#and i occasionally see this little falcon

[kissatoru]

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

pairing. sub!vampire!levi ackerman x dom!gn!reader

synopsis. in 19th century society, everyone has secrets they want to keep from seeing the light of day — so what will happen when you unveil levi’s?

content. implied virgin/touch-starved!levi, ooc levi at some points cause of vampire hormones, plot before porn, blood/blood-drinking kink, oral fixation, dry humping, handjob, inappropriate use of cravats, petnames (dearest, darling)

notes. first fic of hornyween!! the others won’t be as long lol this took FOREVER. anyway, please consider reblogging if you enjoy it<3

wc. 5k

Sparkling chandeliers adorn the ballroom’s high ceilings, making the polished floor gleam like honey as stylish figures twirl and glide across it. The rest of the guests are gathered by the walls in clusters, their lively chatter and chuckles mixing in with the night’s melodies.

You stand by one of the pink brocade curtains, sipping a glass of champagne. Your stance is relaxed but mannerly; not seeking nor avoiding attention, just observing and occasionally humouring a fellow guest that takes notice of your presence. Among those who approach you, admirers are plentiful, with faces of various qualities and contours, and characters both pleasant and not, but none who gain more than a few minutes of your time before you’re politely concluding the conversation or excusing yourself entirely.

As you’re meandering through laughing circles and swaying couples, away from yet another adamant admirer, you scan the room for him: the main reason you attended this ball at all. He rarely arrives for the banquets, and when he does, he even more rarely eats more than is expected of him. Now that the dancing has begun, he should be here, but you’ve yet to spot a single trace of him. It has made you restless, your eyes desperate in their pursuit. Each time you catch a glimpse of dark hair and pale skin or a short stature and a neatly tied cravat, you’re just as suddenly disappointed when you realise it’s not him. Eventually, you fall back into the same routine as before — entertaining married couples, faking laughs at bad jokes, listening to shallow gossip.

“Goodness, me,” Baroness Azumabito gushes at you, “you are as charming as they say, Your Grace.”

You chuckle courteously. “You’re too kind, Lady Azumabito.”

She offers you a closed-eye smile, her crow’s feet pinching together. “I truly must ask,” she begins, unfolding her peacock-feather fan and speaking a little quieter now. You already know it’s certainly not something she must ask. “What are your plans on marriage? You have no small number of choices, I’m sure!”

She giggles a little too hard for your liking, and you are reminded of the not-so-pretty piece of gossip you heard only a mere ten minutes ago — her husband’s gambling problems, her unmarried child. Quite the ideal motive for her to talk to you; someone who has both higher status and greater wealth. Of course, you know not all hearsay is true, but with a smile like Lady Azumabito’s, cunning as a fox and twice as sneaky, trust is a risk you’re not willing to take.

You laugh again. “Oh, none at the moment,” you say, feigning ignorance, “I’m so busy these days, I feel as though a partner might be…”

At the edge of your vision, a dark-haired silhouette passes. Your head moves in search of it, your eyes following, flicking this way and that. However, amidst the sea of extravagant gowns and upscale suits, the glimpse you had managed to catch slips from your grasp all too soon.

“Might be what?” Kiyomi asks.

An uneasy sense of disappointment hollows in your chest, but you ignore it. “Uh, a distraction. Would be... a distraction.”

Another flash of shadowy hair, porcelain skin.

Kiyomi clears her throat. “Do you care to elaborate, Your Grace?”

Just as you’re about to turn back to her, a figure stops in clear view before you: a metre and a half tall, raven black locks, eyes as sharp as falcon talons, an intricately tailored waistcoat — and the swan-white ruffles of a linen cravat.

A huff is your only warning before the short woman is stepping in and obscuring your line of sight, her round eyes now pressed into slits by her strained smile. “Please forgive my impudence, Your Grace, but what has you so–”

You abruptly but gently take her hands into yours. “Pardon my manners, Lady Azumabito,” you say, already shifting on your feet in preparation for your departure, “but I’ve spotted an acquaintance of mine with whom I’d like to discuss some private matters with.” You let go of her hands and give a curt bow. “If you’ll please excuse me.”

Her dumbfounded expression is the last you see of her before you swiftly take your leave. You track the person with your eyes and feet in tandem, each step purposeful and your eagerness barely contained. Once you’re in arm’s length, you cheerily call out:

“Viscount Ackerman!”

Several people turn their heads. The Viscount in question stops no later, though seemingly reluctantly. He turns to face you, a question perched on the peak of his raised eyebrow.

Your shoes clack as you stride the rest of the way up to him. Once beside him, you lean over and flash him a cheeky smirk. “Fashionably late as always?” you remark, but it fails to prompt any sort of perceptible reaction. The only change in his expression is his eyebrow returning to its relaxed position.

“And I see you are…” Silver blue eyes wash over you, up and down, in a single steady motion. “In attendance. As always.”

“Of course,” you reply with a practised smile. “I would not dream of missing one of the Duke of Trost’s parties.”

He hums. “I don’t doubt that.”

You hum back, thoughtful. “And what of yourself, my Lord?” you ask. “What brings you here?” You pause to smile knowingly. “Certainly not the food, seeing as you were absent for that.”

His eyes narrow and his lips press together in a firm line. “If you must know, the Duke was very insistent that I attend,” he explains, eyeing a passing servant before picking up a flute of champagne from their tray. “As for my tardiness… I prioritised taking care of some business affairs, first and foremost. Though I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to understand.” He swirls the liquid around in his glass and takes a sip.

You chuckle heartily. “Oh, come now!” you exclaim. “Why so hostile? Are we not friends?”

“Only in public,” Levi corrects in a low tone.

You turn to face the room, smirking against your glass. “That’s not true and you know it.”

A newly-engaged couple you were conversing with earlier passes by, waving. You smile and wave back at them.

Levi makes an exasperated noise. “Do you never tire of that?” he grumbles into his glass.

You bring your own glass up to your lips. “Whatever do you mean, my Lord?”

He grimaces. “That.”

You giggle. “Keeping up appearances is just the way I was raised,” you reply with a gesture of nonchalance, “but not all my smiles are fake, you know. It’s quite pleasant, smiling.” You beam at him, as if to prove your point. “I think you ought to try it some time.”

Levi scowls. “I know how to smile.”

“Oh, I never said you didn’t, my Lord,” you quip. “I have no doubt that you understand it in theory, just that you should try putting it into practice.” You point to the corner of your mouth, lifting it to mimic a smile.

He sucks his teeth and tears his gaze away from your own. “You’re infuriating.”

“And yet, here you are,” you say, stepping closer. “For longer than ten seconds, might I add. Surely a feat, no?”

Levi scoffs. “Don’t flatter yourself.” He raises his glass, speaking over the lip of it. “You just happen to be the least infuriating one here.”

You bite your tongue — “Well, by your standards, being the least infuriating is, in fact, quite flattering!” — and instead, you glance around and lean in. “In that case, what do you say we go find a place away from all this poor company?” Your voice takes on a lighter yet all the more meaningful tone. “Perhaps somewhere just for the two of us?”

There’s a glint of interest in Levi’s eyes that doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you pull away to look at him. “I would say that’s highly inappropriate,” he says, hushed, but not in a way that matches his words; hushed in a way that suggests intrigue.

“Inappropriate?” you echo, lips curving into a smile. “You really needn’t worry so much, my Lord! We shan’t be away for long, I promise.”

Levi’s thin eyebrows angle up. After a moment of contemplation, he closes his eyes and sighs. “If you insist,” he concedes.

Without further discussion, you set aside your and Levi’s drinks, then go ahead and stroll over to the arched doors with Levi not far behind.

With how often the Duke hosts such extravaganzas, you’ve had plenty of occasions to become familiar with the layout of their home, hence why you know where all of the rooms are. You navigate through the narrow hallways with an air of confidence, occasionally stopping to praise or snicker at family paintings and decor choices, much to Levi’s chagrin.

“What is it now?” Levi asks, attempting to pinpoint the subject of your attention this time.

You stand by a window that faces the rear garden, peering through the glass with squinted eyes. “Do my eyes deceive me or is that the Countess of Ehrmich and her handmaid kissing out in the gazebo?” You turn to Levi with a theatrically outraged jaw-drop, making him roll his eyes.

“You are no better than those gossiping simpletons we left in the ballroom,” he scolds as he draws the curtains shut.

You chuckle. “Apologies! Only a jest!” He glares at you but otherwise doesn’t complain. You watch him for a moment, how his nimble fingers tug and adjust the curtains, how he mutters expletives under his breath at the dust that transfers to his hands from the curtains.

Feeling mischievous, you lean in, so your lips are almost touching his ear. “It’s just so fun to tease you, I can’t resist.”

Goosebumps raise on Levi’s skin as he flinches away from you, fingers hovering over where your breath brushed his earlobe. He swallows. “Maybe you ought to practise some self-restraint.”

You smirk. “Maybe you ought to have less of it.”

He frowns. “How would that benefit anyone?”

You take a step closer. “Try it and find out.”

Levi takes a step back, but you take another step forward. His back bumps into a solid surface as your hand reaches out. He freezes in anticipation.

The click of a door handle, then a quiet creak.

“I believe,” you say, smiling cattily and circling around him, “I have found the drawing room.”

Levi huffs. “Finally,” he mumbles and pushes past you through the door. You follow after him, shutting the door behind you.

The room is a size you’d expect given how large the rest of the residence is. A ceiling mural depicting an Ancient Roman legend; tall windows and velvet curtains. At the centre of the room, atop a patterned rug, gold and beige furniture is arranged in a thoughtful composition. Dainty — yet no doubt expensive — decorations and trinkets adorn various corners, shelves and walls.

In one of the armchairs, Levi sits down, exhaling long and heavy, as if he had been holding his breath all night. You, on the other hand, decide to explore the room first, ambling between the furnishings and admiring the cosiness of the space. Absent-mindedly, you run a finger along the spines of some books piled on top of a small table, tracing the ribbed leather and embossed text.

“At last, some peace and quiet, hm?” you say, mostly just to occupy the air with something of substance, as you glance at Levi.

He’s sitting with one elbow resting on the seat’s floral print armrest, the pads of his fingers massaging the area between his eyebrows. “Until you spoiled it, yes,” he grunts.

The beginnings of a witty remark form, then just as quickly dissipate from your tongue. The corners of your lips sink, the lines in your face waning into nothing.

With his face cast down, Levi is oblivious to the change in your expression. It isn’t until you take two, five, ten or so steps — when the silence drags on without a response of your own — that he raises his head.

“Actually,” you start, standing by the armchair across from him, only a few feet away, “I brought you here to discuss something with you.”

His reaction is stalled but still comes in the form of a puzzled frown. “Go on, then.”

The floorboards squeak under your weight as you take another few steps forward. Levi shifts in his chair. “We agreed to be honest with one another, Levi. To not keep secrets,” you say, “yet I have good reason to suspect you haven’t entirely been maintaining your end of the agreement.”

As he opens his mouth to defend himself, your approaching footsteps finally seal the remaining distance between you. You step in to occupy the space between his knees and the contact is enough to make them jolt away as if from flames. Levi stares down at them until he catches the movement of your arms in the corner of his vision.

In your hands is a book, presumably from the stack you were observing earlier. He had been so absorbed in the shrinking space between you that he didn’t stop to consider that perhaps the arms linked behind you might be holding something.

His eyes roam the book, then fall on the shining yellow words etched into the front cover:

The Vampyre

by John William Polidori

Electric impulses fire through his body. His mouth goes dry. “I told Hange to get rid of that.”

“Really? Why is that?” you ask, turning it over in your hand. “I hear it’s quite good.”

Levi can’t stop the irritation from showing on his face. “The problem is not with the book itself.”

It’s the influence it has on imbeciles like Hange, he finishes in his head. Imbeciles who’ll believe anything with enough coincidences and paranoid witness accounts. Sure, Hange is a special case, because they’re not so much afraid of the rumoured existence of ‘vampires’ as they are curious, which is arguably worse — especially since, for once, the imbeciles are right.

“Then what’s the problem?” Your frown seems to be of genuine confusion, but Levi knows better. There’s an underlying something just waiting to reveal itself.

Levi folds his arms across his chest. “What does this have to do with our agreement?”

The smile returns to your face, but it is unlike any that Levi is used to seeing; not fake, but not entirely trustworthy either. “Surely you’ve figured out that much by now.” You set the book aside. “Really, Levi. Do you take me for some kind of fool?” Your hands come forward and clasp the armrests of his chair. “Did you really think I don’t know that… you’re a vampire?”

Levi scoffs. “Do you hear yourself?” He narrows his eyes at you. “Vampires are a baseless conspiracy. A ludicrous superstition fabricated by the English that only a credulous halfwit–”

A hand grabs him by the cheeks, cramming the rest of his words back behind his teeth. “Open your mouth,” you order.

The suddenness of the command evaporates any and all thoughts from Levi’s head, replacing them with a purely chemical reaction in the form of heat striking through him. Gradually, you push his head back — and he lets you — while a hard mound he can only assume is your knee eases between his parted legs, coercing a gasp from his mouth. As soon as his jaw loosens, your fingers are poking through the gap between his lips, moving as if hunting for something. They settle around his upper canines, sliding over and prodding at them, over and over, until eventually they begin to grow, extending down, down into a sharp, tapered point, much too long for what can be considered human.

Levi groans, but the sound is much too airy for pain or discomfort to be the cause of it. Drool is gathering beneath his tongue and blood in his cheeks. How humiliating it is to have his fangs coaxed out by the close proximity of his carnal weakness — by someone who should be his prey in this dynamic — and how all the more humiliating it is to have the strike of heat from before already invading the rest of his body.

Only once the fangs have stopped growing do you cease your petting, opting instead to drag a single fingertip along the newly-revealed length of bone. “My, my,” you coo, “it seems that the truth has spoken for itself.” You remove your fingers from his mouth, but Levi’s head remains in its position against the backrest. “Whatever shall I do with you, now that I have you at my mercy?”

Your fingers travel down his exposed throat. Like a frightened prey animal, Levi’s body digs into the cushioned upholstery, trying to comprehend the foreign feeling of being touched in this way. Breaths beat out through his nose in quickening puffs and miniscule tremors rattle through his chest as he attempts to control, or perhaps conceal, the frantic rise and fall of it. Beneath your fingertips, you can feel his heartbeat, the pulse so solid that if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was hitting his ribcage with every beat.

“Are you afraid?” you ask him quietly, your fingers continuing their path downward.

Levi swallows, lets out a heavy breath but doesn’t answer. You watch him, analyse him. His tightly closed eyes, the sweat coming through his clothes… “Then perhaps you’re—” His unsteady breaths, his contracting muscles— “aroused?”

His Adam’s apple lifts and then drops. You follow the motion with your eyes, then lower, lower and lower, until you find the answer you’re looking for in his oh-so-conveniently open thighs. He immediately attempts to shut them, but your own prevent him from doing so.

“No need to be ashamed,” you assure him as you smile that knowing smile and carefully climb on top of his lap. “I can help to relieve you. If you wish.” You rub your bottom half against his hardened groin as a testament to your words.

Levi’s neck stretches over the backrest, an open-mouthed moan escaping him, then retracts back to his chest. His eyebrows cinch together in thought, but the way his hips rut into you has already declared his decision, so when his eyes finally flutter open and peer up at yours, you are unable to suppress your look of delight.

“Please,” is all he says — and all he needs to say to send your mind and self-control reeling.

You pounce forward, ravaging his lips with your own, while you grind down again; harder than before, and with more finesse. The noise that Levi makes into your mouth is much too heavenly for a creature of such damnable origin, yet as addictive as if it had been produced by a devil of temptation itself.

The swipe of a sleek surface has you parting from him on instinct. “Careful of your teeth, darling,” you warn and he nods as if in a daze before pulling you back in. He paws at your clothes, helpless and wanting, as though he aches to bring you closer. You let out an enraptured sigh at his aggressive gesture. After all, what an honour it is to have the stoic Viscount Levi Ackerman falling apart and moaning pathetically beneath you; what sacrilege to be a mortal defiling its natural predator. You feel as though you’re going mad, losing all sense of self from the sheer thrill of it.

You drag yourself away from his lips, only to see the full effects of your actions. Strong features softening as though he’s melting from the pleasure. Eyes squeezed shut while his glossy black hair, usually so perfectly combed, fans out in loose strands over his forehead. Razor-sharp nails mauling the armrests. Two fanged teeth poking out from under his lip.

In minutes, Levi is curling into you and crying out against your skin. You guide him through his climax, raking your fingers up from his undercut and through the strands at the top while whispering caring words to him, in soothing repetition. He collapses into you, his arms limp at your sides and his panting breaths warm on your neck. Before you can push him away, he’s mindlessly nuzzling and lapping at your throat like a dog, coating your skin in spit, sucking and occasionally catching his fangs on the fragile flesh. It would be a lie to say you aren’t enticed by the prospect of them breaking through; moving with more purpose and sinking into your–

Levi whines against your shoulder. “Please, let me have a taste. I’ll do anything, please,” he mumbles. “It’s been so long, I– I cannot wait any longer, please, I beg of you…” He pulls away, licking his lips, as if the taste of your skin is enough to last and cherish. “Please,” he begs, “let me drink your blood.”

You smile, wide, and brush back the hair tickling his eyes. “Only since you asked so nicely.”

As soon as the words enter the air, Levi lunges at you. You’re almost not fast enough, but manage to get a hold of him.

You pin his wrists on either side of his head, and the tightness of your grip seems to snap Levi out of his ravenous trance. “That wasn’t very polite,” you reprimand. Levi only looks up at you regretfully, which is likely the closest thing you’ll get to an apology from him. You sigh. “Don’t worry.” You let go of him and slide your palm under his chin. “Open–”

His jaw falls slack in an instant, granting you access to the inside of his mouth. You trail your fingers around his wet lips first, this way and that, slow and soft, just to hear him whine. You giggle but finally slip a finger inside and Levi groans in time with it. His tongue is the next thing to fall from his mouth, hanging over his lip and dripping saliva onto his shirt.

“What a sight,” you breathe. “I wonder what our fellow nobles would think.”

Levi moans softly as you poke your fingertip into the point of one of his fangs. You hiss as it pierces the skin and wait for the blood to collect before turning your finger over.

“Tilt your head back, dearest,” you say, and Levi does so with haste. You dangle your finger above his eager tongue and watch his eyes roll back as the first drop hits his taste buds. He savours the flavour like a man starved of water, his mouth pooling with drool, and whimpers in anticipation of the next drop.

Your eyes are fixated on him, as if hypnotised, and engulfed in sick amusement from the power you have over him. Your thumb sits under your fingertip, forcing out the liquid with steady presses, but for Levi, it’s still not enough. Animalistic hunger and impatience possess him. His arms come to life to grab your wrist and yank it toward his mouth. He manages to swallow your finger whole before you can react, though the sight is much too precious for you to deny or scold him anyway.

The grip around your wrist turns vice-like as he feverishly sucks the blood from your finger. His closed eyelids twitch and runny spit oozes down his chin. You look on in adoration at the sweetly depraved state you have him in. Who would think that a blood-sucking monster could be this docile and helpless?

Levi’s panting grows heavier until you begin to feel him rutting against you. When you look down, the lump of his crotch has regained hardness, already straining against the dark material. “Aroused again so soon?” you taunt.

He is so engrossed in sucking that he doesn’t seem to hear you, so you tug your finger out of his mouth and hands. He grunts in protest, but you ignore him and try again. “Would you like me to take care of that for you?”

As if freshly woken from a daze, or perhaps still in one, those folds you’re so used to seeing between his eyebrows take shape in a show of gentle confusion. “Take… care of what?”

You bring a hand down to his lap and lightly tap the bulge that’s formed there, making him tense and spasm under you. He must still be sensitive, you think with a smile.

“Of this,” you clarify.

He swallows. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You stifle a chuckle. “It’s a yes or no question, Levi, so answer with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’.”

He sighs and evades your eyes as he hisses out a reluctant “Yes.”

“Good boy,” you praise and begin to make quick work of the buttons on his trousers.

Levi frowns. “Don’t call me that. I am not a dog.”

You laugh through your nose, amused. “Yet you drool and whimper just like one.” You playfully stare up at him through your lashes. He doesn’t say anything back, just blooms a deeper pink, so you accept your win and finish unbuttoning his trousers. Next, you unfasten the strings of his undergarments, freeing his leaking length.

As soon as your fingers make contact with it, Levi writhes. His legs squirm and his hips buck up into your touch. In seconds, the wet head of his cock is dripping with bead after bead of precum. In your awe of his intense reaction, you find yourself experimentally toying with it; squeezing, tugging, kneading, fingering. Obscene noises created by the remnants of his previous release make colour fill Levi’s usually colourless cheeks. His glinting grey eyes are lidded, his head dizzy and delirious. His mouth is hanging open in surrender to the erotic sounds he cannot help making, tongue dyed scarlet from your blood and glistening with saliva. You adore it — are spurred on by it, even — but his volume is now teetering on too loud, and the last thing you want right now is to be caught.

So with one hand on his dick, keeping him distracted, you hurriedly untie his cravat and stuff it into his inviting mouth. A startled, confused but thankfully muted moan rumbles through the cloth. You grin at the conflicted eyes and knitted eyebrows you get in response to your actions, entirely unbothered as you continue to take him apart with your touches, to watch him become the embodiment of debauchery. Moonlight skin shiny with sweat, teeth gnawing around his makeshift gag, pelvis involuntarily meeting your movements, elbows pointing to the ceiling as he desperately scratches and claws at the back of the chair, surely ruining it beyond repair with his needlepoint nails and vampiric strength. So effortlessly picture-perfect.

No more than a few seconds later, he’s arching his back against the chair and wailing into his linen gag. The wood of the backrest splinters and the upholstery tears loudly under his fingernails. Warm fluid gushes out over your fist and dribbles down it as you continue stroking his length. Your other hand takes out the cravat from Levi’s mouth and wipes up the mess. He lets out a few wet little warbles and whimpers at the overstimulating feeling, but quietens down once you finish.

You don’t allow him a second to recuperate from his high, instead satiating your own desires; snatching his face up in your hands and latching your lips onto his in one smooth motion. Tongues curl together and the metallic tang of your own blood swarms your senses. Levi keens and grips the fabric at your waist. By the time your mouths separate, you’re both breathless and gasping against each other, and the allure of his dishevelled state has you unable to resist trailing a few extra kisses on his skin; from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, on the soft spot behind his ear and down his delicate neck. Levi grabs at your shoulders weakly, but when you pull back to check on him, his gaze drops to your laps.

“How did you find that?” You tilt your head. “Good?”

Better than good, so much better — is what he thinks, but what he settles on saying is “Yes, it– it was good.”

The smile that stretches across your cheeks is inevitable, and the most sincere one you’ve had the entire night. “Well… as much as I would like to keep going,” you say, chewing on your inner lip corner, and making Levi flush, “I think it’s time we go back.”

You climb off of the chair and straighten out your clothes. Meanwhile, Levi tries, and fails, to stand up, his knees buckling and sending him flopping back into the seat.

You sigh sympathetically and caress the side of his face. “You should rest for a moment,” you tell him. Your fingers glide down to his chin, take it into your hand and wipe the spit, along with the traces of smeared blood, from his lips. “Perhaps neaten up your appearance, in the meantime?” you add with a smirk.

Some awareness seems to have awoken in him, perhaps as a result of your teasing, because he pouts and replies with, “I was planning on doing so anyway.”

You don’t say anything else, taking that moment to appreciate the silence, just the distant echo of music and the tick of the clock on the mantelpiece. Luckily, it does not take long for Levi’s ragged breaths to calm, and for his thighs to reclaim their strength. You help to clean up his image, fastening up garments, flattening out creases and wiping away or concealing the evidence of your activities. Kisses are exchanged in between; some of them stolen, some of them followed by giggles, and some by lustful gazes.

Once you’re ready to leave, you head for the door, but you only go as far as clasping the gold handle before stopping and turning to Levi. His eyebrows shift in that way they’re so good at, speaking when words don’t need to. Your eyes sketch out a path down his face, all the way to his lips, where you find yourself already missing the blood, drool and pearly fangs…

Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching for his nape and wrapping your plush lips around each other.

“If you’re well-behaved tonight,” you rasp against his lips, “I’ll treat you to more than just a finger next time.”

taglist. @jazzyluuv <3

[absideon-ephemeral]

Dog Tags | Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x (fem) reader

Summary: there is something about Bucky’s dog tags that drove both of you crazy.

A/N: SET AFTER THE SHOW THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. I have a head cannon that Bucky ended up moving to Louisiana and buying a house close to Sarah.

Warnings: (hopefully) tooth rotting fluff, mild language, Reader described as having boobs, suggestive themes, illness, idk what I missed so read at your own advisory I guess.

There was something about them.

Those fucking dog tags.

He wore them every moment of every day: didn’t even take them off to shower or sleep.

They were just pieces of metal (although they had special value to him) so you couldn’t figure out why it drove you crazy whenever you caught a glimpse of them.

I was a good kind of crazy though. One that would make you go feral for him. You never voiced this to your beautiful lover, but he knew. Oh, he knew.

After finding out about your obsession from Sam a little birdie, he would make any excuse to show them off. In the shower, working out, cuddling? Bucky did it all. (His favorite was seeing them dangle and slap your face while he has you folded in half).

But his ultimate favorite ended up happening on a quiet Sunday morning. . .

———————————————————————

It was early. Early enough to just begin to hear the birds chirp and see the sun start to rise. Bucky unlocked your shared front door and crept inside as quietly as possible.

For the past week, he had been away on some diplomatic mission to tie up loose ends left from the Flagsmashers. His week was crammed full of press conferences, meetings, and the occasional man hunt for a left-over Smasher. And for the past week, his stress has been through the roof.

It all started when he had managed to forget his dogs tags on the bathroom counter the morning he left. For the rest of the week, an unsettling weightlessness sat on his chest and the absence of the familiar, cool metal was strange. The tags brought him comfort: it kept him grounded and reminded him of who he is. On rough days, they acted as a form of emotional support - reminding him that he is James Buchanan Barnes and not him. Without them, a strange hollowness followed him everywhere.

And to make matters worse, you ended up falling sick with something close to pneumonia the day after he left. He was helpless and couldn’t do anything more than call and pester Sarah to check on you.

So he felt empty and stressed, but now he was home and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with you.

As quietly as possible, Bucky set down his bag and toed off his mud-crusted boots, making his way to the kitchen after. He tried (keyword, tried) to quietly recreate his mom’s famous chicken noodle soup for you, but it was a bit hard when his metal arm ‘clinked’ against the pot and bowl.

Once he was satisfied with the meal he prepared, he grabbed a glass of water and made his way to your shared bedroom.

Nudging the door open, he was greeted with the sight of your sleeping form sprawled out on the bed. Setting the soup and water on the bedside table, he sat on the edge of the bed to silently admire you.

There you lay, hair a messy halo on the pillow and small snores accompanying each breath. He took note that you were wearing his old red shirt with the words “can you give me a hand?” written across it (Sam had given it to him during a visit to Wakanda when he was an armless mess). But the thing he noticed most was the harsh rasp and rattle of your lungs with each breath. A frown fell upon his face as he decided wether or not to wake you up. On one hand, he wanted you to enjoy your, seemingly peaceful, sleep; but on the other, he knew that you needed to clear your lungs before you suffocated on mucus.

The thought of you not suffocating won over and he gently shook you awake. It took a couple shakes and the quiet repetition of your name to elicit a groan from you. From there, he began to gently coax you further into awareness.

“Come on doll, I’m finally home and want to see those pretty eyes. I need you to get up, hon.” He spoke softly.

Slowly but surely, your eyes opened and you had to blink a few times to clear them. Upon seeing the beautiful face of your lover you shot up, despite the protest of your sluggish body, and threw your arms around his neck.

“I missed you so much.” Your voice was hoarse from coughing and sounded so frail.

“I missed you too, darling. I know you’re probably still tired, but how about we take a nice, warm shower together, hm? That way we can both be clean and we can loosen up that gunk in your lungs.”

You simply nodded, too tired and on the brink of falling asleep against him. He wrapped you up in his arms and carried out of bed and to the bathroom. Once inside, he set you down on the toilet and turned on the shower all the way to hot. He stripped himself bare, save for his boxers, and then began to help you.

Kneeling in front of you, he placed his hands on your waistband, a silent ask of permission. You lifted your hips just enough for him to slide your shorts off. The shirt came next. But it’s what was under it that caught him off guard.

It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, no, he was used to that.

But it was the fact that you were wearing his dog tags.

His dog tags.

The ones he left behind and had felt their absence all week.

Sitting so prettily between your breasts, shining and slick with condensation.

For a minute his brain short circuited - snapping into a daze as the bathroom began to fill with hot, thick steam. But it was your voice that brought him back.

“Bucky?” The small call was followed by a series of coughs that racked your whole body.

He immediately sprang into action, rubbing your back and pushing your damp hair away from your face. Reassuring words spilled out of his mouth like a poem; guiding you through it and reminding you to try and breathe. By the time the coughing subsided and you could breathe again, your chest hurt and your lungs were so tired. Bucky could see your exhaust and it pained him to see you so tired.

“Whats on your mind?” The question caught him off guard.

“Nothing hun. Just thinking about how pretty you look wearing my tags.”

A small grin broke out on your face, “you like when I wear ‘em?”

His eyes met yours. “Honey, I absolutely fucking love it.”

A raspy chuckle escaped you. “Good. Cause I want to wear them if that’s okay with you. Especially when you’re not here. It’s like I have you right beside me no matter what.”

Bucky smiled and stood up, stripping you and himself of the remaining clothes and guiding you off the toilet and to the shower. “Doll, you can wear them whenever you want. You can wear them forever if that’s what it takes to make you always feel safe and loved,” he stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to hit him first, “but I will always be by your side. With or without those tags.”

A small smirk crept upon his face as you fully joined him in the shower.

“You don’t know the things you do to me wearing my tags. Actually, I want you to wear them every day. That way, everyone will know you’re mine.”

———————————————————————

And he kept true to his word. Everyday, he would place those tags around your neck, making sure they fell just right on your chest. More often than not it ended up with him bending you over the bathroom counter and watching in the mirror as his tags slapped against your tits. And he made sure you always had them when he was away as well. No longer had he felt anxious or empty without them for he knew that they were always beside your heart.

So, it’s safe to say, that his favorite way of seeing his dog tags, was on you.

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

PAIRING: sebastian stan x f!reader

TAGS: set during quarantine, established relationship, age gap (if you squint, it's not directly mentioned), just fluff :)

A/N: yet another lost selencgraphy fic! wrote this during quarantine in attempt to lift my spirits :) happy reading <3

WORD COUNT: 912

masterlist || request box <3

You and Sebastian have been stuck in the tiny apartment that the two of you shared for what felt like forever. When the pandemic hit, he was still filming for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, so he had to finish it up. Somedays you would get the occasional FaceTime call at lunch and be "graced with the presence of Choclachino" as Mackie titled it. It wasn't how it normally was but it was fun while it lasted. 

Once they finished filming, he was stuck at home with you. Sure, the world was put to a pause but that didn't stop the two of you from having some fun of your own. "Y/N, I swear to god if you don't get your ass back here right now!"

Life with Sebastian never had a dull moment and being stuck with him during a pandemic just amplified your already chaotic energy. You two had tons of movie and game nights. But some days you would just lay in each other's arms and cuddle. Pranks became a common theme in the household and unfortunately for him, your pranks never failed. Today, you threw confetti all over him as he was about to get out of the shower.

His eyes grew wide as he stopped in shock and quickly met yours. "You're so going to pay for that," he muttered with a chuckle before he lunged towards you.

"Oh shit, OH SHIT!" you screeched as you avoided him. Quickly, you ran back out to the kitchen and devised a game plan. There was no way in hell you were letting him get his revenge. Eventually, he was going to catch you, and then you'd both be covered in confetti. So you snatched your phone, wallet, mask, and keys and ran out the door. You’ve been meaning to go grocery shopping anyways.

—

The groceries you needed were acquired, and it was finally time that you made your way back home. Hopefully after leaving him home by himself for a couple of hours let him cool off. You quietly used your key and opened the door. He was just sitting down on the couch, which Mackie was 100% correct about even if Seb denied it. It didn't look like he noticed you were back home. To make sure, you removed your shoes to make no noise. Tiptoeing to the couch, you looked over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. He was on his phone. He was looking at TikToks. "No fucking way," you thought.

Very quickly, you snuck your hand up and around his head and snatched the phone out of his hands. "What the fu-"

"Ah ah ah," you tutted, wagging your finger in his face with his phone in your other hand. "Is the Sebastian Stan looking at TikToks? Let's see what you've been looking at."

You scrolled a bit and noticed a common theme. They were all mostly memes of him and Mackie. You pulled one up and let it play. "I'll see you next time! Bye Sebastian! HuNgRy EyEs! OnE LoOk aT yOu aNd I cAn'T DiSgUiSe-"

He reached out over the couch to try and swipe his phone back. You quickly pulled it back out of his reach. "Y/N... Give me my phone back. Please..."

"Or what?"

Suddenly, he was jumping over the couch and you turned and started to run away again. Lucky for him, your apartment was incredibly small, and you had little place to run. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you back into him. "Gotcha," he whispered, "I'd like my phone back now, please."

Even though you had no more options, you didn't give in. You continued to hold the phone close to your chest, a smirk settling on your face. "So that's how you wanna play it? Okay..."

He let you go. You thought you were free. You thought wrong. He quickly turned you around, picked you up, and threw you over his shoulder. "Seb, put me down!" you pleaded, laughing as he walked back to the living area.

Before you knew it, he threw you back onto the couch and started to tickle you. He knew you were extremely ticklish and unfortunately, he played to your weakness. "This is for earlier," he giggled while continuing to tickle your sides.

Soon enough, the tickling got to you and your grip on his phone loosened. He swiftly grabbed it back and stood back up. "Fine, fine you win," you let out, trying to catch your breath, "Why were you even looking at TikToks anyways?"

"First of all, Mackie sent these to me. Second of all, I'm teaching him how to use Instagram, but all the kids these days use TikTok so I'm uh..."

"Go on," you encouraged.

He sighed. "I'm trying to get with the program if you will."

Your boyfriend. Sebastian Stan. Gen Z's current internet crush was trying to get with the program. You tried to hold in your laughter and he could tell by the look on your face. "You better not laugh at me or I will tickle you even more."

You threw your hands up in surrender. "Hey! I'm glad you're trying, babe." You turned to head back to the kitchen to put the groceries you just bought away. As you walked away, you said back, "About time, old man!"

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing!"

"No, I think you just called me an old man!"

[tokkishouse]

hii i say ur " The first time you call him a term of endearment" post and can i request one where the roles get reversed with kaeya, thoma & heizou. fem!reader gets really really flustered hearing the term of endearment (perhaps one related to snow in kaeya's), tysm <33

(Sfw) Calling Each Other Terms of Endearment for the First Time

Characters: Diluc, Heizou, Kaeya, Thoma, Tighnari

Warnings: Slightly suggestive in Heizou and Tighnari's part, mentions of injuries in Tighnari's part

WC: 1.8k words total

Pt. 1, Pt. 2

He calls you a term of endearment first

The steady tick-tock of the clock reverbs around the study. Paper shuffling and ink scratching fill in the gaps, and the occasional chatter shared between you and Diluc adds life to the quiet environment. Days like this were normal-- enjoying each other's company even with minimal interaction.

The peace is broken by the sound of liquid splashing against the mahogany desk and Diluc's sudden groan in frustration. You look up from the book you were reading to see that ink had splattered on the parchment and his hands. He clicks his tongue and looks up at you, offering a small smile.

"Dearest, could you get a towel? Or just something to clean myself up with."

Your grip tightens on your book in surprise and you freeze in your spot. The redhead watches you strangely as you stumble over your words for a response.

"D-Dearest?" you finally spit out, incredulous. It's his turn to be embarrassed, his face turning as red as his hair.

"Y-yes, that's what I said. Do you not like it?" he's become shy, scared that he has overstepped his boundaries. You quickly shake your head, standing up abruptly and sending your book tumbling to the ground.

"I'll go get you a towel now!" you announce, quickly rushing out of the study. Diluc watches on, still embarrassed but slowly calming down.

He calls you a term of endearment first

"Two dango milks please!" Heizou orders for you two. You decided to have a stroll around Inazuma City-- Heizou had been busy with the recent Test of Courage situation and hadn't been able to spend some quality time with you. He promised that as soon as the situation was resolved he'd take you out.

And that's what brings you to today-- sipping on dango milk while you both sit on a nearby bench. You cringe at the initial taste, but stomach it as you chug the rest of it.

"Do you want to check out the Yae Publishing House next?" Heizou suggests, looking over. He stifles a laugh when he sees the milk staining your upper lip, unbeknownst to you. Seeing him struggle to conceal his laughter, you quirk an eyebrow up.

"Something on my face?" his smirk widens and he reaches over with a napkin to wipe up the milk.

"I didn't know you were trying to grow facial hair, doll. The white suits you," he teases, carefully dabbing away at the milk.

Your face warms up in embarrassment and you hiss at him, trying to bat him away from your face.

"Heizou please!"

"What? Would you rather I tell you what it reminds me of? After all, a delightful image appears in my head and I'd like to recreate it-"

"Shut up!"

He calls you a term of endearment first

"Race you to the beach!" you challenge, breaking into a sprint toward the beaches at Falcon Coast. Kaeya's jumps in surprise but is quick to recover as he breaks into a sprint himself. Despite your headstart, his agile body is quick to catch up and he soon overtakes you.

You both approach the glistening coast fast, and Kaeya's slides to a stop right at the shore, cementing his victory.

"Always just a little too slow it seems~" he teases, watching you jog up to meet him. You sigh, shaking your head.

"I could never beat the calvary captain could I?" he laughs, turning away.

You notice two buckets and a shovel resting against a giant rock and walk over to them. They look like children's pails-- one is blue and the other is your favorite color. You look up at him, and instead of his confident smirk, it's melted into a sheepish smile.

"I wanted to go seashell hunting with you. I used to do it all the time when I was younger," he begins and slowly trails off. A distant look twinkles in his eyes and the air turns somber. You clear your throat, pulling him out of it and you reach down to grab the bucket.

"Well let's get started then! Who knows, maybe we'll find treasure too!"

Kaeya's watches you carefully, and his smirk reappears.

"Oh? But I'd consider you the finest treasure around."

He's quick to dodge the projectile bucket, laughing at your flustered expression.

You call him a term of endearment first

"Thoma, where should I put this stuff?" you ask, looking over at your boyfriend.

You and Thoma were both housekeepers for the Kamisato Clan, although he had far more responsibilities than you did. Eager to help and already done with your chores for the day, you offered your assistance to him, and he was happy to have the help.

"Put it in the closet down the hall! It's extra stationery for Lady Ayaka and Lord Ayato," he answers, watching you carry the crate off.

He enjoys working with you as much as possible-- he has no problem taking care of his tasks on his own, but being able to have help, especially from his partner is always a bonus. You come back a few moments later, dusting off your hands.

"Sweetie, do you mind if I go and sit down? My back is killing me," you complain, placing your hands on your back to stretch. He waves you off, letting you take a breather as he presses on. Your words don't quite hit him until he's carrying another crate down the hall. Upon realization, he freezes and drops the crate on the ground, sending a thunderous noise down the halls. Nearby maids look over in surprise as the blonde stands there, dumbfounded and rosy-cheeked.

He calls you a term of endearment first

Having finished all of his tasks for the day, Thoma invited you to join him in feeding some of the nearby stray dogs. Happy to indulge in any spare time he had, you agreed to accompany him. It was one of your favorite past times to do with him. Watching the dogs slowly grow used to both of you was rewarding and it always left you feeling fulfilled and accomplished.

"Oh drat, we're out of some fowl," you complain, realizing your rummaging through your bag has turned unfruitful. Thoma looks over, frowning.

"I can run to the local market and get some?" he offers, but you shake your head, standing up.

"I'll go. I'll be fast," you promise, and you quickly take off to purchase the fowl. Thoma watches after you longingly before turning back to the dogs, showering them in affection.

"You all don't know how good Y/N really is," he begins, carefully ruffling one of the shiba's fur. "They're hard-working and kind, and they always offer to lend me a hand. On days that I don't see them, time seems to drag on forever."

Thoma sighs and sits back a bit, closing his eyes to take a break. The dogs all scramble to crawl in his lap and ask for his attention again, but he's starting to get lost in his thoughts.

"My sweetheart...my Y/N...I wonder if Lord Ayato has any ideas on how to propose," he ponders to himself, unaware of you hiding behind a tree. You had come back a while ago, but quickly hid when you heard Thoma talking about you. His nickname already had you fidgeting in embarrassment, but the idea of a proposal? You almost let out a squeal in excitement.

You call him a term of endearment first

It was a rare lazy day for both of you-- Tighnari had no patrolling duties and he was caught up on his research, meaning he could divert all his focus and energy on you.

Currently, you two were snuggled up on the couch enjoying the delicate notes playing from the record player ("It's this new technology from Fontaine!" you explained when you brought it home). His face was buried in your chest, ears pressed flat on his head while his tail resided in your hands, being carefully groomed by your fingers. The more you tangled his fur between your fingers, the louder his purring got.

"Tighnari, you're purring like a tiger," you tease, carefully slipping your hands down to cup his face and tilt it up so he can look at you. You squish his face, forcing it into a pout. He scowls at you, pulling his face away.

"What, am I not allowed to enjoy my partner's embrace? Should I be as stiff as a board?" he mumbles, burying his face in your chest.

"No no, it's cute I promise, love," you laugh, reaching back for his tail. You're unable to catch it as it starts wagging animatedly. You glance down at Tighnari, who willingly matches your gaze. There's a light of amusement shining in his eyes.

" 'Love?' " he inquires, and you smile down at him.

"Yes, is that a- wah!" you're cut off mid-sentence as Tighnari pushes himself up and straddles you, his clawed hands sliding up the side of your body.

"I want to hear it again, Y/N."

He calls you a term of endearment first

"Hey! Not so tight!" you whine, shooting a half-hearted glare at the forest ranger. He ignores your complaints, continuing the wrapping of your injuries.

"It needs to be tight to prevent unnecessary blood loss and make it harder for bacteria to enter the wound," he explains, carefully tying the bandage up. "I wouldn't be doing this though if some lummox didn't go into the withering zone without their weapon."

You cross your arms and look away from him in defiance, jutting your bottom lip out in a pout. You forgot to check your bag before you both went out, meaning when you arrived to clear the area out, you were weaponless. And those fungi did not go easy on you. Near the end of it, you were carried back to Tighnari's house with bruises and scrapes all over you.

"I thought it was in my bag."

"You were sorely mistaken," he chides, then turns to pack up his medical supplies. He leaves you alone for a bit and when he returns, you're hugging your legs to your chest. Anyone with eyes can tell there's a gloomy air around you.

"I'm not mad at you," he carefully reminds you, stepping closer. "I was just worried. You can't go rushing into danger unprepared."

You don't reply, still refusing to look at him. Tighnari sighs and plops down in the seat next to you, wrapping his tail around your body. You instinctively scoot closer, leaning onto him.

"I care about you a lot, and if something drastic were to happen to you-" he doesn't finish his sentence, biting his lip. Silence falls over you two, the clock on the wall ticking away.

"You're very special to me flower," he whispers. You jolt at his words, glancing up at him with wide eyes. You try to stammer out a response, words getting twisted on your tongue. He takes your hand and squeezes it, silencing your attempts to talk.

"Promise me you'll be more careful."

Now is "lummox" or "flower" the true pet name? 🤭

@seirenspinel Per your request I added Diluc cause he's my bbgorl and I wanted it to be 5

I personally don't think Kaeya's would call you a snow-related nickname? Even though Cryo is his vision does this make me hypocritical? maybe.

Lmao at this point this is becoming a series. Oh well! Requests (sfw and nsfw) are open~!

[elemom]

What are your thoughts on Echo and Dr. Julien's relationship?

Hi anon. I sure hope you’re prepared for a yap sesh!

I have SO MUCH to say about them.

TL;DR: Echo is Julien’s son AND his deeply flawed creation. And that dynamic is Difficult.

We’ll start off with:

Dr. Julien’s Perspective

Ok so i think the most important thing to get outta the way is that i don’t think Julien is *evil,* but rather he occupies a “creator” dynamic with echo (and by extension, zane) i’ll explain more, hopefully

I personally think Julien created Echo out of desperation and loneliness. The first time he was lonely, back in the birchwood forest, he built zane, and that basically fixed his loneliness problem. After such a long time in the lighthouse, he was desperate for *anything* to help him in his isolation.

Thus, I don’t think he was in a clear mindset when he was creating echo. Fueled by grief and a little bit of hubris (*he created mechanical life for crying out loud, he should never have to be alone again when he can just infinitely create consciousness!*) he used zane’s blueprints to build a brand new nindroid.

As the process went on, i think he lost more of that clarity and ended up wanting this nindroid to be a new zane, something he would later be deeply ashamed of when he realized he basically just built a replacement son. Once echo is complete enough to be activated, I think he realizes just how bad of a hole he’d dug himself. He’s disappointed: not in Echo, in but himself. He tried to create a life in the image of someone else, and he couldn’t even do that right.

Which brings me to the “creator” dynamic. While Julien sees Echo as a son, he also sees him as his creation; he’s something to fix and perfect and fine tune. Echo is imperfect, and as a creator, Julien wants to fix those imperfections. He views Echo (and zane) as sons, but also as his creations, and that’s a *really* hard dynamic to balance.

(as an aside, I dont think echo or zane mind getting tune ups/upgrades/etc. I think a lot of the internal conflict julien has with echo is because he needs *so many* fixes that it’s hardly feasible to do, so he’s left dealing with echo’s imperfections and echo is left as kind of A Mess.)

Now all the stuff I mentioned above about the creator + creation dynamic is still there, but I don’t think it’s the MAIN thing going on. I really truly believe Julien was a good father to Echo despite their circumstances. Like, I think he made Gizmo as a buddy for Echo like he made the falcon for Zane, he made toys and stuff for him, played chess with him, etc. However, I think Julien’s disappointment with himself and his regret over creating a replacement for Zane occasionally comes through.

Which leads me to…

Echo’s Perspective

Echo is completely 100% trusting of Julien. That’s the big thing, I’d say. After all, it was Julien that gave him life, who cares for him and reassures him when he’s down. (And he’s also the only other person Echo knows.)

It’s this trust that leads to Echo’s…. Issues. See, Echo eventually comes to realize something’s up with how Julien sees him — or at least, how Julien seems to act when certain topics about his creation come up. Like I mentioned in his section, Julien can’t hide the disappointment/regret/etc he feels about creating echo — none of which are echo’s fault of course. But echo sees that he’s imperfect and that his father sometimes gets upset and he blames himself for that.

Echo knows Julien doesn’t hate him. He knows he’s trying his best and that he really does care. But he still wants to do everything in his power to make Julien happy. So he’s keenly aware of how he’s Not Zane and how he’s Not Perfect and how his father created him to Be Zane but didn’t do a great job at it. Julien always reassures him that he loves him, and it’s true! Julien *does* love him. But Echo feels like he could be doing better.

Depending on your interpretation and headcanons and AUs and all that, Echo can stay in this state of trust after s2 (waiting in the lighthouse for an eternity) or go in the complete opposite direction (Rejecting the idea of being Zane and becoming Mr E)

I might go into more detail about Mr Echo and how being found by the SoG impacted his view of Dr J. If you wanna see that, I’d be glad to infodump abt it on another post :3c

I also have some thoughts about Why echo got left behind in the lighthouse, but i dont think any of them were out of malice on Julien’s part. Some are worse than others, but I think he wanted to go back Eventually.

Maybe he died shortly after s2 and didn’t have the time to go back. Maybe Echo had shut down due to malfunctions and Julien didn’t know he was alive (Gizmo would have repaired him before the events of s6). Or maybe Julien was procrastinating, because he would have to admit to zane that he tried to replace him. Or maybe he just forgor 💀

ANYWAY thanks so much for asking!!! If you or anybody else ever wants to hear any more hcs feel free to send me asks about them. Because I have a LOT to say. I have put enough mental energy into thinking about the jfam that i could probably power Los Angeles for a month.

(disclaimer, many of these HCs come from melting together a bunch of ideas from fanart and fics and HC posts on tumblr, so a lot of these thoughts aren’t original.)

[kimbapisnotsushi]

here have a medley of miscellaneous timeskip pro team headcanons bc WOW i haven't posted in a while and this is my only stress outlet other than binging new series <3333

starting off strong with ejp raijin LET'S GOOOOOO

washio 🫱🏼‍🫲🏼suna 🫱🏼‍🫲🏼komori: being EXHAUSTED from carrying the pro team world on their backs

no no i'm kidding. mostly

they keep a tally of other pro team matches in which their former teammates go up against each other and are REALLY smug if their respective teammate wins. which means you get shit like this

komori, cheerfully: "so how about that hornets v falcons game last night, huh?" suna: "oh shut UP tell iizuna tsukasa that aran-san could kick his ass any day of the week you little SHIT - "

they ARE united on the jackals front tho. all three of them want the adlers to go down HARD.

is suna nursing a grudge against ushijima from high school? yeah. is he ever going to get over it? probably not.

only komori feels bad bc he is fond of kageyama, but, hey, family's family

they ask washio why he hates the adlers and he looks them dead in the eyes and goes "hoshiumi kourai . . . he is a man that requires constant vigilance"

actually wait i know we all saw everyone watching and talking about the game (which makes me wanna cry SO bad) but god. how fucking funny would it be if players from monster gen convinced everyone else on their very professional and very mature teams to take sides

ejp raijin captain, who's been friends with hirugami fukurou for like ten years: "okay so explain to me again why we need to blow our entire team budget on jackals merch when we're not even going to the goddamn game?" komori: "well, it started on a cloudy but beautifully crisp spring day in 2012 - "

SPEAKING OF TACHIBANA RED FALCONS

hakuba joins the team, sees aran, and IMMEDIATELY starts texting the old kamomedai group chat

altho tbh i don't think there's no way that the "who-from-where-made-WHAT-pro-team" news never breaches the high school circuit. like come ON you know everyone's keeping up with the third year stars when they graduate

by the time the first years are third years they've got everyone pinned down on a fucking MAP. they have a shared file where they update each other on EVERYTHING. it's way less creepy than it sounds they're just a really passionate bunch okay!!!!

well that AND they can't help but brag about their amazing upperclassmen

okay sorry back to it. so it really goes more like

hakuba: "HOLY SHIT OJIRO ARAN FROM INARIZAKI IS HERE" suwa: "hakuba, we already knew that. i linked the article when it first dropped, remember?" hakuba: "yeah but it's still so WEIRD like it's OJIRO ARAN from INARIZAKI" hoshiumi: "lol atsumu told me he talks in his sleep, go find out if it's true"

aran actually does recognize hakuba mostly because gin paid him a compliment ONE (1) time and then aran had to listen to atsumu complain incessantly about the "stupid wall of muscle with stupid hair and his stupid height and stupid arms" ever since

ALSO. i think people get hakuba and hyakuzawa mixed up a lot. they've both got a similar height and build and hairstyle and play the same position

(not to mention the similar backstories)

it becomes a running joke throughout the pro leagues and makes for a fun time with falcons v warriors matches

in the event of a hyakuhina hookup (which i feel like actually could happen) they somehow get onto the topic of "haha it'd be even harder to tell them apart with your eyes closed!" and hinata, without thinking, goes "well, i probably could" and everyone is like "WHAT"

he digs himself an even deeper hole by saying "no, i just meant - i know hyakuzawa's body really well!!!" and everyone immediately starts screaming

poor hyakuzawa is dying on the inside

i think shibayama (MY BELOVED) kind of occasionally forgets that he also has his own fanbase and is sort of semi-famous as the libero of tokai heavy industries esperanza bc. he knows kenma and yaku and lev and komi and yamamoto and fukunaga and, in general, a bunch of people that he believes are much more well-known than he is

he's always so flattered whenever someone stops him in the street to ask for a pic or when he sees posts online gushing about him

this is extra funny bc he never talks about his friends like they're famous so all of his teammates don't really know that shibayama is friends with all these other famous people

and then one of them, an avid kodzuken fan, spams their group chat when kodzuken's newest video is released and shibayama shows up in it

they're like "SHIBAYAMA!! HOW COME YOU NEVER TOLD US THAT YOU'RE FRIENDS WITH KODZUKEN??" and shibayama is like "i have?? i talk about kenma-san all the time??" and they're like "YOU'RE TELLING ME KODZUKEN IS THE SAME KENMA-SAN WHO RIPPED HIS HIGH SCHOOL JERSEY TRYING TO JUMP OVER A FENCE???"

(shibayama's second year. they'd been dealing with things. it worked out, in the end. even if they had to lie to nekomata and naoki about why all their jerseys ended up with holes in them.)

i love the pro teams you guys they're so fucking funny

[perlen-gold]

Of Fairest Flame

Yeah, I'm TOTALLY on time for this (wait, it's already November you say?!) but this is something I've been working on for @ainurweek for Day 9: Melkor I Mairon

(I have something for Day 1 - 8 too... just not yet finished... it's a good thing I'm never late.)

Read on on AO3 or under the cut as it's so long 😆 (and also totally unrevised ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ).

Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated ❤️ though I can understand if you're too bored to read!

Also, I'd like to thank the people here on tumblr who encouraged me and assured me this was a nice fandom. Having been a wholly silent part of this fandom for years and years this is the first thing I have picked up the courage to share and I want to tell you, guys, THANK YOU! ❤️❤️❤️

At Mairon’s feet the whole world was made of gold.

When he passed, even the black-oblivion, obsidian-sleek walls of Utumno lit brazen-bright. Pits of bonfires woke beneath the iced rocks, and gilded flame-tips licked at his limbs from the sheer walls of Angband, polished to hot embers and glowing coals in his presence.

Wherever he trod was the flame of his hair. However dark the night, its lustrous strands wove glowing rubies into the roaming night. Whatever darkness he summoned around him was pierced by the golden gaze of his eyes.

His shadow dissolved into a golden crown when his fairness shone forth as he willed it to as leaping water over steep stones and cleaving rocks.

And I saw him take it, this heated glow of his as he had taken the rising crown from my hands. Oh, I had stared at him, harder and deeper than any mountain flesh or gaping chasm. I could have struck him down, torn him asunder as easily as I called spitting heights and depths to my biding. And yet his flame never even flickered in my direction. Not even when scornfully he took the gleaming jewels, heady with his disdain, from me. For my little flame did not shape mountains and chasms.

Gilded iron was his alloy and will his anvil.

It was beauty alone that Mairon shaped.

Patient, or as patient as I would, I watched him call forth in the forge the spearing splendor of my crown and the hideous shape of Orcs under the skies just as meticulously.

There is a fearsomeness in unpleasing appearance and Mairon knew it well. The dread Orcs inspire in the common man was of his design also, naturally.

So was the stronghold of Angband. A rock-hewn fortress of efficiency, warfare and secrecy, I never tired to wander its complexity, wondering and, with all my heart, occasionally longing to fell it just to see how Mairon would rebuild and recreate its terrible beauty all over again, though I never told him so. He knew anway, of course, and kept his keen golden eye on me like a wolf guarding its prey.

Yes, ghastly they were, the creatures Mairon unleashed upon his foes, the heinous Orcs and gruesome goblins, mountain-trolls and blood-teethed wolves, swathed in the blinding darkness of my Balrogs and fire-drinking dragons.

Mairon, however, ceased to be fair in battle.

Oh, he could have seduced most of his adversaries, forced onto week knees with his sorcery many more and all the rest. But a cobra will not feed upon limp flesh, the cheetah must race, the falcon swoop to pierce the songbird onto its claw.

And so, with his flickering flame-smile, Sauron, as they called him, set a different trap entirely to spring.

The light upon his face was an uncanny ally of his.

Illuminating the finest of his bones to marble-cutting flawlessness.

Chiseled heights, darkness and light were there ought to be neither, glowing shades and whisper-gleaming rays of sunlight beneath a blackened sky.

His voice rang the air like silvered iron, mellifluous and haunting at once, as commanding as a furnace and as tender as a caressing hand, his laugh bright sunlit pearls and cruelly suffocating ashes.

At the dawn, on the shore of battle, the highest elven kings, fiercest queens and most spirited warriors rode for him without hesitation. Sauron, the cruel, they murmured stern-faced among them, and he was indeed wickeder than any Orc or Balrog of mine.

They set out and rode and stroke to earn their place facing him, swords held aloft, their steadfast resolve soaring to shield their people and beloved ones and let detested Morgoth’s lieutenant perish at last.

What they met utterly unnerved, unrooted, unhinged them.

Comeliness.

Handsomeness.

Fairness.

Pulchritude.

Beauty.

Those are mere words. Spoken tumbling winter-leaves struggling to paint a hail storm.

He was all and naught.

And more.

And more.

And more of it.

Both women and men trembled in mesmerized dread and eerie, bloodcurdling want, gaping upon him. Intoxicating pleasure rose in them when they first caught his eye. It was like pain to them.

 By then Marion’s battle-born strides would have become languid-long strolls. The few who still had any morsels of wit left about them tried to break away their eyes from the light-infused apparition frantically, searching for the malice of his mace, gripping their swords with their sweat-slippery fingers.

It always charmed him into the smallest, most dazzlingly curving smile. They almost never realized that to Mairon the sword tip’s deadly dance was just another art, another craft to design and shape.

The most valiant were always wild on their obedient horses to shoot like arrows at him.

Towards the end, they all fell, crawled, cursed, glowered, quivered under the tip of his iron-clad foot. I have always thought him nearly never more beautiful than when he coaxes his cruelty like a lover’s kiss before the bite.

Around them their friend’s torn faces and daughters’ and sons’ smeared lips, honeyed with crimson blossoms and singing gold flowers. The unnatural light painted the blood-gasping ground and changed their fallen comrade-in-arms’ gruesome wounds to crimson-cold brocade.

Mairon had them between his teeth till they died of bliss and horror alike.

Until they sighed and shrieked and moaned and wept.

 “You are Sauron,” they would utter, staring, accusing, spitting at him.

Oh, yes, Mairon said. Smiled. Oh, yes, yes.

Sometimes the very young ones, well-trained boys and girls, would beg him then. Then, Mairon’s rose-soft, velvet-curling lips smiled even more beautiful.

Around him the thrusting, piercing, blood-lilting, iron-soaked air was limned with gold. In this pause, this endless biding of time against the grey-spraying portrait of misting blood and blooming battle he liked to pull off his helmet at last. Slow and delicately this one, rapidly in a great sweeping arch the other time.

It is the last thing they always see.

The reaching length of his hair curling into sunlit waves of gleaming water ripples, his sun-shaming light pouring as endless waterfalls.

The pinkish tip of his tongue a glimpse between his curving gold-dusted lips in the moment of his kill.

In the blink of a startled eye, Mairon’s beauty rippled into a haunting, living, wraith-like phantom.

The high-browed elven lord’s eyes always widened and their lips spit on the ground before his last smile.

Before he opened them as ripe figs bursting on touch.

When I came forth from my fortress, the ground shook with satisfying anticipation and a rumble swept through our armies, his and mine, mine and theirs. As I stepped forward without forewarning, the roiling battle was surging under Mairon’s sway as usual.

A draught of wind … I could listen to the softness of Mairon’s petal-perfect skin in it. I could savor the unnatural shadows illuminating his brow and cheekbones in the exact, precisely perfect way whispering across his features and taste the whipping of his hair in my mouth, scarlet-sizzling as coals. On his flaming head his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smooth black somehow enlightening the flawlessness of his features even more. His iron-slinking armor, sharp as curving wolf teeth, clung to the virtue of his shape. His fiery hair, tamed in the forge only, was afly like shimmering birds. I saw it whip through the air as Mairon turned abruptly around even before the roaring Orcs next to me blinked at my sudden presence.

At once, I saw the flare in him bright as sunlit gemstones as I set foot on the battle field, his intricate thoughts shooting like spider’s webs into a myriad of calculations at once.

The mind of any other Valar and their servants are like lily-bedded ponds. Deep their water runs but slow, and the pebble thrown barely bounces across the surface. The ripples are soon gone.

Mairon’s mind, however, darted like fire prancing, dazzling to watch its hundred and thousand swift flickers.

I seldom partook in battle and, oh, hard it was becoming already to stifle my laughter.

Promptly, I could see his clever embers stirred in their battle-focused ash-bed, swiftly and instantaneously.

Ah, how often had I thwarted his meticulous plans in the past before for no obvious reason – not obvious to him, that is – at all?

Sometimes I had leapt into action when he would have stalled my impatient hand, sought to preserve what I annihilated and at other times I had cherished what Mairon had deemed worthless.

So wary was his gaze as it first flew into my direction like a sleeping volcano’s first spark that I could sense a thousand thoughts ignite into a hundred interweaving sparks at once. He knew I was seldom to do what he bid me to and never to follow a plan to its end.

Oh, but he was a quick-bright little flame, and whatever havoc I wrought upon his elaborate schemes he would never be surprised nor deceived twice and what could scratch upon the perfection of his composure once never did even reflect on the polished marble sheen of his features ever again.

Oh, but he knew me so well indeed as the fire knows the logs it steadily consumes. It had become increasingly hard to catch him unawares, to make mark any impression upon his clever, ever-calm countenance.

A thousand wiles I had played upon him through the ages already and a thousand predictions and presumptions were lapping at his iron-clad feet now.

As soon as I set foot on the ground it trembled and Mairon’s gold flame hair was afly.

Instantaneously, his face turned in the direction of my arrival and, though he was far away on a lone hill, in the midst of battle, a commander of forces who would be commanded by none other, I could see his shimmering beauty whip around.

Belike, I would seek his advice or perhaps I would undo all his careful webs and sunder all his admirable designs upon a mere whim of mine –  he was fascinated and loath to watch me do it.

So, as the ground rumbled beneath my iron-clad footfalls and even the darkest creatures of my armies shrank away in fright, I could see him not step back like them but instead devise and foretell a thousand things to be prepared for me, to predict my wisdom – of which he doomed little upon me – and envision the chaos I could wreck.

Bright could I see the light of his mind as he drew it, keen as the nimble blade he was wilding.

A lesser being he was, yes, so much more fragile and less mighty than I. But none of the other Valar, let alone their servants, possessed his mind’s spark-gleaming quickness, second only – or so I hoped to believe – to my own infinite-stretching mind.

Golden thoughts sparked within it, darting as light, trying to decipher the cause and – more important in Mairon’s glittering mind – the ends of my wild stepping into battle.

Again, I almost burst out laughing.

My hammer, however, dragged a gaping gorge behind me. I did not lift it nor unleash its deadly power and that, I think, a brimming in my chest, is what drew Mairon’s suspsicion most.  

From my path, my army swayed, Orcs and darker creatures shrinking back.

But I am a god and it took me scarcely more than a few strides before I reached him.

Mairon’s face was like marble showing neither dent nor impression whatsoever. If I had knelt at his feet his splendid expression would have shattered – but in my mind the idea I carried within me was of another kind and I brimmed with the anticipation of it.

Ah, how unearthly, uncannily, unrelentingly beautiful he was!

Mairon, His sword reluctantly held, raised his gold-infused gaze at me.

Inside the dazzling gold there were cold calculation and smug disdain aglitter.

Ah.

That potent mixture of mocking smugness and complacent taunt.

I have never told him that, though lesser in being, immortality and power, Mairon’s visage bore one fruit none other in Eä could offer.

In all other beings I had seen and sniffed it, beasts and birds, elves and orcs, wild things and god-like creatures alike. The other Valar, too, I had seen the sheen of it upon them – why, even Manwë – and it had filled me with glee unimaginable.

Not him, though.

Never him.

Forest of giles, oceans quick as arrows and mountains sharp as knives, I could see a whole world blazing in his aureate eyes.

Even smug disdain, if he had the nerve for it – and Mairon almost always did. Even, in those rarest moments when he was most unguarded, trust.

Amidst the tides of our forces I stood still in front of him. On Mairon’s flaming hair his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smoke grey, somehow illuming the brilliant symmetry of his features even more, his iron-slinking armor sharp as wolf teeth clinging to the sculptured fairness of his shape.

That fierce serpent beauty flashed. Yes, my lord? What is it that drives you forward to my meek reign?

The scarlet flame of his hair tangling around him in a windless breeze, a luscious bow, mockingly coy, of curving lips and white teeth. I could hear his voice tingle in my head.

Having left your hideout, is there something you ask of me?

Ah.

Insolence and impudence. Arrogance. Amusement.

A whole world but never fear.

I could have wrapped my hands around his slender neck and squeezed without even a gleam of scare in him. I could have lifted my hammer, torn the earth beneath his feet, dictated the skies to strike him with thunder and lightning.

Ages and aeons ago, in the sweltering gleam of Aulë’s forge, he had spotted me among the darkness long before I revealed myself. His eyes shone in the dark brighter than any cat’s. Instead of raising his voice, crying wolf and havoc for help, he watched me and I could feel his gold-gaze lingering.

I went back to my underground halls that day, pondering that brazen insolence just to return the next night trying to break his unwavering gaze.

“How do you know I will not smite you where you stand?” I asked him upon the next day in the deserted forge when I let go of the shadows at last to bend over him.

He cocked his head like a bird and returned, smug as a raven:

“How will you know I will not betray you where you sit?”

The cheek! I was a poisonous viper and he was another and, oh, how fiercely I wanted him to be mine, mine, mine then and mine alone!

His soft neck was between my hands before even he could elude me. Instantaneously, the gold in his eyes sparked with realization and horrified shock of what I was about to do in a split heartbeat ere I was upon him. His lustrous hair whipped like gold ribbons in a wind where there was none, his skin was iridescent in his otherworldly apparition-beauty.

His gilt-rimmed pupils dilated but it was already too late.

I pressed my mouth amidst the surging battle forces upon his pearly lips and kissed.

Flame-swift, Mairon’s rage was so instantaneous I had to swallow my cackling laughter just to prolong the touching of our lips a little longer before he could defy me.

A conflagration met my mouth and I, made of ice and fire, allowed him to singe me till I felt actual pain for I burnt and grinned now beholding the utter outrage in Mairon’s gold-limned eyes.

I could not fathom what incensed him more – the fact that I would do this outside the secrecy of his sweltering bed chambers or the incidental truth that I had accomplished to take him yet again by utter surprise.

Suddenly, the hot-white rage came, ever more terrifying and beautiful than a thunderstorm.

He looked like he might have struck me down then and there, me, in front of everyone.

Then Mairon turned – not because he could not but would not strike me – and away he  went like a conflagration to ravage the battlefield, descending upon our enemies as the sun, golden-bright and blind-burning, veiled in the light of stars and comets, and I watched him, his beautiful blaze transforming into a wraith-like furnace which he cast upon the enemy so that neither elven nor mortal survivor – if they survived – would be able to look  at a beautiful face, be it fair maiden or lovely lad or sweet rose, and bear it ever again.

As my thunder-laugh broke from my chest the ground around me shook and shuddered.

Pierced as though scorched, the swelling of my lower lip seared.

Oh, I was looking forward to golden vengeance he would spin to wreak upon me.

I laughed.

[yandere-daydreams]

‘al’ means ‘the’ in arabic, and the character is named after ibn al-haytham, a famous mathematician and astronomer, ‘al-haytham’ meaning ‘the young falcon’. obviously hoyo does not give a fuck so the character is called alhaitham with no hyphen or space. typically you would write it as Al-Haitham, but a lot of people, specifically native arabic speakers have taken to calling him haitham, as al is just an article. if you wanted to you could even type it as the traditional haytham, it’s really up to your personal preference since there tends to be multiple spellings of arabic words and names

hmm i see i see,,, hoyoverse does definitely have a habit of just mashing multi-section names together for the sake of simplicity (zhong li as zhongli my beloathed). i do think alhaitham is a little more passable specifically because he's named after a historical figure and therefore his name is a little more of a homage than a direct pull, but hyphens cannot be that expensive. i think i'll probably stick with alhaitham just because that's what's commonly used in fandom spaces, but perhaps there will be the occasional haitham. as a treat.

[thebiscuiteternal]

I am a dumbass and accidentlly deleted the ask while trying to edit the draft, which meant typing it all over again, but here are some notes for the nonnie who asked for more of the reverse Nies with a larger age gap.

This Huaisang is probably one of my most quiet and withdrawn ones. Being the only child for so long meant he was given no slack by the grown-ups, so any frivolous things he likes are buried way, way down deep where they can't be mocked or taken away from him.

He still paints on the very rare occasions he can get time to himself, and he looks after the sect's hunting falcons with great zeal (a trait actually encouraged by Papa Nie, and the first thing they actually bonded over), but he never lets anyone see the paintings and he is so, so careful not to let himself get too caught up in wanting, or even looking at less "useful" birds.

Ironically, two of the people he was closest to before the murder were Wen Ruohan and Wen Xu.

The former was like an indulgent uncle (he thought at the time, though he came to question that quite a bit later), always praising his cleverness and never forgetting to bring a gift when he visited, and the latter was the one to sometimes drag him out of his metaphorical defensive shell and off on an 'adventure' (usually ending in some new food he'd never tried before).

He was introduced to the Lan heir and spare as a child, but he and Xichen never hit it off like Xichen and Mingjue would have (they're... okay, just kind of blandly polite to each other the way they'd be expected to be as sect leaders) and Wangji was of the age where he didn't like anybody.

Due to becoming sect leader on the same year he would have been sent to the lectures, he has to miss them. Lan Qiren "sells" him copies of the materials with the price being he has to keep up some kind of correspondence to show he's actually reading them at least occasionally. They become friends? Sort of? Though it's more like an amiable mentorship.

Mingjue is a rambunctious little hellion from day one. His laugh is loud, his crying is loud, and the only two people he actually calms down for are his wet nurse and Huaisang.

There are those in the sect who accuse Huaisang of trying to hoard Mingjue's attention and mold him into a less-than-proper heir to protect his position, which Huaisang tends to roll his eyes at because 1) who would want the kind of sect leader role he's been crammed into, and 2) it's deeply rich that they accuse him of doing the same thing they want to do to his baby brother.

Whenever Mingjue is being a particularly big handful, Huaisang calls him "Beastie"(<3) or "Little Monster"(<3), which just makes Mingjue laugh and laugh even though he has no idea what the words mean.

Mingjue's first word is "Ge" to the surprise of no one and the annoyance of many.

Mingjue's favorite animal in the whole wide world is tigers, and it's common to see him clutching a stuffed one as he snoozes in Huaisang's lap.

Once he's weaned, Mingjue loves mushed up fruit, but he likes gumming on preserved meat the most, because he is his father's son. Huaisang makes sure he always has snacks on him, and this also winds up forcing him to quit skipping meals because Mingjue gets snippy and won't eat without him.

There are nights where Huaisang is just so tired and so miserable from constantly fighting to do anything without being judged or second-guessed that he just wants to curl up in a ball and cry until he's empty, and then Mingjue will crawl across the bed and pap his face with little baby hands in a demand for sleep cuddles and the love of and from his baby brother is usually enough comfort to get him through to the next day.

[n7punk]

“Slipstream” Fic Notes

Slipstream is done after growing far beyond the “simple hacker fic” concept and honestly Mara’s so cute I can’t even be mad. Fic notes below.

Playlist:

I’ve got the playlist here, but other honorable mentions I listeded to on repeat during this just because I wanted to: The Sex Was Good Until It Wasn’t album by XANA (it dropped in May and that shit is still on repeat), SUCKERPUNCH album by chloe moriondo (for chapter 6), PVRIS’s entire discography (I was going through something).

The Kicker — XANA

Good Luck, Babe! — Chappell Roan

Diet Heartbreak — chloe moriondo

TRAUMA BOND — poutyface

Albi — XANA

Rly Don’t Care — chloe moriondo

Chaos Is Love — K.Flay

Teenage Nightmare [unreleased demo]

What’s My Age Again? — Emilia Ali

Late Bloomer — Allison Ponthier

Holy Revival — Maisie Peters (ignore the verses)

Femininomenon — Chappell Roan

Mercury In Retrograde — Avril Lavigne

NIGHT IN JAIL — Rachel Bochner

my best friend’s ex — emlyn

Even If It Kills Me [unreleased demo]

Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl — Chappell Roan

Sirens (feat. Sophie Powers) — MOTHICA

Homewrecking Era — XANA

Obsessed (feat. Ashley Sienna) — Sophie Powers

Obsessed — Astrid S

Look At Her Now — Selena Gomez

Pretty Girls — Renee Rapp

Cruel Summer — Taylor Swift

Picture You — Chappell Roan

Epilogue Life:

It takes a few months for Catra to feel like she has any handle on “parenting” or any right to even think that term about herself when she’s still a newcomer to Mara’s life, but Mara has accepted her at that point, it’s Catra and her own lack of a parental figure that is stopping her. She never would have accepted someone trying to come in and parent her after being so jaded from the first few years of her life (see her  relationship with Adora’s parents in high school), so she’s expecting Mara to be a lot more hesitant and take “convincing”. She wants to give her the time she needs, but Mara had a loving parent growing up and doesn’t see adding Catra to that role as a bad thing.

Mara also has a little kid understanding of the world, so to her the instant Catra and Adora are dating she’s her stepmom, not because it’s that easy, but because obviously dating = will get married, so there is no point “fighting” something that is inevitable. Even though her parents don’t talk to each other, it doesn’t occur to her that people break up under normal circumstances. Her dad has hurt her mom and her a lot, he’s a bad guy, and Catra isn’t that, so why would she ever leave. They’re both girls and gay, they have no need to breakup. Life isn’t that simple, but it does make their relationship transition pretty smooth from Mara’s perspective.

Catra still insists on the stepdad thing and it becomes a family joke. Catra tells Mara it’s because it would be too confusing if they were both mom and Mara accepts that without question, because she is actually right. The reasons for stepdad are multi-layered, like this addition which helps Mara accept it: Mara wants someone good to replace the force of rejection and imbalance her bio dad was, so she’s more than happy to have Catra take that mantle instead. Catra wants to replace him as well, for many reasons including her own selfish hatred of him, but also her own insecurity. She knows she can be a better parent than Falcon, but she doesn’t think she can ever be equal to Adora and thus an equal mom. Adora’s parents weren’t 100% wrong when they mentioned the butch thing either because it is my headcanon Catra is a little GNC at times. Not really anything deep or strong enough for her to identify any particular way, just something that means she wouldn’t mind stepdad or “sir” even without all those other layers. Eventually a lot of those factors stop seeming like such a big deal but at that point it is just a family joke that never really dies. Occasionally once she’s in high school Mara calls her mom, but mostly Catra is “Dad” or “my stepdad” when being referred to singularly, and then when Mara is referring to both her parents she calls them “my moms”. Which does confuse people and Catra finds that funny.

When Mara is in high school and the age Adora and Falcon were when they started dating, Falcon finally tries reaching out again. That was a phone call Adora never wanted to get, but he’s not coming back to the country — he does still have those debts waiting for him, after all, and unable to pay them back, the stress would take him right back to that mental state he fled — and he’s not trying to rejoin their lives, he just kind of wants to know what happened after he left. Adora is angry and tells him he doesn’t have the right to know that after what he did — and she’s right — but later she still regrets it and, after talking to Catra (who also tells her she was right and she shouldn’t call him back and open that door back into their lives for him, but sits by her side when she’s on the phone to support her when she insists on going through with it), she calls him back. She only gives him the very high level stuff: she started dating someone right around when he disappeared, and they’re married now and happy, and she has become Mara’s new stepdad — something Falcon thinks she says as a pointed jab not knowing that’s really what Mara calls her — and Mara is doing well despite Falcon messing up her sense of trust and safety as a little kid, and definitely doesn’t need him fucking with her again by trying to contact her now. Adora makes it clear this is a courtesy she is giving him with the understanding that, now she has volunteered the information, he isn’t going to seek any more out or bother them.

That holds kind of true. He checks in with Adora around high school graduation just to make sure Mara made through it okay — he can’t help but remember around this time he was ruining both their lives — and to see if she plans to go to college, which she does, and then he calls again three years later just to see if she’s still on that track, which she is. He never calls again and Adora never knows if that’s because he moved on, or got closure, or lost their number, or died. Mara knows he called to check in on her once or twice but Adora didn’t tell her until she was an adult because she worried about reintroducing all that old uncertainty and fear back into her life, and at least now no one can force her to see Falcon if she doesn’t want to.

Catra seriously considers hunting him down after he goes dark, but she has done what she can to close the illegal chapter of her life and she knows Adora wouldn’t be happy with her reopening it — especially when she’s a little rusty — for their own closure with him. Catra didn’t exactly succeed in turning over a new leaf overnight, but she did greatly reduced her law-breaking, leaving only little slip-ups that happened every few months until she managed to stretch a gap long enough for it to become permanent, the impulse no longer second nature and her episodes of feeling untouchable either more rare or focused on something other than being unafraid of the government. She does stay in the cybersecurity sector professionally for a long time and works alongside Entrapta several times throughout the years.

I’ve kind of talked about this before and even included it in the concert scene, but Catra and Entrapta do kind of keep  referring to each other as partner occasionally and honestly neither of them are really sure how they mean it. They never formally said “QPR over”, they said “no more physical affection (sex)” and they remained very close, though it felt like it did end more definitively when Catra eventually moved in with Adora. That took her longer to do than it usually does in AUs due to both her happiness/comfort with Entrapta, trying not to “upset” Mara by forcing the change on her, and Catra still needing the ability to get distance from them for the night sometimes while dealing with her own demons, but those slowly disappear as Mara lets her heal her own childhood and she sees she can be a good parental figure with experience.

Chapter 1:

⦁ “Slipstream” was once again a temporary placeholder name that became permanent. It’s a reference to the hacker Slipstream, one of the names behind the Nintendo gigaleak.

⦁ Entrapta’s daily energy drink limit is by no means her daily average, but any day drinking seven energy drinks is a bad one. She doesn’t actually drink Monster every day… Just like 95% of them. And she is a lot more likely to drink 1-3 than 5.

⦁ Okay I’m like half bullshitting the tech speak in this fic. The 20 minute decryption Waffle House thing? Yeah that’s actually optimistic. The kid who hacked the CIA did that exact thing and took 30 minutes to log on and he still eventually got caught.

⦁ Close followers of my Tumblr will already know Adora Maria is reference to some terrible  “wrong” trivia answers to a question about She-ra’s names.

Chapter 2:

⦁ Steps (loosely): 1) Identify absolutely necessary files and save them, 2) Paste contents of other important word/text files into empty cloud documents she can download later (cleaning metadata), 3) Create a new encrypted email on a totally different machine (in this case, Catra’s clean laptop she had with her), 4) Forward absolutely necessary emails to new address (being very selective), 5) Delete what accounts it’s reasonable to just nuke, 6) Completely wipe computer and reset it, 7) Change first the associated email and then the password of all other accounts in a closed environment (Catra’s laptop) and turn on two-factor for absolutely everything that has the option, 8) When all information has been reset, delete old email in closed environment as insurance.

⦁ Adora’s scent changed some with pregnancy and then the rest with lifestyle changes.

⦁ Mara comes out to check on them because Adora told her an old friend from high school was coming over and she wasn’t making the happy sounds she makes with her friends. When she realized Adora was stressed she got worried, doubly so when she said it was grown-up stuff, because that grown-up stuff could be Mara-related — especially since she knows Falcon is causing problems with child support even if Adora tries to keep her from hearing about it too much — which is why Adora invited her out to see it’s really okay.

Chapter 3:

⦁ Originally when I wrote the group chat there was nothing differentiating who was speaking, but I had the idea to use emojis like profile pictures to make it more clear. The scorpio icon was originally head-in-the-clouds (high af emote), the star was originally just a sassy emote, and the dragon changed the same. I ended up changing them because a reader sent an ask letting me know that the emotes wouldn’t translate to epub format and the Scorpio and star “emote” are part of the standard unicode colored symbals, so I’m hoping they’re included, but I also don’t have any way of checking without just uploading the thing so this was my best effort. I kept the dragon even though it’s not included because I was too attached and only one person missing an icon would at least differentiate it from the others still.

⦁ Adora named Mara after her old teacher Mara because she was the only out lesbian she (knew) she had ever met. She was pretty quiet about it to not get harassed by parents, but she wasn’t about to lie about it, and she would talk about Hope when prompted. Adora admired that back in high school thinking she just Respected Her Ideals™️ and later realized it was more than that.

⦁ Catra’s conflicting feelings looking at Mara hugging Adora’s hip are actually less because she’s remembering her father and more remembering she was doing that to feel safe and she doesn’t like to think she’s making a kid feel unsafe too.

⦁ Adora’s habit of rubbing at her tattoo (versus something like the back of her neck) started when it itched a lot while healing. She has terrible tattoo discipline and really shouldn’t get another one because she couldn’t leave it alone.

⦁ You might be able to tell here, but originally Mara was intended to be older (8-ish or something) but I didn’t want them to separate that long. The timeline is already kind of screwy because even with Adora a year older Mara should actually be four with pregnancy time, but shhhhhh.

⦁ Oh my god I wish more people knew the difference between the deep web and the dark web. People act like they’re interchangable when Facebook qualifies as the deep web. Catra is a deep web miscreant, not the dark web.

Chapter 4:

⦁ Perfuma doesn’t know they’re cyber criminals but given the jokes about felonies she can guess that’s the only thing that makes sense, and then she elects not to think any more about it because they’re really important to Scorpia and she wants plausible deniability.

⦁ Obviously Catra hadn’t said Adora’s name yet, but Adora is such an Entity in her mind it feels like everybody should think about her as much as Catra does.

⦁ Perfuma would have to be totally oblivious to not pick up from the conversation that Catra had a crush on Adora in high school, and knowing what she does about Adora’s comphet she just kind of assumes it was the classic “crush on a straight girl” that went nowhere until Catra left school. She’s not about to embarrass Catra by bringing that up to Adora, but if she knew how serious it was and had a hunch how Adora felt she might interfere.

⦁ Table break lore. I wouldn’t say this is a reference so much as a shared headcanon that previously came up allllllllllll the way back in Drawn Into The Music, where Scorpia breaks a table trying to lean on it while drunk because Biceps.

⦁ Mara’s set up is basically what I had as a kid. When we were little we had the “kid computer” which belonged to someone back in the day when it was actually considered a good machine. It didn’t have internet and was just for playing games (which were all offline at that point in time). When we got old enough for the internet we had a  software that only let us browse for like 30 minutes each day and I think had an automatic filter of inappropriate sites? If it did, the site list was very minimal and I never ran into any issues personally, but a software that blocks pornhub isn’t a bad thing for a five year old to have even if I’m generally against online surveillance lmao. It’s not making a list of sites she visited for spying purposes or anything, and generally Adora tries to be in the room with her when she’s online (in-game or not) because you know. Super young. She’s really busy though and sometimes has to rely on the idea that the parents of Mara’s friends are doing the same thing and monitoring them so they can keep safe. That is not always true.

⦁ Adora tousles Mara’s hair and pets her so much because that became one of the ways she knew how to express affection with Catra and now it’s just ingrained as a part of her.

⦁ Semi-related, she and Catra didn’t actually meet until middle school in this ‘verse and had about five years together before Catra’s breakdown.

⦁ Adora’s tattoo is the season one sword in a deep maroon and then the gem in the center of the hilt is the sunset ombre from the lesbian flag. Catra just thought the lines were black because she couldn’t see that shade of red.

⦁ “The breakup” here is code for “uncomfortable sex experience”.

Chapter 5:

⦁ Catra was about to say she doesn’t get on her knees unless a pretty girl asks nicely before her brain caught up with her mouth.

⦁ Adora was absolutely not going to interrupt because she was smitten watching them interact. She never in her wildest dreams thought Catra would do more than tolerate her child at best, but she forgot the factor of her kind of outweighed the factor of child.

⦁ Uhhhh. So. Alright fuck it. Catra was in a mania fit when she broke into the mall. That can come from a couple things and I’ve experienced it once I think, but yeah she really should be on mood stablizers and just refuses to see a professional about it. Once her life stabilized and she essentially had Entrapta as a safety net, knowing she wasn’t going to kick her out if her work lapsed, it made things a lot easier, but her constant vigilance against authorities could just as easily be seen as appropriate vigilance as it is paranoia (primarily socially-unacceptable anxiety).

⦁ Catra doesn’t know how to categorize her emotions outside of bad criteria so any strong emotion gets categorized as “breakdownable” or not but that’s definitely not what she’s feeling here, having emotions just feels like she’s dying.

⦁ Bella Sara supremacy !! 🗣️🗣️I don’t think it was available on the Vita lol but it was in THIS universe.

Chapter 6:

⦁ Catra was, subconsciously, still trying to delay the inevitable of Adora and Entrapta meeting by meeting with Adora and Scorpia downstairs. When they finally came home and it was time, Catra basically tried to get everyone settled in the living room and her own bedroom without “bothering” Entrapta, but she did vaguely greet them when they got home. Their first real conversation was the one in the bed, though.

⦁ Adora is the type of drunk to try to perpetuate her own existence. If you look away from drunk Adora for a second she’s doing another round of shots and trying to get herself hospitalized.

⦁ “Adora shouldn’t be worrying about this” yeah this reaction has nothing to do with cheating, Catra, that’s just all she can do with her jealousy reasonably.

⦁ The Scene (1)

⦁ Belgian Boys mini pancakes my beloved

⦁ Okay so “cheating” per se isn’t so much a thing in their relationship, but by the idea that there are rules and they have an understanding which involves not messing around with other people without notification/permission, then yes cheating is a thing. It would  be shitty for Catra to do anything without letting Entrapta know she intends to, which is the entire point of the fun pass.

Chapter 7:

⦁ Catra didn’t really have a sex addiction or anything she was just really, really lonely, knew people found her hot, and needed reasons to stay at other people’s places, so it ended up as a perfect storm.

⦁ “Put the kid on and let me talk to her” from Catra “I’m just tolerating the kid” Meow Meow.

⦁ Yes I know that “bludgeoning weapon” was not at all correct. But it sounded good, and that’s what writing is sometimes.

⦁ “She tells herself Mara would miss her gifts and then immediately questions why she needs to tell herself anything at all.” Idk Catra I think Mara might miss you as a little more than a gift-giving source. She might be really broken up by you not coming around. (You would also miss her but I’m not even going to pretend you’re open to that idea)

⦁ IDK CATRA MAYBE THE KID WANTED TO BE AROUND AND TRUSTED BY YOU. IDIOT

⦁ The Scene (2)

Chapter 8:

⦁ Turnabout’s fair play and we’ve gone from Adora thinking she can’t stay over to Catra thinking it. These two lesbians just need to accept they’re equally needy.

⦁ “Hoodwinked” agenda !! In all seriousness I haven’t watched it in years so I’m not sure if it holds up, but I loved that movie as a kid and so did my mom. I watched it so many times.

⦁ “Tax-free” is in reference to the final line of the chapter, where Catra has some (minor) dues to pay for how she has lived her life, but it’s nothing more serious than what she has already done, because as awful as she often thinks herself, most of what she did was just surviving under hard circumstances.

Chapter 9:

⦁ Adora has it right with Falcon. To him, he and his girlfriend had sex bad enough for her to realize she was gay (he was not being a good partner for that because he didn’t notice she was uncomfortable, he was just thinking three years together made it about time), he suddenly has a kid at only 19, and his now-ex he was planning to marry can’t even look at him. He already had gambling tendencies and really fell on it with the stress of college and navigating the kid situation, and then everything snowballed because the debt got bad enough he couldn’t make tuition and his stress went even further through the roof when he was forced to just get a job to pay what child support he could, and then he starts getting these threats and at that point completely starting over is looking pretty attractive. Whether or not he was in the right has no effect on how his brain was able to handle it and Mara’s inception turned out mildly traumatic for everyone involved.

⦁ “The fact that Adora is right to have her suspicions is annoying.” That’s a little thing called guilt, kitten.

⦁ I don’t know what my thing with Albuquerque is but whenever I think of someone going into hiding/leaving the country I think of them doing it there. I’m sure it was used in some piece of media I consumed when I was young and that’s where it came from because to my knowledge it’s not an international flights hub.

⦁ Glimmer is one of those people who will drop in the group chat like hey who wants to see a show in two weeks and then just buy tickets for everyone. This was actually arranged months ago, hence the Star siblings not thinking about the timing and having a conflict, and it was before Perfuma and Scorpia even started dating.

⦁ Melendy Britt was a voice actress on the OG cartoon and like a third of the female characters, playing Adora amongst others. She was recently at the MOTU SDCC panel.

⦁ In most ‘verses I think Catra loves music, she just has a specific history in this AU that makes it a weird thing for her because she knows it was robbed of her but can’t try to get into it now because that’s acknowledging everything she has lost.

⦁ The brain development thing is actually a myth and it varies wildly between people, but Adora’s parents are also the kind to sincerely believe you’re only using 10% of your brain at any given time.

Chapter 10:

⦁ When I was initially figuring out what to do with Falcon, I wasn’t really sure what to do with him. I wanted to get him involved in criminal stuff Catra could uncover so he couldn’t be around Mara anymore, but I was also hesitant to do that because Adora’s life is in a precarious place without the child support. I also didn’t want to make him into this caricature of awfulness when he was once Adora’s longterm boyfriend and thus at least seemed decent. Then I remembered Catra has a tech sector paycheck and I could easily just run him off at that point.

⦁ Honestly, now is probably the time to admit that every third time I went to write Falcon’s name I almost wrote Sea Hawk just because they’re so similar, which makes sense since Falcon was invented to be Sea Hawk’s ex, but it was a struggle the whole fic lol.

⦁ Okay, but what did happen with Falcon and the money/threats? Well, Catra had it pretty right: they were sketchy people, and criminals sure, scammers definitely, but they weren’t actually going to send hitmen after him or anything. He was never in any danger. Leaving the country did actually give him a new leaf though and he was a better person with it, managing to build something even though he was still struggling with his gambling addiction. He wasn’t able to keep any kind of savings going as a result but he at least learned not to spend money he didn’t actually have and get in debt. He managed to find a small pension job and get help for his anxiety, which let him at least a small modest life.

⦁ Mrs. Bee is Sweet Bee.

⦁ I meant to have a conversation about swearing they never ended up having. Basically, Adora vaguely tries to censor herself, but things like “oh stars” come naturally to her from her parents, “fuck” just also comes naturally from everyone else in her life lol. Mara knows kind of what swear words are and that they’re “adult words” you need to be older to understand the impact of, so when Catra (or Adora) does inevitably swear in front of the kid, it’s  not much of a big deal. Catra ends up making it out to be a bigger thing in her head and putting more effort into censoring herself (read: any effort) than Adora does or cares. Eventually they do talk about it when Catra takes a bit more of a parental role in Mara’s life and is trying to figure out what that entails.

⦁ There’s this tendency for people talking to kids to refer to their parents as “your mom” rather than like, their name which you would be using in any other context. Catra has had a secret rule — secret even to herself — that she’s going to keep Adora’s name and not do that “your mom” shit. Well, here she is doing that shit, and it’s because she feels a lot less like she needs to distance herself from Mara — and thus the concept of Adora having kids — than she did at first when Mara quite frankly terrified her.

⦁ “I didn’t remember your phone number-” a straight up lie, “-and I wasn’t about to go back home under any conditions to ask your parents what you were up to,” will turn out to be a lie.

Chapter 11:

⦁ “It’ll even look bad on Mara by the time of their next zoo visit.” Oh? Are you planning to be part of that visit, Catra?

⦁ (I am not personally a big fan of bucket hats but there are times when they look really cute — yes even on adults — Catra’s just a hater)

⦁ Catra’s description of how the magicat crowns work is actually how her mask works on her official doll. In the case of the magicat queens, though, the hooks were more like a fallback because the mask was made to be so perfect against their face its weight was distributed over the entire thing and the small hooks just kept it from getting out of place.

⦁ Catra’s freakout is very funny to me because kids will play with literally anyone they like but Catra has so little experience she thinks this is what fatherhood is. Not that she isn’t a Trusted Adult to Mara but most of her “signs” would be there whether or not they were dating.

⦁ “It’s also partially that she isn’t ever going to be a father to anyone, and thus using it has more joking distance that feels marginally more acceptable.” She’s a dad within six months lmao.

⦁ Being a parent doesn’t come naturally to a lot of people, and Catra is one of those, so for most of the fic you don’t really get to see her in “parent mode”, and I do worry where it leaves off some people will see her as not a good step-parent for Mara, but that’s a slow process for her to reach. The fic would have to drag out a lot longer before it could reach  the point where it’s natural for her. For most of the first year she feels like she’s horribly flailing during every interaction with Mara, and that doesn’t change with this chapter, but she does internally accept that this is a role she’s going to have and wants to take  up, so while she still jokes and occasionally slips up, she does love the kid and is doing her best.

Chapter 12:

⦁ I’m basically picturing the Home Alone house for Adora’s parents but I don’t remember it from the movie, I remember it from the LEGO set. So do with that what you will.

⦁ Marlena knows what she’s doing and she’s just trying to feel Catra out because she never would have pictured her becoming a parent in high school, but she also knows, both logically and from her phone calls with Adora, that Catra has grown a lot.

Original Outline:

I actually have my original idea for the fic still written down from a Discord conversation with a friend so here it is in its entirety:

vague idea is catra + entrapta are a hacker duo and they’re a thing. adora's organization is data compromised, forcing catra to get back in contact with her to help her fix it (vaguer idea is adora works for a nonprofit or something. dont hold me to that) like catra independently finds out there's a security vulnerability and is like fuck i have to be a good guy about this Maybe Catra tries to hack them to spy on adora because she misses her and then she gets way too much way too easily.

So yeah obviously a lot changed. Another idea was that Catra had to protect Adora from people trying to get her for… IDK, something Catra uncovered that Adora didn’t even know she knew (or at least didn’t realized was incriminating enough for people to want to cover it up), but I don’t really like writing action lol.

Everything changed because I had been wanting to write a single mom Adora fic too, just didn’t have anything written for it. In the initial version of Slipstream, I had no background for how they drifted apart, and the comphet backstory for the single mom Adora fic slotted nicely into Slipstream’s empty past, so I combined them so I could write both at once, especially because (as evidenced by how little was in the outline) I didn’t have any kind of ongoing plot after they reconnected that I actually wanted to write (again, action ideas are fun, but not for me to write). The new story gave me a lot more avenues to explore relationship dynamics as a big element for all the characters, and thus gave the QPR more relevance and let me portray something I think is kind of rare. Entrapta’s relationship with relationships in this fic is really personal to me and it kind of stuck out as a little out of place in the old idea, but in this version of the fic it works into the overall themes of relationships, self-denial, and accepting that what satisfies you isn’t necessarily the thing that will make you happiest and that’s worth whatever risks are associated with it.

I want back and forth on the club chapter and the following revolving around a few points: should they actually kiss in the club or just come close, should they kiss in the kitchen, and should they get evolved enough in that kiss for Adora’s hand to reach Catra’s tail. I kind of knew the latter would be too far, but ultimately decided the first two were permissible within their rules.

Meta:

Adora’s floorplan

Upcoming:

Next up will be an OotW oneshot. I’m also working on the Lightbeam sequel fic, and lowkey another AU I’ve been teasing, but I don’t think I'll have time for them before Sapphic September starts and I chip away at some of those prompts, so we'll see what’s going to shove to the forefront first, so stay tuned IG lol

[ceruleanwhore]

People have talked about how a lot of the Ikemen games give all the suitors pets, so I thought I’d make a post of what pets I think the ikepri guys would have. 

WARNING: there’s a spoiler about Gilbert at the end, but the kind where you’d probably have to look something up to know what it is. Take that as you will.

Jin would absolutely have a small monkey that he’d wear on his shoulder into town as another way to pick up women. I could also see him training said monkey to steal little things from particular people he points out both as a way to get stuff from people for like his job but also as another, more contrived way to get women to talk to him. Think about it: Jin having his pet monkey steal a beautiful woman’s scarf so she has to chase it back to him and then he pretends to be surprised and disappointed that his pet did that and returns the object to its owner who now is falling for his charm and starting to think that maybe the monkey isn’t so bad.

Chevalier would have a cat because, as Sebastian from Black Butler once said, they do not say useless things or do them, plus they tend to be independent, clean, and kill vermin. He’d manage to find a cat that’s pretty much silent and never meows and also is fairly independent so, aside from occasionally curling up on Chev’s lap (silently) while he’s reading, it doesn’t require much from him.

Clavis would get a loud, messy dog like a rat terrier or a hound that he would deliberately not train to get rid of those typically undesirable behaviors because he likes the chaos and it annoys Chev and Sariel.

Leon would have a peregrine falcon. In older times, like the sort of time period ikepri is set in, there was a hierarchy of which birds of prey guys could have depending on what their title was as royalty or nobility, and princes got peregrines, so I think that’s appropriate.

Yves would have some kind of bird, I’m thinking a rosy-faced lovebird. I could see it being a gift one of his brothers brought back for him from another country where they’re native, since it seemed that Yves could use a friend.

Licht would have an Irish wolfhound that he’d take for very long walks every morning at some ungodly hour when normal people are asleep.

Nokto would have a ferret. Being as clever as he is, he’d do well with an equally clever pet, plus he’ll be able to properly care for it and train it. I could see him teaching his ferret a bunch of tricks, including sneaking into locked rooms and unlocking doors from the inside.

Luke would have a fucking badger. Idk it just makes sense to me.

Sariel wouldn’t have a pet of his own but, since the king’s death, he would take over the duties of caring for the late king’s gyrfalcon until a new king is chosen and that bird then goes to whoever Emma picks to be the next king. This is also coming from that bird hierarchy I mentioned with Leon.

Rio would have a bunny because it reminds him of Emma. He is a golden retriever, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to then get a dog, but something that reminds him of his beloved Emma makes sense for him. He’d ‘joke’ about how it’s to keep him company while she’s at work and how he pretends it’s her and they have long conversations or whatever.

Silvio would have something really small and cute like a stoat that’s like the dead opposite of Silvio. He would’ve rescued it somehow and from there he’s just really attached to it and protective of it.

Keith would be really fond of the fish in the pond at the Jade palace and that’s as close as he gets to having a pet because he’s a sad boi who doesn’t trust himself not to hurt the things and people he loves.

Gilbert would have a golden eagle (more of that bird stuff) and he would 1000% keep that secret from anyone outside the Obsidian royal palace, because it’s a giveaway of who he really is. Also, I feel like he would actually have a close relationship with his bird, plus I do think rather than using the bird for hunting like actual royalty did, he would use it to intimidate people and also to send messages occasionally.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find four lines

Thanks @melpomene-grey here!

Rules: find four lines in your WIP that match the prompts, then change ONE prompt for the next people!

A line about music

From The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

“Hey, Ash, what instrument do you play?” “Oh,” she looked down at her Falcon Intermediate Band t-shirt, “euphonium. And occasionally tuba if needed.” “I sit near her when she’s playing tuba,” said Gwen. “But it depends on which instrument I’m on.” “It’s cool you can play more than one instrument,” I said.

A line about pain

From The Secret Portal Part One (Jedi POV)

The world around me spotted as I dropped to my knees, bending over. My teeth soon couldn’t push against each other any more, and my voice ran out of my body in a cry that I didn’t know it was capable of making.

A line about isolation

From The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

But despite that feeling of isolation, I didn’t care much, since I had Akash. We were both a little lonely, but being lonely together was better than being lonely alone.

A bittersweet line

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Noelle POV)

I hope you know he sees you as…” she cleared her throat, “a sort of…” she waved her hand, “protégée, I guess.” I felt a pang in my chest. I knew the word Dr. Asghar was searching for was probably deeper than that. In truth, Jedi was becoming a pseudo-mentor for me. I didn’t have any adult male figures in my life that I could look up to, but knowing that my biological dad was out there somewhere made me hesitant to call Jedi anything more than that: a pseudo-mentor.

Tagging @sunset-a-story @somethingclevermahogony @novel-nook-blog @leahnardo-da-veggie @authorcoledipalo

Your lines will be: a line about music, a line about pain, a line about relationships, and a bittersweet line!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2024

Day 14 - Telling

Curiously A‘viloh looked up to the blue sky and tried to imagine what the star constellation Rael talked about looked like here in the Sea of Clouds. A’viloh had asked about their studies and for a while now Rael had tried to explain to him the basics of astrology.

„So what do the stars tell you? Will we soon be able to leave Coerthas and go back home?“, he wondered and turned a tarot card around between his fingers.

Rael shook their head.

„You know, astrology is not exactly fortune telling, A‘vi…“

„That’s a shame…“, A‘viloh sighed and plucked an apple from the bag between them.

„Besides…“, Rael added with a bit of hesitation. „Eorzea isn’t my home…“

His ears twitched and A‘viloh sat up as if he just remembered a very important detail he had entirely forgotten.

„I am sorry… I’m behaving like an idiot and forgot you probably feel even worse…“

„No.“, Rael said but kept browsing through the astrology book in their lap looking for an illustration they had wanted to show the Miqo’te. „This is not what I was trying to say…“

„I remember you said you were homesick. Is that what’s bothering you lately? I can imagine this place must be horribly different from your home?“, A‘viloh asked and eyed the viera, hoping to see some reaction, something that would make him understand them a little better.

For a moment Rael just silently stared at the book in their lap, but clearly without reading it, then they closed it and instead turned their gaze to A‘viloh. „It indeed is very different and you are right…but that’s not all of it…“

Attentively the Miqo’te looked at Rael and waited for them to continue. It was very apparent that Rael chose their next words carefully.

„You know, I realised you and me are not so different after all. I am not at all better than you. Not wiser, not more unfailing and certainly not braver. Everything that ever made me special was my magic but—“

The screech of a bird echoed through the air and both of them looked up to see one pass by far over their heads. The silhouette was difficult to recognise from this distance but A‘viloh thought the call had hounded like a falcon. The Ishgardians sometimes used falcons and owls to deliver messages over longer distances and judging its direction he assumed that this one could be headed for the Rosehouse.

„What were you trying to say?“

As he looked back to Rael, the Viera’s eyes still followed the bird gracefully sailing through the sky on silent wings.

„Mh?“, they snapped back to attention as A‘viloh spoke again. „Oh… yes! Uhm… Astrology! I was trying to say that it helps greatly to not feel as useless around here! As you know I am mostly trained in magic but you see, even here in Ishgard as strange as it might be, there are still new and interesting things to learn even for me!“

A‘viloh eyed them sceptically. Their voice sounded entirely different now, much more casual than before and somehow he doubted that this was what Rael had been about to say.

But why wouldn’t they be telling the truth?

„You see, all I am trying to tell you, A‘vi, is that maybe you should try learning something new too? If only to keep you busy until Yugiri returns with information. Lord Haurchefant once mentioned one of his friends is developing a new fighting technique at the Skysteel Manufactory, that is so easy to learn he even recruits common people with no experience in fighting at all. Maybe you could visit and see if it interests you?“, Rael explained and smiled friendly at the Miqo’te. But it wasn’t the same smile Rael wore when they truly were happy about something. It was the smile they used on strangers. To reassure them that everything was perfectly fine, even if that occasionally was a lie.

“I don’t know…”, A’viloh answered, more wondering about if there was a way to ask Rael about it without accusing them of lying. But that opportunity seemed gone.

[culturalmochiart]

Your secret identity AU has plagued my mind so harshly-

I want so many details on it (also your art is fucking GORGEOUS and yummy)

~A-Anon

THANK YOU!!!!! OOOO okay okay umm hmmm

I haven’t drawn it in a while, admittedly but lemme try and write down the general timeline. It’ll get a bit long so I’ll do a read more PLUS there will be spoilers for the whole au down under :)

So it’s like pilots/season 1 era, after saving Nya, her and Kai go back to their shop, Jay lives with his parents, Zane stays at the monastery, and Cole probably camps around nearby since he can’t go home.

Zane is the first to reveal his identity, figuring he doesn’t remember anyone from his life, so he can’t put anyone in danger. Wu is a little annoyed his student disobeyed, but he sees Zane’s logic and knows he meant well. Things continue on, feelings start to develop, and the timeline starts to move.

The ninja will occasionally interact while in civvies, but again, they don’t know who is who so they interact differently than when under the mask. Kai thinks jay is annoying and doesn’t like him spending so much time around Nya but he LOVES blue and thinks his same jokes and mannerisms are silly. After the reveal of Zane, he starts tutoring Nya which Kai feels soooooo normal about. Jay goes from having a crush on Nya to becoming her best friend, as they have late night talks and both discover maybe they don’t feel romance in the typical way, and definitely not for each other. Poor Cole is just hanging out in the woods :(

Things skip to around Home and Snakebit, Zane finding the bounty is just as angsty but more so bc it’s stretched over a few days, and he misses his tutoring sessions with Nya which worries THE HELL out of all of them. Wu likely stays with Kai and Nya, Kai telling her his home burned down and he needs a place to stay for the moment. I imagine they see the falcon flying around and follow him to the bounty, where Zane is waiting with a meal for them :]

Jay is revealed next in snakebit! He’s a mamas boy and tells his parents everything, and they’re supportive!! So they don their most clever disguises and go for a visit!! They’re so excited to see their boy they call him by name, so oops!! They get to meet Jay AND his parents!! Kai breaks for a while bc the guy he likes is also the guy he dislikes, and he’s weird for a while until he notices Jay doing the same cute things he did as Blue and

When Jay visits Kai and Nya next, Kai is a lot more civil if not a little embarrassed.

In the snake king, Kai learns Nya is Samurai X, and she ALSO learns Kai is one of the ninja. He keeps the others’ identities secret because it’s not his place to tell her.

We eventually get to tick tock, Zane regains his memory and unlocks his true potential, but he’s a little more sad after, because now he knows theres no one out there looking for him. He falls into the comforting embrace of his teammates. In once bitten twice shy, instead of confessing to Nya, Jay confesses to Cole, Kai, and Zane. This is when they start dating!!

Cole is next!! He’s revealed during his true potential episode. Instead of having his teammates help him win the cup, he decides to go at it alone but in some way or another, the others decide to join in and help him win. Cole reveals himself backstage after the concert when he confronts his dad, and Pythor, seeing that one of the ninja’s parents is in the open and vulnerable, takes his chance to drop all of the equipment onto Cole and Lou. They’re okay of course, but it ended up being quite the scare.

Kai is last to his potential AND his reveal. He knows Nya is capable and that she can handle herself in danger, but the incident with Cole and his dad has him afraid for what Pythor could do to her, his only baby sister. He’s also nervous that if they knew the true him, they wouldn’t like him as much as they do now. All his fear causes him to distance himself from his boyfriends, he loves them deeply, but the danger of it all makes him question whether he should keep being a ninja. All the fear and doubt and his rush to reach his true potential is a very bad combo of feelings that culminate in the volcano with Lloyd.

He feels that he can prove himself worthy of being green ninja and that he’s good enough for his bf’s by getting the fangblade, bc if not for him being special, what the point of keeping him around? Idk it’s a lotta self doubt like in the actual show but gayer.

He hears Lloyd call out to him, realizes what’s truly important, and reaches his true potential. Everyone is waiting on the ship with bated breath as the volcano explodes, too shocked to feel any emotion at the moment. And then they emerge!! In a ball of fire, Kai and Lloyd land on the deck. Maybe the lava caught his mask, maybe his fire subconsciously burned it away, but Kai is revealed in all his blazing glory to the shock and awe of his boyfriends.

Lloyd runs to his dad, and Kai is dog piled by his boys, green ninja stuff happens, and that’s basically the end!! I’m sure I didn’t include every little detail but this is basically the gist!! :]

An older doodle for u too <3

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hii!

I was wondering if I could request a romantic matchup? I really love your writing! I’d love it from Star Wars or marvel ( both if you’re feeling particular nice but either one will do)

My pronouns are she/her and I would like to be matched with a man.

A little bit about me: I love psychology and literature and I’m a very big family person.

I love to read and write the occasional poetry. I loveeee dogs ( I have one right now) and I’m pretty funny.

I get pretty self conscious, but on the off days I’m not in kinda like the life of the party and I’m very hyper sensitive to people emotions and reactions.

I’d say I’m pretty smart and focused; and if I have a goal in mind I almost always get it done. I tend to be a little hard on myself but I’m working on it and o have a really sassy streak.

I love making people laugh and feeling included; but I’m still searching for my ‘person’ yk? I’d say I’m pretty smart and sorted and I love trying new things.

I’m pretty spontaneous and I love my culture (I’m Indian) a lot. My favourite tv shows are friends and Brooklyn 99 because I love things that make me laugh; and my secret pleasure is that I loose soft toys.

My love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation, and I love talking to people about anything.

My favourite artists are Taylor swift, one direction, Sabrina carpenter and Gracie abrams to name a few and I’m really into cricket and f1!

Yeah that’s a little bit abt me hehe; thank you ik advance !!

Here ya go! I always do all listed fandoms, (my longest matchup request was 10!) they are never a burden to do and always fun so I don't mind doing them! You are free to even request more too. Anyhoo, I hope you like your matchups! <3333

---

(Romantic);

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Star Wars;

Han Solo:

🌙 You met Han before he met Obi-Wan and before he met Luke; just maybe a couple of months before - though, you weren't a bounty hunter or anything, you were just doing your own thing

🌙 For some reason, the two of you worked together, traveling space together - you and Han work well together - though you and him sometimes butt heads - you get the work done; somewhere down the line, you and Han became a thing

🌙 You and Han, when not bounty hunting, you and Han chillax. Resting in the Falcon, you reading while Han fidgets around with some tech that he's trying to fix - though sometimes if you have no more books to read, Han is more than willing to teach you how to fly the Falcon, (he probably won't let your fly all the time, maybe if there is an emergency, but it's fun overall)

🌙 Han is always there to listen to you - he'd be a good listener - just sitting down somewhere together in the Falcon, just listening to you talk about literally everything and everything; this chatting will probably lead to cuddling, maybe even a nap

🌙 You and Han are a pretty powerful couple, the both of you are persistent and do what you can to get what you want - it's hard for the other bounty hunters to track you both down; you always run away scott-free, hand in hand, your laughter ringing throughout the air

---

Marvel;

Matt Murdock:

😈 You actually met Matt when you were called to the stand as the Psychologist in some smaller-lesser known crime court thing - Matt though, when he heard you speak, he was like (★‿★)

😈 After the case thing, and though he could see in a cooler/different way, he was able to follow your voice as you spoke to someone outside the courthouse - he may have slightly spooked you, and you may have been a bit nervous, but when Matt complimented you about your knowledge and how impressed he was; well, swoon

😈 Once official, which may have taken some time, you and Matt move in together and you did a lot together - going to the gym, and listening to your favorite music

😈 A lot of cuddling, just staying up at night - when Matt's not fighting crime - staying up at night together, playing with each other's hands, soft music playing in the background, whispering sweet nothings to each other

😈 And if you're feeling down, Matt will be there for you, trying to soothe you, but if you want some alone time, Matt is more than willing to give you some time and space - he'd probably just go out and fight a baddie, and bring Chinese food home when he does

[fantasyfantasygames]

MiDDDle Space

MiDDDle Space, Stacked Studios, 2002

@identityuniverse sent me a copy of this and I would like to return it please.

The map of Middle-Earth is, as many fantasy maps are, roughly page-sized. It fades out near the edges of its flat world. It is extremely rare for someone working with Middle-Earth to fill in the least bit of that blank space. This game does it in a very unusual manner: it fills that blank space with outer space. It's a little bit Spelljammer, but it's more Starfinder. Elves and Ewarves and even the occasional Ent colony in space, with big ol' spaceships.

"But why the weird spelling?" you may be asking. Well, that's because it's a cross of Tolkien and extremely horny 90's cult TV show Lexx. You know. DDD like a bra size.

Which also explains the name of the game studio.

The setting doesn't bother explaining how anyone got into space or talking about that obviously-Middle-Earth-shaped postage stamp in the corner. It's all about "planet of the Warriors of Men" and "planet of the Dwarven smiths" and "ice planet of the Elven sex clothiers". I like the "Forest Asteroid of the Ents" but that might be more because I love space-forest stuff and Ents. NPCs are bog-standard stock characters who also want to bone.

The rules look kind of like they started off as Rolemaster (MERP, really) hack before shifting over to d20. It uses some custom classes to cover things like the Animist, Mentalist, Mystic, etc. It has plenty of critical hit/fail tables. It ports in some MERP skills directly, overwriting some d20 skills with them. There are places that refer to MERP mechanics like Maneuver rolls, which were not ported in. It's mostly playable if you're willing to do a fair amount of house-ruling.

You have a choice of five ships, with build-your-own ships in a supplement that's "coming soon" (it is not). One of the ships is very Lexx-looking, with the insectoid feel and the phallic look. It's very powerful and extremely unmaneuverable. You can also get a Spelljammer-like galleon with sails and everything, one that looks like an Elven Armada vessel, a vaguely Millennium-Falcon-like ship, or you can each get your own small ship to flit around in. I kinda like that last option. There is never any crew; the ship flies fine with just however many PCs you have. Regardless of which ship you pick, you're going to have a very rock-paper-scissors setup against other vessels and utter domination against anything ground-based.

The art is halfway between Elfquest and Dr. Voluptua. It's all greyscale. I do kinda like that you can see the artist improve in their anatomy and backgrounds over the course of the few years it took to create the game. It does not have a fun-and-sexy sense of humor, and the game plays things straight in multiple senses.

Honestly the thing that makes me unhappy about this game is that it's lazy. If you want to make a horny elfgame (or a horny-elf game), you do you. There are plenty of them out there, another one is fine. But don't make it a knockoff of two or three different IPs, with mechanics from two more, and nothing in it that really provides commentary on any of the above. Do something different or do satire, don't just push out content.

MiDDDle Space was swamped in the d20 tsunami. There were only about 200 copies made in the first place, so it's a bit of a collector's item in some corners.