#but also when it takes so long and i have so many ideas for different fics. only certain ones get written

[knavesflames]

heyyy el

requesting politely reader ... tending to ... arlecchino with her mouth and going from starting timid to taking a bit more control to arles surprise

lots of care and love just like in the one you just posted :3

mhm ty

Hi anon<33 I hope you are doing well and having a nice night (it’s night for me). I liked this idea >:) sorry lol it took me a while to come up with a concept but I hope this suffices 😁😁😁 (hi guys the dirty words are slowly making a reappearance)

Word count: 2.2k

Contents: soft dom!reader (kind of yes), bottom Arlecchino, cunnilingus (funny word), fingering at the end, orgasm denial (ONCE GUYS OKAY ONCE), also praise (guys I’m cooked)

Songs I listened to (for fun): fantastic- king princess (is this one obvious or not), disease- lady gaga, shhh!- viviz, pivot- HEYOON, boyfriend- dove Cameron, impurities- le sserafim

There’s more but I forgot

Nsft utc<3

Arlecchino is not a receiver. She gives and takes nothing, it’s how she’s always liked it, whatever the reason may be. She has not explained, and you doubt she will. Arlecchino is very secretive, you’ve come to learn. She divulges what she must, and keeps the rest hidden. Even you, who seems to know more about her than anyone ever has, is kept in the dark about a lot of things– what exactly triggers her nightmares? What truly happened with that ‘Mother’ of hers? There are rumours, of course. Arlecchino is mad and cursed, she killed her Mother ruthlessly without reason, she killed her best friend for nothing other than a simple quarrel. You know them to be false, now you know her better, but what you can’t seem to understand is why she lets the lies fester, why allows herself to be portrayed as a cruel monster. She can’t seem to answer you.

Arlecchino also refuses to tell you why she pushes herself so hard, or why she has such strict rules for herself. You beg her to take that damn suit off constantly (for.. Multiple reasons, both you and her know that well enough– she only obliges when it ends in you as a quivering mess on the bed). “What happened to regular clothing? I know you dislike dresses, but you don’t have to force your body into that silly suit all the time.” is a phrase often uttered. Silence is the only answer given.

Silence seems to be an answer you get from her often. In different contexts, of course. Sometimes, she is silent when she is comfortable, when she is thinking, when she is angry.. You realised long ago that she is a woman of few words– and even fewer sounds. During the rare occasions you get to make her feel good (whether that’s simultaneous to your own pleasure, or before), the only sounds you really hear are the soft breaths and the slight grunts whenever you do something she particularly likes. You have made it your mission to coax more sounds out of her, even if it’s the last thing you do. You experiment with different things each time you get to make her feel good, anything remotely sexual she’s done to you, you try with her. Degradation doesn’t work, her only response is a cock of her eyebrow and a scoff. Praise is a little bit better, earning a soft kiss on whatever part of your skin she can reach. Tying her up is out of the question– she has made it abundantly clear multiple times she only enjoys the act of bondage, however small, when you are on the receiving end. It’s the case for a lot of things, and it almost irritates you. Almost. it turns out the answer is something much simpler than anything you’ve ever tried, and you mentally curse yourself for taking so long to figure it out (for Arlecchino, that was the point. She likes the game, even if she truly is trying to keep her weakness hidden).

The answer was something she had done to you almost every time you had engaged in some form of intimate act with her. There aren’t many acts more intimate than your partner giving up the ability to speak because their tongue seems to be.. Busy. You just hadn’t realised that Arlecchino would ever be on the receiving end. So, after much pleading (and begging to the point it almost seems you’re begging her to fuck you instead of the other way around), she seemed to relent. Barely.

“Let me try,” comes the soft whisper from your lips, hitting the side of her neck as you gently place kisses there. There’s no reaction, but you could swear you felt a shiver. Moving away from the milky, unmarred skin of her neck (one of the only places that isn’t marked with either her curse or an array of scars), you almost expertly push the blazer off her shoulders before slowly sinking to your knees. The carpet is fuzzy, but it doesn’t do much to soften the hard wood underneath. You can’t find yourself caring. The blazer lands on the back of the desk chair. Excited, desperate fingers tug at the buttons of those godforsaken trousers until they finally do what you want them to do. You’ve done what you can, you can’t push her hips up so you can continue to take them off, she’s stronger than you’ll ever be (you like that). “Don’t you think it would feel nice? You know it feels nice. Do you not think you deserve it?”

“I do not deserve the pleasure you give me,” she murmurs, a rare show of her inner thoughts. The woman criticises herself too much, you think. You wish she wouldn’t be so strict with herself.

“Irrelevant,” She shivers at the slight sternness of your voice. It mirrors her own. “Do you want it?”

Arlecchino doesn’t respond for a while. Her hand moves to your head, and she caresses your hair, gently stroking and tugging at the strands before she eventually speaks, a whisper, a subconscious attempt to hide the fact she’s about to chase something she never allows herself to. “Put a pillow under your knees, at least.”

You grin, so pleased with yourself. You stand again, only to sprint and find a pillow. It happens to be the pillow you sleep on, it doesn’t matter. You return to your position only to find her trousers messily on the ground, and the top four buttons of her dress shirt undone. The look in her eyes is one you’ve rarely seen– want. “Beg.” you whisper, the grin still on your face. Arlecchino’s own face twists into a frown.

“I will die before I beg for anything.” Her tone is resolute, and you sit there nonetheless, unmoving apart from the finger tracing up and down her toned thigh. You both stay like that for an agonising two minutes before she barely mumbles. “Please.”

You are incredibly aware that you won’t get more than that, so, even though you know it doesn’t do much, you mutter “good girl”. It does do something, though. You barely hear it, but her breath shakes. You take it as an initiative to start, so you let your lips find her thigh, planting wet, open mouthed kisses up towards her inner thigh. You continue, and– she’s soaked already. You’ve done exactly nothing and she’s as wetter than you’ve ever seen her. Your eyes move up to hers, a raise of your eyebrow as you open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off before you can speak.

“Do not. I am aware of the.. situation.”

“But you’re all wet and it’s all for my tongue. Isn’t that sweet?” You’ve never been this cocky at all, and Arlecchino would be a liar if she said she didn’t like it. She tries to find words, something to refute the claim, but her words are ripped from her lips when she feels your own lips graze her clit. It’s a tiny movement, really, but one she isn’t entirely used to. The only reaction she makes, however, is a slightly sharper exhale. Until your eyes stare straight into hers and you do it again, though for longer. Then again, though this time your tongue presses flat against it. Your tongue doesn’t move, much to Arlecchino’s dismay. The hand that rested in your hair gently tugs.

“Continue.” She speaks breathily, and her words shake. You can practically hear her gulp as she tries (and fails) to calm herself, and you know she’s probably telling herself to show no emotion. Though, when you finally start moving your tongue in slow, languid motions, you hear her shaky sigh and feel her hand in your hair tighten even more. You try to find a rhythm that affects her the most, alternating between soft licks and harder presses— you find that swirling your tongue around her clit, occasionally moving down to dip your tongue into her aching cunt. Your eyes dart up to her every few seconds to catch her mouth falling open and her head tilting back. When her mouth isn’t open, she’s stifling any noise she could possibly make, gritting her teeth so hard you’re almost certain they’re going to crack. The next time you tear your eyes away from her skin and move them to her face, her eyes are squeezed shut, and only then does a quiet groan escape her.

Something seems to change in your mind, because your hands move to grip her thighs, holding them apart despite them trembling. She’s sensitive, after all, it isn’t often she gets taken care of, is it? The blackened hand not pulling greedily at the strands on your head moves in an attempt to push your hands away, but your voice vibrates against her (which of course, causes another quiet sound to slip from her). “Keep your hands on the chair.”

Arlecchino’s eyes shoot open, a gasp practically ripping through her lungs. “You cannot expect me t—“

“Do it or I stop. Let me finish making you feel good.” She scolds herself internally for letting you get too comfortable with her own tricks. Either way, it feels good and she doesn’t want you to stop, though she’d rather cut off her own arm than admit it. She doesn’t need to say a word, though, the small groans (and whimpers) tell you everything. Especially when they grow louder, and her chest begins heaving, and her voice breaks with every utterance of your name. It’s the most pleasure she’s ever outwardly expressed.

“Why did you stop?” Her exasperated, breathless voice echoes the room. You stopped just as her orgasm was reaching the peak, causing it to ebb away quickly, a sense of disappointment growing in Arlecchino’s stomach. Her eyes, now piercing into you with that familiar irritated stare, meet yours, your own full of amusement. Wiping your chin (when you’re eating pussy like it’s the last meal you’ll ever eat, it tends to get messy, doesn’t it?), you chuckle and respond in your own teasing lilt.

“You taste so good, and your pussy is so damn pretty, Arlecchino. I don’t particularly want to stop right now. You can take it, can’t you? Keep your hands still.” Her face twists into some odd mix of mortified and aroused, but your tongue meets her clit again, and the only sound she can make is something so uncharacteristic, a whine. You continue exactly what you were doing before, though this time you decide to slide a finger into her— the reaction she gave was definitely a pleasant one, her back arching off of the chair, her hands squeezing the seat of it in an attempt to keep them still. Arlecchino reaches the peak quicker this time, and despite your bossy orders, she finds herself melting into you completely, her hips grinding herself onto your tongue as much as she possibly can. It’s completely different to how she was at the beginning, her plan to remain unbothered and stoic foiled.

“Can I— please don’t stop this time.” When there comes no response from you other than a curl of your finger, she moans your name in a useless attempt to get you to answer her. You’re being mean, she thinks, and you’re using everything she does against her. “Answer me. Tell me I can cum.”

How is she still demanding things from you even in this position? She lost all control a long time ago. You find your eyes opening though, and while adding a second finger, your voice softens and you speak, voice full of affection. “Be good and cum for me, then. Now, before I change my mind. Let yourself feel good, yeah?”

Arlecchino doesn’t need to be told twice, because her hips lose whatever rhythm they had when your tongue presses flat against her, letting her choose the pace and the rhythm she knows will get her there quickest (it doesn’t take long, the woman is so sexually pent up it’s laughable). Within a minute, she’s crying out, her hands flying up to her face to cover the obscene expression she knows is there. You pay no attention, only watching every movement with a sense of satisfaction and a smile in your eyes. You keep your finger curling and your tongue still until her body stops rocking, and her hands leave her face. When her face, the one you find so beautiful, emerges from behind her hands, mascara slightly smudged, you can’t help but snicker as you pull out and away from her.

“Better?” You ask, wiping your chin once more with the back of your hand. You somehow look so smug and the look on your face pisses Arlecchino off, just a little. How you’re so calm and collected and she’s a fucked out mess sat in her desk chair.

“Yes,” she says, her voice sharper than she intends it to be really, but she continues in the same tone. “I do hope you don’t think we’re finished, hm?” Your head tilts in slight confusion, but the smile remains on your face. After a while, Arlecchino’s own lips twitch upwards, barely noticeable, but you notice nonetheless. “How could I leave you without feeling good, too? Go to the bedroom, please.”

[moonandstarshyuck]

"Always."

lando norris x gn!bf!reader

notes: I haven’t written since 2019, so bear with me. I’ve found myself thinking about a little blurb for Lando recently (actually a lot of ideas, but this one is sticking with me more than the others at the moment).

For some context, Lando’s been receiving a huge amount of hate online (and in-person) recently. I haven’t been a fan for that long—I got into F1 this summer, in 2024—but I’ve grown to care about him. I was there for Lando losing the championship, and while I think we all knew it would come to this (Max winning felt inevitable) but I’m proud of Lando for pushing so hard this entire year.

Still, with all the hate directed at him, I’m seeing a new side of him, and I’m learning that he’s a person with feelings like anyone else. I can tell he doesn’t always have the highest opinion of himself and tends to take the blame for anything that goes wrong during his races. What struck me about this is how much I relate to it. I blame myself for things out of my control or when I mess up. What sucks with Lando is that his small, human errors are what so many people focus on to criticize him—whether it’s why he didn’t win the championship or why they think he’s a bad person (which he absolutely isn’t).

The inspiration for this came from an interview he did after the Brazilian GP. At that point, everyone knew it was almost mathematically impossible for Lando to win the championship, and he talked about struggling in the aftermath: “I literally couldn’t sleep for the first two days…So I did like, what, 36-40 hours straight. So that probably made everything worse. When you’re tired, you’re more moody, and that kind of thing…I was just sat at home alone. It probably would have been better if I had been with my friends. But they don’t live in Monaco. They also have lives and are busy doing other things. And I’m a big overthinker, so like the whole flight home, the whole week, it just played over and over in my head. What could I have done differently? Why did I do that? Why did I not do this? You start thinking of all the scenarios that you kind of blame yourself for, why it’s now not possible, that kind of thing. And yeah, because I overthink and I struggle with that kind of thing, that took a bigger toll in the days after. It wasn’t an easy time.”

And I keep on finding myself wishing someone could have been there for him in person, so that he was okay. So, I wrote this. The reader in this is dating Lando but is written as a gender-neutral character that uses They/Them pronouns. The reader also has a service dog, a Bernese Mountain Dog named Thunder, to help with their own depression and anxiety (I’m not an expert on service dogs, so this many not be 100% accurate).

They woke up that early morning to the sunlight shining on their face, streaming in from the window outside. The bliss of sleep clung to them as they lay there, cocooned in warmth, the covers snug around their body. They stretched lazily, blinking their eyes open.

Instinctively, they turned to look beside them—only to find the space next to them empty. It’s too early in the morning to be anywhere else but in bed, even for training, they thought. Lando should still be here.

The realization pulled them out of their sleepy haze. The past couple of days had been not kind to Lando. They knew that he had a tendency to keep his feelings bottled up and beat himself up over his perceived failures. They understood that feeling all too well—the guilt, the constant sense of disappointment, the nagging thought that were never good enough. They had wrestled with those feelings since they were a child.

It wasn’t something that had an easy fix. If they had found the answer, they would have shared it with Lando years ago. But they had learned that the best way to fight those thoughts wasn’t isolation. Talking to someone, writing feelings down, even simple positive affirmations—thought they might sound silly—could help push back against the negative spiral. They had told Lando this countless times.

But Lando had a problem with not wanting to “inconvenience” anyone with his emotions. No matter how many times they reassured him that they were always there for him, he struggled to let himself. They didn’t blame him—it was human to struggle against your own mind.

What made everything worse was the constant online hate. Every little mistake or sarcastic comment from Lando seemed to turn into an avalanche of criticism. They remembered the first time they’d seen him like a hateful comment about himself on Instagram—the little heart next to a cruel statement, paired with note: “Creator liked this.” It had broken their heart. How could the Lando they loved ever believe such awful things about himself?

After Brazil, it had been clear that he wasn’t okay. He’d barely spoken since coming home, choosing instead to himself. They had given him space, hoping he’d find a way to process his feelings. But by the second morning, when he still hadn’t come to bed—almost forty hours after returning home—they knew they couldn’t stand by any longer.

That morning, they rose slowly from the bed, a plan beginning to form in their mind. Lanod needed someone to step in—someone to remind him he didn’t have to face his struggles alone. They were determined to be that person for him.  They couldn’t take it anymore, seeing the person they loved so badly, punishing himself over his ‘failures.’

The first step was to confirm where he was. Grabbing their phone, they opened Twitch and navigated to Max’s stream. After a few moments of watching, they heard Lando’s voice—tired, strained, but unmistakably his. He was joking with Max, his words clipped, like he was holding himself together with sheer willpower. It was enough to break their heart. They opened their messages with Max.

Thunder's Owner

Lan’s streaming with you rn?

Sent at 7:48 AM.

After a few seconds, Max replied.

Maximilian

Yeah he’s on voice-only.

Sent at 7:50 AM.

Gonna do something about him?

Sent at 7:50 AM.

Max knew. Of course he did. He probably heard the exhaustion in Lando’s voice, the edge self-loathing that came with overthinking. They typed back quickly:

Thunder's Owner

Yeah

Sent 7:52 AM.

Going to unplug his setup and drag him out of there.

Sent 7:52 AM.

Maximilian

Lol.

Sent 7:52 AM.

I’ll keep an eye out for when he disappears.

Sent 7:53 AM.

Thunder's Owner

Thx

Sent 7:54 AM.

They quietly made their way to Lando’s gaming room and eased the door open. Lando sat at his desk, controller in hand, headset clamped over messy curls.  He looked worn down, his shoulders slumped as he focused on the screen. His voice through, muted put playful, as he bantered with Max.

For a moment, they just watched him. Even now, he was handsome, but the tiredness in his expression made their chest ache. He deserved rest. He deserved to feel okay. And he wasn’t going to get that by sitting here punishing himself.

As soon as Lando died in-game and leaned back in his chair, they seized the opportunity. They crossed the room, catching his attention when they came into view.

“Why’re you—” Lando began, frowning, but they didn’t let him finish. Reaching down, they unplugged everything from the wall.

“What the hell—” he exclaimed, spinning around in his chair.

“No,” they said firmly, cutting him off. “I’m not you hurt yourself anymore. Get up.”

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. “You can’t just do that!” he protested, but they were already tugging gently at him arm, urging him out of his chair.

“Angel, what are you—”

“No,” they repeated, their voice steady. “Get up,”

Lando hesitated for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and standing. They took his hand, leading him out of the gaming room and down the hall to the living room. He didn’t resist, but he followed like a man in a daze. Once they reached the couch, they turned to him. “Sit,” they said, pointing at the cushions. Lando raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to argue, but they shook their head. “Stay.”

They turned to Thunder, who had been waiting for them in the hallway, and told him, “Thunder, guard,” while pointing at Lando.

The dog immediately moved into position, standing alert in front of the couch. Lando’s eyes widened slightly as Thunder fixed him with an unblinking stare. He shifted as if to get up, but Thunder’s stance didn’t waver.

“Jeez, I wasn’t going to get up,” he mumbled to Thunder, but Thunder just sat there and watched him until he fully relaxed back into the couch.

The thought ran through Lando’s head, how he had honestly forgotten how menacing his own dog could look. He knew Thunder was trained, saw reminders of it daily with how he interacted with his partner, but he was still shocked at how trained Thunder really was at that moment.

Thunder was still staring at him when he pulled out his phone from his pocket, opening up his texts with Max.

LN

I was just dragged out of my gaming room and told to sit on the couch and like a dog.

Sent at 8:05 AM.

Not against it, but how tf did they get so determined?

Sent at 8:05 AM.

Thunder’s watching me right now.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

I forgot how menacing he could be.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

*Picture attached.*

Lol.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

Max (The 1st One)

He’s like ‘try me, I dare you’

Sent at 8:06 AM.

LN

Yeah, I don’t particularly want to try him

Sent at 8:07 AM.

Max (The 1st One)

Lol.

Sent at 8:07 AM.

They told me before they did it

Sent at 8:07 AM.

I just let them. Lol.

Sent at 8:07 AM.

LN

Helpful. What if they were trying to  kill me?

Sent at 8:08 AM.

They wouldn’t have had to if you kept doing what you were doing.

Sent at 8:09 AM.

Lando’s let out a quiet sigh, Max’s words sinking in. He glanced at Thunder, who hadn’t moved, and felt a pang of guilt. He’d pushed himself too far again, and this time it had clearly worried his partner.

A few minutes later, his partner walked back into their living room. He thought they looked beautiful, wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of boxers. They were entirely focused on the bowl they were carrying, and only looked up when they got close enough to hand it to him. He gently took the bowl, looked into it and saw it was one of his prep meals. While not his favorite breakfast, he knew he just needed to eat first, so he started taking bites.

He glanced up every so often, and each time he did, his partner was just sitting there and watching him eat. Lando almost chuckled at his own thought that they looked just like Thunder when watching him, and he smiled into his bowl at the thought. His partner didn’t see his smile, but he continued to eat until he had finished the bowl.

When he was done eating, he set the bowl down, and his partner again pulled him up by the crook of his arm. He just let them do so, having a thought of what was going to happen next.

His partner led them both down the hallway to their bedroom, and opened the door, leading him to sit on their bed, then they turned around and went to close their blinds and draw their black-out curtains to cover up the sunlight from the window. They had turned on their bedside lamp earlier, and the soft orange glow of the lamp permeated the room. They walked past him again, going to close the door after letting Thunder in, then they walked back to their side of the bed, and pulled him to lie down against them.

As he settled against their chest, he felt a bit odd, it being a bit of a difference to feel how much he was loved by them. How much they cared for him. And he finally spoke again, “Thank you.”

“Always, Lan. Always.” They replied, pressing a kiss to his hair.

And for the first time in days, he let himself sleep.

author's note: got inspired to actually write something for once...ty @koalapastries for the inspiration (unknowing inspiration but ty) (also sorry for using your layout outline

comments & reblogs appreciated

and i made the dividers :)

[shadyr4m]

REWATCHING SEASON 2 EPISODE 7 OF ARCANE

+ some of my highlights and notable moments that I enjoyed bc people can’t understand media anymore

This is mostly an infodump of stuff I can fit into a twitter thread/didn't rly want to make into a thread. I'm not great at words so I apologize in advance, I am sure there are many people much better at analysis than I.

I want to start off by saying I am heavily invested in timebomb so this is very much going to be a ship analysis. If you're looking for someone unbiased i am very much not the person for that 😭

FIRST OFF:

The disc on the music box is adorable!!! It features au Powder (who I am going to refer to as just Powder for the duration of my analysis) and au Ekko

Compared to the normal Disc

This is very obviously because it takes place in a different universe, one without Vi or "Jinx".

The first scene starts off with AU Ekko writing in his notebook. (Cute mention is Powder's doodle in his notebook!!) Then we see flashes of the wild rune. This is when AU Ekko switches to canon Ekko.

Also one of my favorite silly images from this episode is this one.. Powder is being so adorable and Ekko is just scared out of his MIND. it's so silly.

In the Last drop, Powder asks Ekko. "What is up with you? You've been out of it all day?". One thing I noticed in my rewatch is that i think Powder is aware this Ekko isn't HER Ekko. This is just one instance of many that makes me think this.

This hideout seems so much more vibrant and loved, similar to Jinx's hideout after Isha. It's colorful. There are guard rails that I like to think was pushed by Vander. We can see Ekko's art scattered around. It just shows how much more support and family Powder has compared to Jinx, which i mention a lot.

Id also like to note Ekko being shocked au him went to powder for help. In his mind at this time he believes Jinx to be all that is left, no more Powder. Through out the episode we see that change.

Notice how Powder gets upset at Ekko in this scene. However, she doesn't react explosively like Jinx would've. She handled it in a way that shows she had support. She told him to leave instead. Again, the main difference between Powder and Jinx isn't only Vi but also the existence of multiple support systems that Jinx simply didn't have.

THIS FLASHBACK! Oh my god this flashback. The fact it happened after he upset Powder? I think it shows just how much he truly cares about Jinx/Powder. He remembers VIVIDLY the day that he thought he killed her. Jinx was his childhood best friend, and I don't think that kind of feeling ever truly goes away. He doesn't want to hurt any version of her, not even the alternate universe her. We see that showcased more later on. Also, random probably insane note. He is interrupted by small children playing, having fun. This isn't a coincidence, it shows he does miss the moments from when they were kids.

While talking with Heimerdinger, we see Ekko look at Powder multiple times. Watching her laugh and be expressive, he smiles. When she doesn't return it we see him get upset. Once more this brings me to my point that he doesn't want to hurt her. Considering he hasn't known this Powder very long you can see where I gather my point that he doesn't want to hurt her in GENERAL. Any version of her.

THIS SCENE!! He is such a bad liar it's adorable. This brings me to my earlier point, Powder knows what's up!! She suspects something 100%. He is talking about this dream her like it was real.

"You aren't the kind of person who helps other people with their projects. Your ideas change the world. I can't shake the feeling that that's who you're supposed to be."

Are you LISTENING TO THIS? He is obviously talking about Jinx. You can tell this by the first sentence because obviously Powder IS that kind of person. He's starting to see that Jinx is just a part of Powder, one that is unavoidable and that he unknowingly appreciates in a sense. Like two sides of one coin he can't see Powder without Jinx and that is good. I think it is here he realizes truly just how much he cares about Jinx.

This whole montage is beautiful but I want to zero in on two things. Powder's reaction to the notebook and how she looks at Ekko after. NOW THIS. This is the nail in the coffin for her. She knows that this is not her Ekko. She has fully gathered that he isn't from this universe.

Also heimerdinger totally knows how Ekko feels you cannot tell me otherwise. Pushing him to go to the party? yeah he knows what you are.

THIS WHOLE SCENE. I AM NOT ANALYZING THE WHOLE THING HERE BUT IT IS GORGEOUS. I saw someone talking about how it was animated on 4's to signify the way Ekko can only go back 4 seconds and I honestly shed a tear. THE SONG TOO? I encourage everyone to look at the lyrics because they're beautiful.

Okay now for my favorite part of this episode so much to dissect and i'm totally going to mansplain but yk..

"I used to dream the undercity could be like this" — That sets the tone for the whole conversation and just what world he is talking about. The canon one.

"But somewhere, I got consumed by all the ways it wasn't. I gave up on it. Gave up on YOU." — Heavy emphasis on this line. Once more he is talking about Jinx. He is talking about how he got so consumed by the way that Jinx wasn't good, and he gave up on her. Believed she was irredeemable. Powder showed him that Jinx is capable of love and happiness, it's just under that tough protective shell. The undercity in the metaphor is Jinx, from my interpretation.

"I promise i'll never forget this." — Now time for my insanity. He doesn't forget this. That's why he saves Jinx from ending her life in the first place. He remembers Powder and knows that with the right support Jinx doesn't have to be the way she is. It's not that she "needs to be fixed" she just needs to be LOVED, like Powder. He sees that now. He sees how in the au the love that everyone shares for one another shaped the undercity beautifully, and made everyone in it much healthier mentally despite going through hardships. That is beautiful. People with mental illness are not unlovable they just need more support, it can't be cured, or fixed just healed. Mental illness is always there it is how you DEAL with it that matters.

Nothing too major to talk about with the kiss. It's sweet I love it, but nothing too notable for me to say about it.

Finally, Ekko leaves the au. I have seen people say that this is a sacrifice, he could've had everything he wanted and he gave it up to save the people at home. But i take insanity to another level. I see this as him appreciating his home. He knows he can never truly love this Powder because she isn't the version he fell in love with. He learned to appreciate Jinx even through her flaws, and that while this world has everything he could want and more he can have that home too.

I am experiencing HEAVY timebomb brainrot if you can’t already tell. I was tired of people taking things in the complete wrong way with this episode, if anyone has different views pls tell me I love hearing how other people took certain scenes. there are a few scenes I love but I would’ve made this post way too long..

[nikkalick]

Veilguard Spoilers below the cut. About the Blight, the current state of Southern Thedas, and the Veil…I’ve never made a rant like this so bear with my ramblings, please

I’ve seen so many people say, “We should’ve been able to tear down the Veil” and I feel like I’m going insane every time I see that take like…

MAMA A BLIGHT IS BEHIND IT??!

You think what happened to Southern Thedas was bad this game? You have no idea what’s in store for you if you open up the fucking Veil and let that trickle of Blight become a flood.

Point of Order just to set the scene with how bad the literal Blight is

“They (the writers/devs/Bioware/EA) nuked Southern Thedas so they don’t have to deal with the lore the past content set up there going forward”

Maybe. But also the only other Blight we’ve seen in game was the Fifth Blight. By all accounts a statistical anomaly in how it acted when compared to Blights 1-4. I don’t wanna delve too deep into this because it is so not the point I’m trying to make with this post, but the Architect very much had a hand in waking up Blight numero 5 and very likely impacted it in a way that made it less volatile. Past Blights saw Darkspawn hitting big populations hard and fast. The 5th started slow, in the wilds, at Ostagar. Away from large amounts of people. It is mentioned in DA:O that this Blight “feels different”.

The Blight we see in Veilguard is more in line with the Blights that came before the 5th. Something something the Inquisitor writing “worse than we have seen in living memory” because the only living memory anyone has of a Blight was the one from 20 years ago. Which was bad, but not as bad as they usually are. Veilguard’s is bad the way Blights are meant to be (if not worse because, ya know, the Gods), and it was still ONLY A TRICKLE OF WHAT THE BLIGHT IS BEHIND THE VEIL. If the full force of the Blight escapes the prison/the Fade that’s it. Goodnight to everyone in this world both within and without all of Thedas.

Moving on.

“Solas can move the Blight into the new prison that was meant for the Gods and then tear down the Veil. That was his plan.”

Sorry, did we play the same game? We know what the Blight is now. It’s the last remnants of the Titans. Twisted, broken, angry, nightmarish. It’s all that’s left. All that’s left are the plagued dreams of ancient beings that are so devastated because of what Mythal, Solas, and the rest of the Evanuris did to them with the very dagger we now hold.

I want to take a moment to address that what I’m about to say is said as someone who’s been trapped in Solavellen hell for years. I love Solas and his character, and I believe that yes, he had a plan that would have both moved (or killed) the remaining Evanuris and the Blight to a new prison while simultaneously tearing down the Fade. But if you, like me, wanted to redeem this idiot despite everything, then pray tell how does Solas locking up the Blight offer him said redemption?

How does locking away the only thing that remains of the Titans into a prison and throwing away the key redeem him? The Evanuris fucked up when using the Titan’s, idk…life blood? To take form. Solas fucked up when he, upon Mythal’s behest, created a weapon that sundered the Titan’s (and the Dwarves as whole) from their magic, from their dreams, from their very being. And they did it because they thought they had a right to. They put themselves above the dwarves and as a result they caused the Blight. And then they hid the Blight away. Yes, they hid it away to keep people safe, and yes, locking it and the Evanuris away when they tried to use what was essentially a bio weapon to maintain their position of power was a call that kept people safe for a long time. But the Veil was a consequence of that call. And while the Blight was trapped in its prison, behind the Veil, it got angrier and angrier with every passing generation.

Removing the Veil and shoving it into yet another prison will not only piss it off even more, but it doesn’t allow for Solas to actually atone for the part he played in its creation and the part he played in destroying what the dwarves used to have. He has to uphold the current prison. He has to go to it to try to soothe it. To heal it as best he can. Locking it away elsewhere, and then trying to offer it salvation after the fact? It’s not gonna cut it.

He has to go to the Black City, he has to face what he did, and he has to put aside his favorable bias towards giving the Elves “back what they lost” (a world current day Elves don’t remember and have never known) to instead put the safety and wellbeing of every being in the current world at a higher priority. That’s part of his redemption arc by the way; learning to value the lives of the people that walk this new world he had a hand in creating. Because when he wakes up before the start of DA:I he doesn’t value anyone. Shit, when Felassan declines to help him destroy the Veil and suggests he learns to appreciate the world that has been in place for centuries, Solas kills him for it.

All that said, he can’t fully put things right. He can’t reconnect the Blight with the dormant remains of the Titans. Because, as the game tells us, we’d then be faced with a bunch of Titans the size of mountains rampaging, rightfully so, because of the wrongs that were committed against them. But Solas can put in the work to find a way to ease its agony. And maybe, if given the time and the patience, one day the Veil could come down because the Blight will have had the opportunity and been given the help it needed to actually heal from the trauma that created it. And maybe taking the time to do that will have, in some small way, allowed him to make up for the shitty hand he played in destroying the Dwarves. A race he (finally) sees as his equal. Because that’s a big part of his fucking redemption arc.

[realitythroughthelensoffiction]

Good Omens: on fate and reality

In season 1 of Good Omens, The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch play a vital role in helping to avert the Apocalypse. Anathema dedicated her life to understanding Agnes's prophecies and thereby helping to fulfill them. But in the final episode of season 1, when the package with the follow-up collection of prophecies arrives, she decides to burn them, because she does no longer want to live her life according to the writings of her ancestor.

This is interpreted by many as Anathema taking her fate in her own hands instead of subjugating herself to something that was foretold. But the fact that she burns the prophecies instead of studying them does not necessarily mean that she changed her fate. It is entirely possible that her life will still take the road that Agnes foresaw for her. Agnes probably even predicted the burning of the new prophecies.

The only difference is that now, Anathema knows that all the decisions she makes are of her own free will, while otherwise she would have always wondered what she did because she wanted it and what she did only because Agnes had prophesied it.

A further indication that people acting according to their free will does not contradict the idea of fate is God's Ineffable Plan itself. At the end of season 1, when the Apocalypse has just been averted, Crowley asks Aziraphale: "What if the Allmighty planned it like this all along? From the very beginning?" Aziraphale agrees that this might very well be possible.

So even though all the people involved made their own free choices, they could still have been acting according to a plan God laid out very long ago.

Conclusion No. 1: Free will and fate are not mutually exclusive.

However, it seems that some things can be altered. Adam as the Antichrist has the power to bend reality. He uses it to change the fact that Satan is his father and to bring back people from the dead, for example Lesley. When Aziraphale expresses doubt about Mr. Young really being Adam's father, Crowley says: "It is. It is now. And it always was. He did it."

So Adam did not only change reality for the present and the future, but also for the past. He was able to make things that had already happened undone.

Conclusion No. 2: In the Good Omens universe, reality can be altered, even retroactively.

And the ability to change reality does not seem to be limited to Adam. Another example, as Goldfarb Styrt (cf. p. 127; cited below) points out, is Crowley being able to get himself and his Bentley through the burning M25, while Hastur gets discorporated. Crowley simply imagines that everything is fine, and by imagining it, it becomes real. Goldfarb Styrt (cf. p. 123, pp. 126-127; cited below) also suggests that it might be the individual's interpretation of reality that matters.

That sounds really fitting to me. Because the Bentley is burning, no matter how Crowley imagines otherwise, and it explodes as soon as Crowley isn't concentrating on keeping it together anymore. And, as @indigovigilance mentions in this post, the people who witnessed the incidents during the attempted Armageddon, like Atlantis rising from the sea, still remember them, even after Adam undid everything again.

But Crowley and the humans interpret the aforementioned events in a different way than you would expect, and their interpretations have an impact.

In any case, reality and the ways in which it can be altered are important themes in season 1 of Good Omens. And season 2 contains hints that they might play a big role in the finale as well. The most prominent example of these hints is the recurring mention of the Book of Life.

I will go into more detail about the Book of Life in my next post, but the important bit for now is that by erasing someone's name from it, you create a version of reality in which "they will never have existed". So the Book of Life is another tool to effectively alter reality.

Conclusion No. 3: Reality and the possibilities to alter it are important themes in Good Omens and will be relevant to plot of the finale.

That's it for now. What are your thoughts on fate and reality in Good Omens?

Work cited: Goldfarb Styrt, Philip: Sola Fide. Ineffability, Good Omens, and the Reformation. In: Giannini, Erin and Taylor, Amanda (Eds.): Deciphering Good Omens. Nice and Accurate Essays on the Novel and Television Series, pp. 120-132.

@kimberleyjean

[l-in-the-light]

About Trafalgar Law and his vitiligo

Feel free to ignore this post if you so wish, but I chose to speak up on this matter. I have seen so many fanarts that portray Law with his white skin patches, often looking like a dalmatian and it bothers me. Are you all aware that animal-like patterns for vitiligo are considered insulting? And you all might look at me weirdly now and ask "how can something so cute/wholesome/unique possibly be bothersome to anyone?!" Read further on your own risk, slight tmi.

Law's disease is of course fictional. Visually it looks the closest to vitiligo, but it has a lot in common with autoimmune skin diseases as well. I happen to know how it's like to live with a skin disease. Meds for my condition aren't really for curing anything, they just make the symptoms dimnish, but in return they leave white patches on my skin that are resistant to tanning for a long while (also those meds are very dangerous for your kidneys apparently if used too often, as a side note). Why would anyone use them? Well, because it's a hereditary skin condition: it never goes away and there's no way to cure it, those meds are literally the only thing that does anything. I just get lucky whenever symptoms aren't visible for some time until they inevitably come back anyway. And believe me, this isn't "wholesome", "cute" or "unique" to have discolored skin patches. You all probably have no idea (why would you have anyway, it's natural that you don't) how it's like in summer, when you go on a bus or tram, you wear a t-shirt because it's freaking hot and you can't hide under the clothes or you risk melting or fainting. And people see your discolored skin or red patches on your skin. You know how they react? They stare at your hands/arms and then they move away. That's the default reaction whenever your skin looks unusual. People would rather move away, just in case it's something contagious. They will also stare, a lot, and you can feel it's judgemental, even though my condition is in no way my own fault (or anyone else's who also has it), thank you very much.

That being said, I doubt Law would be happy parading openly with white patches visible on his skin. Most people wouldn't realize that's it's just a leftover from his old, cured disease. They would simply assume what people always assume: that it's something contagious. Evidence below, if you need it:

And Law's reaction to their reaction:

He doesn't look very happy, of course.

People would isolate him, avoid him and *stare* disrespectfully at him like he's a weird specimen, at best. Law would quickly learn to hide it under his clothes, long sleeves, long pants, gloves etc. No one truly wants to attract negative attention like this, especially not someone who already went through a lot of traumatic experiences, like Law. And sure, as a child he didn't really hide it:

But take into account those are the clothes he was wearing ever since Flevance happened. He didn't have any other clothes. As soon as he's accepted as part of Doflamingo's family he starts to wear different ones, and he covers up the spots on his arms by wearing long sleeves:

And oh boy, I can totally relate to that.

Sure, in ideal world, no one would assume Law has a disease just because his skin is discolored. But we're not living in ideal world. Some people, just like me, have hereditary skin conditions and feel bothered by fanarts that exoticize skin disease or skin disorder. Yeah sure, why does it matter, Law is a fictional character with fictional disease, right? But vetiligo is very similar to this and is a real condition which is part of life of real people. Those aren't freckles that are just cute and make you look unique (and some people might have freckles and still hate the extra attention drawn towards it, and it's valid if they feel like that!).

Just wanted to get that off my chest. I don't need sympathy for my disease, this is not why I wrote this post. I just wish people would realize that by drawing a vitiligo Law they're toying with a lot of emotional baggage there, please treat it respectfully. Maybe one day the world will be wholesome enough to think of it as normal (normal, not fetishized, ugly, contagious or exotic!), but I assure you it still doesn't. If you think it's just a "me" thing, check out this blog: https://www.tumblr.com/vitiligo-is-not-a-trend/765530242896003072 and many other posts of theirs. Not everyone with skin conditions might react the same way, but keep in mind people with actual vitiligo and skin diseases can and often will be really sensitive about it, and for a good reason.

Yes, that being said I also think it's wholesome if Luffy accepts vitiligo spots on Law easily like it's not a big deal, especially in comparison to the rest of the world which would fear him instead. It's definitely something Luffy would do. But that's completely different from fetishizing it. Please, you're stepping on a thin line here, tumblr.

[ofdarknesseyes]

That damn kid really had no right blushing like that and making Toji feel a burst of warmth within him. He just wasn’t used to this anymore. He can’t stop thinking about the past, can’t stop the memories flooding in. The way he felt his heart soar when baby Megumi first smiled at him, first laid his head against him, first hugged him, first called out to him. He knows that the Megumi he once knew is no more, at least not really. He could maybe read Megumi a bit even now but truly he had no idea what his son even liked. Sure he remembers what he didn’t and did like back then but it's been years. Megumi has grown into his own person and been exposed, experiences so many different and new things.

Though he can’t help but grin at the fact that Megumi was still grumpy as hell. He has to stop himself from chuckling at the revelation. Only more amused at Megumi’s scandalized reaction to being called pretty. Has no one ever told him that before? He raises an eyebrow, now his grin of amusement unable to be contained.

“I can’t? Why not? Fine, handsome? Gorgeous?” “No? Okay, you’re hideous.”

He lies and rolls his eyes. Did his son truly believe he wasn’t good-looking? Perhaps it is him going through his whole teenage angst years. It’s been so long so he can’t remember what it was like for him. Then again teenage Toji had been more preoccupied with just trying to survive. Damn, he really had no fucking clue what it means to be a dad. How to act like one or say the right thing. He wonders if Gojo is any better at this? He doesn’t dwell on the matter for too much longer since he dozes off.

His senses are still apparently just as good as before because despite being asleep, he wakes when he senses Megumi by the bed. He makes a noise of acknowledgement but that's all for a moment. When Megumi doesn’t make further movement to lie down he sighs and finally turns to face him.

“I don’t bite, kid. There’s plenty of room.”

He shifts over to give him space. But then ends up slowly sitting up anyway, standing and yawning. Could he even blame Megumi for still being on edge? It wasn’t like he didn’t notice the subtle flinching anytime Toji got too close or touched him. Megumi has far from forgiven him yet, and he had no right to invade his personal space, even if Megumi was being wishy-washy with it all. Acting like he didn’t trust Toji and wanted nothing to do with him, but also not willing to let him go. Fair… Toji will roll with it.

“I’m going to shower too anyways. You can have the bed.” “Oh yeah, I got some clothes.”

He points to a bag on the table. He had bought a few spare outfits for them both, not knowing what the plan would be after this. With that Toji finally goes into the bathroom, leaving Megumi to relax in bed alone if he wants to. Unlike Megumi, Toji takes a quick shower, rinsing off and wrapping the towel around his waist. He comes out dripping wet as he looks for the new clothes he bought. He rummaged in the bag before pulling out something black and going back into the bathroom to finish drying up. When Toji reappears he is roughly drying his hair with the towel before draping it over a chair. He’s in nothing but black shorts. He grabs an extra blanket at the foot of the bed and then goes to settle in the armchair he had been lounging in earlier.

Megumi Fushiguro was fifteen years old -- on the crux of the jujutsu battle of the century (and more), finally meeting the father he assumed was long dead, and hormonal. It was a crime for anyone to be burdened with so much, experiencing so much in such a short amount of time, and a teenager trying to keep a level head through out it all was a downright sin. Even for someone as rational and solemn as Megumi, he was struggling. Bad. Satoru Gojo knew his boundaries and, of course, chose when to abide by them or break through it.

His sister was the only other person who knew how to handle him through the bad and the good. Megumi naturally thought it was all bad. He was odd and while he didn't want to change who he was, he did realize people preferred not to deal with him. He as prickly as an urchin and his father who returned from death didn't know him. He didn't know him like his benefactor and his sister knew him.

There was something painful in that of course, but more than that in made the boy flustered. His father had remained half a world away for all he knew, so WHY did he have to say such things and touch him. From head to toe the boy felt his body temperature rise several degrees as his cheeks flushed dangerously hot. A sea urchin with a nasty rash. He whipped his head away having never reacted in such a way. He didn't even blush when one of his classmates showed him an x-rated photoshoot of an idol; actually, he hadn't even blinked but he did turn away with slight disgust.

“ .... You can't say that. ”

It was his father who was bringing out new sides of Megumi by crossing lines he didn't know were in place. He was more than glad Toji had turned away because he must have looked more ridiculous than he felt. Without another word for fear of making himself look more clownish, the teenager darted for the bathroom and shut the door with perhaps more force than necessary. He gripped the counter of the sink and looked at his red face; he felt even more embarrassed. He was a boy and not pretty. Even as a boy he wasn't handsome or particularly good looking, unlike his fa--- Megumi groaned, then fearing he was too loud, pushed off the counter for the massive floor to ceiling shower.

He turned the faucet to the cold setting then rushed to strip of his clothes. Oh yeah, his father had changed him. His entire body felt hot and weird. Clothes were dropped in a messy pile once they were ripped off his body without a care for his wounds. Under the powerful but freezing spray, Megumi shivered but stuck it out. It helped soothe the worst of his abrasions and wounds but it did little to wash away his embarrassment. Toji's broad chest, the way his scar quirked, his large hands pinching his cheeks. Damn it!

He squeezed out body wash into his palm and scrubbed himself until he thought he might actually bleed. Shoving thoughts of his father away he moved onto washing his body from toe to root, then applied a mixture of shampoo and conditioner to his hair. He watched the dirt and debris wash away in ugly swirls of grey. The faucet was turned off only when the water ran clear down his body, but he was reluctant to leave. He wrapped himself in soft and fluffy hotel towels and just stared at his bruised reflection. He looked like a mess which wasn't entirely new but it was weird that it was his father.

The teenager released a deep sigh and continued to towel dry himself especially his hair, which returned more to its spiky normalcy the more he dried it. Still, some heavy spikes hung down and just for a second.. he looked like his father. It made his heart lurch. He didn't want to wear the clothes he had been sleeping in while dirty.. especially his boxers, so he hung up the towels and slipped into a complimentary robe. It was soft and smelled clean, but would it be weird? He was too into his own head. With a resigned grimace Megumi brushed his teeth, then exited the bathroom like a toddler throwing a tantrum. He sat down on the bed with his back turned to his father and..... now what? Would they just fall asleep like it was nothing? Megumi didn't say anything, just fiddled with the ties of the bathrobe.

[rhiannonsknife]

You mention vibrator play with (I think coworker!)rhiannon and oh my christ I'm such a sucker for that sort of thing- could we get an expansion on that please?? Tysm!! As per usual your writing continues to be phenomenally incredible please know that you're doing (sapphic) god's work ❤️❤️

-🔆

thank you so much 🔆 anon!! <3 nsfw content below. mdni.

now to vibrator play with (coworker!) rhiannon! there are so many different ways that this could go so let me elaborate…

coworker!rhiannon who’s also your girlfriend and who loves to watch you struggle from across the room...in the morning, while you're getting ready for work together, she’ll bring the idea up to you: you’re zipping up your pants when she wraps her arms around you from behind. rhiannon’s lips press against the back of your neck playfully but that’s not what catches your attention: what does is the cold feeling of something pressing against your bare stomach. before you can ask what it is, she already turned on the little bullet vibrator. “what do you think?” rhiannon murmurs against your skin from behind as she runs it up your body, letting you feel the vibrations on the lowest setting. she doesn’t have to explain herself; she’s brought the idea up enough times for you to understand what she’s planning.

coworker!rhiannon who stuffs it into your underwear once you’ve given her your consent and have come up with a safe word/signal in case she ever pushes you a bit too far. coworker!rhiannon who starts off tame enough. who, at first, only switches it on from her desk when you expect it: while holding eye contact beforehand or even as she’s standing right next to you. “how’s work going?” she’ll ask, and put a hand on your shoulder. yet when you’re about to answer, she flips a switch on the remote in her pocket, and allthe words you were about to say morph into a surprised gasp as you press your thighs together.

coworker!rhiannon who gets the hang of it after a while. once she’s figured out the different settings and how you react to them (which one makes you squirm the hardest in your chair or has you glancing in her direction desperately), there’s no stopping her: she’ll put on the lowest vibration during the entirety of a conference -not enough to make you cum, but just enough for you to be toeing the edge the whole time. or she’ll turn it up suddenly when you’re least expecting it; when you're about to get up for your break, forcing you to sit back down suddenly. she’ll watch you as you get closer and closer on the highest setting, white knuckle gripping the edge of your table, then turn it off at the last second...

coworker!rhiannon who catches you trying to sneak into the bathroom to get off while she’s refilling her coffee. who walks in on you attempting to touch yourself in there. who takes the vibe from you and presses it against your clit on the highest possible setting and keeps it there through multiple orgasms, until you’re shaking from overstimulation and need to hold onto her for support, biting down on your hand/her shoulder so that you won’t scream through the entire office floor.

but also…

rhiannon who ties you up on her bed (or the garage if she’s in a bit of a role-play mood…) and holds the vibrator against you until you’re a babbling mess, begging her to take it off or turn it down. if you really wanted her to stop, one use of the safe word would be enough. yet, you don’t. you want to be at her mercy, you want rhiannon to have her way with you until she decides that it’s enough.

or, alternatively: rhiannon who ties the vibe against your thigh and then leaves you there, with the toy buzzing weakly against your clit. she’ll go down into the living room to do whatever chore still needs to be done, or she will go out on one of her killing sprees. like this, she has something to look forward to when she stumbles back inside a long while later: covered in blood, she enters the house, instantly greeted by the sound of your desperate whines echoing from the bedroom…

[b0njourbeach]

NRC LGBTQIA+ HCs

Those are only my thoughts and you can agree with them but you don't have to. We are all different and have our own visions. I'm quite willing to discuss or explain my visions - If you're being polite enough, I've got no time for drama. I will use He/Him for everyone - no matter what I have as a HC - because of the canon and it might be confusing for others (I, for one, often have to take a "Wait, why she?"-moment until I realize it's a HC.)

Riddle Rosehearts

He waits for the "right woman" that would "please his mothers wish". After meeting the students in NRC, especially Cater, he is curious and questioning his previous thought about being Cis/Het. Might find interest in all pronouns. I could also see him having to be more feminine because his mother wanted a girl (which could imply him having trouble with gender as a whole).

Ace Trappola

I think it's canon that he's not too fond of romantic love, so I do believe he'd be most comfortable seeing himslf as aromantic. As for the rest: He's your average cis male teenager who makes too many dick jokes for his lack of experience (but would consider himself as allosexual). Will throw hands and sees it as an insult if you call him a girl tho.

Deuce Spade

Like Mother, like son - Both Spades are bisexual in my eyes. Deuce used to be homophobic in his delinquent times but changed for the better (and realized that he disliked the idea of gay people because they "always look so happy"). Had multiple "What if"s regarding his gender (Including asking Mama Spade to treat him like her daughter for a bit, so Deuce could get a feeling for it) but it felt too weird, so he still identifies himself with his assigned gender (male) at birth - But doesn't mind it if people use they/them for him. Would be your average nervous Teenager when it comes to showing affection in any way and will blush brightly at the topic of naughty stuff.

Trey Clover

Didn't give it much thought ("If I like a person, I like them" type of mindset but had no particular romantic feelings before) before entering NRC - Where he had his first guy crush which rocked his world a little. Constantly questioning "Am I gay, bi or pan?", but his first and only crush doesn't really help and is actually the reason for his questioning in the first place. Hasn't come out at all and doesn't plan on it because he grew up that the genders of people in a relationship doesn't matter and his parents would support him as long as he's happy. "I was born as a guy, so I'm a guy, I guess. I don't really care if you use she/her for me. It'll be just a bit confusing for me at first" type of guy. After one of the night talks with Cater, he got curious about poly-relationships.

Cater Diamond

Many thoughts on his guy, many possibilities but this one story I have planned made me like the idea of trans-male Cater a lot (Mainly He/Him but doesn't mind They/Them). Funnily enough, I can also see Cater as genderfluid slaying person - That's what I mean when I say there's a lot of potential. Has too many trust and commitment issues to think of any type of relationship but he's still a bisexual king. If I had to describe a bisexual, it would be him. Wouldn't say no to a potential poly-relationship but is also intimidated by the idea because of his mental issues. Sees a lot of benefits in poly-relationships. I wouldn't be surprised if he had hooked up with someone before. Despite it all, he flirts as if his life depends on it (Which is, at least in jp, somewhat canon).

Leona Kingscholar

"I'm a guy" ahh male (in an unbothered way, not the toxic way. He's surprised if someone asks for his pronouns but respects the person just a tiny bit more for caring enough to ask in the first place). While I do believe it is hard for him to actually love someone to begin with, I'm convinced of Omniromantic and -sexual Leona.

Ruggie Bucchi

"My gender is whatever gets the job done." Based on irl hyenas, it isn't impossible for Ruggie to not be AMAB (The genitalia of a female hyena are very similar to those of a male. It led on multiple occasions to zoos attempting to breed two male hyenas). So if a job requires him to dress in drag and dance the hoola, Ruggie will do so. In theory bisexual but is too busy for actual relationships. Would absolutely come up with the wildest neopronuns to piss off Karens though.

Jack Howl

He definitely questioned himself as a young pup, especially after meeting Vil because he thought he might have a crush on him but he was proven wrong later on. Definitely one of the few straight guys in NRC. The more genderqueer people he meets, the more worried he gets about peoples pronouns because he used to be the type to look at a person and guess based on whatever vibes they give off. Now he doesn't know which pronouns to use, so he often uses they/them unless told otherwise (Has a non-verbal pact with Deuce to let each other know what kind of pronouns people have - if the other person knows).

Azul Ashengrotto

I'm making this based on irl male octopi and their nature of dying after having sex for the first and only time: So with that in mind, I do believe that Azul wouldn't want to be sexually active at all (That and his insecuities aboout his body would probably stop him too). I definitely picture him as a helpless romantic once he does fall for a person, though (demiromantic maybe?). Definitely ne for the males, both his gender and his potential partner. He has absolutely questioned his gender and maybe even secretly owns a floor-length dress he wears in his room when his mind wanders off to question potential genders again.

Jade Leech

I will never not talk about AroAce Jade. I could write an essay about AroAce Jade but I won't. Just yes. Could potentially be bi-gender though. Likes to mess with people "You think I'm a guy? Is this not a little too narrow minded? ... What? Oh no, I'm not a woman."

Floyd Leech

Raging homosexual. His type? "If he can rock my bottom, I'm vibing", but his potential boyfriend needs to be able to keep up with his nature. Only his boyfriend sees a rare soft and sweet side from time to time, trust. (I've seen people have the HC of Floyd being a She/Her lesbian and I personally can only see it if we're talking about genderbend Floyd but I'm not here to comment on other people's HCs. I just wanted to mention my sight on genderbend Floyd too). Is a He/Him guy but wore dresses and skirts before but only very wide ones or the type that have a deep cut in it - For free legs (It's canon that he doesn't like tight clothes, so I'm working this into the HC.)

Kalim Al-Asim

"I'm a guy but I can be your big sister too, if you want to haha!" Would absolutely dress feminine if he feels like it. Likes to dance in very fancy and wide dresses and skirts because they look pretty when you do a twirl. Also very pansexual, just wants to love.

Jamil Viper

Is used to dress up feminine because Najma makes him wear her clothes sometimes, so she can see if it looks any good. Much like Ruggie, doesn't care about gender as long as it gets the job done and has been often enough addressed as a girl (Especially if the person saw Jamil only from behind) to stop caring about pronouns. Has many reasons not to want to be in a relationship but swings both ways in theory.

Vil Schoenheit

Gender? "Yes." Did you expect anything less than all genders for THE Vil Schoenheit? Come on now. Extremely demisexual and -romantic. Clothes have no gender (his canon statement, Book 5), so he has worn all types of clothes with confidence and comfort.

Rook Hunt

Lithromantic (Basically: Attraction exists until the target of your affection likes you back). Gender doesn't matter for a partner or Rook, but "it/its" pronouns are extremely interesting to the Hunter.

Epel Felmier

Homophobic, both internal and external. "I'm a man!" but in the toxic way. I see trans-male Epel HCs (and justify his dislike of "girly" things with that) a lot and I really like them as well but the idea of this toxic cis-het white guy Epel is much more entertaining to me - Let this guy be annoying for the sake of being annoying, not everything needs an emotional reason :> He's a little fruit tho even if he denies it (I mean, he's in Pomefiore for a reason /hj).

Idia Shroud

"I don't do love, I don't do sex, I don't do gender. Do not perceive me." Tbh I dont have any particular HCs for Idia, I just go with whatever I see in media, if it works out with my interpretation of Idia ofc. I don't believe that Idia would be quick to love though (especially after Eliza).

Ortho Shroud

Again, I don't have many HCs on my own but I've seen both trans-male and trans-female Ortho HCs and I like 'em both.

Malleus Draconia

Knows he needs to bring up an heir eventually but hasn't found the right person yet. Isn't exactly sure about his own sexuality but is certain he'll know once he finds "the right person". Is a little confused by "new" genders, so he just settles with the classic He/Him for himself - Tries his best to respect Neopronouns and trans folk. Will ask a lot of questions if you come out to him as anything that is not your assigned gender - Both out of curiosity and because he doesn't want to mess up. Has been raised to be supportive through Lilia.

Lilia Vanrouge

Man, Woman, prefer not to say, Other, Croissant - It's all Lilias. You're a Non-Binary person? Lilia absorbs whatever your assigned gender at birth was. You're trans? Lilia will trade your assigned gender with whatever you identify as. It's also pretty much canon that he's bisexual, so there's that - I'm pretty sure he hesitates about relationships due to his previous experiences with Meleanor and Raverne. Has definitely made out with Baul when they were younger.

Silver

When you ask Silver what he likes, he'll tell you about his sword (the object, not a naughty reference to his genitalia). If you'll correct yourself and mean as in a person, he'll tell you that he doesn't care what the gender of his opponent in a battle is - He just hopes they'll good enough to help him learn how to improve his skills. In short: His duties and interests matter to Silver much more than something like love or sexual intercourse. (Same applies if you ask about his own gender: "I'm.. a guy? But I don't see where this matters right now.")

Sebek Zigvolt

Used to be a raging homophobe until Lilia sat him down and had a looong talk with him. "I'm not queer", proceeds to explain how overrated the concept of love is and how his duties should never be interrupted by something as trivial as romantic relationships (He doesn't get that this mindset has a lot of AroAce weight in it - which means he's queer). He's overall a little confused, but he's got the spirit. Will correct people very loudly if they misgender his friends or close ones. Will also regularly ask Lilia in the morning what kind of pronoun-day is (Lilia has considered to wear different colored bracelets, so Sebek doesn't have to ask every morning.)

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

On The Hunt: Working As A Unit

Summary- 5.2k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. You and Steve are finding a new side to being around one another. Neither of you had simple downtime before, but a possible glimpse into what life could be like for you. A mission together leads you two to become a lethal team.

Warnings- Hand-on-hand combat, heated at the moment making out and touching. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- Wow it's been a while and I so appreciate everyone who has been so patient, sending supportive messages and the asks simply saying that they missed this couple. Knowing really kept me going. I know I have been vocal about how I've been struggling with writing but you all keep me going. I love it so much, even when it's hard. Thank you so much @yenzys-lucky-charm for bouncing ideas, reading the snippets I would email, and giving suggestions. You have no idea how much it means to me. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics. Happy Reading!

Chapter 9 / Masterlist

You and Steve started going on more missions together that Shuri sent along while waiting for Ulysses to return to the area. 

Sometimes it was about gathering intel on suspected smugglers, other times it was wider-spread travel, intercepting shipments leaving with hostages. All small, and easy enough for you and Steve to do together without many issues. 

Together you two started growing as a functioning team, relying on each other in ways you hadn’t before. Steve began to rely on your tracking skills, letting the Little Wolf lead the way to intercept smugglers moving small groups of shifters while your smaller stature kept you easily from sight. You in turn depended on Steve to take out threats along the way, the Alpha using speed and surprise to subdue anyone who took notice of the Little Wolf prowling. 

With T’Challa’s help, you could relocate the victims to get the help they needed and pass along information, allowing Wakanda to start mapping out trafficking routes. 

You and Steve were making a difference together. 

On the days when Shuri had no missions to send you two on and Ulysses had yet to make an appearance to the warehouse, you and Steve used this downtime to rest and prepare. Thankfully the heat passed, without you doing anything with Steve beyond sleeping in his bed with him. That simple act was enough to get you both through it. You had the Alpha’s presence in what became your nest and Steve was allowed to take care of the Omega in whichever way you needed him. 

As much as you both craved the intimacy sex would give in the moment, you knew deep down that you were still trying to heal, and be with Steve with trust in him not to abandon you or force you into a position that gave him all the power over you.

Steve kept his promise, nothing would happen between you two till you were ready. 

You learned to appreciate those days of nothing but each other's company. Typically Steve was the first to wake up and make breakfast.

Since your heat was over, you had moved back into your bedroom, without him fighting you about it. The Little Wolf had something to say, but she relented in the end. Whenever you wandered out Steve would have a plate of food ready along with coffee, and a gentle smile before you two would fall into a safe conversation, usually going over mission notes together and putting together a report to send back to T’Challa. 

Mid mornings Steve usually went for his runs while you did your workouts in the open living area, sometimes if Steve came back in time, he would follow along with you, going through the defense and attack moves that you had learned from the panthers in Wakanda. Steve also showed you other moves that he had learned in his years with the Howling Commandos, you were a quick study, and earning Steve’s praise made you feel giddy in a way that you hadn’t in a long time. 

Sweat was running down your back and face, heavily panting while Steve tossed you a water bottle while guzzling his own down, a wide proud smile flashed at you. “Y/N, do you even know how badass you are Little One?” He gave you a slight nudge when you turned a bit shy, rolling your eyes at him while taking some deep swallows from the bottle to keep from saying anything. “I mean it, if you ever wanted to, I’m sure Natasha would train you in her skillset.” 

You paused, your heart aching at his words like he genuinely believed you would one day return to his home, regardless of the status of you two. But you partially felt responsible that the pack didn’t have their Alpha, and part of you wondered how many of the wolves felt that you were to blame for his disappearance. Steve frowned seeing you shut down in front of him, your face turning away and your lips pulling tight as your inner thoughts spun, the Little Wolf growing agitated in your mind. Impulsive his fingers gripped your chin, making you face him with a questioning look. “Little One, where are you?” When your eyes snapped back into the moment, he let his hand drop. 

“Steve, I don’t know if going back is an option for me. That’s your home, your family. Me being there…” You broke off, not wanting to voice those dark little thoughts. 

Steve’s brow came together as he pieced together what you were not saying. “Y/N, you are a member of the pack, you became one the moment I invited you to stay before we were even together.” 

That’s always going to be our home Y/N. Your Little Wolf chimed in with a swish of her tail.  

“Our pack is found family.” Steve continued. “Bucky and I were born into it, but Sam and Sara came when they needed a place outside of the chaos of Shield. Natasha’s home pack was destroyed to recruit the pups, training them into assassins. When she broke free of them, she went to Nick Fury to deliver the organization’s crimes and he sent us in to dismantle the organization. She came back with me. Pietro and Wanda landed in Tony’s pack for a short time and went between us when they needed a break from the city. Clint came with his human wife needing to give her space from living in a pack but still be close enough for his wolf to find peace and have safety for his family.” Steve pieced together different members' stories, trying to convince you that you belonged there just as any of the others did. “It doesn't matter if we’re mated or not Y/N, they are your family and will tell you the same thing I did. You came when you needed a home and it will remain your home. Regardless of our history, I would never ask you to leave your family.” 

Now that was something you never considered, but the idea of it settled. You and Steve had already come so far with each other since he first left, would you be able to stay even just as friends? The Little Wolf settled back down once your line of thinking shifted. 

The evenings were when you two finally relaxed, crashing on the couch with the apartment TV. playing a movie that one of you picked out. You would curl up in the corner of the couch, eyes glued to the movie Steve had picked that night. 

This wasn’t something you had done before, not like this. Living with Pierce pack, there wasn’t entertainment allowed to the shifters for sale, you were just kept locked away with the necessities and each other to keep company, and living with Steve, you two would occasionally settle into watching some TV show, but most of the time you two or the wolves were exploring, Steve giving you a glimpse of life like you've never experienced before. But that wasn’t the case anymore and you found a deep love of movies. 

So night after night, you would make some snacks that you found in the store around the corner of the block, Steve would scan for iconic movies you absolutely must see, according to him. 

You got to also see a side of Steve you hadn’t seen before. A completely relaxed man, tossing popcorn into the air to catch you two turning it into a game, soon there was popcorn scattered all across the living room as the two of you started trying to toss it across the couch into one another's mouth. 

His face would scrunch up when you bounced the buttery pieces off his forehead or cheeks, making him chuck his pieces right back at you, making you smile in victory. “For being the big bad wolf Steve, you can’t catch worth shit.” You teased from across the couch, tossing up a piece to catch on your own. 

Steve brushed the loose popcorn on the floor and prepared to clean it up the next day. “I’m better at taking bites, not playing catch.” His teeth snapped in your direction and the two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, tears streaming down your face as your giggles turn to hiccups. 

The Alpha is smug in Steve’s mind, knowing he made you laugh like that. 

Slowly movie night worked its magic, before either of you knew it, you two were cuddled up together on the couch, sharing bowls of snacks between you and the two of you debating the quality of the storyline and characters. Steve started getting a feel for what he thought you liked and proposed your first movie marathon. 

You lasted halfway through the eleven-hour Lord of the Rings marathon. You tried but somewhere in the middle of the second movie your head dipped down onto Steve’s shoulder and your breathing leveled out into the tone of sleep. 

<Look at that Steve, put her right to sleep.> The Alpha snickered in Steve’s mind, prowling restlessly in missing the bond. Steve barely moved as he eased the blanket off the back of the couch, letting it drape over your curled-up form, and you cuddled up closer to him, rubbing your face into the crook of his neck. 

Steve stiffened, this was the first time you’d touched him since your heat and he didn’t want to push past boundaries. 

<You relaxing with her isn’t gonna undo everything you two have accomplished so far.> 

Steve let the Alpha’s common sense settle, letting himself loosen, sinking in a bit against you and enjoying your warmth pressing into him. His focus turned back to the movie while his arm rested over your shoulders. 

When you woke up the next morning, you were still on the couch, your head pillowed and covered in a soft blanket that smelled like Steve. You tugged it around you tighter, sleepily smiling as you buried your face into the soft fabric and inhaled. Your Little Wolf was so content in your mind. You felt safe here, with Steve in this little apartment and it hit you that you hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Even when you were back in Wakanda, you constantly felt the need to watch your back. Now with Steve, you could relax and put all your energy into the mission. 

Adrenaline rushed through your veins, everything was in hyper-focus. Your Little Wolf paced, wanting to hunt down her prey. 

She practically salivated at the thought of opening her maw wide and sinking her fangs into these bastard's flesh, ripping them apart piece by piece.  

You let that rush feed your senses, making everything sharper. 

The crowd of handlers was rough with the shifters they were smuggling, all of them enclosed in collars. The Little Wolf’s snarls filled your mind at the sight. Your eyes narrowed on them, these were not panthers like you were expecting. 

Shuri had sent coordinates for a pack of wolves. You whispered, enough for Steve to hear you in the comm in your ear. “Where do you think they are from?” 

The Alpha was out of sight looking for the best vantage point of attacking the smugglers while keeping the prisoners safe. “I don’t know Little One. I don’t recognize any of them. They could be from home… we knocked out a large portion of it when we took out Brock, but it's hard knowing how far Hydra has spread.” 

“Are we able to get them out?” You asked as you started taking a quick count of how many there were.

“Their collars are not like mine,” Steve observed, making you take note of the leather strap enclosed around their necks. “I think that it's merely preventing them from shifting, they are fighting against the bonds, so they have free will.” 

Indeed you saw several snarl at the armed individuals forcing them from the warehouse, marching them across a shipping yard towards a large cargo ship. “That’s good.” 

“They won’t be fighting against us, if my theory is correct.” 

“Alright Captain, what’s the plan here?” 

“Cute Little One.” You heard him snort a bit, making your Little Wolf huff in amusement. “Get your ass onto that cargo ship unseen. If you can make your way to holding, do it.” 

You started working your way closer, using cargo containers to shield you from the scattering of guards on the perimeter. “And then what?” 

“Work your way inside, take out whoever you have to. There should be minimal security below deck.” 

“What are you going to do?” You paused at the ship's edge, scanning it for a way to get onboard. Nearby you could hear voices, but still seemed far enough away that you didn't duck back into hiding. Not yet anyway. 

“Work my way through the above deck crew.” You heard a swoosh through the comm, sure it was the shield T’Challa had made for him. You tapped your bracelet, feeling the metal lightly sweep over your chest and across your back, covering your most vulnerable spots. 

You kept searching for a spot to climb onto the towering cargo ship.“You got this Little One?” 

Your Little Wolf tensed, ready for you to take that leap. “Got this Alpha, see you up there.” 

“I will make a distraction for you and draw their attention so you can slip inside.” 

You prepared yourself for Steve’s distraction, sprinting to the walkway leading up to the ship's dock. It wasn’t long till you heard shouts of alarm and shots. 

“You better be okay Steve!” You harshly whispered into your comm as you took the opening. 

“Worried about me, Little One?” You heard in return, a hint of teasing in his tone while his comm crackled with background noise. 

“Just not in the mood to come save your ass.” You sass back, letting your senses wander. The ship shuddered beneath your feet, signaling that it was getting ready to ship off. Noticing a door that led into the ship, you sprinted for it. Skidding to the metal door, you eased inside. 

“Stay safe Little One.” Steve’s voice filled your head just as you ran into someone patrolling. His eyes widened when he saw you, raising his weapon in preparation to shoot you. 

It was automatic, your leg swung out to kick the barrel away and you pushed forward, your hand lashing out to cuff the man's face. The butt of the gun swung into your shoulder, knocking you off kilter. 

“We got a brea-” The guard started into his comm system. With a snarl, you tackled him, grabbing at his ear and ripping at the device to keep him from continuing his alert. The gun went skidding out of reach, but he hit you to stop your attack, whiplashing your face till blood burst from your mouth from a busted lip and making your head ring at how hard he had hit you. “Bitch!” His foot planted against you, shooting you off of him to sail over his head. You crashed against the floor, skidding across the metal. 

Your body twisted away from him. <Weapon!> Your Little Wolf alerted you and you snatched it to pull towards you when he came crashing back on you, the air crushed from your body. It was worth it though, getting him that close as you were able to swing the gun, cracking it aside his head. 

The guard's eyes rolled back at the sudden hit and he collapsed over you. “Fuck” You muttered, wriggling till you were able to pull out from underneath him. Shouldering the rifle, you also shoved his comm in your ear to listen in on the others. You pulled at him to drag him into a nearby room and slammed the door shut, twisting the handle enough to break it, preventing it from opening. 

In the comm, you could hear shouts of alarm, that someone was wreaking havoc on the top deck. 

<Steve is giving us our chance to secure the hostages.>

With a sprint, you started racing towards the stairs and swinging over the banister to drop several levels quickly, bypassing as much as you could. And we're gonna make every second count. 

“WHOA!” Someone shouted from the stairwell, making you glance up to see a couple of faces looking down at you. They didn’t give another warning, their weapons shoved over the railing and shot down at you. You ducked the bouncing bullets as best you could, dodging out of the stairwell back into a hallway. Thumps from the stairwell let you know they weren’t far behind.

Securing yourself around a corner, you dropped to your knees, rifle aimed down the hallway, ready for the attack. 

The Little Wolf honed in on the sound of footsteps, under your breath, you started counting the seconds to yourself, your breathing going calm. Once that door slammed open, your finger pressed down on the trigger. 

The shield Steve was given repelled the bullets, his arm shooting up to block himself while using the shield as a ram, rushing against the crew while bullets rained on him. The pinging was ear-splitting but they bounced off, resulting in hitting quite a few of the people attacking him. 

It had gone far better than he expected. The scattering of bullets dropping men in his path, then a few well-placed hits between his fist and the shield kept the momentum. 

<BEHIND YOU!> Came a sharp snarl and Steve twisted enough to miss the dagger in his back, catching him on the side of his neck instead. 

Pain made him bare his teeth with a snarl, turning to his foe. 

“Last one I expected to see.” Came the man's sharp reply, his blade swinging in his hand till his hand gripped the handle, prepared to slash at Steve should he come close enough. “Better prepared though than when Brock took you. Where’s your little bitch this time?” His smirk was cold as he continued his taunts. "Figures you would be too weak to snap her neck."

Steve let his words slide away, eyeing the man. <Provoke him into an attack.> His Alpha circled slowly, a predator on his hunt. 

Steve sensed the change in the air, the confidence in his opponent growing that he was able to push the Alpha into dropping his protection. It gave him the guts to charge Steve, his knife ready to sink into him. 

Last second Steve swung his arm up, the vibranium swiftly blocking the attack and cutting the blade off at the handle. With his hand, he grasped the sheared knife blade falling and flicked his hand into the man's gut, sinking the metal into him. 

Blood spurted out of his mouth, his eyes wide in surprise as Steve snarled in his face. “You were not much of a threat, were you?” The man dropped, Steve clenched his cut hand, trying to stop the bleeding grabbing the bare knife had caused. “Y/N… location?” He said out loud, holding his breath still to quiet himself, letting the comm have all his focus. 

It was quiet for a few moments, making the Alpha in him grow agitated. <Call again> 

Give her a chance. Steve waited for it, anything from you when your voice cut through the silence he willed on himself.

“I’m below… port side. I still haven't found where they are keeping them.” Your aggravated voice came through. “Shit-” Your voice suddenly cuts out, making Steve cry out. 

“Y/N?” He bolted, shoving himself into an open door, and racing down the stairs, he started passing others that you had already taken out. Steve headed towards the left, darting down halls and crashing through doors, essentially following your trail. 

Your scent was getting stronger and soon he heard loud thumps and grunts. The Alpha snarled as fear tainted Steve, all his senses growing sharper trying to get to you. 

Sprinting down the hall and locating where the sounds of fighting were coming from, he busted into a steel door, making it snap open to find you with your thighs wrapped around a man's head, your hands gripping at him and yanking his head back, your teeth bared with the effort while the man struggled to get free. 

It made Steve pause a second, processing that he was watching you about to snap a man's neck. And with a yank, the body fell limp and you untangled yourself. “Fuck…” He muttered, making your gaze snap to his, heated between the two of you. 

For half a second, before your eyes widened in alarm. “Behind you!” Steve whipped around to throw his shield up, the ping of bullets bouncing off them. A kick was aimed at his uncovered legs, making him grunt in surprise as he stumbled back, making you yelp in alarm.

<SHIFT!>  

You started wiggling yourself free from under the body, your Little Wolf urging you to shift cause she could move faster than you could. But it wasn’t necessary, the next moment a hand shot at you, Steve taking hold of your hand and pulling you to your feet. 

“Are you hurt?” You both asked each other at once, both of you panting from exertion and adrenaline racing, your hands pawed at one another, trying to check each other out when you took an exhale of relief. 

He was fine. 

“Little One,” Steve growled, staring down at you with a wild look, betraying everything he was feeling in that gaze. The glazed look of adrenaline-rushed fear and relief, as well as the lust simmering for you, the need to be able to reach out and take you. 

And you so desperately wanted it, your heart racing and the whole mission catching up to you, you pulled in closer, grasping at him to lift yourself to crash your mouth into his with a possessive growl. 

One that Steve equally matched with force, the air stolen from you as he hauled you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and arching into him as you pushed your fingers into his hair to grasp on, tilting your head to get closer inside of him, your tongue plunging past sharp bites and snarls. 

Your back slammed into the ship's steel wall, effectively pinning you against his hardened body and it drove you feral feeling your mate so hard between your thighs, your hips rocking into him for the friction, your suit rubbing you in a teasing way, but you wanted to rip it off, everything between you. 

You wanted to feel his heat pour into you, his body smothering yours till you couldn’t get free, not ever again. You wanted to be claimed inside and out, made to be all his. 

More than being in heat could ever burn you. This wasn’t just a need to fuck each other. 

“You gotta- you gotta make me stop.” He hissed against your mouth, his eyes screwing shut like he was trying to control himself and you gave a sharp tug on his hair, pulling his mouth open in a gasp so you could claim again. “We can’t right-” 

You cut him off before even letting him finish. “Don’t you fucking dare Steve, not this time. You can’t take my choice from me.” You studied his eyes when they sprang back open, searching for your consent. “I want this, this is me telling you yes.” You tilted to his neck, nipping along the column to make him shudder, his head tilting back to give you all the room to use your mouth on him. You felt your Little Wolf tense, almost like she was holding her breath, waiting to see what Steve would choose. “The question is, do you want us? As messy and complicated we might be?” You felt him pull away, letting your feet settle back onto the floor, the ships wall no longer at your back. The space in between the two of you felt miles wide, making your Little Wolf curl on herself. 

Would he believe you were ready or would he pull away convincing himself that he wasn’t good enough for you? Steve eased you back from him, making sure you were looking right in his eyes, seeing the truth for yourself. “Before I even knew who you were, Little One, I looked for you. I will always want this life with you.” 

So easily were the roles reversed, Steve grasping the front of your neck to drag you in against him, closing whatever distance there was between you two. Your body so easily fit against his, all your senses coming alive feeling him hard against you while blue eyes searched yours, silently pleading for this moment to be true. 

All you could do was share another look back, reassurance, desire, hunger, and love. Words couldn't come close to what you needed to say to him, even if you could talk right now. But it was enough for Steve, for he claimed your mouth with his, taking away every rational thought. 

Your Little Wolf started her mates' song while Steve practically took all the air from your lungs. You clutched at him till he maneuvered you back into a wall, bouncing against the ship's metal with a whimper from you. 

It was enough to make him pull back, concern flashing across his features for a second but you yanked him back, clutching your hands into his suit and urging him with your kiss. You bit onto his lip, tugging. You wanted all of him, all that time spent apart made you feel almost frantic to reclaim some of what was lost. 

Steve growled against your mouth, your taste sending him right back to that first mating, how he couldn't get you out of his head, his Alpha driven mad to have you as his. His hand at your throat softened, slid up to cup your face, and then back to the base of your neck, digging his fingers into your hair and clutching, easing you back till your head tilted back. 

Panting as you stared up at him, you tilted your head back even further to let your throat flash, his gaze dropping to the column that bared his old bonding mark. It made his eyes flash almost possessively while he dropped his head and nipped along your neck, but never made that bonding claim even though he scrapped his teeth against it, making your body tighten, your thighs clenching as heat rushed through your core. His hand not holding your head still skimmed down your body, taking his time even though his kisses were urgent. “I never told you enough how perfect you are Little One. The only one I could ever belong to.” He breathed against you, his nose buried in against the racing pulse in your neck, drawing you in. 

Your touch was all over, recommitting the feeling of your Alpha against you. Your hands tried to work the fabric looser so you could get to his skin, but your hands were captured, stretching above your head to keep you pinned in place. “Please, Steve.” Your body arched, anything now to have him touch you, your Little Wolf was driving you mad with her song. She craved her Alpha, just as badly as you did.  

“I know Little Wild One, my Omega.” Steve nipped at your mouth, drawing you into another kiss that was deeper and more wild than the last one at first, slowing down into one of worship from him. His hand slipped between your thighs, gliding up to your center where you arched your hips into his touch. 

And this time being touched felt right. His hand cupped your heat, fingers pressing right against your sensitive spot and setting off your bundle of nerves till you were whimpering against his mouth. “Inside me Steve, I need you, not your fingers.” 

His jaw clenched at your words, the muscle fluttering with restraint. “We can’t do this...” His nostrils flared and he started cursing in his growls, catching your arousal and making his pupils dilate sharply on you. 

Your heart started to break at his words, a pained growl rising from you as you tried pulling from his hold but his hand on your wrists tightened and your teeth bared as you tilted your head, lust and anger taking over your features suddenly. 

His fingers never slowed down still bringing you higher, all your nerves firing pleasure through your body till it shook. “You cut me off earlier Little One. We can’t right now because it’s not safe.” His mouth nipped yours, risking the possibility of you biting back. His mouth dipped to your ear, growling against it. “Once I’m so deep inside you, knotting you to me, I am not going to be able to stop, not till you’re begging me for relief and then I still might not be able to. Be my good Omega because right now it's too dangerous for me to make up for all my mistakes while I am worshiping your body. Let me get you back to your nest.” His hand slipped into the band of your pants until he could feel just how warm you were, his touch expertly finding that bundle of swollen nerves and dragging calloused fingertips around it, circling and applying more pressure. Every little pleasurable nerve raced through your system. The touch of leather of his fingerless gloves made you whimper, arching your hips into his touch, letting yourself go finally. 

Your face buried in against him, still riding his hand for that relief. The spiral was building faster. Steve lifted your head from his chest, pressing his forehead to yours. “Come for me Little One.” He nipped his command on your mouth, pulling your whimpers and moans into him, all those pleasured sounds till you gasped, your gaze losing focus as you sank in against him. He let your wrists go, falling heavily onto his shoulders and he steadied you with murmured praises. “I promise Little One, I got you, I’m not letting you go.” 

Steve buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent deeply. Feeling his mate so close calmed his Alpha from fighting him too much. Your scent was warmth wrapping around him, that you were satisfied and taken care of, enabling the Alpha in his mind to settle knowing that you were safe with him. Warmth curled through him feeling you hide against him, his arms wrapping you closer so you felt safe in this moment. If he had it his way, you would be back at the apartment, treating you properly. The way an Alpha took care of his mate. His mouth pressed against the top of your head, pressing gentle assuring kisses to the crown.

If Steve could have, he would have stayed like that forever, let time stand still cause this was everything he let go of and somehow was given a second chance. You shifted in closer, molding your body to his own while you buried your face in closer, pressing your lips to his collarbone before pulling back to look up at him. “You meant it, all of it?” 

Steve let his gloved hands cup your face, leaning his forehead against yours. “All of it. I know I made a mistake letting you go and I shouldn’t have let my fear win over my common sense.” He swallowed hard, as if he wasn’t sure what to expect but was preparing himself. 

“Come on Alpha, we still have others to save.” You leaned up to press an assuring kiss to him before he let you go, the two of you now racing to find the hostages together, a team.

[intramoon]

Nes + Erin: partners in crime & platonic soulmates & always dressed coded (+ Erin all grown-up. ;-;)

[mastersoftheair]

Sorry but am I the only one that thought that episode…sucked? Like it was straight up bad. Horrible pacing, no wrap up of all the random characters and plot lines they’ve thrown around all season (the tuskegee airmen, Westgates spying, literally all the guys beside like the main 4). (Seriously it makes me so mad that the three redtails got all of 5 seconds of screen time, almost no lines. Literally what was the point of introducing them other than to pretend the show was iNcLuSiVe) Even at the end of BoB and the Pacific you get a much better idea of what happened to all the remaining guys. In this they’re like what happened to DeMarco or Hambone or Brady or (insert character here) we don’t know! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ The concentration camp scene felt shoehorned in compared to how it was done in BoB. Unless that actually happened to Rosie (which i haven’t heard anything about) but it was just like.. ok? It all felt so rushed and emotionless to me. Maybe I’ve just fallen out of love with MoTA but it’s been downhill for me since episode 6 or so.

i already made a little (read: long) post-finale write-up here, where i talk about the use of the tuskegee airmen, l'sandra, and overall editing/pacing issues i felt the show had. but i don't agree with the notion that adding the redtails was in any way insincere or trying to halfass being "iNcLuSiVe", i just think they suffer from this show's obvious time constraints. and to summarize what i wrote in my linked post, there's a limit to what white writers/directors/producers can do when creating a story about black people. there are some stories i'd feel uncomfortable with them telling on their own, truth be told. dee rees wasn't the sole nonwhite director, but she Was the only black one. i think she did her job well given the limitations and i appreciate that they let her direct those episodes, rather than leaving it up to a team of white people trying their best to tell a black story.

the worst i can say about the finale is that it didn't feel like That strong of finale, tho i wouldn't go as far to say it "sucked" or call it "straight up bad". i liked it plenty, it's just the weakest of the hbo war finales imo.

as for the concentration camp scene, artistic license was taken with both shows. unlike what's seen in the BoB, easy company wasn't the first to arrive at kaufering, and there's 0 mention of the all-japanese american 552nd who helped them liberate it). similarly, rosie rosenthal did assist in liberating those camps, though it would've been after the events shown this episode. idk if he saw one in that up-close way seen in this episode, but he could've (i should research this when i have time). plus, it would've felt weird Not having him acknowledge them at all. "shoe-horned" is an odd term to use here imo, as both scenes more-or-less center a jewish character (BoB's liebgott and MotA's rosie). the former show has survivors the characters can help, the latter shows no one left to help. the former has all of easy company there, the latter has rosie there all alone. rosie's scene felt deeply personal in that way. at the end of the day, both scenes are communicating different things. that doesn't make one better than the other when they aren't trying to be identical. (disclaimer, i'm not jewish, so i'd be interesting hearing from the perspective of someone who wrt whether or not they felt it was "shoe-horned")

i can understand if you've disliked the show post-episode 6 (and episode 6 was a very strong episode i'm ngl). eps 7 and 8 were weaker in many ways, even to me, so i get it. everyone's entitled to their own opinion (i'd be a hypocrite saying otherwise). just understand that this blog is run by someone who overall enjoys this show despite its flaws! basically, i encourage you to take this energy and make your own posts.

[bikananjarrus]

i need the fic writing energy i had when i was 18 back

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[moodr1ng]

hmm after putting a couple scenes from my script into renpy with some photos as background stand-ins + the need for some cgs here and there, i def think it could work as a vn.. i think ill finish my script before i start more seriously working on it just to be sure everything would work as i want, but i think actually if i include a little bit of narration here and there (theres technically narration in my script, though its meant to describe the panels and not to actually be narration, but some v light narration in a vn could work) itd be pretty solid i think 🤔 and itd allow me to include even more dialogue LOL which ive been making efforts to reduce but i definitely could stand to put in more. both carié isle and linnion/kèravie as a whole have a tonnn of worldbuilding where i kinda had to reduce exposition to a minimum for a comic medium. but in a vn the characters could do a lot more talking about this stuff. also i had decided to make the comic black & white bc full color is too hard for a comic for me but for a vn i would get to make it full color :)

[deoidesign]

A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)

Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!

This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.

This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions in your writing, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!

This is NOT a medical resource!!! And never tell a real person you think they're using a cane wrong!

The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!

A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.

Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height can make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)

(some people elect to use a cane wrong for their personal situation despite this, everyone is different!)

(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)

When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane and the bad leg and follow with the good leg!

Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.

In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.

Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!

(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)

The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!

Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.

The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!

This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!

However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.

Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)

Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.

Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)

(my canes, for reference)

If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!

When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!

For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.

When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)

When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)

That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!

Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!