground, but there are those among them who are curious, who venture to Earth to gather research and find out their societal prejudices are wildly incorrect.

Turf wars between rogue Demons and Humans when the former venture out onto the surface and start attacking the latter.

The Four are self-made mercs who swore a pact to protect the Earth, and who ended up having a soft spot for the youngest species - Humanity - that they share it with.

Strife is hired by some high-born noble who wants his only living child to have a bodyguard as you travel across the globe trying to build relations with other species. You're already renowned for striking an accord with the Lord of Bones, and bringing your Kingdoms closer in trade and good will.

Strife is... a bit of a nightmare at first. He's far too gung-ho for your line of work, turning easily to threats and coercion rather than deal diplomatically. He's caused you many headaches that you've had to frantically smooth over, and you cause him headaches because you're apparently blind to the danger you're putting yourself in.

Couldn't you see that those Phantom Guards weren't interested in talking? He had to put a bullet in their heads or they would have killed you! What do you mean you're trying to avoid a cross-species incident? Paperwork? For killing a couple of loud-mouth demons? You didn't hear what they wanted to do you when you weren't paying attention. It's a good thing Strife heard them. Nearly went Anarchy on the whole phalanx just for that comment about you...