#battle royale headers

[cillirishan]

Battle Royale 『バトル・ロワイアル』 headers

[rottencherrypie]

R-18+; Positions

Summary - The favorite positions of some of Middle-Earth's finest royals...

Warnings - Smut, language, fem!reader, afab!reader, mention of male genitalia (characters), mention of female genitalia (reader), missionary sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (reader receiving, Fili and Legolas give), facesitting, implied squirting, mention of bodily fluids, cowgirl position, mention of breasts (reader), sub/dom dynamics, implied dom!Reader, implied sub!Kili (he finds a way), praise kink (Kili), slight dirty talk (various characters), slight sensation play, doggystyle position/bent over, voyeurism (Thranduil stop fucking the reader in front of guards), slight dark!Thranduil, slight dom!Thranduil, slight sub!Reader, kneeling, slight dark!Legolas, dom!Legolas, lowkey mean!Legolas, implied brat!Reader, oral sex (Legolas receiving), fingering (reader receiving), slight powerplay (if you squint), possible dumbification (if you squint), implied punishing, cum eating, and maybe more (I might have missed some).

Pronouns & POV - She/Her, third-person

Pairings - Thorin x Reader, Fili x Reader, Kili x Reader, Thranduil x Reader, Legolas x Reader

Word Count - 3,800+ (I got carried away at some parts)

A/N - This is from my suggestion box which I had posted on Instagram (I will add the suggestion box here too eventually), the person who sent in this suggestion requested to not be tagged but I still wanted to thank them for their suggestion! This is more headcanon-like, so it varies a bit in length each section. I did attempt to give some plot based roughly around the suggestion given! There is only the header image in this post because Tumblr would not save the draft with the gifs I attempted to add, so I apologize for that! Reader is implied to have tits and an ass large enough to jiggle, soft hair, and I believe plump lips. Smut below!

Read on AO3 Read on Wattpad

-thorin

Missionary. The dwarven king of Erebor is a man of routine. Whether intentional or nonintentional routines, they are a part of the raven-haired man's life.

He was a simple dwarf, viewing routines and structure as the utmost importance as it was there to prevent chaos—or as much chaos that was preventable within Middle-Earth, which appeared to be close to none.

The dwarven king's love for routine touched all aspects of his life, including the more intimate aspects of his bed.

It was not an intentional routine, but rather a formed one caused by stressors—something he often cursed, but in this instance would thank as it had led him to many pleasurable nights.

It was made gradually, the first few nights of the king's reign after the battle were particularly stressful. He found himself restless, tossing and turning within the fur bedding as his beloved lay beside him—lacking an equal amount of rest due to how the bed shook with each toss of his sturdy form.

So, to settle the king's mind—and to make the bed creak with something other than displeasure—the queen motioned for him to crawl onto her. It was a mere tired curl of a finger, yet the king knew what she was requesting; and what his beloved wanted, she got.

The thickness of his cock slowly split open her tired, wet walls. The weight upon his shoulders eased as the weight of his cock eased into her, a mixture of relief and exhaustion danced upon his face as his hips began to rock at a steady speed. The toned flesh of his hips met against the plumpness of her arse as he slowly wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing his tired cock to carve deeper into her walls.

An act which slowly drifted into nothingness, as the dwarven king soon fell asleep with his head in the crook of her neck after the heat of his seed flooded into her drenched core—coating the walls of her womb with a fresh painting of white.

As the stressors of the crown became more frequent, so did the nights of the queen's comfort. Though, at times that comfort extended into the daytime during particularly frustrating elven visits.

The all too familiar sight of the dwarven king climbing on you filled your view, yet the shade of his sapphire-colored eyes had dimmed with darkness reserved for the elven king of Mirkwood. You were aware of how much the pair despised one another, how their feud over who was owed what had led to death and devastation—yet, you had little time to dwell upon the past as the thickness of the king's cock pushed into your core.

The weight of your head fell back against the smoothness of the pillows, as the weight of your chest lifted upwards slightly, allowing your back to arch and your dwarven lover to gain further access within the warmth of your walls as he pushed into you. The bones of his hips snapped against the flesh of your arse with a rough fury, the slapping of skin meeting each other echoing throughout the room as his darkened eyes peered into yours.

The dwarven king would never vocalize it, but he loved watching the subtle reactions your eyes held as he pounded into you. He loved the ways your eyelids would flutter when he grazed your most sensitive spot, how you would go slightly cross-eyed when you neared your peak, and the way your eyes glistened with tears when he had pushed you to the breaking point one too many times.

Your reactions were routine, and the dwarven king needed routine just like a fish needed water or a wolf needed to hunt. You were his routine, and he needed you like he needed air to live.

──────

-fili

Facesitting. The golden-haired prince was far more free when it came to routines, unlike his uncle. The prince found routines constrictive.

Though he was the heir to the throne, the eldest prince of Erebor preferred to have freedom in his life. He wanted to joust with fellow warriors, to drink ale and dance, and to be free to slip away to breathe whenever he desired.

Yet, his yearning for breath seemed far distant within the realms of his quarters. As much as the dwarven prince enjoyed his pleasures, he favored pleasuring his beloved above receiving his own.

A fact that left you taken aback when the prince had confided in you that he found giving pleasure far more rewarding than receiving it; you had stood there for what had felt like ages to the poor golden-haired dwarf as you blinked mindlessly at him. Had you been dreaming? A man who wished to pleasure another rather than receive it?

"Are you jesting?" The question was quickly met with an amused snort from the prince; the corners of his lips curved into a lopsided grin as his thick, calloused hand cradled the side of your face. "I'll have you know that I take eating cunt very seriously, my love." The dwarven prince promised you.

A promise he showed swiftly.

It was not exactly perfect the first time—though, no first time truly was perfect—but it was unlike anything you had experienced prior. You were not a pure maiden, you had your fair share of lovers before the golden prince, and he had some prior flings as well, yet none of your previous lovers had ever been so eager to feast upon you before.

The prickle of his bearded face sent shivers down your spine as his lips hungrily sucked upon the wetness of your cunt. His hands tightly gripped your thighs, keeping you steady upon his face as his thick tongue lapped up the entirety of your cunt as he devoured you like a starved man with a meal.

Your thighs quivered around the sides of his head as you attempted to hover above him, worried he was not receiving enough air as he drowned himself in the wetness of your core. His skilled tongue delved into your crevices, lapping up every drop of your sweet, pure nectar as he snarled in pleasure.

"Sit on me." The heat of his words caressed your throbbing cunt, making it twitch from the arousing sensation. "But—" Before you could begin your protests, the golden-haired prince tugged you down upon his face.

A surprised gasp fell from your lips as the prince dipped his tongue into your core, happily spelling his name upon the walls of your core as his hairy face ground into you—drenching his beard and mustache with your essence.

The soft prick of his nails would dig into the plump flesh of your arse as his calloused hands held you steady, ensuring that the fullness of your weight would not leave his face until he made it so.

He would continue to feast at you, rocking your hips as he continued to swirl his tongue around your walls. Occasionally, he would slip his tongue out of you, allowing his lips to encase your pretty little bundle of nerves—hungrily sucking upon your throbbing clit until your sweet squirt gushed down upon his face, soaking his beard with your juices before he delved his tongue back your twitching core.

He would drink you like water—and if he had it his way, he would drink you more than he drank water.

──────

-kili

Cowgirl. The youngest prince of the Misty Mountains, Prince Kili, was not the most presentable royal of the line of Durin.

It was not a matter of his looks, though many would claim he was prettier to elves than he was to dwarves: it was a matter of his maturity. The younger prince was reckless, finding pranks and training far more entertaining than the duties of the dwarven courts.

Or, that is what he would claim when asked of his wavering sense of duty. The truth was that the young prince required guidance.

He yearned to be told what to do. The brunette prince despised how he had to ponder decisions, wondering if he would make the proper one or if he would make a fool of himself in the process; he preferred being told what to do and when to do it.

A yearning that had trickled into his nights of passion as well.

You were a breath of fresh air for the dwarven prince. The hopeless romantic of a dwarf thanked his lucky stars each night with you, as you were always to the point and told him verbatim what you wanted from him—and he was more than happy to oblige.

When you had first told Kili of your preference to be on top during sex, it was like a whole other world had opened up for him. He was not necessarily a virgin, but he was not the most experienced of his kin either. He had a few messy encounters that left him feeling less than satisfied and embarrassed.

Regardless of how hard the dwarven prince had tried, sex never felt right to him before his first night with you.

His honey-colored eyes bore up into your gemstone-colored ones, pupils dilated with affection as he watched you climb on him. The roughness of his calloused hands would encase the softness of your hips, lightly holding onto them as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock. The sensation was new to him, the warmth of your walls gripped him in all directions as the wetness coated him entirely as you began to glide on his length.

The bed creaked and groaned with each motion of your hips, his gaze falling from your eyes and onto the flesh of your chest which bounced and jiggled with each motion you made. He was utterly entranced.

A soft slew of moans would fall from his lips, the weight of his head tilting back against pillows beneath him as you continued to pleasure yourself upon the thickness of his cock.

"Fuck, please thrust up, Kili." A request the dwarven prince would eagerly comply to, his hips thrusting up to meet the plumpness of your ass each time you lowered it down upon him. "Just like that. Good boy."

Good boy. A simple name that further fueled the dwarven prince into abiding by your commands, doing everything within his power to please you in and out of his bed in the hopes of being called that delicious name once more.

And a good boy he was.

The dwarven prince was more than eager to please you. Never touched himself without your approval, nor did he touch you without approval—even now as he stared at your pretty breasts as they jiggled in front of his face, bouncing tauntingly as you bounced upon his aching cock.

His balls were filled to the brim with seed, becoming nearly painful from their fullness yet he did not dare release a single droplet without approval from his beloved. He simply lay there, allowing his cock to be used as a device of pleasure for the woman he loved most as she continued to coat the throbbing, aching length with her essence.

"Fuck...that's a good boy." The purred praise of your pleasure would cause the dwarf's cock to stir within your walls, desperately twitching for release. "Alright, alright. You've waited long enough." Your chuckled words would quickly turn to moans as the prince's hips began to thrust up.

His aching cock carved its way deep into your walls, hitting the most special spongy spot within your core in a repeated pattern—as if he was trained to give you pleasure even as he chased after his own. The prince would manage to milk a final orgasm out of you, the essence of your pleasure dripping down and coating his filled balls before he emptied his seed deep inside of you.

The weight of his body sank back into the plush bedding beneath him, as the corners of his lips would curve into a lopsided grin as your soft hands caressed the roughness of his stubbled face while you cooed soft praises to him.

He needed guidance, but he sought it most from you.

──────

-thranduil

Doggystyle. Unlike his dwarven counterparts, the elven king of Mirkwood found solace in his busy schedule.

Where some found stressors in royal life, the elven king found peace and comfort. He would never vocalize it, but he found the hustle and bustle within his daily duties as king soothing.

Perhaps it was how quickly everything transpired, never allowing him a moment to dwell upon the past and all the mistakes that lay dormant within it. Or he sought the chaos of life while others shrunk away in fear of it. Regardless of what it was, the elven king found himself entranced by things done quickly—and this extended into the realms of his chambers.

Though many elves were romantic by nature, playing sonatas of their love for one another, writing endless poems, and spending a tedious amount of time courting, the king of Mirkwood was rather forward.

He saw no point in the pleasantries of courting. After all, he was king of Mirkwood—in his mind, he had done more than enough just by holding that title. However, the king was wise enough to never vocalize his opinions on the matter, as he bit back any snide remark he had on the matter with a bitter grin as he focused on what was important: you were his.

A fact that was well-known to all within the woodland kingdom, as the sounds of your pleasure were ever-playing throughout the twisted halls. Morning, noon, and night. A tune that none could forget, one which the elven king seemed to orchestrate whenever he caught a guard's gaze lingering upon you for a moment too long.

The position was like second nature to you, engraved in the very cells of your body after so much time together with the elven king. Your arse was up in the air as your chest was pressed firmly against the smoothness of the silk sheets under you while the elven king slowly entered you. His thickness parted your wet walls, wetness you were ever thankful for, as the elven king did not seem to give you a moment of breath before his hips snapped forth, meeting the plumpness of your flesh.

His motions were sharp yet poised and precise.

The thickness of his length would delve deep inside of you, as his slender hands would grasp upon the plumpness of your rear. A grasp tight enough to hold you in place, ensuring that your hips never dropped as his thickened length continued to carve into your inner walls, yet loose enough to allow your ass to jiggle as his hips bounced off of it.

The elven king loved watching your ass bounce, it was something that left him hypnotized. The sight of your sweet, plump flesh reacting to his possessive thrusts allowed the weight of his days to melt away—as well as the anger he held towards that damn guard.

The cries of your pleasure would be muffled, either by a pillow or the very sheets you laid upon, as the elven king would lean forward—adding more of his weight into each harsh thrust of his hips.

Yet, there were times when you could not muffle the sounds of your pleasure—even when you desperately yearned to.

At times, the elven king enjoyed proving a point to those he caught with lingering gazes towards you. He would instruct they fetch you from your shared quarters, insisting they bring you to his throne room for something of urgency. And like a good servant to the king, they would.

Within the blink of an eye, you were bent over the twisted throne—your hands desperately clawing at the variously curved wooden throne as the elven king hoisted up your skirts; your dripping cunt on display for all to see, including that damn guard.

The elven king's motions would be swift and fluid, his cock buried deep within your wet, welcoming walls, yet his gaze would not be upon the plumpness of your arse. Instead, his cold, pale sapphire gaze would be locked upon the armored man who dared gaze upon you for too long.

His gaze would be piercing, never leaving the other man as the bones of his hips would snap against the plumpness of your ass, making each thrust sharper than the last—ensuring the swollen tip of his cock would hit against the most pleasurable spongy spot within you.

As your cries of pleasure danced throughout the air, it carried a weight throughout the woodland halls. A reminder to all those who inhabited them that the elven king moved swiftly, and could have you just as swiftly.

──────

-legolas

Kneeling. Due to the ever-changing nature of Middle-Earth, there were very few within it that gave the elven prince a sense of control.

Perhaps it was the nature of irony: a prince who believed he lacked control, heir to a throne yet yearning for more. His logical mind reasoned with this sensation, rationalizing it as nothing more than a search for stability amongst the most recent chaos within Middle-Earth. Yet, the emotional sphere of his mind yelled that it was for something more.

It was a thirst that the elf could not quench nor ignore.

The yearning within him was further than matters of the mind; it felt as if it was in his blood and bones. An unspoken birthright, one burned deep into the very essence of his being—he craved, no, he needed control.

And he found that control in you.

You were one, if not the only, consistency in the elven prince's life. Regardless of what transpired within the woodland realms—or realms outside of it—you were always there, waiting within the secure walls of his chambers, eagerly awaiting him upon the plush bed.

To him, you were a beautiful little doll. His perfect little plaything, the one he adored and showered with affection and treasures. He ensured that you were never left yearning—unless you had been bad that is.

On the days you were good, the elven prince would pull you to the edge of the bed, kneeling between the plushness of your thighs before he buried his smooth face between them. The wetness of his tongue would caress the outerness of your entrance, as the fullness of his slender fingers delved inside of your core.

As the fullness of his fingers would stretch your inner walls, carving and curving into the most pleasurable spots within your textured core, his eager tongue would lap up any droplet of your sweet nectar his fingers would push out. The squelching click of your damped cunt would echo throughout the air, accompanied by your soft mewls of pleasure as the elven prince took his time pleasuring you.

He was precise and calculated with each stroke of his fingers: he knew the inner workings of your cunt better than he knew the back of his hand—knowing exactly which sensitive, spongy spot to press into to make your sweet thighs tighten around the sides of his head. How fast to pump his fingers within you to make your breath hitch from pleasure, and when his lips needed to wrap around that sweet little clit of yours to make you drench his hand—and forearm—with your juices.

But on days when you were bad, or life merely felt bad to the prince: it was you who knelt.

His slender fingers, the ones that once gave you such immense pleasure, would be tangled within the softness of your hair. The grasp he held upon your head depended upon the circumstances of the day—but more often than not, it was firm.

The fullness of his cock would push into your mouth, tainting it with the bitter, salty tang of his precum as he would sink in as far as your throat would allow him—stopping when the vibrations of your gag would echo on his thickened length. Slowly, he would puppet your head upon his cock, making it bob back and forth as he slowly sunk more of his cock into your throat until the plumpness of your lips met the flesh of his abdomen.

"That's it, pretty girl." The elven prince would coo, his sapphire gaze boring down upon you, watching as the thickness of him forced the saliva out of your mouth—stained the faintest hue of white from the mixture of his precum—watching as it rolled out of the inner corners of your mouth and down your chin. "Such a messy little thing." He would continue to puppet your head at an increasing speed, the bones of his hips meeting the flesh of your face as he jutted his hips into your mouth; ensuring he was as deep as he could be within it.

If you had been particularly bad, then he would hold your head firmly in place—thrusting in your mouth at a quickened pace, allowing the weight of his balls to bounce upon your chin, coating them with the sticky mixture his cock forced out of that pretty mouth of yours. As you would cough and gag at the sensation, the elven prince would simply shush you. "Ah, ah, ah," He'd taunt, a purposefully harsh thrust making his balls slap against your chin as he held you steady. "you had such a nasty mouth earlier, why not keep it nasty?" He'd coo, one filled with fake care and compassion—a taunt at your previous actions as he continued to fuck your throat until he painted it white with his seed.

But on the days when you were good and the world was bad, he was far more tender.

Though his grasp remained firm and his thrusts a bit rough, the elven prince was not punishing you. With each gag, cough, or whimper that vibrated upon his cock—he would pull back until the throbbing tip rested upon your plump lips. "That's my pretty girl, such a good girl for me." He'd praise, a hand dropping from the back of your head to softly caress the side of your face until you gave the okay to continue.

A slew of pleased praises would fall from his lips as he fucked your mouth, the weight of his head tilting backward as his grasp remained firm on the back of your head. "I'm going to fill your mouth." He'd gasp out, the tips of his nails digging into the back of your head as his hips stuttered into your mouth. "Swallow it and I'll give you anything you want, my pretty girl." And he did, the warming rush of his salty seed would flood your mouth—making you down it with a choked gag, yet it was still done.

The elven prince would continue to praise you for being a good girl, his good girl, as he pulled his cock from your mouth. The tightness of his grasp dropped from the back of your head, one hand meeting the side of your face to return to the earlier caress as the other wiped away the remnants of his previous actions from your lips—giving him a sense of control as he came down from the highs of his pleasure, the same control he had once sought after.

──────

Want to read one part at a time? Read separately on AO3

Thorin, Fili, Kili, Thranduil, Legolas

Want to read it as book chapters? Read separately on Wattpad

Thorin, Fili, Kili, Thranduil, Legolas

[ssruis]

Touya knowing Tsukasa really well (on the level of saki) is shown best and most succinctly when Touya is the only person to realize Tsukasa did actually include the light years quote in Romeo Battle Royale for a reason. But there’s actually an earlier & funnier example of this: when Touya hears that Tsukasa got nailed in the face with a soccer ball and apparently instantly thought “he probably tried to go for a header and failed”

Point and laugh at him.

[nanamiskentos]

hey mamas 🙇‍♀️ for the “get to know your fic writer” — 3 , 4 , 6 , 11 (cause i need YOU to put me on YOUR fics 🤭) , 13 , 16 (cause im nosy….) , 21 , 23 & 24 (help a hg out), 25 (so i can glaze you), 32 , 39 , 59 , 60 , 64 , 65 (!!!)

okay i’ll get out of here now…

HEYY 🤩 ...i got this notif earlier and saw the no. of questions and decided to eat dinner first bc i needed to be SEATED and with my laptop out ❤️ you came to the right place bc im president and mayor of yap city

— 3. describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

i have like a little template in my drafts with my basic layout (like title, prologue, warnings, pairing etc and so on) and i just keep it to copy and paste for a new fic. and underneath the header and info section, i just outline messy dot points. and each dot point gets turned into a few paragraphs or a scene. and i always have some typa thesaurus open 😭

— 4. where do you find inspiration for ideas

oouh!! mostly song titles i think, i always use them as a jumping point. or actually i really love pinterest, and web-weaving type of posts when it comes to themes i wanna explore (mostly in sfw fics, as opposed to like short smut) 😁

— 6. do you have your work beta'd / how is this important to your process?

nope 😭 my drafts are always super messy and all over the place and im always a little self conscious esp since i jump between ideas and dialogue. BUT i am always yapping in peoples dms and talking abt ideas anyway or getting dialogue checked for clarity...

— 11. link your three favourite fics rn

omg! rent-a-dilf by @screampied i found it sooo charming and effortlessly engaging and also super fun even tho i've never played the sims.

i forgot to like this and add it to my queue so i took an hour to find this particular one, but what you know by @starmapz sukuna and reader are so well characterised and incredibly written! i also loved little yuuji and choso's cameos :(

and they were roommates by @sugoroo i loved it so bad, so EXCELLENT and the tension and smut had me on the edge of my seat. choso's made me laugh 😭

— 13. whats a common writing tip you always follow?

honestly it feels like a cop-out answer but i always try to remember 'unlearn shame' in my head. like when im writing, like for no reason, i get a bit embarrassed or self aware or im overthinking a sentence?? i just have to remember that it is just never that deep....😭

however, a better answer i think would be that for 99% of my fics (so excluding very short fluff, or straight up jackhammering smut) i always always do worldbuilding first. my favourite authors are j.r.r tolkien and george rr martin so middle earth/westerosi levels of high fantasy are massive inspirations when it comes to the grand scheme of creating a world for my characters to interact in.

also i rlly love mythology, folktales and medieval history so they always play a role in how i write or treat common themes. i think its super interesting and poignant at how some stories survive thousands of years and resonate across different cultures, and they remain classics for a reason <333 if that makes sense

like okay say! even in fics that aren't a part of some royal/fantasy/myth au right, like idk say im writing about gojo dying (rip king 😰) its obviously set within the jjk world in 2018, but i would try to see how the following works express the same theme of grief, battle, leaving a loved one behind:

the death of sigurd in the volsunga saga in norse myths

patroclus and achilles in the illiad

a medieval french epic called the song of roland, where roland's death is felt so strongly by his fiancee that she dies

tristan and isolde (tristan being mortally wounded n knowing that he will leave isolde behind, and she succumbs to grief)

the japanese folklore tale of the warrior tomoe gozen, and how she mourns her lord and lover

— 16. how many fic ideas are u nurturing? share one of them!

29! at the moment 😭 and watch me genuinely write like...2... but one of them that i havent even drafted much out yet, towards the end of the list is like geto x reader long fic (prob will have smut bc 😇) but its gonna be an alternative universe where reader is considered a saint/icon/mouthpiece of the gods and he's been marked for death (a warrior? or smth idk)

— 21. would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

i've never done it before but ofc! is this the start of user curtins and user creamflix collab.....

— 23. best writing advice for other writers?

sometimes u have to make sure you're sitting on your own and reading that dialogue out loud, or mouthing it. i'm writing shit and then speaking it afterwards. and i cant even stand to hear it bc no way would anyone ever say that.

— 24. worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

you can't start a sentence with 'and' like wtf okay....who said that. english is made up, all words are made up no one gaf if its not proper english, im allowed to do desi repatriations like this ig

— 25. what fic do you wish you got more of a response one?

hmm honestly, i did have an answer for this at first like 'oh yeah this one xyz i wish it got more notes' but that being said i feel like there's none that i feel truly flopped on par with how im improving writing and getting more comfortable. but! if i had to choose: goo goo muck #1 with the minotaur au because i rlly put some thought into how i could incorporate sukuna, yuji, and yuji's execution with the myth of the beast trapped in the maze.

and ditto! i think its my longest fic so far 😭 and it took me so long to plan out a timeline from childhood to gojo's death

— 32. name three of your favourite fanfic writers?

it would be poor form and incredibly remiss of me to not say user @creamflix 🤭 i really love how ur dialogue flows, and the way you describe scenes make me feel like i'm really there (a+ for me)

also @tonycries simply because every time i try my hand at smut, it takes me 4 days to think of something new, and i'm always wondering on how to reword shit so i'm not writing the same thing over and over, but they keep it soooo fresh and new with every fic and soooo well written!!

@kurooh i always find their smut fics sooo creative and fun, and their recent double fantasy fic was SAUUUUUR good!

— 39. share a snippet from a wip!

nay! mind you, this isn't even proofread so its still incredibly basic and thesaurus.com has not come out....but i tried a mildly different inspo approach and header. its very backstory and angst based for sukuna regarding his childhood, but sweet at the end i promise :(( IM CRYING. im seeing mistakes in this already, but i needed to give uraume my they/them baddie a cameo later in it

— 59. does anyone in your personal life know that you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

im cryinggggg. def not, unfortunately i can't let this get in the way of the public brand #coolgirl but it would go something like this

— 60. have you had a writer that you admire comment on your fic?

🫡 @madamechrissy who's writing my fave bridgerton fic, with duke!gojo commented on my vacation fic and i really did a giggle and kick in the air 😭

— 64. something you love to see in smut?

hmmmm my favourite thing is like when it isn't just pure smut if that makes sense, like setting, atmosphere, or cute banter is incorporated or clever wordplay. like you can feel the vibe of like where its set idk 😭

— 65. tell us what you're most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project?

i really want to improve and become more confident in different genres, like better smut that flows more without me having to stop and stare at a wall for ten minutes each time, or super cute fluff <333333

[usafphantom2]

Spitfire AB910’s last wartime operational sortie – 15th July 1944

Header image: Spitfire Mk Vb AB910 (Photo: Jim Dooley)

Eighty years ago this month, on 15th July 1944, BBMF Spitfire Mk Vb AB910 flew its last operational sortie of the Second World War, with 402 Squadron Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF). This was a two-hour shipping protection patrol of four Spitfires, covering convoys to France, with Pilot Officer Ken Heggie RCAF at the controls of AB910.

402 Squadron was now re-equipping with Spitfire Mk IXs, although not for long as they were soon to receive new Griffon-engine Mk XIV Spitfires. The Spitfire Mk Vs had almost seen their day in the front line and AB910’s operational flying came to an end after 58 operational sorties with 402 Squadron and 143 in total. During almost three years of front-line duties AB910 had played a significant part in the war, including being involved in the fierce aerial battles of the Dieppe Raid on 19th August 1942, and the D-Day operations in June 1944. It was now to serve in a training role with No 53 Operational Training Unit at Hibaldstow for the rest of the war, allowing new Spitfire pilots to find their feet with the type before joining an operational unit, and also achieving infamy by flying with a WAAF on the tail!

Spitfire AB910 is currently undergoing a ‘Major’ servicing with The Spitfire Company at Biggin Hill, which is progressing well, and she is expected to be returned to the BBMF at the end of September. On her return she will be painted in the markings she wore with 402 Squadron RCAF during the D-Day invasion period. Watch out for a feature on AB910’s time with 402 Squadron in the forthcoming Club Autumn Journal.

On its return from its ‘Major’ servicing, Spitfire AB910 will, once again, be in the markings it wore whilst serving with 402 Sqn RCAF during the period of D-Day and for its final wartime operational sorties. (Artwork: Chris Sandham-Bailey inkworm.com)

@classicwarbirds via X

[tohwitchesduels]

Pick a name

Testing here how the polls work now that I'm going to use them, plus I need to make some decisions so buckle up everybody.

So first things first, since I know I can add a poll at any placement, here's my first question: since I intend to add information on what each competitor is capable of in their respective duels (what spells they use, what mindset they have, what tools are allowed) should I put such information first and then poll would be underneath them or should poll be traditionally on top and following information hid under the cut so to speak.

Now, I want people to take into consideration background info FIRST before voting, especially since I have a feeling some people coming here may just jump to conclusions. While I don't doubt people's intuition or knowledge on where characters stand, there's also the fact that some folk may not always know the rules and would pick their faves based on bias, not their strength (I do intend to add disclaimers for this at the top which I feel would be a good solution though background info could cool people down too), plus some background info can also help even the odds at times or make people reconsider things. However, I know that usually polls in Tumblr appear first pretty much always and there would be a lot of info regarding what characters are and aren't capable of so I wonder if you would prefer for such info to indeed be under the cut or screw that and be it front or center.

The second thing is I can't also add multiple polls, outside from picking a battle name, you can also pick the background for my bracket template in the comments, just refer to the pictures with numbers (like number 1 is the first photo):

Heck, I can make it its own post or perhaps I would change backgrounds depending on the qualification rounds. Let me know in the notes

Explanations for each and how potentially the data stats/propaganda would look like in battles (the above detour could also serve as such):

Witches Battles! - Technically speaking, lore-wise it was all the Collector's idea to watch the most powerful teen witches clash and they did refer wrongly to witches duels as witches battles.

Battle Witches! - just a reference to the original idea meta-wise, which is Battle Bladers (if you know, you're a legend). plus rolling the tongue kinda nice if you ask me.

Witches Duels! - classical, but it's not my top pick as witches duels are a custom, so naming this tournament just witches duels feels weird as there is structure to those battles as organized events instead of just random battles. But I will understand if you prefer this name and this reference to the show.

Granted when usually highlighting characters I will use big headers, but there's no need for short explanations of the names here

So anyway, here's the update, a bracket will appear soon (once I make it) and battles shall be announced along with it. Now that I will have a spring break I will try to get into that. It will be a new pinned post (but I will post a link to the first post which explains ALL the rules along with a disclaimer explaining the basic ones) and I will be also adding character profiles. Now, those will always appear underneath each duel, but as I explained in the first post, there will be Battle Royals featuring at times 8/9 people and I don't want for posts to get too big so occasionally I will be just sending links to read, but as they're battle royals, by that point I think people will have memorized the general info and I will add only more unique one separately. It's also worth noting that profile posts will have all the information, while specific duels will have a specific set of information at times (like how they do with palismen for example) so I will also add links to them despite already giving long explanations. Plus I'm also open to adding new information regarding the capabilities of characters featured in battles, so let me know in notes or asks if I miss anything that can determine how could battles potentially turn out.

OK, I think that's all for now y'all.

[dreamfyre03]

A Dragon's Love

Trigger Warnings: Some violence, injuries, blood

Dividers by: @zaldritzosrose

Header by: @zaldritzosrose

Chapter 8: Tourneys and Unheard Taunts

The day of the tourney came, and the grounds were richly decorated with Targaryen colours and the sigil of the three headed dragon. Daenys sat alone in her tent, truly not up to spending the day watching men attempt to prove their worth through acts of unnecessary violence. After the emotions that ran high from the day before, and Aemond’s worths ringing in her head, she wanted nothing more than to run off and spend the day on Meraxa. She knew it would upset Alicent, who wished for them all to be front and centre, but she couldn’t  face Aemond after what happened yesterday. 

Giving in to her thoughts, she quickly shed her dress her maid worked so hard to put her in, and changed into her riding leathers that were in her belongings brought to her tent. As she was about the slip out of her tent, she was intercepted by her brother Aegon, a smug look on his face. 

“Running off, sister?” He asked as he blocked her path. 

She sighed. “Let me be, brother. I don’t often run from my obligations, but indulge me today, please.” 

He clicked his tongue and put his hand around her shoulder, walking her back into her tent. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. It’s vital that you don’t miss this event.” “Since when are you so enlightened by tourneys? They last for hours, and the heat only makes it worse.” She sighed. 

“I’ve a feeling this tourney will be particularly interesting.” He said knowingly. She could see her brother knew something she didn’t, but her frustrations couldn’t bring her to pester him to find out what it was. She just needed to escape, to get a moment of her own. “Whatever scheme you’ve cooked up, I don’t care. I wish to be alone.” She attempted to push past him and walk out, only to be hauled over Aegon’s shoulder. “Put me down!” She gasped, hitting at his back with her fists. For a drunkard he was surprisingly strong. “If I do, will you change and come with me to our box?” He asked. She groaned and hit him again, and was satisfied by his small hiss of pain. “Come now, you two, mother will be livid if we’re late.” Helaena’s voice came from the entrance of her tent. “Sister, good you can help Daenys back into her dress, and we can be on our way.” Aegon said cheerily, his sister still hanging over his shoulder. “Very well then, come on we must be quick.” She said briskly, thoroughly used to her siblings’ antics by now. Aegon placed her back on her feet and she glared at him, and he gifted her his signature wicked smile, before walking out to wait for them outside. Helaena helped her out of her leathers and was soon lacing up the back of her red and white gown, tailored in the style as an homage to her dragon’s scales and colouring. The fabric was more sheer and lightweight to battle the heat of the day. “Are you alright?” Helaena asked gently. Daenys nodded. “I just- I’m in no mood to endure a tourney, is all.” Helaena nodded understandingly. “When the two hearts are melded as one, the dawn of a new age hails with the sun.” Her sister whispered. Daenys nodded, in no mood to decipher Helaena’s strange riddles, and met Aegon outside her tent, a bored expression on his face until they appeared. He looped each of his harms with Helaena and Daenys, and they walked together to the royal box. “Where is Aemond? He ought to be here, this tourney is in his honour after all.” Helaena wondered aloud.

“He’ll be here, I can guarantee it,” Aegon said in a knowing tone that was beginning to annoy Daenys.  They took their seats and as they passed Rhaenyra and Daemon, along with their younger ones, Lucerys and Joffery, and Daemon’s daughter Rhaena, she noticed the harsh stare from Rhaenyra, and the almost interested gaze of Daemon. She greeted her father, who surprisingly remembered her name, and she went to sit next to Aegon, Helaena on his other side. She tried to ignore the empty seat on the other side of her; Aemond’s seat. Alicent turned around to look at them, and whispered in a tone of irritation, “Where is your brother? It’s about to begin!” Helaena shrugged her shoulders and Daenys shook her head, while Aegon replied, “Worry not, mother, Aemond shall appear front and centre soon enough.” Alicent eyed him suspiciously before turning back around. 

Daenys couldn’t help but notice Jace wasn’t sitting with his siblings, and figured he would in fact be competing, and she found herself silently wishing him good luck, knowing it would be challenging going up against the older, more vicious and experienced men. 

“You look entirely too excited for this, brother. Perhaps you should have entered.” Daenys said. Aegon chuckled, “We both know I’m no great swordsman.”

“I know, but seeing you get knocked off a horse would be satisfaction enough.”She grumbled, her sour mood taking hold. He laughed loudly and drank from his wine, earning a glare from Alicent, and after she turned back around he said teasingly, “I always enjoy when your Targaryen fire comes to the forefront sister. Reminds me ever so often you aren’t all pretty eyes and kind words.” 

She rolled her eyes. As the tourney began, and the Hand stood to address the nobles and common folk present, she saw Aegon lean in to Helaena, and whisper something that made her eyes go wide, then look and Daenys. “What?” She asked, as Aegon joined Helaena in looking at her. “What is it?” She asked, annoyed. “Helaena what did he say?” Daenys demanded. 

Helaena looked back and forth between them, unsure if to speak. “This is fucking ridic-“ She stopped mid-sentence as she received a frown from Alicent. She lowered her voice, asking, “What is it?” As Helaena opened her mouth to speak, the first pairing was announced. “Our first joust, Ser Jason Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, going against the man of the hour, Prince Aemond Targaryen, the Young Dragon!” Daenys’ head whipped forward to see her brother, dressed head to toe in shining black armour, his helmet moulded into a dragon’s head. His long sliver white hair peaked out from under his helmet. He was mounted on a horse of darkest black. He looked regal, and fearsome. Daenys and Alicent turned to look at Aegon, who was grinning at Daenys’ reaction. “You knew about this?” Alicent hissed, looking as though she were resisting the urge to hit her son.

Aegon shrugged, but kept his grin on his face. When Alicent turned around, Daenys whispered, “Aemond despises tourneys. How did you get him to do this?”

“I didn’t get him to do anything sister. You’ll see. Just enjoy the show.” He said, watching as the jousting started. Daenys watched uneasily as her brother quickly unseated Jason Lannister, and the crowd went wild for the Targaryen Prince.

Alicent watched on nervously, picking at her cuticles as she worried for her beloved son’s safety. 

Aemond made his way up the ranks, nearly being unseated by a Lord of House Tarley, and Daenys felt as though her patience and peace of mind were hanging by a thread. He was becoming a crowed favourite, and when Jace entered his first match, against a Lord from House Bracken, Daenys realised what was going on. She prayed her brother and nephew would not have to duel each other. 

But Jace proved himself skilled, and by the time the final joust came, her prayer had gone unanswered.

“Final match! Prince Aemond Targaryen, son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, the Young Dragon, against Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, son of Ser Laenor Velaryon and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne!” “If he’s the son of Ser Laenor, I’m a Silk Street whore.” Aegon snickered, and Daenys pinched him. 

She saw her brother and Jace exchanging words no one could hear, but whatever they were seemed to aggravate them both. Aemond approached the royal box, extending his lance forward and said loudly for the onlookers to hear, “Would my beautiful sister, Princess Daenys, honour me with her favour?” 

She kept a smile on her face for appearances’ sake and took her favour that she made with Helaena yesterday, red roses and black ribbons, with white jasmine flowers, colours of both her house and her dragon. She leaned forward and slid the favour onto his lance, and said, “I bid you good luck, brother, I trust you shall return my favour safely.” He nodded, and his wicked smile sending heatwaves through her body. He trotted back off his position, and Jace glared at him, before going to ask his mother’s favour.

The joust began, and Aemond landed a harsh blow, which thankfully did not inflict too much damage due to Jace’s shield. Daenys gripped the arm of her chair in anxiety. They charged again, Jace nearly knocking Aemond off his horse, causing the crowed to erupt into murmurs. “Gods above,” Daenys muttered. Aemond quickly secured his position on the horse, and when they went again, he was fully knocked off his horse. Daenys cried out, along with Alicent, and she felt sick to her stomach. She knew he wouldn’t stay down, and was right when she saw him stumble back to his feet and draw his sword. Jace dismounted his horse and drew his, and the two began to fight with their blades. She knew there wasn’t anyone that could best Aemond in one on one combat, his skill with the sword had become a legend in itself. She gasped when his sword nicked Jace’s arm, and she saw red running down it, but he persisted. Aemond sustained another harsh blow, as did Jace, but neither of them would stand down. The fight was clearly becoming personal, as they shouted taunts at each other. 

Soon enough, however, as both men stumbled struggled to stay on their feet, Aemond finally had Jace on the ground, and her nephew finally yielded. Aemond had won. She breathed a sigh of relief when it was over, and Jace was helped up by his squires, and Aemond clearly snuck in one last taunt, which clearly provoked him, and Aemond, already with his back turned, got knocked on the side of the head with the hilt of the sword, sending him to the ground. Daenys felt her heart drop, and without realising, she scrambled to her feet, without thinking, as Alicent too was running to her son, along with the Hand. Daenys ran, Aegon on her heels, and when they got close, Aegon grabbed her hand and said, “Wait, sister, let them take him back to his tent. Don’t overcrowd them.” She tried to pull out of his grasp, watching as they placed Aemond’s limp body on a stretcher, as the maesters carried him off the grounds. “Let me go to him, let me go,” She fought against Aegon, who kept a surprisingly strong hold on her. “He’s already injured. He needs to be attended too. You don’t need to see him like that.” She didn’t realise tears were running down her face until one of Aegon’s hands reached around her and wiped them gently from her face. When she finally stopped fighting him, he released her, and Helaena had made her way to them. Her face was furrowed with worry, and she took Daenys’s hand reassuringly. She glanced over her shoulder to see Jace being attended to by maesters, his mother had already made her way down to see if he was seriously hurt. She calmed her breathing, and walked with her siblings to her brother’s tent, unsure if to let her worry or her anger take precedent. 

Aemond slowly came back to consciousness, to a throbbing pain in his head, and a stabbing pain on his side. He slowly opened his eye to see his siblings sitting in his tent, Aegon drinking wine, Helaena gazing at seemingly nothing, and Daenys, who sat by his side, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. He groaned as he sat up, and they all snapped to attention at the noise, Daenys breathing a sigh of relief, and Helaena smiling as though she knew he would awake. 

“How do you feel?” Daenys asked quietly as she took his hand. “My head hurts, as does to cut on my side, but fine otherwise.” He replied. 

“Good.” She smacked him upside the head. He groaned again, rubbing the spot. “What on earth would possess you to enter the tourney and act so recklessly? Your mother was utterly distraught, she’s currently arguing with Rhaenyra, demanding that some retribution be given to Jace for going back to attack you after he yielded.” She shouted angrily. “Concerned for your suitor, sister?” He grumbled. 

She growled in frustration. “You are truly something. I stand here, worried for your health, praying that the knock to the head didn’t permanently damage you, and you speak of Jace? Clearly all it has done is make you an utter fool.” 

She stormed out, Helaena following her, not before giving her brother a kind, pitying look. “She’s gone back and forth between being worried out of her mind for you, and wanting to hit you.” Aegon said, putting down the glass and walking over to where Aemond laid. “So I gather.” Aemond replied. “He may have attacked you, but he yielded. You were crowned winner of the tourney, brother.” Aegon said, as if that was supposed to make him feel better.

Aegon, in a surprising moment of perceptiveness, seemed to read his thoughts and said, “She will come around. She won’t stay angry at your forever.” 

Aemond nodded. He knew his brother was right, but he actually began to feel guilty for worrying her, upsetting her like that. But he didn’t regret putting their nephew in his place. Not one bit.

[tooneys-russo]

BOOTS AND BROKEN HEARTS

Previous Parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Summary: Alessia and her UNC coach Willa have a bit too much chemistry. Only downside is that Willa has a girlfriend.

CHAPTER 4

The first game of the season was against Providence College, it was a very tight game and Willa approached Anson telling him they needed to put on Alessia. At half time Willa thought maybe he would make the change, she was visibly frustrated when the change wasn’t made and she stood by the bench with her jaw clenched. Alessia couldn’t help but stare at her coach, she looked really good pissed off. At the 55th minute Willa walked over to Anson and they appeared to have a somewhat heated discussion, Willa smirked and turned to Alessia. “Go warm up.” Willa won the battle to get Alessia on, it was ridiculous that she wasn’t on the pitch to begin with but now they would get some of that hard football that they needed. As soon as Alessia was on the pitch the whole game changed. UNC were pressing forward and keeping the pressure on Providence, Alessia watched a cross come in and got a header in, but it was just saved by the keeper. She groaned in frustration, “Less keep it going you got it!” She heard Willa from the sidelines. Willa was sat with a few of the other players talking them through the game when Alessia had a shot that was deflected by the keeper and scored off the rebound by Julia Ashley. The team celebrated but Alessia was slightly worried that she would remain on the bench after helping her other striker get the winning goal. After the game Willa found the blonde girl after their meeting and she had a change to shower and get changed. “Well done.” Willa leant up against the wall of the hallway, “I didn’t score Willa.” Willa shrugged. “You got the assist.” Alessia sighed, “Yeah off my shot.” Willa put her arm around the girl’s shoulder and lead her down the hallway. “Oh young one, don't worry, a few sessions with me and you will understand why you had a phenomenal game.” Alessia shoved Willa in the side with a slight smile. “You are annoying, teach me to score and I might think you are less annoying.” Willa laughed. “I will work you hard just so you know. Goodnight Alessia, celebrate and I will see you tomorrow at 10.” Willa stopped by her office and Alessia waved to her coach as she headed back to her dorm. There was an undeniable tension between the two of them, there was clear flirtation in each conversation that neither of them were going to cut back on. 

The following morning Willa got some Gatorade and water ready for the session, she set up some mannequins and cones then waited for the gorgeous blonde to come by. Alessia checked how she looked in the mirror before she walked onto the field, she wore her UNC shorts and training shirt with her Nike boots. As she walked onto the grass she saw her coach standing there in a UCLA training shirt and shorts. “What the hell Willa! You do know you are at UNC right? Can’t just walk around in UCLA crap.” Alessia laughed and Willa looked down at her shirt. “This looks way better on me than that sky blue, royal blue all the way princess.” She kicked a ball to Alessia, “Start warming up and no complaints.” After a minute Willa joined Alessia in warm up so she wasn’t lonely, they chatted about the game briefly during the warm up. They shifted into some ball work, going around cones and quick changes of movement. Willa was impressed by Alessia’s ball skills and the way the ball would do whatever she wanted like it was on a string. “Next drill, back to the mannequins then turn and shoot.” Alessia did the drill with ease, she needed some real pressure. Willa moved the mannequins while Alessia had a much needed drink, she then put on her boots and grabbed a few balls. Willa waited on the edge of the 18 yard box for Alessia who soon followed. “Okay, it’s you up against me now.” She tossed a ball to Alessia who smirked. “Do I get punished when I kick your ass?” Willa laughed. “Yeah you will be benched again.” Alessia gasped and shoved Willa. “Not funny.” She put the ball at her feet, Alessia began coming towards Willa who followed each movement Alessia made but didn’t make a tackle. It was hard for Alessia to be able to make any ground, she was used to players diving in to tackle and going around them. They seemed to be doing this dance for a few minutes before Willa closed the gap and tapped the ball slightly away from Alessia then took it a few metres down the field. “You got lazy there Russo, take me on.” She passed the ball back. Alessia found it hard to get used to the style of defence that Willa was doing and soon just used her body to block the ball. Alessia pressed her back into the front of Willa who put one hand on Alessia’s waist to hold her slightly. Alessia tried to turn but Willa was right there like velcro on her. Their bodies were pressed right against each other, able to feel every movement, both of them very aware of each twitch of their muscles but trying to focus. Alessia went to turn and Willa got the ball and Alessia fell over her leg. “Ugh what the hell?! How do you do that?” She laid back on the grass frustrated, Willa laughed at her reaction. “Well princess I can tell exactly what you are going to do. Use my body as a way to predict.” She held her hand out and pulled the striker up. “Turn around.” Alessia followed her instruction and suddenly felt Willa’s body against her and hands on her hips. “Use these to turn me. Push back to get me off balance, that will give you a few seconds of peace from me.” Alessia struggled to focus feeling Willa’s hands on her hips then it clicked what she was asking, to push her ass against her to turn her, it would be rude not to listen to her coach. Willa kept her hands on Alessia’s hips, Willa then felt the striker push back into her, sending her stepping back, this gave Alessia the opportunity to turn and have a shot on goal. Alessia turned with a smirk, “Well I guess you do know a thing or two about this football thing.” Willa stepped closer to the blonde, “There is a lot I know about this football thing.” They looked into each other’s eyes for a minute before Willa stepped back and cleared her throat. “Um good work Russo, film session later today.” She turned and began packing up, Alessia collected herself. “Yeah thanks, see you then.” She quickly headed back to her dorm and laid down on her bed.

Lotte watched as Alessia flopped onto her bed and covered her face with her hands. “How was your little private session with Willa?” Lotte smirked and Alessia groaned. “Ahhh yes that sounds phenomenal. Did you say actual words with her or just speak in grunts while you drooled all over her?” Lotte laughed and Alessia just gave her the finger. After a few minutes Alessia sat up and gave a recount of the training, their bodies together and the flirting. “Holy shit Alessia! She is so into you!” Alessia ran her fingers through her hair. “She has a girlfriend and she is amazing but again she has a girlfriend.” Alessia looked over at Lotte. “Look something is clearly going on between you two, you could keep going the way you are and just bide your time or you can shut it down. Only you can decide Less.” Lotte looked at her friend sympathetically. After their classes Lotte and Alessia walked into the theatre Willa was sat up the back in her usual spot with her notebook, Lotte gently pushed Alessia, “Go sit with your girl.” She whispered and went to sit with Lois. Alessia fixed her hair and sat next to Willa, “Hey Coach.” Willa smiled up at the blonde girl. “Well hello there Russo.” Willa shifted her body to face more towards Alessia. Anson spoke to the girls about the upcoming game, the previous UNC game started playing on the projector. Willa whispered tactics to Alessia, as the game continued Willa put her leg against Alessia’s. Neither of them made an attempt to move, Alessia put her hand on Willa’s thigh, “Just wondering, if I was going to cut back in that situation would I do what we did this morning and fake going down the line?” Willa looked down at Alessia’s hand and swallowed hard, she could only answer with a nod. Alessia smirked and moved her hand as she sat back, she knew what she was doing was very wrong but technically nothing had happened between them…yet.

A few weeks had passed, Willa was able to see Jennifer a couple of times but to be honest the reception to her being there was cold. Jennifer was so focused on hanging out with some of her teammates, some more than others. Willa threw herself into her work with the team which included multiple sessions with different players, none were as tension filled as the ones with Alessia. She and the striker were always pressed against each other during the trainings and finishing the sessions catching their breath but not from the running. The team were on the plane headed to Notre Dame for what was promising to be a tough game, Alessia and Willa exchanged looks throughout the flight. Once they were at the field, Willa brushed past Alessia, probably a few too many times as they got ready for the game. Alessia didn’t complain once and even a few times she made sure to be in her coach’s way. When the game started it didn’t take long for Alessia to make an impact, not even a minute in and Alessia lost her player and was able to header the ball into the back of the net. Alessia ran over to the sidelines and hugged her teammates, everyone began walking back to reset and Alessia winked at Willa making the coach’s heart race. Notre Dame equalised after 10 minutes and the girls dropped their heads slightly. At half time Willa stood in the middle of the players. “Keep pushing, that goal came from a lack of concentration. Remember those sessions in the Carolina heat, you pushed hard and fought for each other. Keep going and we have this!” The girls headed back out onto the pitch pumped up for the next half. Alessia came off in the 75th minute looking frustrated, Willa came over and patted Alessia on the back. “You are only getting a couple minutes off Alessia then I want you pressing those defenders. Pretend it's me in our sessions, use your body and don’t be afraid to shoot.” Alessia locked eyes with Willa and nodded. True to her word it was only a few minutes and Alessia was back on, again within two minutes Alessia made an impact, she had a shot on the keeper which rebounded to Freshman Taylor Otto who smashed it into the back of the net. The team was elated when the final whistle blew and began celebrating in the middle of the field. Once they were back in the change rooms the music was blaring, the players were dancing with a disco light strobing in the room. Alessia snuck away from the main group to find the coach standing to one side laughing. “Did you see my goal?” Alessia looked at her coach. “Of course I did. You really put a show on for me didn’t you?” Willa put her cap on and leaned in to whisper in Alessia’s ear, “In a few days you and I have a game to watch. Make sure you bring your tissues.” She left Alessia standing there as she watched Willa leave the room. 

The flirting between the two intensified on their way to Syracuse, Alessia made sure to bend over while Willa was close by and brushing against her coach whenever she could. At the game Alessia didn’t score but she did find herself sitting next to Willa on the plane ride home. They watched a movie together, Willa picked ‘Goal!’ Alessia only complained about having to watch a movie about Newcastle United for 10 minutes before Willa quieted her down with some snacks. Alessia rested her head on Willa’s shoulder and soon fell asleep. When they landed Willa gently touched Alessia’s hand that was resting on her thigh. “Hey princess, wake up.” Alessia groaned and sat up, she rubbed her eyes and then looked at Willa. “Well I seem to have wasted my flight haven’t I?” She got up and grabbed her things as they exited the plane. Conveniently for Willa, Jennifer didn’t seem to notice Willa’s new found focus because she too was focused on another footballer, Alanna Kennedy. There were rumours circulating that there was something more than friendly between the two, they had been snapped dancing together in clubs and getting close at training, this was squashed each time by Jennfier explaining that she was just friends and she had no one at her new team. Willa just accepted Jennifer’s explanation and moved on. 

The morning of the Newcastle United v Manchester United game Willa sent Alessia a picture of her in a Newcastle United shirt and shorts. Alessia checked if anyone was around and went to her wardrobe and grabbed her Manchester United jersey and went into the bathroom. She had on very short soccer shorts with the jersey and you could only just see the bottoms of them. Alessia held up the hem of the jersey slightly so you would be able to see the band of her shorts. She took the picture and sent it through to her coach with the message, ‘Red is such a nicer colour’ Willa stared at the picture before getting a call from Anson, she had to do a few things for Anson ready for their next game. There was a few hours before the game for her to kill with the work Anson needed done, she could do it before seeing Alessia, but she forgot to respond to the blonde striker. Alessia had spent the last three hours since she sent the message in a silent panic, maybe she took it too far and Willa was freaked out. She was pacing in her room and Lotte was starting to get worried, “Okay what is going on? You are going to wear a hole in the carpet.” Alessia groaned, “I messed up.” She sat on the end of Lotte’s bed. “I sent something to Willa.” She handed her phone to Lotte, the defender’s eyes widened as she saw the image. “Oh wow. At least it is a great pic.” Lotte handed the phone back. “I am sure you aren’t the first player to have a crush on a coach, you will be fine with the team, you won’t be kicked off or anything.” Alessia looked at Lotte. “I didn’t even think of getting kicked off the team! I was just thinking of having to face Willa for the Newcastle and Manchester game!” Alessia laid back on Lotte’s bed and covered her eyes. “Just leave me here to die.” She groaned and Lotte laughed. “At least you had clothes on.” It was little consolation for Alessia knowing the coach had definitely seen the picture. Willa checked her phone 30 minutes prior to the game starting, she noticed she hadn’t replied. ‘Sorry for the late reply princess had to quickly do some work. But yes you do look great in red, see you soon.’ Alessia felt a wave of relief sweep over her as she re-read the text and rushed over to the theatre where Willa was waiting. 

There was a moment of silence when Alessia walked into the theatre and saw Willa standing there in her Newcastle shirt. “God, you need to get rid of that.” Alessia grabbed the hem of the shirt. “You need to get rid of that.” Willa replied and grabbed the hem of Alessia’s jersey. They stood there looking at each other until the whistle from the game interrupted them. “Wanna sit?” Willa grabbed Alessia’s hand and took her to the middle rows where some food was set up. They cheered and bickered during the game, at half time Willa groaned. “If they bloody had defenders willing to track back we would be fine.” She put on her cap backwards and leant back with her hands on her head. “Just convert Willa, trust me it would be less suffering to go for Manchester.” Alessia smirked. “Read my lips Alessia, there is no way in the world that I would wear that god awful Manchster United kit, I'd sooner wear Middlesbrough.” Willa leant in with a smirk and Alessia bit her lip. Willa couldn’t resist anymore, this girl was constantly on her mind, she leant in and connected their lips. Alessia immediately put her hand on the back of Willa’s neck to deepen the kiss, Willa grabbed Alessia and guided her onto her lap, sliding her hands up the striker’s thighs. Their lips moved together in perfect sync, small moans escaping both of their mouths, three months of teasing had finally led to this moment. Willa made her way down Alessia’s neck planting kisses and digging her fingers into Alessia’s thighs. The moment was cut short by Willa’s phone ringing, Alessia picked it up while Willa was still making her way along Alessia’s neck. Willa felt the blonde on her lap stiffen and quickly get off her, “Less?” All Alessia could do was hand Willa back her phone and quickly leave the theatre. Willa looked at her phone and sighed, it was Jennifer. “Hey baby.” Willa said as she sat back, the game still on the big screen. “I saw your schedule and thought that you could come out to see me?” Jennifer sounded very perky and excited to hear her voice. “Yeah baby the game tomorrow?” Willa knew that she was in deep with Alessia and now had to try and pretend everything was okay with Jennifer. 

She got an afternoon flight and let Anson know where she was heading to, she just needed some time to think. Jennifer was waiting by the gate when Willa got off the plane, they shared a kiss and a hug as soon as they saw each other. Willa compared the kiss with Alessia's. It was nice but it wasn’t like what she had with Alessia, there was so much passion and intensity. The night was spent cuddled up on the couch watching a Hallmark movie and eating some pasta, in comparison Alessia gave Lotte a full rundown of what had happened. Lotte couldn’t believe that they finally gave into their feelings for each other. The two Brits sat down for a movie night, Alessia wanting to keep her mind off Willa, she scrolled on Instagram while the movie played and saw a picture of Jennifer and Willa kissing at the airport, Willa still wearing her Newcastle United jersey that Alessia had been holding onto while they made out. Alessia bit her lip to stop herself from crying, Lotte noticed and asked what was going on, Alessia simply handed her phone over and tucked her knees to her chest. Lotte clenched her jaw, “Bitch.” Alessia’s head snapped towards Lotte who was always the calmest and most sensible person. “How can she just go and be with her girlfriend after making out with you! Is she an idiot?” Alessia laughed at Lotte, it was nice to have someone in her corner. “Okay new plan, we forget her no more flirting with her, cut her off.” Alessia nodded, might be easier said than done. 

The game was fantastic to watch, Jennifer played well too. She was prominent and assisted in two goals. Willa watched closely as the game progressed, she made some notes on things she wanted to try with the UNC team when she got back. Willa looked at her phone and typed out a message to Alessia wanting to press send, ‘Hey Less, I am so sorry for what I did. You probably know that I am with Jennifer right now at her game but when I come back I want to talk about what happened. I do care about you, I am so sorry again.’ She backspaced everything and just simply sent, ‘Hey Alessia it’s Willa. Can we talk when I get back from Orlando?’. There was no reply for the whole game which Willa did kind of expect. After the game Jennifer met Willa outside the back of the stadium, Jennifer had a crop top and jeans on with a pair of heels. “Baby we are going out, you have to come!” She wrapped her arms around the coach. “Um yeah okay lets do it.” Willa tried not to go out too much, she got bored quickly and often Jennifer would forget that she was even there and leave her while she partied with her friends. It seemed that Willa could predict the future as she sat at the booth for hours while Jennifer danced with her teammates, she seemed to be quite close with them especially Alanna Kennedy who currently had her hands on Jennifer’s hips while Jennifer pressed her ass into Alanna. Willa rolled her eyes and finished her drink, it was clear that perhaps Jennifer and Alanna were a bit closer than just friends. Willa had enough of watching her girlfriend and she left the club, it wasn’t her scene. She looked at Alessia’s instagram profile and flicked through a few of the pictures, she had the kindest eyes and was gorgeous. Willa knew that she needed to end things with Jennifer, Jennifer was into Alanna and she was into Alessia. 

Jennifer didn’t come home until 4am while Willa was asleep. She was quickly awoken by Jennifer stumbling into the room drunk, “Where the fuck did you go?” Jennifer put her bag on the bed. “I came home. You seemed to have your hands full.” Willa said dryly not looking at her girlfriend. “Are you serious? I dance with my teammates and you get pissed?” Jennifer came around to the side of the bed that Willa was sleeping in. “I want you out. Now.” Jennifer pulled back the covers on the bed and Willa sat up. “Fine.” She grabbed her already packed bag, knowing what was coming as soon as she got home. Jennifer was always like this, she would get drunk, get flirty then kick Willa out when Willa was upset with her behaviour. “You didn’t speak to me the whole night Jen. But you were grinding up against Alanna right in front of me. If you don’t want me anymore just let me know.” Willa opened the door. “Fuck you! We both know you are just jealous that you never made it like me.” Jen crossed her arms. “You’re right.” Willa closed the door and called an Uber, she headed to the airport. 

Willa got a flight at 6:00am back to North Carolina she landed at 7:50am and was back at her apartment by 8:40am, the first thing she did when she got home was get changed into UNC uniform and headed to the gym. She worked out until 11:00am when her body was beginning to give up on her. Willa had done an hour on the treadmill, thirty minutes on the rowing machine and the rest of the time she did an arm weights workout. As Willa was finishing up Alessia walked into the gym, wanting to get in a quick session. She noticed the blonde and attempted to go over but Alessia turned her back when Willa got close. “Don’t bother.” Was all Alessia said, Willa sighed and left the gym. She had a shower to clean up before the team meeting, at least she would see Alessia in the meeting, maybe they could talk quickly. As they entered the theatre Willa sat in her spot up the back and soon after Alessia walked in, she noticed the girl up the back but chose to sit in the third row with Lotte and Lois. Willa needed to have a talk with Alessia about what they had done. The team meeting was very beneficial as Anson added in some of Willa’s tactics, as they were leaving Willa grabbed Alessia’s wrist and stopped her from leaving. “Hey, just wondering if we could have a chat?” Alessia looked at Willa’s hand. “Sorry, I have to get going, it’s late and I have class.” Alesia took her arm back and walked past the coach without looking at her. Alessia remained distant up until the game against Miami, they were a good team but were somewhat dirty as well. Willa had a chat with a few of the players outlining their tactics and ways to use it against them, she nervously walked up to Alessia. “Hey, um just like we worked on in training. They are a physical team and will want to come after you especially, if it gets too much let us know and we can bring you off. We need to keep you protected.” Alessia looked at Willa coldly. “I will be fine.” She pushed past Willa who knew that she deserved the girl’s hatred.

CHAPTER 5

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

glimmadora patched-up WIP, since i spent all night in a haze gluing an ending on it. AO3 link

rated G. fluff. more fluff. stressed out glimmer. paperwork. fluff

Opening the door to Glimmer's room, the first thing Adora does- like usual these days- is worry.

“…Glimmer?”

No answer. Easing inside, Adora shuts the door and scans the field of battle.

It doesn’t look good. Papers cover the desk, dripping down to the floor and spreading out across just about every flat surface. All personal items and furniture have already been overwhelmed by sheer numbers, soft hues blanketed with the endless ranks of blank white sheets and harsh black ink.

Frowning, Adora feels a deep crease cut between her eyes. The single document in her hands suddenly seems both very inadequate and also like far, far too much.

At least she doesn’t see any person-sized lump lying on the floor this time.

Lifting her voice a little, she calls again. “Uh- Glimmer?”

“Rrgh.” Comes a groan from above. Paper whispers and cascades over the edge of the hanging bed in a fluttering waterfall.

“I’m not here. Come back when the Horde attacks or someone accidentally sets fire to the royal solicitor’s office...”

Adora watches the last drifting papers settle on Glimmer’s floor. “I finished the draft report on best methods for quickly disseminating counter-Horde tactics to the general Rebellion public.” She lifts her document helpfully. “Do you still want to go over it first before I file it with the General?”

Another groan. Then a hand pops into sight, waving limply from the hanging bed. “Up.” Glimmer calls.

The floating steps are mostly in place today, only a few repurposed as midair shelf space, and Adora knows them well enough to read over her report one last time as she climbs.

At the top she finds a young woman in fine clothes and a state of clear disheveled disheartenment. Glimmer is staring blankly up at the ceiling. Her eyes, pupil-less pink and iridescent where they catch the light, look somehow dull and empty. There are papers blanketing her bed, more papers lying on her chest. An smudge of ink stains one cheek like a bruise. Little bandages in colors white, pink, and pale blue cover half Glimmer’s hands, hinting at papercuts and threatening to turn her fingerless gloves into full ones.

She looks exhausted. “Report.” She also sounds exhausted.

Standing on the last step next to the bed, Adora hesitates. “I could revise it again. Come back in another hour or so.”

“Report.” Glimmer repeats lifting a hand an waving it vaguely in Adora’s direction. “It’s important. And knowing you, you’ve probably already rewritten three times.”

“Five times.” Adora shuffles the document, double checks the spelling in the sentence-long header.

A head of fluffy pink hair, extra fluffy and with fewer sparkles in it than normal, lifts from the bed. “Five times? But I only asked you to start writing it this morning! That was only three hours-”

“Ten.” The stain glass windows of Glimmer’s room glow softly with evening light.  

“-ten hours- What?” Paper crackles as Glimmer jerks upright, twisting wildly to get a view of her main window.

Outside the second evening moon is starting to rise over the mountains. Glimmer looks down at the shadows stretching across her floor, painting the scattered papers warm fuchsia pink and cool periwinkle blue. It’s beautiful, but Glimmer’s expression is horrified.

Adora feels the crease between eyes deepen. “You didn’t come to lunch. The kitchen staff said they’d bring you something here.”

Shoulders drooping Glimmer sighs. “Someone might have knocked at some point. I think I told them the same thing I told you, only maybe with more yelling. Possible also some cursing…” Another sigh, this one deeper and frustrated as Glimmer turns forward again, burying a hand in her short hair. “Great. Now I need to fit apologizing into my non-existent schedule.” Her free hand curls into a fist, crumpling an unlucky page of what looks like finances.

Seeing Glimmer like this sinks a lead weight in Adora’s chest. “Oh.” She sits on the edge of the hanging bed and clasps her hands on top of the report in her lap, hiding as much of it as she can. “Can I help?”

“It’s fine.” Yank, a few sparks wink out as Glimmer tugs at her hair. “Or no it’s not fine but it’s not like I was actually doing anything anyway- Not doing anything all afternoon apparently- so it barely even counts as a missed meal!” Glimmer glances up through spiky bangs, anxious. “Don’t tell my mom? Or Bow?”

“I won’t.” Adora says firmly. “But Queen Angella might already know.”

A snort. “If she did she’d be banging down my door and passing a law that not having lunch is punishable with a month of being grounded.”

Blonde ponytail slips over on shoulder as Adora tilts her head. “I thought you’d have immunity now.”

“Hm?” Glimmer grunts. “Immunity to what, my own mom?”

“No the, uh.” The strange word stumbles on Adora’s tongue. “The grounding. And having to take orders from the Queen of Bightmoon. If you don’t have independence already then we need to bring that up at the next meeting.”

A look of confusion, then understanding. “Oh, you mean because of the whole ‘got voted new leader of the new Princess Alliance’!” Glimmer laughs. “That thing!” Her laugh is sharp and not at all happy. “The thing slowly driving me insane and that I’m almost Definity messing up right now as we speak!”

Adora nods, stops. Frowns instead. “You’re not ruining the Alliance.”

Up comes the fist with its crumpled paper victim. “Well I’m sure not doing a good job running it.” Glimmer waves the paper as an example. “Ten hours reading, sorting, trying to figure out what ideas are most important and who needs to talk to who about getting what done when, and do you know what I have to show for it?” Releasing her hair Glimmer uses both hands to ball the paper up, crushing it furiously. “A mess!”

Hauling back she throws. Adora’s head swivels, following the paper ball as it smacks into one of the many posters on Glimmer’s walls, striking a crudely drawn Hordak square in the mouth.

“Good shot.” Adora turns back as Glimmer buries her face in her hands. “Those decisions have too much to do with the Kingdoms and non-military governing for me to help with, but I could organize a little if you want.”

“Organize?” Glimmer’s voice comes out muffled. “Adora, my room looks like someone set off a bomb in a printing press.”

Unclasping her hands Adora scoops up the nearest mess of papers. “You’ve been laying things out so you can reference them easily. All that needs is a system. Maybe some color coding. Bow brought me ‘the whole rainbow in sticky notes’ after he saw my Princess Prom workshop, so we have the materials already. We can get started right after dinner.”

Slowly Glimmer lifts her head. “You’re serious.” Her eyes are wide, disbelieving.

Adora nods. “It’ll help. Probably.” Scraps together a tentative smile. “At least it’ll look good.”

“Like organization, like organizer.” Glimmer shakes her head at Adora’s confused look. “Nevermind. Don’t you have other reports to make? Other peoples’ reports to look over?” She points accusingly at the report lying abandoned in Adora’s lap. “You spent a whole day doing just one of those, you don’t have time to clean my room on top of all that! You need stuff like food- and sleep!”

“So do you.”

Glimmer pouts. “I get half my energy from a magical shiny rock. One missed dinner won’t kill me.”

Adora mimics her pout. “But it’ll make me sad.”

“Oh hush.” The corner of Glimmer’s mouth quirks up even as she said it, Adora notices. “Still. Five hours on ONE report. Not good! You need rest.”

“Actually I spent one hour working on a different report, took a lunch break, and did some five minute sword exercises whenever my hand started cramping up.” Setting down the now neatly stacked papers, Adora meet and holds Glimmer’s gaze. “This would help me too.” She promises. “With the reports. I won’t have to rewrite them so many times if I can get a better idea of how things work in and between the Kingdoms. Which is basically your job, now.”

Glimmer’s hand falls. “Right… You do know my mom was running the Alliance for years and I only got started yesterday. If you have questions, ask her not me.”

“She isn’t the one who’ll be setting new policies going forward. Also.” Adora gives Glimmer a look as the princess opens her mouth to interrupt. “This isn’t the same Alliance your parents founded. It can’t be. The war has changed, your way of fighting it has to change too.”

“Our.” Glimmer corrects instantly, frowning. “Our way of fighting.”

The papers scattered around Adora are suddenly very interesting. She picks another sheaf up and looks it over, a vaguely agreeable sound rising in her chest. “Mm.”

There’s quiet in the room. No fountains or water features here, just the faint whisper as Adora turns over a page, still reading.

Then the bed shifts and Glimmer carefully moves the newly stacked papers to the side, making room for herself. Legs dangling next to Adora’s she hunches forward, arms braced on her knees, hands tangled tight together, still frowning.

“I hate that stupid vote.”

Papers settle on Adora’s lap, instantly forgotten. “You don’t want to lead the rebellion?”

“I guess I do?” Glimmer worries at her gloves, tugging the fingers, picking at the band aids. “I just never pictured it happening this way. Or being like this.”

Adora leans forward too, hands clasped between her knees, mirroring her.

“I don’t know what ‘this’ is…” She confesses as she watches Glimmer slowly peel off a strip of adhesive, ducking her head a little to see every line pinching between Glimmer’s eyes. “…unless you mean the paperwork.”

A hollow laugh as Glimmer flicks the band aid away to fall into the mess below. “No, I about knew that part. It’s more the sitting around for hours thing. Doing nothing. Alone.”

The light in the room is fading but instead of standing out brighter the sparks in Glimmer’s hair seem like they’re dimming along with it, like the darkening room is squeezing the life out of them.

The thought squeezes something in Adora’s chest.

“You don’t have to.”

Adora’s fingers creak as she clenches them together, staring down at them, wishing for her sword and a problem simple enough to cut through.  

“You have Bow and your mom.” She says instead, as if Glimmer could’ve somehow forgotten that. “Perfuma, Mermista, Entrapta, Frosta- and Swift Wind would stay for an afternoon, if you asked. Castaspella always wants you to visit. Spinnetta and Nettossa have the most field experience of anyone…”  

Out of the corner of her eye she can see Glimmer looking at her. Listening. Waiting.

Adora takes a deep breath. “…and me.” She tacks on softly, “I’m here, too.” Clearing her throat she decides she will never not have her attention on her own white-knuckled hands. “I can organize papers. If you want.”

The room is full of shadows. The last light of the bight moons has drained away-

-but a there’s a faint glow besides her, Adora realizes suddenly, painting her own shadow faintly on the far wall, lighting the room with soft and shimmering sparks.

A bandaged hand reaches over and brushes her tight knuckles.                                                                                                                     

“I’d like that.” Glimmer says, already smiling as Adora glances over at her. “You sure though? I mean. It’s paperwork.”

“I’m sure.”

Adora confirms, the lead weight in her chest melting away along with the lines of tension in Glimmer’s shoulders.

“Anyway.” The words slips out too fast for her to review them. “The only thing I like being around more than paperwork, is you.”

“Oh?”

Heat burns Adora’s face. She tries to at least keep her expression straight as Glimmer’s smile breaks into an enormous grin.

That gets a lot harder as Glimmer pries one of her hands free and takes it gently in hers.

“Well in THAT case!” With a hop and a twirl Glimmer lands on the first of the floating steps, still holding Adora’s hand, still smiling in way that makes Adora’s neck prickle and her stomach swoop with vertigo even though she is very clearly not falling at the moment.

Then Glimmer bows, sweeping her cape aside with her free hand, silly and graceful- and now Adora is grinning too.

“Join me for dinner, your highness?” Glimmer asks with a playful wink.

Still grinning, Adora snorts. “Yes. And I’m not royalty. Maybe a bureaucratic officer.”

“Madam secretary, then.”         

Adora looks pointedly around at the paper-strewn room. “Does the Rebellion even have those?”

“We do.” Glimmer un-bows herself and tugs, and Adora lets herself be pulled to her feet. “They’re just busy with non-top-secret stuff. But I’d make them a thing, if we didn’t have them already. For you.”

Her eyes really do shine don’t they? It isn’t just reflected light- there’s dream-like moon glow to them that Adora always somehow forgets about until she’s face to face with Glimmer again and staring down at her like this.

…maybe she should stop staring.     

“Maybe you still could.” Adora muses aloud, still staring. “Make them a thing. The bur- the secretaries. Maybe I could be your top-secret secretary.”

A squeeze on her hand, a laugh from Glimmer, bursting and bright as she teleports them.  

“Alas!” Glimmer sighs dramatically even as the sparks clear, “that’d probably be some really big work code violation. You’ll have to do volunteer work, I’m afraid, at least until after the war and someone else gets voted in as head of the Rebellion.”

Adora settles back on her heels on the solid floor and blinks. “After the war? Someone else?”

“Sure.”

Glimmer says it as easily as breathing as she steers them both towards the door.

“We’ll need to renamed it. Something less rebellion-y, more unity-y, but- You can help Mermista or whoever with paperwork during the day, since you like it so much. And I’ll take you out to dinner each night!”

Dinner each night? Ah, then that would be- “Sounds like on of those ‘date’ things Bow was telling me about.”

Glimmer freezes, free hand on the door handle.

“Um. A- a date, yeah.” Tentatively she glances back up at Adora. “If you, if you want?”

Adora smiles and nods. “After the war, we’ll have dinner together every night.” After. Huh. What a weird thought. “It’s a date.”

What a strange light that suddenly flares in Glimmer’s face.

“Right. One sec.”

A flash and Glimmer is back on her bed, frantically grabbing up handfuls of papers and stuffing them into her arms.

Still smiling, Adora shakes her head and calls up. “Remember dinner? I'm filing it under "critical resource management priorities". You said you’d eat first.”

“I will!” Glimmer says from the rising flurry of papers. “I will I will, I’m coming, just-”

Flashing back down she grins sheepishly over her pile of haphazard documents.

“Don’t wanna fall behind on the war-winning.” She laughs, then coughs as Adora beams back at her, and finally awkwardly holds out her elbow- the only part of her arms not already occupied. “A-anyway. Shall we?”

“Sure.” Adora eyes the offered elbow for a second before carefully tucking her hand into its crook, the way Glimmer did with hers sometimes. “Like this?”

“Ye-p." Glimmer pops the 'p' with giggle. "Exactly like that.”

All that paper gathering has left Glimmer a bit red in the face. The flush doesn’t go away as Adora opens the door for her and they slip out into the hall, falling in step side-by-side.

In fact Glimmer’s face is still a little pink as she coughs again and asks.

“So uh. Not to pry but- WHEN was Bow talking to you about dates? No, wait- why. WHY was Bow talking with you about dates.”

“I don’t know why.” Adora admits, making a mental note to check Glimmer for fever if she’s still flushed an hour from now. “It was right after the three of us went on that wilderness training exercise. The one where everything was fine because Bow had the map, only then suddenly we didn’t have Bow, and then it was night.”

“Oh.” Gimmer winces. “That.”

“Yes. We had to cuddle up together for warmth, remember? And then Bow found us the next morning-”

“I remember I remember!”  

“Well.” Adora nods, happy to be on the same page. “It was right after we came back from that.”

“Okay good. Great." Glimmer mutters. "Very normal.” Mumbles to herself. "Noooo ulterior motives there." Growls softly. "Jerk." Sighs. "I hate it when he's right.."

Listening vaguely, Adora watches how rather than fading, the redness in Glimmer’s face only gets worse. She shortens her steps a little- Glimmer might still be winded from paper gathering, she might need the extra breath to get oxygen into her blood and finish recovering. Basic aerobics. Something she understood.   

But since Adora herself does not need to recover and there are other things she doesn't understand, she continues cheerfully.

“Bow was also talking about vehicle stability versus streamlined design, I think." She's been wondering why ever since. Maybe Glimmer understands? "Specifically the redundancy of a third wheel, for some reason.”

"He was WHAT!?"

Glimmer's yelp sends an avalanche of paper cascading from her arms and all over the floor. It is another ten minutes before they finish gathering, and re-stacking, and can start walking towards dinner again. It takes that long for the renewed flush in Glimmer's cheeks to fade away.  

Adora is smiling the whole time.

And, despite her earlier alarming sound of distress, Glimmer is smiling too.

Dates are nice, Adora decides, linking arms with Glimmer again as the head off, especially if they help Glimmer relax.

Hmm....maybe we should have a few more, before the end of the war? She considers the thought carefully. As a moral booster. Or a maintenance procedure. For strategic purposes...             

Glancing down at Glimmer's bright eyes and easy grin, Adora feels her stomach forget where the floor is again. 

... and not because I feel better looking at her. 

Glimmer catches her staring and winks. 

Adora grins back weakly. Well. Keeping my own moral up is important too, probably...

...

I'd better put that in a separate folder though.    

-

Somewhere a safe distance away, Bow sneezes.

“Gay,” he blesses himself, and smirks. “Speaking of- I bet they’re finding excuses to snuggle up with each other right now. I bet Adora went to make sure she had dinner, and Glimmer didn't throw a hairbrush at her," he rubs ruefully at the oddly overly neat spot in his hair, "and then she got all clingy, and- Ahh.”

Bow sighs, leaning back on his chair with his arms tucked behind his head. "I love peace and quiet. And I love being right~" 

He was and they were, but he wouldn’t know that for sure.

Not until two hours later, anyway, when Glimmer exploded into his workshop and imploded into excited sparkles about it.

[and-justice-for-eddie]

Hi! I’m Lizzie, longtime fandom tumblr lurker (mainly Stranger Things/Steddie, though I’ve written for other stuff too) who’s decided to make a blog so I can talk about my and others’ works :)

I’m currently working on a couple of Steddie AUs which I’m pretty excited about, so expect posting about those (though I’m a slow writer and a student, so no promises on when they might show up, lol). Looking forward to joining the community!

URL is a reference to Metallica’s …And Justice For All, and header is Roger Dean’s art from the Uriah Heep album Demons and Wizards :)

Fave fics of my own:

Through Death, My Arms Are Open [OFMD, Stede/Ed, one-shot, T]: Lightkeeper!Stede meets ghost!Ed.

Save A Prayer (Till The Morning After) [Stranger Things, Ronance, one-shot, T]: Nancy-centric introspection and a Ronance first kiss on the eve of the final battle.

The Making of a Love Story [Young Royals, Wilhelm/Simon, completed multi-chap, T]: a (s1) canon and post-canon story of them coming together, falling apart, and coming together again.

Slipping Away [Stranger Things, Eddie-centric, completed two-shot, T]: Eddie gets Vecna-d; this is what he sees, and how he escapes.

Best of the Myrmidons [The Song of Achilles, Patrochilles, one-shot, G]: Achilles’ reaction to finding out Patroclus is fated to die.

[datingcentralauckland]

2025 Hobbies, It's been a minute

My True Ancestry is crazy fun. Here is a sample match from the Imperial Roman Viminacium Serbia Pecine Necropolis from 100 AD.

Here is a breakdown of diets

Barley Porridge            Flatbread            Skyr            Porridge            Barley Bannock            Barley Flatbread            Grilled Fish            Pottage            Lentil Stew            Salted Fish            Seal Stew            Smoked Fish            Barley Bread            Lamb Stew            Oat and Barley Porridge            Berry and Apple Porridge            Baked Flatbread            Barley Oaten Bread            Fried Fish With Herbs            Oatcakes            Millet Porridge            Wild Berries and Honey Porridge            Fish Stew            Stuffed Cabbage Rolls            Freshwater Fish Stew            Roast Venison            Roasted Root Vegetables            Porridge Of Emmer Wheat            Porridge With Berries and Honey            Blood Pancakes       

Sample Matches

Celt + Cherusci (16.72) Celt + Frank (16.84) Gael + Cherusci (16.86) Viking Danish + Frank (16.99) Viking Danish + Cherusci (17.01) Celt (17.51) Frank (18.0) Viking Danish (18.17) Cherusci (18.41) Gael (18.86)

Top Celebrity Matches

Celtic Gladiator York/Celtic Briton Gladiator York

Post Viking Age Hedeby Schleswig Rathausmarkt Southern Jutland

Bronze Age Unetice Thuringia Leubingen Sommerda Germany (Nebra Sky Disc and Leubingen)

Elite Celtic Burial Germany Asperg-Grafenbuehl/Elite Celtic Burial Germany Ludwigsburg Roemerhuegel

Medieval Hungarian Bathory Female Nobility Pericei/Medieval Hungarian Bathory Male Nobility Pericei/Elek Bathory Hungarian Knight Pericei

Late Roman Empire Viminacium Serbia Vise Grobalja Necropolis/Roman Era Viminacium Serbia

Viking St. Brice Massacre Oxford (multiple samples)

Western Scythian Ukraine/Western-Scythian Outlier Black Sea/Gelonian/Helonian Scythians.

Stora Kronan Shipwreck Battle of Oland Sweden

Belgic Tribe Hillfort Danebury Hampshire England

Medieval Ireland Kilteasheen Roscommon Bishops Seat/Celtic Dibbles Farm Somerset England

Viking Celtic Boat Burial Iceland/Viking Gaelic Boat Burial Iceland/Hrafna-Flóki's Vilgerðarson's Expedition.

Hungarian Nobility Janos Mihaly Prominent Grave Royal House of Aba Benedictine Monastery

Elite Celtic Lady of Ditzingen-Schoeckingen

Viking Hesselbjergmarken Denmark

Bishop Peder Winstrup

Iron Age Briton Cambridgeshire England/Duntrune Castle

Celtic Dibbles Farm Somerset England/Menzies Castle

Elite Charioteer Briton Pocklington Yorkshire England/Pocklington Chariot Burial

Viking Settler Brattahlid Farm Greenland/Brattahlið / Erik the Red

Early Hanseatic HGH Luebeck Germany

Young Merovingian Noble

(Many cases of multiple samples indicate families)

It will be a plot line-

It is going to be super fun, to write a follow-up/stand-alone novel, which due to the Roman samples, and setting of Italy in the last book to be somewhat interesting mess to untangle.

Hobbies that disassociate = Win Win..... Capitalist realism is just so demure.......

It’s the concrete I notice mostly, like rivers of man tracing its way through civilization, on Christmas Day the streets are empty, and everyone has a home to go to. The after-work rush, quiet Sundays, the time between a high moon and a cold morning, people are making a home from the trails of time. A home to go to, built from the hard-earned scraps of denial, but slow truths are visions of empty realities, and they say of dangerous places and horrible experiences, that parts of people, do not return home. Yet, like a slow confession, a home built from hope can be a compromise to an imagination, in that what is assumed magical is in fact a wish on the contours of man’s evil. You could not imagine the draining of the world to be more comfortable than the filling of one.

The goddess of love was a slave to the suburban man-god, a faithless loyalty worshipping, sheep header of safe living, by violent intent. What is worse for an underground soul that is responsible for everything from a lifeless manikin that lies beside reality, trying to draw humanity out of it. You get nothing, you have nothing, you are nothing; you are the ugly duckling in full bloom working for that alternative lifestyle, and life was all about keeping that dream alive. Existence excelled at the brutality of it all, it was a nightmare, I cannot remember anything good about it, just a few rare moments here and there. It’s a tragedy, here I am holding this beautiful free soul of mine, and the cage says, slave in mediocracy to wear a birdcage, as a star of dwelling in dreams.

I have never been able to put these ideas of; beginning, love, wild, adventure, and freedom, into one thing, perhaps the vessel that comes closest to containing all these things is, spirit. When you meet a spirit, it’s like your clock is set at twelve, but with time experience, the clock travels to six. After the spirit has gone, the clock returns to one o’clock, because that is the reality now. On your next journey, the clock travels to seven o’clock and returns to two o’clock, because you can never return to your former self. After several journeys of time experience, reality becomes six o’clock and the journey becomes twelve o’clock, because this is the ancient spirit of finding one’s true journey.

Even the city nightclub dancers have a home to return through, like a coin that flips through the air with alternative sides of the same reality. Love brought a kind of silence with truth, and controlled the notion of time with fear; I would see worlds filled again with his lies and manipulation, evolved into this image for the purity of masks. It’s the small differences you notice about people, what they shop for, the sense of pride on their faces, the clothes they are wearing, the seasons that they keep abreast of, and how their loved ones look at them. It is the things I think of when I walk along the concrete streams of existence and reflect on how deep my uncommonness, is. Spite was an innutritious staple food, power from the old domains of logic and love; consumes its self-serving empire of control, what tragedies we are.

See you in about five years reality....

[fadadoshampoo]

[gakutenn]

Battle Royale - Shuya x Shogo

[fancytokyo]

              ・ロワイアル, 𝕭𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚 𝕽𝖔𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖚.

[evilqueenceci]

♤ Battle Royale of Koushun Takami headers

♧ like or reblog if you save

◇ credit of @queenyato

[callmwaifu]