#and he doesn't expect to have any fun and it's like

[gabessquishytum]

In this year’s omega run, Dream is determined to find his mated omega. The run is a time honored tradition. It’s always been Dream’s hope to find his true love in the hunt.

Only when the run starts, he keeps getting distracted by this perfect scent. It isn’t anyone he knows. That means it’s probably an omega from a lower society. Dream should ignore it anyway.

Except then he comes into a clearing where an unfamiliar omega is being chased by three alphas.

All three plead their case, begging to know the omega’s name (and Dream can see why. This omega is beautiful, with strong, wide hips, glowing healthy skin, and he’s fast and clever, dodging every attempt to pin him.) he is not from high society but he is brimming with life and joy. He is truly enjoying the challenge of the run. And he clearly won’t settle for less than the best.

And he looks at Dream, grins and winks and fills the air with his pheromones. One of the alphas lunges and almost catches him. But slippery as a fish, the omega wriggles free and darts into the trees.

And dream is gone. It’s love at first sight.

Instinct takes over and Dream chases, suddenly desperate to prove himself more worthy than the other three alphas and win the heart of this omega.

I love the omega run concept, especially when all parties are consenting and actively enjoying the thrill of the chase!

Hob has always enjoyed the idea of finding his mate on the omega run. He's participated ever since he was eligible, but so far, no one has been able to catch him. Hob doesn't want just any old alpha, and he's not settling for second best - so he keeps showing up every year, hoping that eventually he'll meet his match.

The dark haired alpha who comes across him in the clearing is gorgeous, but Hob is still determined! And he's thrilled to find that this particular alpha actually seems able to keep up with him. Unlike most other alphas, this one is slim, lean and fast - built for endurance, for the hunt. Hob is fascinated. While his other pursuers eventually run out of stamina, the beautiful dark haired alpha keeps on Hob’s trail.

And Hob eventually has to slow down. He's panting, exuding pheromones like it's going out of style. He's not even a little disappointed when the alpha pounces, bringing Hob down to the ground and holding onto him tight. Hob struggles a little, for fun, but soon he's bearing his throat in submission.

Hob didn't expect his beautiful dark haired alpha to out to be practically royalty. Dream is rich and powerful and could have any mate he could ever want. But it turns out, he wants Hob... and Hob is truly proud to have been caught. He can't wait to have Dream chasing him for the rest of their lives <3

[imaginaryttowns]

sevika heacanons because i'm insane abt her (general and romance-related)

(mention of sex/aftercare but no smut/nsfw/lemon/whatever here)

the card games and the cards themselves have been with Sevika since she was a little girl. she has nebulous memories of a childhood that once was, where her and her mother are playing solitaire at a small table together. she doesn't seem to talk about much from that time in her life other than that. she will get defensive if you press her about these memories.

the gambling, however, started when she was a pit fighter, in her early teens. Sevika's father was the well-known heel of a pit fighting ring, who entertained crowds of wealthier Zaunites and even more corrupt Piltovans with a suave demeanor that Sevika envied, despised, and attempted to emulate all at the same time, following in her father's footsteps for those formative years of her life. needless to say many of Sevika's current habits started during those years. in that world, one had to blend in just enough to gain social favor yet stick out enough to maintain power, and she learned the name of the game quite early in life.

she has a missing molar from those days that she somehow recovered from the fight she lost it in. she now wears it on a pendant around her neck, always tucked underneath her shirts for safekeeping.

the first time you fiddle with it was while you were sitting her lap, most likely during aftercare. she's perturbed, almost offended. but as much as she tried, she couldn't bring herself to put you in your place. she decided silently that she didn't want to remove the warmth of your body from hers, and quickly got used to you fiddling with it. low-key doesn't even want to tell you it bothered her to begin with.

while moonshine and whiskey are her usual drinks of choice, this is only because they are the cheapest, most readily available alcoholic drinks in Zaun. they are by no means her favorite ones. no, her favorite drink is the bottle of imported habushu stowed away in the farthest corner of her kitchen cabinets, that she is fiercely protective over, only ever opening it for new year's day and anniversaries.

will never admit to anyone how much the habushu cost -- she is broke with expensive tastes, and this is the only splurge she allows herself regularly.

while Sevika is a regular at the brothel post-arm loss, she is not a John as most would expect. she's there to watch - watch the dancers, watch for any workers who need help with particularly invasive clients, always watching. the silent and strong sentinel. she does this without letting Silco know what she's up to. she knows how he feels about giving Babette any kind of business, but really could not care less.

"These people need protection. Enforcers ain't exactly kind to them," she tells him unapologetically the one time he caught her. he glared at her for a moment, grumbled something, waved her away dismissively, but knew better than to interfere. Deep down, he respected her reasoning and decided she was just so good at her job that her extracurricular activities were no business of his.

with all that mushy shit being said, brothels are also great places to gamble. people there are distracted, since they have their minds occupied with the 'merchandise' so brazenly advertised there. more distracted hedonists meant more wins for her, and more wins meant more cash, more notoriety, more fun. she likes to call these little visits her "bonuses" for good reason.

now back to the mushy shit. it is a common occurrence for her to show off her "bonuses" to you and only you, sometimes showering you in paper money if she's really feeling herself that time, smarmy grin always present. nothing makes her feel better than a big win.

"Mama's rich for now, baby. Anything you want, name it and it's yours." she says while making it rain on you one day. she won't take no for an answer. she enjoys being a provider, even in shallow ways. she'll take you to the jeweler's, clothing stores, pawn shops, and buy you whatever you point to if she has enough to justify the purchase.

loves, positively adores watching you get excited over a necklace or tchotchke you'd been eyeing for weeks finally become your personal property. it makes her feel proud, makes her so happy to see your eyes light up. won't say that part aloud, but you can tell she loves it by the way she keeps giving you these shopping trips and the way she looks at you in these moments with uncharacteristically soft eyes and a wide smile.

while she was not really big on PDA when the two of you first started dating, she warmed up to it over time. and boy, did she. now she was the main initiator for such displays. you practically live in her lap, and she would not have it any other way. she loves how warm your body is, and when you're cold she loves being the one to warm you up, often letting her arm activate just so the heat of the metal can warm her poncho cape before she drapes it over your shivering shoulders.

& that's all i got for nowwww!!! hello sevika nation pls lmk if y'all would be interested in more in the near future :))

[diminuel]

Do you think Tritoma is crocodile or Crocodile is some how related to Tritoma 🤔

Hm, he probably wasn't Tritoma. You'd have to play with the timelines quite a bit to make it work since Tritoma is said to have died 13 years ago, when Crocodile was already well established as the Hero of Alabasta and pictures of his face were circulating. I'm not saying it's impossible because this is One Piece we're talking about. But it's not likely. Which of course doesn't stop me from playing around with Kuja Crocodile ideas ;3 I do with canon what I want! And of course Crocodile could still have been a Kuja, even related to Tritoma but it doesn't seem necessary. Him having been a Kuja seems fun enough *lol*

And I think any potential visual similarities between the two are predominantly owed to how Oda tends to draw pretty women? And considering how Oda pulled his female Law design into canon (even if just for a bit) we could expect a pre Iva Crocodile to have looked like this, though Croc in her 20s might have had looked a liiiiiiittle bit different. If Oda had wanted to hint as them being the same person, he might have borrowed from Croc's design a bit more heavily.

[obsessive-valentine]

The First Steps, Guided by Gentle Hands (PT 3)

Platonic Vampire Family + Fem!Reader - (Beaumont family saga)

Progress and Setbacks- You find yourself settling in and even enjoying some bits, including Dorian being a great big brother and the warmth of a mother. Though it isn't linear progress and you stumble during some parts. But don't worry, that's what parents are for -to steady you and help in their own ways. Part 3 to 5 Stages of Grief

The following months passed slowly, they weren't particularly unkind. You'd expected worse, to be honest, you settled quicker than you'd like to admit.

Lavinia is usually at your side or close by. The two of you became almost inseparable, Lavinia treating you with a motherly tenderness you hadn’t expected. But never fragile or demeaning, in fact, she encouraged questions and exploration -she was just there for your stability, not to shelter you or keep you captive.

Soren lets you grow comfortable, giving you space to settle and get used to a new routine. He'd make small talk when you're in the same room, but it never felt forced or pressuring. It was casual and kind, warm even.

Lucian is distant to but not the same kind-distant as Soren who's giving you space but is still there for you, this is a brooding-distant. If you caught his eye, he’d glance away with a scowl, or, on the rare occasion he lingered, his expression was unreadable—something guarded beneath the surface, like he didn’t know whether to see you as a stranger, an annoyance, or something else entirely. But he rarely made any verbal jabs, he knew better, where you are Lavinia or Soren are close by.

Dorian made up for his brother in spades though.

Dorian loves having a little sister, but more so a person who's fun and matches his energy. Don't get him wrong, it's not torture living with them, but they are a very formal and work-led family. Lavinia, ever soft for her sons, often played along with her dry wit, entertaining her wild child's antics. But those were just fleeting moments, and the other two are useless when understanding good comedy. This, however, is so much more fun, so much more human- games, laughing and getting in trouble.

-

There were games of cards sprawled out on the sitting room floor, stories told by firelight that had you snorting with laughter at Dorian’s theatrical gestures, and hours spent bent over your sketchbook beside you as he tried (and failed) to master the art of drawing. Your drawing book is now a patchwork of your steady drawings and Dorian's questionable scribbles.

“This is offensive,” he grumbled one afternoon, pointing to his attempt at a cat. It looked more like a misshapen potato with whiskers. “to cats everywhere. I should be ashamed.”

“You should,” you teased, stifling a giggle. “Poor Sir Whiskers. He deserves better.”

“Art critic and sibling tormentor?” He shook his head dramatically. “What have I created ?”

Your smile lingered even after the moment passed. It was a strange thought, but you were starting to feel a quiet sense of belonging here—especially around Dorian. He treated you as though you’d always been part of his life, his easygoing nature smoothing the sharp edges of your fears.

-

Lavinia often encouraged this unconventional form of bonding too. Once walking into the kitchen where you and Dorian were for one reason or another.

Except when she rounds the corner, she sees you both balancing spoons on your noses. She holds back a laugh at the absurdity that Dorian somehow convinced you into.

"Teaching her to balance a spoon on her nose? I'm sure Soren would approve." she raises an eyebrow.

Dorian doesn't remove the spoon to look at her, to focused. "It's a skill, mother. A very serious one, it's harder than it looks." he explains with a grin.

You pipe up though laughs -after dropping your spoon again, determined to get it right you pick it up-. "He says it's a significant motor skill. Apparently, it’s vital for survival."

Lavinia smiles, seeing you so relaxed and happy "Practical, then. Carry on."

The First Steps

But while life in this new family was slowly becoming no so strange, there were unkind 'events'. Often first steps are accompanied by stumbles-

The following months of adjustment weren’t linear. You struggled with the change—an identity crisis that seemed to gnaw at you in the quiet moments—and even the culture shock of living with the Beaumonts. Just as you felt like you were coming to terms with your situation, something new would pull the rug out from under you.

Drinking blood was the worst of it. Just when you thought you could settle, you had to face something that felt so foreign, so damning, that it brought back every fear and doubt. It was gross, wrong, and an impossible idea.

Having been raised in a traditional Victorian household, you likely held some sort of religious or superstitious beliefs too. That only made this so much harder to justify.

-

The first time Soren brought you the cup, you stared at it as though it might bite you. Lavinia sat beside you at the small table in a quiet room. Dorian sat lazily on a soft armchair not far, under the guise of reading a book, but his gaze was fixed on your face, trying to read your reactions. Your stomach churned, the smell of iron lingering faintly in the air.

“Better to start now,” Soren said, his tone firm but not unkind. He set the cup gently on the table in front of you, his hands steady. “It’s easier to manage this way before hunger makes it… harder.”

He straightens up, and his face softens at the sight of an unpleasant struggle they all had faced "Take your time, but you will drink some before you go to bed." He turns to leave, letting Lavinia handle this with her gentle nature.

But he pauses "This doesn’t define you unless you let it." A tense attempt at comfort. You wish it worked.

You sat in silence for a while after Soren left. Dorian broke the silence unable to sit in such a tense atmosphere.

“It’s stranger to think about it than to do it.” as though this were a completely ordinary conversation. “Once you start, it's just routine... instinct.”

“Dorian,” Lavinia murmured, though there was no real scolding in her tone.

“What?” He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s true.” But his face falls again when his attempt at lighting the mood fails, seeing you only tense up.

You wanted to glare at him, as your eyes began to burn and threaten tears, wanting to snap, but not able to take your eyes off the cup. How can you talk about this like it’s nothing? But your anger fell short. He’d been through this too. They all had. And now it was your turn. There was no getting around it, no more delaying.

Lavinia leaned in, drawing your attention back to her. “I know this feels impossible,” she said softly. “But it won’t ruin you. I promise you that.” The back of her gloved fingers gently brush over your cheek before stopping at your chin and holding it carefully between her index and thumb, forcing you to hold her gaze.

You blinked at her, tears burning the corners of your eyes. “How do you know?” Lavinia sighed at the sight of tears welling up, letting go of your chin to rub circles on your back.

“Because I’ve been where you are,” she said simply. “And I am still myself.”

Something about the certainty in her voice made your resolve falter. Lavinia—so calm, so strong—didn’t look wicked. She didn’t look lost. Maybe… maybe you wouldn’t either.

When you didn’t move, Lavinia stood, reaching for the cup and placing it carefully in your shaking hands. “Just one sip,” she said, her tone firm but kind. “That’s all I’m asking.”

You took as small of a sip as you could- And it was as awful as you were expecting, so foreign. The morality, the taste, the texture and the smell. But worst of all you hated that you weren't so hungry now, forced to confront that this is your way of life from now on.

Lavinia stood, smoothing her skirts before leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “That’s enough for tonight,” she murmured gently, her tone soft but brooking no argument. “Let’s get you ready for bed, sweet girl.” She placed a hand gently on your lower back, guiding your quiet, troubled self out of the room.

Your steps were slow, heavy with lingering unease, but before stepping into the hallway, you glanced back. Dorian sat where he’d been the entire time, unusually still—quieter than you’d ever seen him, almost forgetting he was there. His usual spark seemed dimmed as he watched you leave, his expression subdued.

He caught your gaze and offered a small, sad smile—an attempt at encouragement that didn’t quite land. It wasn’t pity, exactly, just the ache of watching someone he cared for fight battles he couldn’t help them win.

... Guided by Gentle Hands

You began getting glimpses of what life would look like when you finally settled in.

Soren took it upon himself to become a teacher, starting with history, though at first, it was subtle—nothing heavy, nothing overwhelming. He’d beckon you into his study, voice low but firm, and give you small tasks: 'read this chapter' 'tell me what you think about this passage' or 'write down your thoughts on that event'.

Soren understood better than anyone that boredom had a way of catastrophizing unpleasant thoughts, of spiralling them into something unbearable. It was practical, of course—he had always intended to educate you as thoroughly as he had Lucien and Dorian, and even Lavinia, though her education had been more self-initiated.

But at the heart of it, this was his way of looking out for you, by keeping your mind sharp and your heart steady so you wouldn’t lose yourself.

-

It was during your third week that he decided to begin. Your disorientation had started to wane, the constant aches dulling to an occasional discomfort, and you found yourself more active, less confined to bed and wandering the manor instead. You’d begun helping Lavinia with small tasks, rearranging shelves or folding linens, as though eager to distract yourself.

One particular night, when you were more restless than usual, Soren watched you quietly from the corner of his eye. The way you fidgeted and paced was all the indication he needed. After a few minutes, he stood, plucked a book off the shelf with deliberate ease, and turned toward you.

“Come with me to my study, child.” His tone left no room for argument, though there was no harshness to it—only purpose.

You followed him with confusion and trepidation, unsure of what to expect. The vastness of his study made you feel small at first—the towering bookshelves, the rich scent of old leather and parchment. But when you sat across from him, and he opened the book, it wasn’t as daunting as you thought.

The conversation began with history, his deep voice weaving stories of wars and treaties, discoveries and downfalls. -And it wasn’t long before the discussions turned, becoming less of a lecture and more of an interview.

“The tales say that vampires turn to ash in the sun,” you hesitantly said one evening, curiosity finally breaking through. “But Lavinia used to visit me during the day... that doesn't make sense.”

Soren gave a rare, almost amused look, his lips quirking faintly. “Those stories are highly inaccurate. We don’t turn to ash in the sun. It’s only irritating—burns, at the worst, if we’re careless.”

Another night, you leaned forward in your seat, bringing up another thought you had wondered about for a few days “You’re always so busy. Do Vampires have jobs?”

He inclined his head, choosing his words carefully. “The Beaumont name is very respected. That respect comes with responsibilities. It drags us into the political side of what you might call… the Vampire Court.”

“Vampire Court?” You echoed, both fascinated and wary of the term.

“Yes,” he replied, leaning back as though considering how much to say. “Though I’m afraid the details would bore you to sleep. Now, let’s return to the matter at hand.”

There was no mistaking the faint, teasing glint in his eyes as he steered you back to the lesson.

Soren didn’t seem to mind the curiosity. So one night, you dared to ask about his maker, your voice hesitant.

“Is your maker still alive?”

Soren paused, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Yes, he is. A very smart and serious man, though…” He glanced at you, allowing a dry, almost imperceptible humour to slip through. “Let’s just say it’s best to delay that meeting for a while. He lacks certain… refinements.”

It made you blink in surprise before you stifled a small laugh, and Soren let the moment rest there, as if it had never happened.

One night, you’d muttered about how cold you always felt, after he had asked you how the discomforts are fading. Soren had said nothing at the time, merely watching with that inscrutable expression he always wore.

From that evening on, when you woke at sunset, your fireplace was already lit, your room warm -meaning it had been for a while. You assumed Lavinia had been the one to light it, never questioning the habit.

It took weeks before you pieced it together that it wasn't the ever-attentive Lavinia lighting it for you -but Soren, who took on the task personally and routinely before Lavinia could even get to it.

...

Lavinia had always been the one to openly express her love for you. At first, she was careful—never smothering or overstepping boundaries you weren’t ready to cross. Her affection came out in sweet words and soft nicknames, in the way she always seemed close by, never far enough to leave you feeling alone. Acts of service were her strongest language of love: brushing and braiding your hair, tidying your room up and helping you do up ribbons, laces or clasps.

Slowly, as time passed, Lavinia allowed herself to do more, indulging you in the ways she had always wished to but held back. A daughter to spoil in ways her boys were either too old for or too boyish for.

Lavish clothes, jewellery handed down from her own collection, teaching you things that feel more like an excuse to bond than a lesson Soren would set up.

And then there was the bear-

Lavinia had felt, more than seen, that something was missing from your room. It was lovely, of course—she had ensured it was as comfortable and homely as a room could be, with soft wallpaper in delicate florals, plush sheets, downy pillows, and charming decorations. But as she saw more of your personality shining through—your curiosity, your humour, the flashes of humanity you were holding onto with everything you had—she knew the space didn’t yet reflect you.

It was beautiful, yes, but far too serious. Refined. Grown-up in a way that seemed wrong for someone so young (Physically and/or vampire age). She knew it would grow to be yours and be filled with personality and trinkets, that you would grow to love it as you did your old home.

But she felt you need that comfort and self-expression now more than ever, and so she resolved to change that, one gift at a time, that would increasingly become more and more tailored to your likes and comforts as they learned more about you.

The first one was a bear, a necessary comfort item for many humans. Not just any bear though, only the best. She sat at her desk one morning, as the sun rose and you slept. Writing a letter to an artisan in Russia who she'd met during one of their many travels abroad, she knew he was the person to create what she envisioned.

She spared no detail, describing what she wanted: a luxurious, sturdy bear, hand-stitched from the finest materials, with features cute enough to be loved for an eternity and stitching strong enough to endure just as long.

And when it arrived, carefully packaged, topped with a bow.

She lifts the bear out of the box—a beautiful, exquisitely made stuffed bear, with jointed limbs and cute face. Its fur is soft and plush. It’s stitched with fine care, its paws and ears trimmed with delicate embroidery. The bear’s eyes shine black like little onyx stones, and it wears a velvet ribbon around its neck with a small, silver charm hanging from it—a subtle mark of luxury and craftsmanship.

That evening, when you found it sitting carefully on your bed, your steps slowed as you entered the room. You stared at the bear for a long moment, your fingers brushing hesitantly over its fur before picking it up. It was heavier than you expected, sturdy and real—yours.

Lavinia’s voice broke the quiet, soft from where she stood in the doorway, coming in to put some of your clothes away. “A companion. He came all the way from Russia to keep you company.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide with wonder and confusion at such an extravagant gift. Lavinia didn’t linger on your hesitation, though, her tone light but full of warmth. “It is a very special gift, crafted by hand in Russia by a master artisan. One of a kind. But,” she added, with the faintest smile, “very sturdy. Created to be loved. So take care of him.”

She left it at that, continuing through your draws, finishing her task of putting clothes away as if the expensive gesture was nothing. Lavinia made no fuss about it, didn’t press you to show gratitude or admiration, not because the money was no biggie or it was simple compared to some of her precious items in her room -but because she knew she’d see her efforts rewarded in time.

And she did.

The bear never ended up on a shelf, where so many precious things might go to gather dust. No, it stayed right there—on your bed, within arm’s reach. It was too precious to put away, too yours to display as though it were just a decoration. This was the first thing in your new life that belonged to you and you alone, a token of care and thoughtfulness meant for no one else. Not out of necessity or practicality like clothes, but simply because Lavinia wanted you to have something special.

The bear became a constant presence—sometimes tucked under your arm as you slept, other times sitting proudly on your pillow when you woke. And it wasn’t long before you gave him a name, a fitting one that matched his origins, like Misha. Misha would be treasured by you for lifetimes to come.

-

-

-

Maybe this isn't so bad, maybe you can learn to accept this new -unconventional- family.

Lavinia and Dorian's consistent and open adoration, Soren's subtle but firm love and even Lucien's own form of caring that begins to show in small acts (but thats for another day).

[jediwrites]

slice of life: jedi edition ch.1

//Anakin Skywalker x Jedi Knight Reader

this is pure fluff and nothing more. (+1k)

warning: a lot of kissing and nonsense stuff that came out of my head

Your fingers brushed the soft curls of Anakin’s hair, his head resting in your chest, while his arms surrounded you. The sound of your calm heartbeat and the gentle cuddling was making the man fall asleep again. Unfortunately, the shy sun’s rays entering through the window indicated that soon you would have to part ways.

"Ani, you already gave a class to the Younglings, right?"

"Yeah… why?"

"Master Yoda asked me to take care of them this week." You said. “I’m trying to think about some things I can show them.”

Anakin stayed still for a moment, making you think he slept again. But without a warning, he tightens his arm around you, making a sound like he is straightening out. Laughing, you tried to push him off.

Anakin raised his head, one of his arms over your belly, while the other was supporting his body. Gazing at you, he gave you a faked pity look. “That’s a horrible thing to ask someone, doesn't he know that?” 

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s not that terrible.”

“If you say so.” He said with a sarcastic tone, burying his face in your neck, making you giggle. "If I remember right, I tried to tell them about my own stories, but they only wanted to know about lightsaber tricks."

His eyes got back to yours, a boyish grin plastered in his face. "Though I can't blame them for that, they know the fun part."

You snorted. "I don’t know about that, levitating things with your mind seems more fun." 

His lips curled, saying in a playful tone “Maybe you’re right”, before locking your lips together.

After some time, you and Anakin had to rise from the comfort of the bed. You finished putting your belt over your clothes and looked at him, his back to you while he picked up his tunic on the chair. You smirked, an idea passing though your mind.

“I was thinking-”

“No,” Anakin said flatly, putting on the tunic and turning to you.

“You don’t even know what I have to say,” you huffed, exasperated.

Crossing his arms, he gave you a look. “You don’t need to, I know exactly what you will say and my answer is no.”

“You clearly don’t.” You imitate his pose.

“Okay, so continue then.”

You got to him, putting your hands on his shoulder, feeling the man softening under your touch.

“I was thinking that would be perfect if you showed up.”

“No.” Giving a quick peck on your lips, he got out of your embrace, catching his robe and belt off the floor. 

“Come on, Ani,” you begged. “You are not that bad with children, they love you, it will be amazing.”

“I already had an experience with them worth a lifetime, darling, I don't want to repeat that.” He finished with his belt, and looked at you. “You’re asking for an impossible thing.”

“Fine.” You crossed your arms, with a little pout on your lips that made him chuckle.

He then stepped to you, pulling you by your hips and closing the gap between your lips.

It was now your time to melt under his touch.

You were standing at one of the windows of the Jedi Temple’s corridor, sight fixed at the skyline of speeders going on in the distance, the hurried pace of Coruscant seemed to be the same as your heart. Sighing, you gazed at the final of the corridor, expecting to see Master Yoda, but he was nowhere.

You shouldn’t be so nervous about having to take care of the Younglings — it would be only a few days, a break from the battlefield. However, to you, as a Jedi Knight, everything that involved teaching the Jedi Younglings — and Padawans —, seemed to carry a heavy weight to it. They are the future of the Order after all. 

Closing your eyes, you tried to ease your feelings, focusing on the warmth of the sun in your face. Inhale. Exhale. After some time you could only feel the Force through your body.

“This view is really beautiful, don’t you think?” Someone said behind you, getting you out of your meditation. 

Turning to the familiar voice, you got Anakin looking directly at you, a smile on his face. Grasping his comment, a smile emerges on yours, with your heart going back to the rapidly beating from early, but now for a different reason.

Before you could respond to him, a group of Jedi Padawans entered the corridor, making you stiffen in your positions, the warm smile fading away. Anakin sighed.

“I thought you were with the Chancellor,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“We will meet later today.” Anakin looks around. “So, where are they?

“Who?”

“The Younglings, I thought we would show them some lightsaber tricks.”

The sudden appearance of Anakin made you rapidly forget about your upcoming task. You arched your eyebrow. “We?”

“Well, I changed my mind.” He shrugged.

The group passed you two, some greetings were exchanged between you before they got going down the corridor until they were out of sight. Coming closer to you, Anakin whispered. “And to be honest, even if I find it terrible, what I wouldn’t do for you, hm?”

You crooked your head, a smirk appearing in your face. “Actually, there are things-”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “For the last time, I won’t let my beard grow.” 

The first time you said such thing, he shot you a look that you will always remember and laugh at. 

“Fine, your choice, but know that you are preventing all of us from witnessing a masterpiece.” Touching this matter seemed to get under Anakin’s skin for some reason, and you found it very funny. You strongly believed in your assumption, though. “And I said to let it grow when you get older, Master Kenobi is such a cute with that beard of his.”

The disbelief in Anakin’s face was noticeable, but before he could respond, a thud startled you. You stepped away hastily. Turning to where the sound came, you face Master Yoda, a bengal stick in his hand and a questioning look. 

“Master Yoda.” You shifted your gaze to your hands. “Hope the Younglings are fine for today.”

You hold yourself from cringing at your own words. You definitely could pretend better than that, but not with Yoda, it seemed. 

“Very excited they are, young one.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I come together, Master,” Anakin said, trying to ease the tension.

“He offered to help me today.” A smile brightened your expression again. “I clearly wouldn’t declined this kind offer.” 

Anakin playfully rolled his eyes, exchanging looks with you.

“A surprise, this is.” Yoda looked at the two young Jedi. “Skywalker coming back to work with the Younglings, had never thought I would see.”

“Sometimes it is good to give a second try.”

The older Jedi shotted him a smile. “Right you are, young Skywalker.”

A/N: after so many tries, i was finally able to write one of my ideas down. i didn't liked it that much (idk i feel like i dont know how to write anakin yet), but eh anyway :)) i tried to revise throughly this one before posting, but if you find any grammar mistake, please let me know. dividers are from this post.

[ro-bee]

Hi!

Could maybe say something more about your Goat Realm?

What is story of Puppy narinder here?

What heretics look like here and how are they behaviour? (I'm curious about it because I love these beans. I'm all ears to any littlest detail)

How other bishops look like?

And anyway anything. I'm all ears to all ramble!

Drink your water!

HELLOOO

It is time for the goatverse yap section ! Everybody cheers!!

Anyway little disclaimers :

1_ is very work in progress... Unfortunately all my focus is on those two gay furries and not much on the world so I don't have many drawings to show :(

2_ it's heavy... And I mean there are strong themes and stuff (I'm not gonna go in details here) ... You'll see it better when I finish one of my many projects but it will require a lot of time... Like a lot, sorry... Anyway :)

Goat's world is very harsh. Here we live by the philosophy of kill or be killed very often, despite that there are some people that manage to live in piece and tranquility (example: goat's family and people that don't venerate any specific bishops or that venerate Kiran)

The world is ruled by the 5 bishops (these design are still concepts expect our beloved wolf lol)

Four of them command on different regions, Kiran being the god of death rules the purgatory

He doesn't have many followers like his siblings but he prefers it like that, it doesn't really matter to him because people souls would end up to him anyway.

His siblings have more of an evil alineament, they use their godhood for bad often, taking entertainment on their followers pain. Kiran is the opposite and witnessing his followers suffering fills him with sorrow, that's why he always gives his followers a painless death, is the last he can do for them... After all their souls gives him power :)

Anyway I think I already explained kiran's plan here , tldr bro is sad people suffer so he thinks that killing everything is a good solution

A little thing I want to add to kiran's backstory thing (idk):

I think that unfortunately we're not gonna have a ratau in this world, since Kiran's objective is to get rid of pain with putting everyone's soul to rest I think he won't let any previous vessel go away after failing (I'm not doing this because I hate ratau, he's my dad I love him so much)

So goat had no guide in what they were doing

Heretics here are just like regular heretics(?), if you wanted to know more about their design unfortunately I don't have anything with them :( I have some sketches in the comic I'm working on but I need to keep it as a surprise

Most of them are just regular people that want to survive...

Talking about people who want to survive:

Goat wasn't always this fucked up in the head, this whole deal changed them for the worst. Before the crown they lived a normal peaceful life with their family, when they lost everything they were forced to learn how to fight back to survive. So they spent many years running away and fighting back, they felt terrible at first but then it started to feel normal, almost enjoyable. Getting the crowns powers made killing people fun for them so yeah lol this is the evolution of goat going from calm Lyra player to killer machine, they have a loooooot of anger issues lol.

About the bishops... I'm currently drawing them better and they still have no name right now...

Their personality is the opposite of the canon one basically

The leshy is calm less impulsive

The geko is a prudent and a bit coward

The kraken is fearless and violent

The scorpion is ruthless and impulsive

Kiran is their older brother and loves them very much!! the feeling is not very mutual but anyway :)

I need to work a little bit more on them ngl

Aaaand I think this is all? Hmm idk feel free to ask more :)

[imagionationstation]

12 Donnie 🎲

🎲 -> The most unlucky day

Leo's surprised when Donnie joins him.

He looks dead on his feet when he trudges into the kitchen. That's not surprising. It's almost four in the evening. He's up earlier than he normally is. He slumps onto a chair, laying his head in his arms and looking off at the wall, and Leo tries to recall when he last slept.

His sleep schedule had actually been doing better over the past few weeks. Leo watched him go to bed the day before. He'd been smiling as he did, helping Raph tease Mikey about the horror film that they'd watched. The eye bags were not this massive.

He contemplates saying something, but he's too tired to interrogate him over whether or not he actually slept. He'll save it for when Donnie makes it a weekly endeavor.

But, he might as well- 

"There was no nightmare." Donnie announces, sudden enough that Leo almost spills the tea. Dull gaze lingers on the neon sign. "Yes, my eye bags are heavy. Yes, I should head back to bed. No, I'm not going to. And no, I don't want to talk about it."

The building conversation sputters out.

Leo pours his drink. Donnie doesn't move.

Since his brother is clearly feeling moody, Leo decides to excuse himself to focus on more pressing matters. Namely-

"Can I join you?"

Leo looks at his younger brother. He doesn't look back.

Donnie admits, "I know you're going to watch Space Heroes and I know you got up this early so you didn't have to deal with us, but can you please make an exception?"

"Um." Leo's tempted to deny him, but he sounds so... Defeated. Wait. How did he know that? Leo never told them. He was always meditating by the time that they came out. He was careful. 

Double wait. Is he misinterpreting Leo's mornings of peace as avoidance? Sure, maybe they were a little avoidy, but not like that.

"Sure." He agree awkwardly. "But-"

"No negative commentary. No fun facts. No interruptions of any kind." Donnie hauls himself to his feet. His looks at Leo and the leader notices his reddened eyes before he turns away. "I know."

Leo's concern mounts. He follows him out of the kitchen. The tea is left forgotten on the counter.

He expects him to find a place on the couch to collapse, so he goes to claim his own area. He does not expect him to go to his room, come back with a blanket, and drop himself against Leo's shoulder in a suspiciously cuddly fashion.

His knees are tucked close to his body, arms closed in a self-hug. Up close, his younger brother looks pale. For more pale than he'd been the night before, worn down by an unexplained enemy. It makes the bags under his eyes bigger than he originally thought.

Leo watches at him. Donnie looks numbly at the tv.

Captain Ryan heroically proclaims the adventure of the episode as Leo sets the back of his hand on his younger brother's forehead. It's not warm. Donnie leans into the touch. Leo slowly removes it, and Donnie follows it momentarily.

He blinks, the haze gone, and pulls back.

Okay, that's it.

"Donnie," He says, cool. "What's going on?"

"I should have chosen Raph." His younger brother tells the tv. "At least he'd have given me a few hours."

"Too bad." Leo tries to meet his eyes, "You're stuck with me and if you don't tell me what's going on-"

"It's a time loop."

Leo pauses, "Excuse me?"

"I stopped counting a while ago." Donnie's tone is even, recited. "It resets every night at midnight. Renet won't tell me how. She can't tell me why. I lost track of days. I used to tell you guys. You never believe me. None of you eher bulieve me."

His voice stutters, wet with quiet sob. He inhales, shakily, repressing the weakness. “Y-You keep going out. You keep dying. I’d tell you not to go and you’ll go anyway. Someone has to die out there. Someone always has to die.” 

Alarm has Leo swallowing, heart pounding as his hand instinctively comes up to brace his brother. Donnie won’t look at him. “I thought it would be easier if it’s me. I thought maybe once it was me it would end. It didn’t end. I woke up!” 

His voice shatters. Leo furrows his brows, feeling less than half awake. The tv is too fuzzy to watch so he looks back at his brother, “I don’t understand.”

“You can’t.” Donnie admits. “No matter how many times I tell you… You can’t.”

Leo stares at him. Donnie pleads, “I can’t watch you die again.” 

Something deep in his being softens, recollecting old moments where a much smaller Donnie would invade his bed when his brain got a bit to much for him to handle on his own. He watches his eyes as they’re cloaked with tears and brushes his thumb against his arm. “It was just a nightmare.”

“It’s not.” His voice drops into a whisper. “It’s not. It’s not.” 

“I can prove it.” Leo prompts gently. He’s seen how bad his brother’s stress dreams can get. Not to mention the repetitive ones. Leo personally knows that those are always the worst.  “We’ll go out tonight. A quick patrol.”

“I want it to end. I want it all to end.”

“They won’t last forever.” He presses as images flit by on the screen. He’s missing the episode. “You’ll get through it.”

“I thought it would end if I was the one to die.” Donnie's voice goes flat, contemplative. “Maybe I also need to be the one doing the killing.”

“Hey,” Leo cuts in, startled. “Hey, hey, don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. You’ll get through this. That’s never the answer.” 

“I’m so tired of being mad at you.” Donnie presses further against Leo’s shoulder. He blinks, hazily, trying to remember why Donnie might be mad. What did he do this time? “I can’t keep hating you and then watching you die.”

Oh. Nightmare Leo. Right. 

“Gee.” He roll his eyes, fondly. “Good to know you’re consistent, at least.”

He turns up the volume, relaxing onto the cushions, leaning into his brother’s heat.

“I love you.” Donnie breathes, abruptly. “I don’t think I told you that yet. You’re a good big brother. A really good one. Even when you drive me nuts. You’re really great. A-and you try so hard for us. I know you do. There’s so much I need to thank you for-”

“As much as I’d love a long list of reasons that I’m great,” Leo murmurs, taking note of the wild burst of tremors. “You’re freaking yourself out. And that’s admittedly freaking me out. We can talk about this later, okay? When you’re less frazzled.” He wraps his free arm around him, rubbing the blanket. “I should have respected you when you asked me not to the first time.”

Donnie wipes at his eyes, “Okay. Yeah. That’s- that’s what I wanted.”

He sniffs. Leo suggests, “How about you get some more sleep? You look tired.”

“I’m dead tired.” Donnie agrees, sounding the part. He closes his eyes, beginning to nod off instantly, only to violently gasp back in consciousness. He doesn't even give Leo a chance to ask.

“Once I fell asleep and you left without waking me up. You have to promise that you won't do that again. You have to. Please?” Donnie tilts his head, scanning his expression desperately. “Please?” 

“I won’t leave you behind.” Leo sighs because it’s so not fair that his brothers are able to pull on his heart strings like this. “You don’t gotta worry about me.” 

He laughs, short and brief, but it doesn’t sound happy.

Leo tries to grasp the joke.

Donnie lets his eyes close, curling into Leo as he does. His older brother tucks the blanket further up his shoulders, leaning his cheek against his forehead. Absently, he wonders how someone so tall could make himself so small. 

“I love you,” Donnie whimpers, barely audible.

Leo smiles, grateful that he made an exception, just this once.

“Love you too, little brother.” 

Awe how completely and utterly fluff. Just two bros sharing some nice bonding time 💙💜 Nothing else happening here.

[tricksh0t]

★ Rock and Salt

☾ theon greyjoy x top m reader

cw: mentions of r*pe but no actual r*pe because this is the Ironborn we're talking about, corruption, very subby theon, cunt as a name for asshole, spanking, begging, mean reader, edging (once), cheating

"My love." A man takes Yara's hand, kneeling down before her to kiss her knuckles, a suspiciously courtlike gesture.

"Betrothed." Yara returns a smile.

Theon eyes the union suspiciously. Yara's smile is too sweet, and the gesture as well. His father moves to make an introduction, bitter as his voice is, "Theon, this is your sister's promised. You'd do well to–"

To be like him or be nice to him, Theon doesn't know, for he doesn't care to listen. Over the table, the two of you lock eyes.

It is said that Iron men are so thirsty for cunts that they pillage and rape just to gain another salt-wife. Not even that, it's a well known fact that they pillage and rape just for the chance of having a new cunt.

You know well, though, that the Ironborn wouldn't be nearly as much a threat if they learned to have a taste for their brothers-in-arms, and that is the tamest thing about you.

Theon Greyjoy, below you, is someone you're about to share your knowledge with; and by the looks of it, he's already taken by the idea.

His eyes are rolled back, oh, what a sight.

Where you don't rape, you do pillage, and alongside that, you corrupt. You're still Ironborn, and this right here is your Prince of the Iron Islands, almost the heir, if it weren't for his disappearance and also for your betrothed.

He was fun to break in, and really, it wasn't much of a fight. You've broken in larger men. Only goes to show just how Stark Theon's blood is.

Although, that only makes him much more fun to fuck.

You pull out, to which Theon whines, only to spit on his hole and watch it gape. "You've such a pretty cunt, Theon."

"'S not a cunt." Theon slurs, and despite that, he spreads his legs wider just to make it easier for you to play with him.

You click your tongue, turning the prince over and splaying him over your lap. Theon gasps, and the breath turns into a wail as you splay your hand over his asscheek in a spank. "It's a pretty cunt."

"Yes." Theon concedes breathlessly. He's not a very persistent, is he? So pliable, but perhaps only for you.

You shove two fingers roughly inside him and he moans. You wonder how prettily he'd groan if they scissored him dry, but alas, he was already stretched and oiled. His cunt almost gurgled and leaked with how much oil and spit he'd begged you to use. Soon enough, he'll learn how to take you the way he was born.

Your fingers curl into his prostate, and Theon moans so loud it's almost a screech. "Say, prince," it's mocking, on your tongue, "how fares this to cunts?"

"What?" Theon asks weakly, he pushes his palms against the bed, but you push the top of his back down, turning his intentions half-accomplished as his ass is pushed up into your fingers. He chokes back a moan.

"Cunt or cock?"

You hadn't expected any less from him as he replies, "Cunt."

You click your tongue anyway, as if he's truly upset you. The flinch you get in return is proof enough that he's fallen for it.

"Yours–" He says, before you can speak, "yours is better than any cunt."

His pitiful attempt at pleasing you is only rewarded with a spank from you, followed swiftly by a caress to his prostate. Pleasure and pain mingle. "My what?"

"Your cock." He says in a gasp.

"Yeah? Tell me why."

"It's–your cock, it's big." It's not enough of a compliment, evidently, as you deliver another swift spank. "It's good! Fuck, you know how to use it. It's thick, and fuck, I love the vein."

You haven't, thankfully for him, made him suck nor jerk you off, so then that only leaves the shape of it in his ass as a method to know the feeling of the prominent vein on your dick. He's got a tactile cunt. How hilarious.

You can't help but laugh.

Theon whimpers. Between the laugh and your still fingers, you don't know why he whimpers until he whines about it, "Why are you laughing?"

A third finger makes him lose that thought. "Don't worry about it."

"'Bout what?"

"Yeah, that's right." You shake your head, working your fingers in and out of him. He's already loose, you've already stretched and fucked him open, but you can't get over the sight of your fingers getting sucked into his virgin cunt.

Theon, on the other hand, knows better things. Really, he'd just described it to you. "Please."

"No," Another spank, less harsh. You can't blame him for desiring your cock. "no, Theon, that can wait."

He goes down without a fight, chest slumping into the bed while his ass only rises higher. It's rather pathetic, really, that he doesn't fight for it; though it only goes to show how much you've tamed the spoiled, in your perception, Prince of Winterfell. "Not going to fight for it, Theon?"

Theon swallows back a whimper, shaking his head against the sheets. "You're only goin' ta hit me."

"Aw," You coo, tracing your free hand down his spine. You can almost see the way his body racks with shivers. "tell you what, prince. You beg well, and I'll let you cum."

You can see him hesitate. His legs shift, and his fingers let go of the sheets at the sides of his head.

"Please." He finally says, but it's too short and not sweet.

He earns a spank, and that has his next words gushing out like blood spill. "Please, I wanna finish so bad, please, let me cum."

You never told him how you'd get him off. Your hand wraps around his dick, and though it's not what he wanted, who's he to complain?

Your fingers and hand work him up in tandem, but just once isn't enough. "Keep talking."

"I want it so bad." Theon's quick to beg, practically wails. "Please, please, please."

He's cute when he begs. You imagine tears might be welling up in his eyes right now.

You work him up as he blabbers continuously. The fingers in his cunt curl and scissor, while the hand around his cock jerks him off; both are steady, consistent. When your hand pauses, your fingers continue. It's an assault of pleasure, never giving him pause and never working him down, only up to his peak.

He's ready, legs trembling, knuckles white as they grip the sheets. He really, really, wants to cum.

"Please."

Aside, or perhaps complimenting, his begging, his moans are pretty too. They grow louder. Perhaps if the Iron Castle wasn't segmented or instead one whole, you'd be found out.

What a sight, hm? The King Consort-to-be and the long lost Prince, all in the same day they're introduced.

Perhaps you'd have sought him out and brought him home yourself if you knew just how pliable he was.

His next moan is prolonged, his hips instinctively bucking into your hand. He's close.

But you're cruel.

"Fuck! Fuck." Theon hisses, pants, as you deny him, pulling both your hands away from him. "No, no, no, please."

"You're going to have to do a whole lot more than that, prince."

In his mind, he asked nicely. He deserved it. Of course he wanted nothing more than to cum—despite his Stark upbringing, he's Ironborn through and through. That's something you learned easily: Ironmen are ruled by their cocks. "Please, I'll do anything."

"What do you have to offer?" You reply with a scoff. As far as you know, you're the first man who's graced Theon Greyjoy with his cock. "You don't know how to ride nor how to suck cock. You've nothing but your blood in the Iron Islands. You have nothing to offer."

"I'll be yours." Theon presses his forehead against the mattress, you can see it. He's rearing back the ugly head of his pride. "This...cunt will be yours."

"Are you supposing I take you for a salt husband, Theon?"

Theon turns his head, laying the side of it on the mattress to look at you. "Yes."

The two of you lock eyes.

𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘩0𝘵 ⛥ is this a bad time to admit i wanna fuck the onion knight?

[xoxoavenger]

could i request a barista au charles xavier x reader fic?? 🤭 with him being all flirty every time the reader orders something 🫣 love ur writing!!

ahh thank you! this was so much fun to write I hope you like it <3

Early Morning Coffee Date

pairing: Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader

word count: 1618

warnings: none

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

"What can I get started for ya?"

Y/N looks up from her purse to see who's talking to her. Yes, she was in line for her local coffee shop, but she knew all the baristas that worked at 7:30 AM on weekdays. And she would definitely remember this man, with his British accent and bright eyes.

"You're new?" She asks, and then wants to hit herself. Why can't she just order?

"Yes." He laughs, his accent making her heart skip a small beat. Small. "But don't worry, I worked at Starbucks before this, so I promise I can make whatever crazy concoction you think of." He smiles, and she wishes today was a good day so she could order something crazy, just to tease him.

"Well, I totally would put your knowledge to the test, but I forgot my wallet." She says with a grimace, because of course the day she meets a cute barista she forgets her goddamn money. She doesn't have time to go back to her house before work, so she'll just have to hope that she doesn't need it again today. She's lucky she can walk to work and doesn't have to take the Subway, like most New Yorkers.

"If you order something easy, it's on the house." He says, and she smiles, mouth widening in shock.

"I can't let you do that." She says, looking at the line forming behind her. "I'll just have to survive with the break room coffee." She said it without a shudder, but the barista clearly knew the break room coffee tasted a little like mold no matter how much she washed the pot.

"I cannot let you do that." He says, shaking his head. "Please, miss, there's a line now. If you don't tell me what you want to order, I will be forced to make you something random that you may not want." He says it with a smirk and shrug, and she feels her heart pick up agin.

"Fine," She says, fighting to keep the smile away. She gives him her usual order, and he takes it down on a cup.

"And what's the name for that order?" He asks, giving her a look that lets her know that he is asking for more than just the order.

"Y/N." She answers, searching for the barista's name tag. "I'm sorry, but you don't seem to have a name tag." She informs him, and he just smirks.

"You'll have to come back tomorrow, I guess." He says with a wink. "I will personally make your drink, Y/N. And I'd love to hear any criticism, as it seems you come here a lot." He says as he moves away from the register, despite the line that is still very much there.

"Charles!" Cass, one of Y/N's barista regulars yells. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Get back on register." She rolls her eyes, and Y/N smiles as Charles' cheeks heat.

"Charles," She repeats, and the barista nods. "Well, now I have no reason to come back." She jests, even though she knows the people behind her must absolutely hate her.

"You still haven't tried my drink. And I know you want to." She cannot deny the way her heart is racing now, especially with how she can feel her cheeks heating up.

"You're right." She gives in, knowing she needs to say goodbye. "Thank you, Charles. Hopefully I'll see you soon." He winks at her as she leaves, and she can't help but widen her eyes as she turns away.

Was that hot barista just flirting with her?

~

"Cass, good morning." Y/N greets the next day. She can see Charles working the espresso machine, and even though she does want to try his drink she also really wanted to talk to him again. She wants to be angry about the crush she's already developed on him, but seeing him working makes her realize that it's basically hopeless. He's hot and nice, which is high expectations in the world they live in.

"Y/N!" Cass greets, seemingly more excited than she's ever been that Y/N's here. "Charles, your customer." Cass turns, and Charles pauses everything to turn and see Y/N. She forgets all about the 'your customer' part of Cass' sentence, which she had been meaning to revisit.

"Hey!" He sounds so excited, and Y/N's surprised by this. "You came back."

"She comes every-"

"I needed to taste your drink." Y/N cuts Cass off, because she wants Charles to feel special. She would have come today anyway, yes, but she also really wanted to try his concoction.

"Yes!" Charles calls, starting to pull a shot. "Cass, don't put this one in. I'm making a special one." He winks before going to work. Y/N immediately shakes her head.

"No, no, please, let me pay." Y/N pulls out her wallet.

"You heard him." Cass shrugs. "Now, please step aside. There's a line." She smiles, and Y/N thanks them before moving away. She doesn't have to wait long by the counter before Charles is there, on her side, holding a hot drink.

"What are you doing?" She asks, looking over to the espresso machine. Someone else is working it in his place, and Y/N turns back at him with a smile.

"I was hoping you had ten minutes? I'm on my break." She's so shocked, because how is this cute guy asking her to talk on his break? "Or maybe you have work, which is fine. I should have figured." He sounds dejected, and as he turns Y/N grabs his arm.

"Don't walk away with my coffee." She says with a small smile. "You got my drink out so fast, I think I have a couple minutes to spare." Charles' face lifts, and she feels her heart skip.

She's so whipped.

~

Of course, Y/N gets sick the next day.

They had talked about everything, from what brought them to the city to what their favorite color was to their favorite childhood tv shows. Y/N was late for work, which she blamed on a headache, and then somehow she manifested it into actually having a headache which she hoped taking a nap at home would cure. The next morning, she woke up with a stuffy nose and a sore throat.

She debated going into the coffee shop, but decided against it, as she didn't want to get anyone sick. So she sits at home for two days, reads her book and watches an entire season of her show while she tries not to think about the coffee shop - about Charles.

It's a weekend when she finally goes in - late, because she couldn't bring herself to wake up early on a weekend even if it meant seeing Charles. She walks into the shop as quick as she can without trying to look like she's rushing and then looks at the people behind the counter as she gets in the long line.

No Charles.

She thinks about leaving, heart falling traitorously. But she talks herself out of it before the idea fully forms, because it sounds stupid. Maybe he's on a break. But by the time she makes it to the front of the line, she realizes that he's still not here.

"Hey, Y/N!" Erik, the cashier today, says, and Y/N smiles, because it's nice that people know her. "Do you want your usual?" He asks with a smirk, and Y/N is just about to answer when someone comes up next to Erik and slightly pushes him out of the way.

"I've got this handled." Charles sends a glare to Erik, so fast Y/N barely registers it, before he smiles at Y/N. "I know what you like. You're good to go." He winks, and Y/N can feel her cheeks start to heat.

"You can't keep giving me free drinks." She says with a small smile, biting her lip to keep it small.

"Multiple offenses? Charles!" Erik says, sounding scandalized, and Y/N feels the heat spread to her neck.

"Go ahead and take someone else's order, Erik." Charles says, before smiling once more at Y/N and walking back to the espresso machine to make the drink.

"You're one special gal." Erik tells her with a smirk. "Have a good day, Y/N." She bids him the same as she walks away, knowing the line needs to continue moving. She goes over to the side of the counter and watches Charles work, waiting for her drink, which clearly has been moved to the front of the line by the way Charles is already done and walking over to her with a smile stretched across his face.

"I was worried when you didn't show up the past few days." He tells her as he leans over the counter to talk. She takes a sip of her drink, which somehow tastes better than the first time.

"I was sick." She says, heart fluttering.

"And here I was thinking your boyfriend found out about our long talk." He smirks, and her stomach did a flip.

"I don't have a boyfriend." She said, taking another sip of her drink.

"Hm," Charles looks down, then grabs her free hand. "Would you want one?" He looks up at her, and her mouth went dry.

He's asking her out. She needs respond because he's asking her out.

"Possibly," She finally says, taking his hand. "If the right man were to ask." She can't help but tease him.

"Well, what are you doing tomorrow?" He asks, and she smiles.

"Probably going out with my boyfriend." She puts her coffee down and leans against the counter, close enough to put the ball in his court.

"Perfect." He smiles back, and then leans in to kiss her across the counter.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @thefandomplace @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch

[henke-penke]

gonna add to this

Walk Like An Egyptian

Eva goes under the pyramid and joins the Owen-Noah-Izzy group, as to be expected. When faced with the "real" mummy she'd naturally want to fight it ("What did you do to Izzy" type beat) to which Owen declares something like "I don't want you to die" and drags both her and Noah out of the pyramid.

(Cut to an Eva confessional where she specifies the only one who would've died in there would've been the mummy.)

Without Duncan, Courtney can't do her belay and has to climb freestyle. Gwen will make a comment on this, maybe intending for it to be a light and harmless jab, but Courtney won't take it that way which leads to them arguing.

Teams stay the same, only difference being the addition of Eva. Courtney and Gwen also cross the finish line arguing, and are beyond pissed to learn they're on the same team.

(Though, not really. It's more them already knowing it's going to be a disaster, especially given the rest of their teammates)

Rest of the episode plays out roughly the same. Izzy and Sierra swap teams, Team Victory loses and Ezekiel is eliminated. However, because they have Eva who is a powerhouse, I'm going to say Team Chris wins the first challenge.

Super Happy Crazy Fun Time Japan

Since Team Chris and Amazon have swapped traveling class, Heather takes a moment to talk one-on-one with Leshawna, likely out in the common area for some privacy, where she'll voice her suspicions of Alejandro ("I don't trust anyone here but I know your smart"). Leshawna might agree that Alejandro is a bit too friendly, but at the same time will make note that, in the game, she can't outright trust Heather.

It's like, I see what you're talking about, but I'm not gonna jump on anything just yet because your track record is kinda whack.

Heather will pretend not to care (she does, she's a lil hurt but I think deep down she understands) but say something like "but you'll keep an eye out, right?" to which Leshawna says she will. They go back to economy class, but the camera lingers to reveal a certain somebody who's been eavesdropping; Alejandro.

Rest of the episode plays out the same, and the win goes to Team Amazon.

Now, here's the thing, Team Chris and Victory being in economy together was important because it laid the foundation for Alejandro's manipulation of Harold, showing us the audience the information he gathered based on observation. Here it has to be different, so I'm leaving those moments sprinkled into the first part of the challenge.

Eva will go in the pinball so that Alejandro can do his spying, which he'll explain in a confessional. Because Eva won't have the same dynamic with the panda, Team Victory will win the first part of the challenge. Alejandro will congratulate them, focusing primarily on Harold to build-up his ego.

(This is what first puts him on Eva and Noah's radar.)

Anything Yukon Do, I Can Do Better

Effectively the same.

Team Amazon arguing in first class with Heather and Courtney butting heads on who should be team leader, Gwen insisting they don't need one. And then Sierra gets involved, pointing out how it was Cody who won them the previous challenge. Heather, in need of votes in her favor, will agree and suggest Sierra as team leader instead.

(Sierra confessional where she clarifies she knows Heather is using her, but that's something Heather doesn't need to know.)

In economy we get perspectives from both Eva and Leshawna. The latter is considering what Heather told her, while the latter is fixating on Alejandro's talk with Harold. (This is where we get Eva being all "but I can't go around making enemies left and right, that didn't do me any good last time. Maybe I should, I don't know, talk with Owen? He knows people better than I do.")

Eva-Owen friendship moment where he'll unknowingly vouch for Alejandro's "facade", specifically calling him a good leader which will resonate with Eva, as that is what she wishes to be.

Broadway, Baby!

Eva doing her best to be friendlier to varying levels of success. At some point, most likely at the turtle pond, Noah will pull her to the side and ask her about it. The explanation is that she's trying to be less threatening and more of a team-player, perhaps referencing her talk with Owen.

(Not entirely sure what Noah's response to this would be, so I might just have the conversation be cut-off by the carriage sabotage, however that will happen in this universe.)

Alejandro will still figure out Heather has Sierra on her side and will still get her to fangirl over Chris. BUT, this time we're given a confessional. ("Problem, Heather thinks she can use me to get to Chris. Solution? Pretend to have been manipulated by the new guy. I get a strong player off my back without gaining a target. Win-win!")

This is not the only thing Alejandro will do, however. Because of Heather and Leshawna's talk, he'll be working on improving his self-image and subtly antagonizing Heather. Most likely dropping a line in the style of "This may be a competition for a million dollars, but that is no reason for us to behave uncivilized. Besides, it'd do me no good if I won the money through cheap tricks and mockery."

Same winning order as in canon.

Fuck it,

World Tour but with Eva instead of Duncan !!!

Some plot points I conjured up while procrastinating my illustration

Eva ends up on Team Chris Is Really Really Really Really Hot.

She's almost immediately wary of Alejandro, but will write it off since she's not good with people, so it's likely just her reading into things wrong.

However, this changes in Germany, when Noah makes note of his own suspicions.

Owen is the one medically evacuated in Jamaica.

Team E-scope wins the challenge in London, and because there is no Duncan to capture, Team Amazon loses. And realistically, Heather would be voted out, sad but true

This means that Alejandro is in a bit of a situation, because Noah and Eva are both onto him and they along with Izzy have the majority vote on their team. (Which, they've technically had since day one, but Alejandro wasn't aware of their suspicions of him prior, he didn't see it as a threat)

His best strategy is then to take away that advantage. Because of his interaction with Izzy in the Paris episode, I'm going to say that Alejandro manages to convince her to vote herself, and Izzy leaves in Area 51.

Because of this Team Chris now has to stay on a winning streak where Eva and Noah will try their damn hardest to get Tyler to vote with them. Which will be a fucking task because he and Alejandro are friends.

And quickly for the Amazons. Because there's no Duncan, Courtney and Gwen can properly establish a friendship. Absolutely not without a handful of hiccups along the ride, but it'll be much more stable without him being there and they can actually talk out any issues they may have.

If we're rolling with the canon of Team Victory being eliminated in the first half of the season, then the players making the merge will be; Alejandro, Eva, Noah, Tyler, Courtney, Gwen, and Sierra (Cody is eliminated in Australia I have my reasons trust). Which means that with the addition of Blaineley, we get an f/f couple in the wedding challenge hell yeah !!

Oh and Eva makes final four because she's awesome like that

[izzy-b-hands]

Putting on last year's trans rigs stream from Drawfee before i have to get ready to go out with my mum and her bf today (bc i have the worst feeling in my gut he's gonna make that An Thing for me if given the chance today, aka whenever i eventually need the restroom while we're at Mystic)

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

main take aways from Halloween (1978) rewatch:

michael myers is canonically 21??? this bitch should be at the club

*sees tiddies* ***MURDEROUS RAMPAGE NOISES***

that's it that's the movie

outside of the fact that everyone who has sex is murdered by the narrative, this is a surprisingly chill portrayal of female sexuality? these teen girls are horny and actively enjoying Getting It On with their boytoys. no pushy boyfriends sneaking in through their bedroom windows--these ladies are taking the initiative to sneak out and GET SOME. one of them gets laid and then immediately orders her boyfriend to get her a beer. (yes she gets Slashered soon afterward, but so does the boyfriend so honestly, gender equality.) yes the Final Girl is the only one not having sex, but she's not bullied for that, nor are her friends slut shamed except possibly by being murdered by the narrative

actually the only character who is shown being morally condemned on-screen is michael myers. specifically FOR his violent overreaction to other people's sex lives. (people he is spying on). metaphorically, the villain is American Puritanism sticking its judgy nose into other people's business.

aka Michael Myers Is A Republican

but actually the real villain is the doctor. guy's a judgemental, shaming, pathologizing asshole. and he's been in charge of michael's care since he was SIX YEARS OLD? kid never had a chance. i'd go on a killing spree too

also the parents. where are the parents? it's halloween night and all the teenage girls are home babysitting their younger siblings? come to think of it, michael's first victim was his own older sister, whom he killed while she was babysitting him. teen girls are really shouldering a labour burden here. maybe parentification is the true villain

side note: mike commits his first murder wearing a clown costume...which is never referenced again? his 'iconic' costume is a generic mask and wig and jumpsuit, when we coulda had a Killer Clown Michael Myers??? travesty

i like how the Final Girl and her friend casually smoke weed in her car. yeah she's an honor student and her friend is the sheriff's daughter. yeah they smoke weed. so what it's 1978

(to reiterate, mike is 21 and should be at the club. im not saying he shouldn't be rampaging, im saying it's sad that he broke out, tasted freedom for the first time in his life, and immediately snuck back into his childhood home to go rampaging. let's have a remake where he goes to a nightclub and has a few beers. maybe some slutty dancing. then rampage)

oh no he's hot

[slymanner]

Look all I'm saying is if that a shadow game can work THAT well and be so well designed story wise and gameplay wise

HE can work

[deadheaddaisy]

So anyone who follows me knows I am 100% a SatoReed shipper. But knowing this @pearlypairings and @more-better-words raised this possibility, and I've got to say, I can see it. It'll never replace my OTP - which really only kicks into gear in hypothetical Season 5 in my fics anyway - so let me brain dump on y'all.

Talas is a woman who knows what she wants, and as much as she's using Reed to get to the sphere, she's unlikely to be your standard honeypot operative. She's Andorian; while sex is nothing to be ashamed of, it's also not to be used lightly. She's unlikely to sleep with someone who doesn't interest her. And let's be real, Malcolm is very interesting to a soldier of her caliber.

OP is right; it's the one time on the show where Reed is shown as completely relaxed around a woman in whom he's interested. (Yes, he's completely relaxed around Hoshi outside of the enchiladas scene; they have incredible chemistry right from the frostbite scene, they really riff off and get each other, there were lots of little clues that more was brewing - but it never actually turned into anything on-screen.) So it's entirely plausible that Reed and Talas would have made one hell of a power couple if she hadn't been using him to get to the sphere.

I do think that if Talas had slept with Malcolm, she would have been ashamed of deceiving him. I don't think she's built to be a spy; she's a soldier and she doesn't like playing games (and neither did Shran, both likely feeling that it impugned their honour). I can get behind Reed & Talas hooking up and simply enjoying each other with the understanding that they weren't planning a relationship, but it being more fun than a standard one night stand.

There would very likely have been a meeting of minds and spirits - military backgrounds, both trained and skilled in intelligence and security work, both tactical officers on their respective starships, dedicated to their work and their crews, ready to do whatever they must to safeguard their species, but ready to work together to achieve their goals. Giving up their honour and ethics with a struggle and then only because it's what's needed for their missions to succeed, but not happy about it.

And let's be real, they are both freaking hot AF under those uniforms.

I think Talas' ulterior motives rattled her because she wasn't expecting to respect Reed as much as she did. She might have gone in with an attitude of, a one-night-stand with a soldier, okay sure, if nothing else she gets a decent lay out of it - and then she meets this man who's very much like her, and like Shran, dedicated and intense, a man of integrity - and it becomes more complicated than a simple honeypot.

And looking at relationships, he's not with anyone, there's no cheating, so why the hell not? He's a lot more relaxed and comfortable around Talas than he is with the Viznian (?) woman, the Orions, T'Pol during pon farr (ignoring the wisp since that wasn't actually him), etc.

That said, I'm not sure anything between Malcolm & Talas would necessarily be a long-term, committed relationship, given their similarities - I do think Malcolm needs someone who's not exactly like him, because I think he's quite fragile under that tough exterior, and I think Hoshi brings that combination of strength and warmth and implicit trust he needs to both give and take from a partner.

At the same time, that no-bullshit attitude of Talas' I think might also have helped Malcolm overcome his shitty self-esteem. Game recognises game, and Talas isn't going to waste her time seducing a weakling, in mind or spirit (his body is clearly not weak in any way). So I reckon she could have made great strides in flicking that switch that made him not just confident in his abilities, but in himself as a person.

So yeah, if I were to choose anyone other than Hoshi to ship with Malcolm? I'd be far more likely to ship Talas than pretty much anyone other than Shran (sorry Shranchers) (we were outright robbed of more Shran-Reed interactions and I bet there would have been flames on that bridge in Season 5 if Shran had joined the crew).

Admittedly I have read some really good Mayes, and again, the military background comes to the fore - I can see it playing a big role if he were to go for someone not Hoshi, who I think is both strong and gentle in the way he needs; but if not Hoshi, I'd really see him with Talas or Shran and then maybe Hayes before anyone else.

And the Andorian polycule opens up so many possibilities, not everyone would have to be super tough universal soldier, after all. So yeah, Malcolm and Talas are very much within the realm of possibility in my book. Hell, now I have brain tingles about a 6-strong squad, ffs.

(Of course, only if Hoshi is not in the picture, I'm not throwing over my OTP for anyone else, this is purely a what if exercise.)

Criminal how these two never went anywhere. They are. Made for each other. The trust issues. The military family. The unashamed flirting. It's the first time Reed has ever been normal around a woman in his entire life. She cured his daddy issues with 1 sentence.

She would have been the type of fiery and strong woman who always has strong opinions and wants to decide everything, and he would have been the "sure honey, whatever you want, your wish is my command :)" kind of man. UGH. We suffered a robbery.

[torchickentacos]

who needs encouraging fathers when you can get fortune cookies that tell you you're doing a good job and that it'll all be okay

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and her connection to my take on Gender (because this was meant to be about her and the Crew but it just devolved into a character analysis kinda??? More trauma-dumping maybe???) This is very much an oc/personal rant so feel free to ignore it 🫡

So, Orchid started off as a character I didn't really think much of (hear me out this is going to be relevant) because I wanted to add a 'girl' character but didn't know what to *do* with her, y'know? She was always going to be the strongest one there, she had the odds stacked in her favor with her parents. She was always going to be the gloomy side-character to match Reset's energy. But I think she's gone through every stage of Generic Woman I could possibly find.

At first she was angry and abrasive (think Fell!Sans) where every other word was a curse and she was likely to throw the first punch then laugh as she kicks her enemy while they're down. This was when Reset was a cartoonishly self-centered villain whose goal was simply to prove others wrong. Then Orchid became a sort of sisterly figure. This was short-lived, but she was the one comforting people who Reset would torment, but would ultimately follow his orders, because at this point he was actually a danger and sadistic. And then there was the phase where the story mellowed out and she became the token Goth Girl who, yes she was strong, but was heavy on the 'whatever' energy. Then there was her Era of deep self-loathing and anxiety about her worth that held her back and made her a much more timid and meek character who would only lash out on occasion.

Now, Orchid is the best of those iterations I've written yet. She's calm, level-headed, and a natural leader. Her father raised those traits into her. But she's very reactive, and can be silly, and when she's comfortable it's likely that air of importance transforms into something more comfortable and familiar. She laughs loudly and grins wide, she likes loud video-games but loves to read in the quiet. She's extremely disciplined, and normally no one can get through her tough exterior besides her best friend, Reset. She does what she does for her own enjoyment, sure, but she's thought of every angle and makes her choice to help Reset and control the others with her whole chest. She still worries she won't live up to her invisible expectations, and that and her loyalty are her two driving forces.

I know that Orchid is important to me because she's the longest-running female oc I've had. I have a rough relationship with womanhood/girlhood and I know looking back that Orchid recieved every ounce of my distaste for being a woman that I could shovel into her. That never made her less of a character, she was actually always one of my favorites, and rarely was she a 'punching bag oc'. I just... projected onto her a lot. And she's a good sign of how I've learned who I am. I've decided that my own femininity is something I could live without. I'd rather not associate myself with it, and I'd like to leave it in my past, focusing on a future where I'm not tied down with any gender roles or expectations. That won't happen, but I've come to terms with it myself. Orchid though? I figured out through her that I don't have to hate women characters. My own distaste for my circumstances doesn't mean I have to push it onto my characters (on God I've never expressed anything rude to actual people, that'd be rude as hell and uncalled for, but I have a bad habit of disliking fictional women in media). So, Orchid is a well-roubded character finally. She has motivations abd goals and a *lot* more depth than I ever expected her to. She's happy with being a woman, she's content. She's not treated differently for it in unfair ways by those she cares about, so she doesn't mind it. She likes to wear pretty outfits and lets Reset add bows to her ribbons. She doesn't let being a woman hold her back in the slightest.

So, yeah. Orchid is one of my babies. If I ever leave this Fandom behind for good, she's one that's coming with (Ichor, Orchid, and Pretender all have human designs I can use elsewhere lol-) but in the meantime I'll just rotate her around in my brain for a while longer.

If I'm right, she's been with me for nearly 5-6 years and I went through a *lot* with her as an outlet. So, she's kinda just like an old stuffed animal. A lil ripped, matted fur, maybe a stain or two, but there's a story there and that makes it important beyond belief.