#but still be worth loving and being friends with

[blocked-zombieartist]

As someone who adored wrapping gifts up, the first one is absolute sacrilege.

Wrapping is probably my favorite pre-Christmas activity. Firstly, because my mother, who was also my best friend, let me be involved in wrapping presents from a young age. Did I slow it down and make the process harder when I was little? Absolutely. Yet she still involved me and taught me with utmost love and patience. Some of my fondest memories are wrapping gifts with her.

Secondly, it’s my favorite because it’s so fun. Getting to fawn over, “Oh, this person is going to absolutely adore this gift!” and lovingly wrapping it up in a box or a bag or just the paper itself. Finding paper that will look lovely, finding a bow that coordinates just right. Getting to present the recipient with a prettily wrapped gift. Pouring so much love into a gift that’s already full of love, it’s the icing on the cake of love of the gift.

I get sad when I reach the end of a roll of wrapping paper that’s been being used in our family for several Christmases, getting to recall the previous years as I wrap one last present in it. Maybe it’s just a silly Paw Patrol wrapping paper to you, but to me, it’s a pattern from some of my younger siblings earliest Christmases. Maybe it’s just a silly used Christmas bag to you, but to me I see a lovely little bag that’s held many gifts; one from my mother to me, one from me to my sister, one from my mom to her best friend- and then from that bsf back to my mom.

Wrapping isn’t a chore in my house; it’s a tradition. One of love and happy giggles. I think that’s worth supporting the “gift wrap industry”.

TL;DR: I love wrapping and it’s something full of love and memories so yeah

[dahlibae]

MOMMYS SMART GIRL.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary | you finally graduated, finally a real adult, but you’ll always be wanda’s little girl.

warning(s) — blurb: age gap couple, smut, fingering(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving), tribbing, overstimulation, nipple suckling, mommy wanda, reader experience lil sub drop, aftercare! (18+)

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“You’re such a pretty little baby.” Wanda praised, her fingers sinking deep inside you as your body rocked back and forth against the soft sheets below.

Today had been a very special day for you both. You had finally graduated college, a milestone that had felt so far away when you first walked onto campus, uncertain of what the future would hold. But here you were, already stepping into the next chapter with a corporate job lined up in the city. You couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment, of all the hard work that had led you to this moment.

But as much as this day was about you, it was also about Wanda. She had been your constant, your anchor, since freshman year. When you met, neither of you could have known the journey you’d embark on together. From late-night study sessions in her home office to early morning coffee runs, she had been by your side. She'd supported you through every breakdown, every tear-streaked face as you questioned your worth, your place in the world. And somehow, she always knew exactly what to say to pull you back from the edge.

Through every stressful exam, every late-night cram session, she had been there, not just as a girlfriend, but as your best friend. She knew your weaknesses and loved you anyway. She was your strength when you felt weak and your safe space when the world outside felt too big and too overwhelming. You could still remember the way she held you the night before your biggest presentation, whispering sweetest words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.

She always believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.

“Such a smart girl. Been so good all year, haven’t you? I’m so proud of you.” She cooed, as she curled her fingers, expertly brushing your walls with a soft pressure she knew you loved. “But you don’t have to use your brain now, okay? Let Mommy take care of you.”

“Mhmm.” You managed to reply, your mind immediately emptied from her soothing words.

“Good girl.” She emphasised with one last kiss to your lips, before trailing down your body to your hips. There, she gently nipped your protruding bones before making her way to your thighs, biting and licking her way up to between your legs. She leaned down; a long, slow lick up your slit, her tongue pushed flat against your clit, as she circled your bundle of nerves.

The added stimulation was almost too much. Your head became even more fuzzy as you whined and twisted in each direction. Unsure of whether you wanted to escape her touch or draw her in closer. You reached down and grabbed her blonde curls, deciding you needed her closer, needed to finish, as you rocked your hips in into her mouth.

It took Wanda all but 3 seconds to recognise your slight tug and she released your clit, climbing back up your body, “What is it, baby? You don’t wanna cum?”

You replied, “Yes, Mommy. Just want you close.”

She should’ve known, whenever you were so deep in this headspace, you had always wanted to feel Wanda close. Restraints hadn’t worked out for you both the first time, leaving you vigorously upset being denied the chance to feel her close as you came.

She hadn’t moved quick enough and you started to whine before she cut you off, “Okay, baby. I’m right here.” She pressed herself over you, before deciding she wanted to come aswell. She moved your legs into position, spread far apart for her body to fit between, before pressing herself down against you. She tested the new position with a few rocks of her hips that had you head thrown back, mewling abashedly into her hair.

“Oh, does that feel good, baby?”

Your response was another moan.

She rocked her hips harder, feeling herself build at the feeling of your clit brushing against hers. The sight of your breasts bouncing as she thrusted into you turned her on even more, her arousal building dangerously fast. She knew she couldn’t be too hard—too rough— with you right now. And so, she slowed, and held you in her arms, tucking her head into your neck as she whispered sweet nothings, “You’re gonna make me cum. You feel so good, baby. You wanna cum with Mommy?”

She felt your hip snap up to hers, chasing the feeling as you began to fall over the edge, and she revelled in the way you curled into her form. She pulled back for a second just enough to be able to fit her hand between as she pressed hard circles against your clit, drawing out your orgasm enough until the pleasure became painful. Your body trembled as you sobbed carelessly into her curls. She was on you again, thrusting fast against your pussy. Her arousal now at its peak, and she too fell over the edge. Her own moans released into your curls.

Her movement slowed but didn’t stop and the overstimulation caused you to cry out. She shushed you gently, stroking your cheek gently as she got off of you, and pulled you into her chest. “Good girl. You did so well, my love.”

You fisted at your eyes, the warm tears burning against your skin.

“You know Mommy loves you, right?” She pulled you closer in, her bare breast flush against your cheek as she offered you one to suckle on, while her fingers wiping the remnants of your tears before pressing light kisses to your face.

You hummed in agreement. Your brain still unable to form proper words and also your mouth now busy attached to her nipple. But your eyes fluttered shut, suddenly not feeling so intense and emotional anymore. The calm buzz that usually followed after sex with Wanda finally set in.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

[mejaemin]

nonchalant- jeon wonwoo

wc: 0.9k

summary: clingy wonu /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

warnings: streamer!wonu, writer!reader, fluff, not proofread !!!

an: i can think of so many ways to make a pt.2 to this… will i? nope!

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the letters on your laptop’s keyboard are surely to start fading any time soon, but it’s worth it. especially right now. there’s yet to be a single time where you’ve felt this much inspiration in your entire career, so you refuse to let this go to waste. your eyes flicker to the notebook sitting next to you, information on the paper translating in your mind and being typed out into coherent sentences on the document.

you’re really proud of what you’ve written so far. you had your boyfriend read your unorganized thoughts you had set out for the plot and what not, and he thinks it’s good too. once your brain felt ready to start writing the real thing, your fingers were flying. you slipped your headphones on, essentially blocking out the entire world as you worked. you started when it was still light out, and you’ve only gotten up to use the bathroom, really. it’s dark now, and although he’s not working quite as hard, you can still sense your boyfriend moving around the house, making commentary as he pre records gaming content.

he’s left you alone so far. he’s not the type to nag you too much about taking care of yourself, especially when he’s already learnt his lesson about interrupting you when you have one of these moments of inspiration. not to mention he has times like this too, even if it was for something like a long term livestream. still, he treats you how he would want to be treated in the same situation. by that he means undisturbed… with the occasional interruption, of course. he likes to have his game time but if he isn’t filming he still wants to be with you.

your phone is on do not disturb, keeping wonwoo’s obnoxious friends and their instagram reel notifications from disturbing your work, so when a message notification dings through your headphones you know who it is.

won🖤: Are you almost done yet?

won🖤: I’ve finished recording.

you: no, sorry love :( i still have some left in me.

you: just a little more, okay?

won🖤: Just a little more. I try not to be that guy, but you really should stop soon. Eat something

you reacted with 👍

setting your phone down, you crack your knuckles with a sigh. you were reaching the end of your inspiration spark, so you really wanted to rush to get whatever you could in. it’s extremely rare that this happens, and you couldn’t stress it enough. you’ve got deadlines to meet, and for this to happen to you was literally perfect. you’re basically set, and might even be able to take a day off tomorrow.

you’ve gotten back onto your groove, putting the music on high while you work. you’re typing word after word, paragraph after paragraph flawlessly. everything you’ve been mapping out for weeks is finally coming to fruition, and it’s doing so perfectly. you’re so zoned in that you don’t notice when wonwoo comes in, only taking note of his presence when the weight shifts on the bed and his head lands on your shoulder.

you pause, pulling the headphones off your head. “do you need something?” you ask, hand instinctively coming to brush through his hair.

he looks up at you, and you’re sure he doesn’t notice the way he’s pouting. it’s rare that he’d be like that voluntarily. “how far are you? you’re almost done?”

“mm, i don’t think so.. sorry. i really need to make the most of this or else i’ll never get this finished.” you kiss the top of his head, and as soon as you put your hand back towards the keyboard he grabs it.

“you’ve been sitting here all day.”

“yeah, i noticed. but i’ll do just a little more, ‘kay?” you kiss his crown and return to work.

you finish the second to last plot point you had mapped out, and now you’re just revising what you done so far. even by your own standards you’ve done enough, and since wonwoo is indirectly begging you to spend time with him (in his own way) by clinging to your side, you suppose you can stop for now. it hasn’t even been that long and you can see him looking from his phone to you every three seconds. it’s cute really, how he’s trying so hard to be nonchalant about it when he wants to spend time with you so bad. every time he wants your attention, he sort of hovers around you and stares at you until you give it to him. he’ll never say it out loud, but he’s definitely going to be obvious about it in other ways.

you shut your computer and set it on the night stand, turning towards him fully. the corners of wonwoo’s mouth twitch as he tried to hold back his smile, but you know he’s happy that he’s won.

“you’re done now? are you gonna go back to work, or are you really done?” he asks, sitting up and readjusting his glasses.

you giggle at his cuteness, kissing his cheek. “yes, nonu. you’ve got my full, undivided attention now, ‘kay?”

he’s already up before you are, rambling about how excited he is to spend the rest of the night with you, even if it’s already late. he’s walking into the kitchen to make ramen for you, talking about eating it together while watching something, and then stopping to ponder about what to do after. you trail behind him, a smile on your face. your nonchalant, black cat boyfriend who uses very few words will throw it all out the window if it means getting your attention and keeping it for a good moment.

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[esouliie]

COME FIND ME, MY LIGHT.

(natasha romanoff x reader)

summary | What began as an attempt to bring Christmas back to Natasha turned into something deeper as both of you realised that love is what truly warms the heart this season. By Christmas Eve, Natasha wasn’t just in love with the holiday again: she was in love with you, and maybe- just maybe- you had been in love with her all along too.

tags | christmas fic! hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, dead family trope, alternative universe so no avengers, you’re both a bit sad! :/

notes | i want a christmas love like this so what better way to manifest than by writing a fic abt it hehe. this was also inspired by my fav person’s return to tumblr and her love for the holiday - @please-destroy, thank you for inspiring this by just being you! this is also a part of your gift, surprise!! everybody, go read her stuff now. it’s truly amazing!

word count | 5K

Merry Christmas!! ⊹♡

Since the moment you met, you knew Natasha carried a storm inside her. It was always tamed, hiding just beneath the surface of her eyes. But, from a year of friendship, you’ve noticed that storm that seemed to erupt around this time of the year. Being your only friend, she was always the one to accompany you on your trips out around the city. It’s there where you noticed the way she flinched at carols and avoided the cheerful chaos of Christmas markets you brought her too, by moving through it as fast as she can. The world’s merriment seemed to mock her darker memories. She confessed one night, in a rare moment of vulnerability and a very expensive bottle of wine, that Christmas had always been a painful time for her. Her voice, usually steady and unwavering, softened as she looked at you across the table. She told you about her sister, Yelena—the only person in her family who had ever truly cared about Christmas. Yelena had been the kind of person who could find joy even in the bleakest of places, someone who refused to let the world’s coldness harden her heart.

“She loved it,” Natasha said, her lips curling into a wistful smile as if she could still see Yelena bustling around their childhood home. “The lights, the snow, the decorations. She’d drag me into whatever shop she could find, looking for things to make the house even more festive. Ornaments, candles, the cheesiest, most stupid Santa hats—whatever she could get her hands on.” She paused, her gaze unfocused as though she were looking back through the years.

Yelena had been the one to make Christmas feel like magic. She knew all of the Christmas carols, singing along even if the notes were slightly off-key. This joy followed her into her adulthood, and even when she became sick. Every year, she insisted on stringing up lights around their shared apartment —“even if we don’t have a tree, Natasha, we’ll have lights. You know it’s all about the glow.” She was fearless, mischievous, and relentlessly stubborn in her belief that joy was worth chasing, even if it didn’t come easy. “She’d bake,” Natasha continued, her voice thick with emotion. “Not well obviously— she couldn’t stand for long at the point. Plus, her cookies had always been terrible—but she didn’t care. She’d make a mess everywhere and laugh at herself, daring me to do better. I never tried, though. I always just watched her and took her to bed whenever she was done.” Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass, her knuckles whitening slightly. “She believed in traditions, even when there was no reason to. Especially when there was no reason to,” she added, “she said traditions gave people hope, something to hold on to in the dark. I didn’t get it then—I still don’t fully— but with time, I understood she was trying to help me be okay with the world when she was no longer around.”

Yelena had been more than just a younger sister to Natasha —she had been her tether, her mirror, her light. She was the last person left of her family, and the only one who ever made Natasha feel things she often tried to ignore: a steady warmth, a strong connection, the possibility of life being worth more. She was everything Natasha wish she could be.

And when Yelena died, Christmas died with her.

“There was no one to care about it anymore,” Natasha said, her voice breaking for the briefest of moments before she pushed the emotion back behind her walls, blinking her tears away. “No one to make it mean anything.” You reached across the table, placing your hand over hers. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t meet your eyes either. For a long moment, the two of you sat in silence, the air between you thick. “She would’ve liked you,” she murmured after a while, her voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it. “Yelena… she always liked people who made things feel… safe.”

Your chest tightened, the weight of her words settling deep in your heart. You realised, in that moment, just how much Natasha trusted you—how much she had given you by sharing this piece of herself. From that moment, you made a promise to yourself: a promise to return Yelena’s light back into her life.

⊹♡

One morning, you found yourself lost on a tree farm. Rows upon rows of evergreens stretched out like soldiers in formation, their frosted branches from the night before glistening in the morning sun. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, the crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound for a moment. Natasha walked beside you, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat, her eyes on swivel but not necessarily looking at the trees. She hadn’t said much since you picked her up that morning, you weren’t entirely sure if it was the early start or the occasion that silenced her.

“This one’s nice.” You said, gesturing to a stately Fraser fir with almost symmetrical branches. She stopped, gave the tree a quick once-over, and shrugged. “It’s fine.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, moving along until you could find the next one. You had planned on finding a tree that you both could put up at her place, but with each step, it seemed like this tree would be better suited living at yours. You tried again. “What about this one?” You pointed to a taller tree, its branches also slightly uneven but full of character. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I guess. If you like it.” Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t inviting either. You let out a small breath, watching it cloud in front of you before dissipating into the icy air.

“No, we can keep looking.”

Laughter and the occasional clatter of a fallen tree echoed through the air. You couldn’t see them mostly but could imagine families adorned in colourful hats and scarves scattered across the farm. Natasha, however, didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes back to skimming over the trees with a detached disinterest and her surroundings, her mouth set in a way that told you she’d rather be anywhere else.

“Do you want to go home? You asked gently.

She paused, her head tilting slightly as if weighing whether to respond. “You wanted a tree,” she said finally, her voice even. “So we’re getting a tree.”

“It’s not that important.” You said. “If you’re not into it, we can go.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m fine.” She said, her voice clipped. Then, softer: “Let’s just look over there.”

You didn’t press her further.

The two of you wandered deeper into the farm, the trees becoming denser, their branches heavy with snow. You found yourself wondering if Natasha even saw them, her eyes not even bothering with her environment anymore as she kept her head down towards the snow, her mind clearly somewhere far away. “How about this one?” You tried again, stopping in front of a modest blue spruce. Its branches were sturdy, the kind that could hold up heavy ornaments, and its shape was pleasingly perfect. She stopped beside you, her eyes lingering on the tree. She didn’t say anything right away, and for a moment, you thought she might dismiss it like the others. But then she tilted her head, considering.

“It’s okay.” She said, and while it wasn’t glowing praise, it was a step up from fine.

“You sure?” You asked, not wanting to push.

She nodded, her gaze lingering on the tree a second longer. “Yeah. It’s fine.” She finished, before turning abruptly back in the other direction. Later, the workers secured the tree to the roof of your car, their cheerful banter filling the space as you and Natasha stood off to the side. She didn’t say much, but when you glanced over at her, you thought you saw her mouth twitch—just the faintest hint of a smile. “Thanks for letting me tag along.” She said quietly.

You offered her a small smile. “I’m glad you came.”

⊹♡

Snow finally began to settle permanently in the middle of December. It clung to the rooftops and frosted the tree branches outside your apartment. Winter had truly arrived. You hadn’t seen Natasha since that morning; her work had whisked her off to the West Coast for an urgent business trip, leaving you to decorate the tree in your tiny apartment alone. Your living room was silent except for the soft hum of a holiday playlist you’d set to shuffle, but you were used to the lingering echo since moving in.

You missed her terribly.

Without Natasha here, you were unable to focus on anything but yourself: your terrible breakup last Christmas that had you packing your bags and running away to a different state, your argument with your family that had been the last time you’d spoken to them and the reason why you weren’t invited home this year, your sadness that crept up whenever you were forced to sit in silence with yourself. Deep down, you know she could see through you, could see how you suffered much like she did. It’s why you both clicked together instantly. But the difference with Natasha is that she never pried, never pushed you to talk about what you weren’t ready to say. And it wasn’t like you wanted to dwell on these things, but they lived inside you now, demanding attention in the silence.

Your ignorance was bliss, until it wasn’t.

And days when Natasha went away were the worst.

The doorbell rang at a late hour. Behind it stood Natasha, her coat dusted with fresh snow, her cheeks flushed pink from the nipping cold. She looked exhausted, her carry-on slung over one shoulder and her laptop bag in the other.

“You’re back?” You blurted out, wondering why she was here and not at her own place. It was Wednesday after all.

“I wanted to see you.” She admitted, shuffling awkwardly at her confession.

You pulled her through the door, allowing her a second to set her bags down with a tired sigh, her shoulders finally dropping as the door clicked shut behind her. “How was the trip?” You asked as you moved toward the kitchen, already reaching for the kettle and her mug.

“Exhausting.” She replied, shedding her snow-damp coat and draping it over the back of the chair. “And frustrating. Clients were indecisive, as usual, and the meetings went in circles half the time.”

You gave her a sympathetic look as you handed her a steaming mug of tea. “At least now you’re done for the holidays, right?”

She hummed in agreement, her fingers wrapping gratefully around the warmth of the cup. Despite the drink, you noticed her shiver and disappeared into your bedroom. You rummaged through your drawers, pulling out an oversized purple sweatshirt and some grey sweatpants.

When you handed them to her, she raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to—”

“You’re not sitting around in wet clothes, Natasha.” You cut her off, gesturing toward the bathroom. “Go change.”

By the time she emerged, looking infinitely more comfortable in your clothes, you had noticed the snow starting to pick up outside. Large flakes swirled under the glow of the streetlamps, a storm intensifying.

Perfect weather for what you had planned.

You grabbed a spare hat and scarf from the coat rack, along with a pair of gloves, and tossed them at her.

“What’s this?” Natasha asked, catching the items with a puzzled expression.

“We’re going out.”

“Out? In this weather?”

You were already pulling on your own coat and boots, ignoring her protests. “Yes, out. You’ve been cooped up in airports and meeting rooms for weeks. You need this.”

“I need sleep.” She muttered, but she already had her coat, reaching for the hat, her lips twitching as if she was trying not to smile.

“Come on. You urged, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the door.

The streetlights cast a warm golden glow on the fresh blanket of snow, and for a moment, she hesitated. Her reluctant smile cracked through the guarded exterior she so often wore when you were outside. It was like sunlight breaking through clouds. Looking down at her watch, she noticed the time read 1am. “Oh my God, it’s the middle of the night,” she moaned, shaking her head, “and it’s freezing!”

“You’re Russian.” You deadpanned. “Aren’t you genetically programmed to thrive in this?”

She shot you a withering look, but the corner of her mouth twitched, betraying her. “That’s not how it works and you know it.”

She turned back around towards your building but before she could move any further, the first snowball struck her shoulder with a soft thwump. She froze, blinking in disbelief. You stood a few feet away, grinning triumphantly, the remnants of the snowball crumbling in your hand. She swung back around, her eyes narrowed, lips parted in exaggerated shock. “Oh, so that’s how it is? These are your clothes you know!” Before you could reply, she bent down, scooped up snow, and hurled it at you. It hit squarely on your chest, the icy cold seeping through your coat.

“Hey!” You yelped, laughing.

“You started this!” She shot back, her voice light—playful in a way you rarely heard.

And then it was war. Snowballs flew in all directions, and the street filled with your laughter, echoing off the quiet houses. Natasha’s aim was deadly accurate, and you were sure she was holding back for your sake. It was quite pathetic. At one point, she feigned defeat only to pounce on you with a pile of snow that left you sputtering.

“You’re a cheat!” You gasped, brushing snow off your face.

“And you’re slow!” She quipped, already forming another snowball to smush in your face.

The cold stung your nose and turned your cheeks raw, but none of it mattered. What mattered was the way Natasha laughed—real and unrestrained, her head thrown back, the sound almost musical in the still night. It was the kind of laugh that felt like a gift, something rare and precious, and you never wanted it to end. Finally, both of you collapsed onto the snow, breathless and flushed. The stars peeked through the gaps in the clouds, and the world seemed impossibly quiet, save for the sound of your labored breathing. Natasha’s head rested on your shoulder, her knitted beanie (that actually belonged to you) slightly askew. “Okay,” she said between gasps, “I admit—that was fun.”

“You’re so welcome.” You teased, shifting to look at her.

“But that’s only because I beat your ass.”

She looked so beautiful in this moment. Her cheeks were rosy, the same shade as her damp hair where stray snowflakes had melted. She was at peace—something you wish you saw more of. You brushed a gloved hand against her cheek, then leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her icy forehead, unable to stop yourself.

“You were right. You’re freezing.” You murmured.

“Maybe.” She replied, her smile small. She shifted closer, laying her head on top of yours. “But I don’t mind.”

⊹♡

With both you and Natasha no longer at work, meant she could hang out with you more often. It was late one evening —you both had spent the day inside your apartment doing absolutely —when she insisted on a walk, claiming the air was getting "stuffy," though you suspected she just needed an excuse to stretch her legs.

Somehow, you had ended up in the suburbs in New Jersey.

“You know, this is kind of perfect.” She said, glancing over at you with a small smile. “No one’s out right now.” You laughed softly, the warmth of her gaze doing more to fight the chill than the layers you’d bundled yourself into. “Yes, well, the suburbs In Jersey are surprisingly magical when nobody’s around.” You joked, sarcasm evident, as you nodded toward the rows of houses strung with twinkling lights. It felt like something out of a postcard, the kind of scene you’d only read about.

The two of you turned a corner and were met with the soft harmony of voices carried on the wind. A group of carolers stood in front of a house, lanterns glowing in their hands as they sang “Silent Night.” Natasha paused, her steps slowing as she tilted her head to listen. Her expression softened, a rare kind of calm washing over her features.

“You don’t strike me as the caroling type.” You teased, bumping her shoulder lightly.

“I’m not.” She admitted, though her lips curved into a grin. “But... it’s nice, isn’t it? Peaceful.”

It was odd. This was the first time you’d seen Natasha act normal with the idea of Christmas.

“They make it look so easy.” She said after a while, her voice quiet.

“What do you mean?”

“They make it look easy believing in... I don’t know. The magic of it all.” She added, as her brow furrowed.

You turned to look at her, the soft glow of the carolers’ lanterns catching in her green eyes. “Maybe it’s not about believing.” You said after a moment. “Maybe it’s just about... letting yourself feel it. Even if it hurts, let yourself feel all of it.”

She stood quietly for a beat before adding, “Yelena loved this song.”

You stayed silent, letting the moment slip away as she became lost in the tune. Natasha's expression contorted with pain as the song finished and the group moved on, but made no move to leave. Without hesitation, you clasped her hand tightly, guiding her away and back in the direction of the city.

You both walked in silence the entire way home.

⊹♡

The next time you saw Natasha was the following weekend when she came over for a sleepover. You could tell the temperature had dropped even more just by the state you found her in at your door. You could only see her eyes. She was wearing your beanie again, with a scarf wound tightly around her neck and the exposed parts of her face. She carried a mismatched tote bag that practically bursted at the seams, the telltale sign of someone who couldn’t quite decide what to pack.

She’d never slept over before.

Well, purposely.

Later that night, in the cozy warmth of your kitchen, you began pulling out ingredients for gingerbread cookies, demanding the taller woman come stand beside you once her ‘bones were warm enough.’ Natasha remained perched on a stool, her favourite mug clasped in her hands, watching you with a raised eyebrow and a half-smirk.

"Our first sleepover. And you’re putting me to work? At this hour? I almost died coming over to see you.” She teased, glancing at the clock.

It’s nearly midnight.

"It’s time for midnight gingerbread.” You replied, beaming as you tied an apron around your waist. "It’s a tradition now."

Now?" She echoed, laughing. "This is literally the first time we’re doing this."

"Exactly, that’s how traditions start."

Natasha rolled her eyes but hopped off the stool to join you, muttering under her breath about wishing she had froze to death on the way over before tugging at your apron strings like a mischievous child, pushing you slightly away from your spot so she could fill it.

“Fine, let’s get this over with.”

The process was chaotic from the start. Natasha’s never baked before, and it showed. The first mishap happened when she cracked an egg with a little too much enthusiasm, sending yolk sliding across the counter. And from then, she managed to do nothing correct without your assistance. You were halfway through laughing when she retaliated by flicking a bit of flour at your cheek.

"Did you just—"

Before you could finish, she grinned devilish and dropped more flour over your head, “oh no, looks like you’ve got a little something there.”

Again, the process was chaotic.

Precision measuring gave way to messy improvisation as flour flew through the air in clouds of white. Natasha was unrelenting, chasing you around the island with a bag of powdered sugar like it’s a weapon. By the time you called a truce, the counters, the floor, and both of you were completely dusted with flour. "You look ridiculous.” You said, laughing so hard your sides ached. She wiped a streak of flour off her nose and smeared it onto your shirt. “Speak for yourself. You look like you’ve never seen the sun before.”

When you finally managed to clean up enough to resume baking, Natasha was benched to mixing the dough— far far away from the flour— but it took her all of ten seconds to abandon the spatula and dig in with her hands. “Are you sure this is hygienic?” She asked, grinning as she squished the dough between her fingers like it’s Play-Doh.

You’re pretty sure she doesn’t know what Play-Doh is.

"Absolutely not.” You replied, shaking your head. But neither of you cared. Somehow, The batter never even made it to the oven. After a mutual taste test—"for quality control," Natasha insisted upon —you realised you (she) had eaten most of it. "So, we’re out of ingredients." You admitted, licking a stray smear of molasses from your thumb. Natasha plopped down on the floor, leaning back against the cabinets with a satisfied sigh. “Good.” She said, licking a bit of dough off her finger. “The batter’s better anyway.” You sat beside her, the warmth of the oven lingering even though you never used it. The kitchen was a mess, the cookies a total failure, but none of it mattered.

You both fell asleep that night with the biggest smiles on your face.

⊹♡

Natasha ended up staying the next weekend too. Christmas fell on a Sunday, the big day seemed to sneak up on both of you, but for now, it was Christmas Eve, and the night stretched on, timeless and unhurried. After watching a few Christmas movies, the two of you found yourselves curled up in front of your fireplace — the fireplace being a YouTube video on loop coming from your television. The crackling flames painted your surroundings in shifting shadows, the room bathed in a burnt orange haze that made everything feel a little softer, a little more intimate. Natasha’s arms were wrapped securely around you, her presence grounding and warm. You hummed an old carol you heard once before under your breath, a lullaby that filled the quiet. Her hand traced lazy circles on your back, her fingers light but steady, as though she was trying to etch the moment into her memory. You watched her, unable to help yourself. The way the firelight kissed her skin, the soft rise and fall of her breathing, the peace in her expression— how rare it was to see her like this. Truly at ease. Vulnerable, but not guarded. You wanted to hold this moment forever, to preserve it for her in the way she deserved, and selfishly for yourself.

Falling for Natasha wasn’t difficult. From the beginning of the friendship, there was a constant undercurrent, a slow burn that never fully ignited, yet refused to fade. You fell in love with her so suddenly—in the quiet moments—that you couldn’t figure out when she became more to you than just a friend. Or if she was ever just that. And over the past year, you’d learned there was so much more to her than the cold, unyielding exterior she presented to the world. No one loved as much as she did. And now, as you sat basically on her lap, the space between both impossibly vast and unbearably close, you realised that falling for Natasha wasn’t just easy—it was inevitable.

“This is what Christmas is supposed to feel like.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper, like a thought she hadn’t meant to say aloud. As if she didn’t want to disturb the silence. Her gaze was distant, yet there was a softness in her tone that made your chest burn. You hesitated, the words catching in your throat before they could fully form. “You miss her.” You finally said. It wasn’t quite a question, but Natasha understood. Her eyes flickered to yours, that same vulnerability reflecting through. “I always miss her.” She admitted, her voice even quieter now, almost fragile. She didn’t need to say Yelena’s name; you knew. “It’s strange… even after all these years, I still expect her to be here sometimes. Like she’ll just walk in, scolding me for not keeping the lights on all day or dragging me out of the house to help on her latest conquest.”

Your heart cried out with something deep and tender, the kind of feeling no words could ever quite capture. “I’ve got something for you.” She looked at you, her brow furrowed slightly in curiosity as you stood and walked to the Christmas tree. From beneath its branches, you retrieved a small, carefully wrapped box and brought it back to her—one of many gifts you’ve bought for her. “This was supposed to be for tomorrow,” you said, sitting down beside her again, “but I think it’ll mean more tonight.” She took the gift, her fingers brushing against yours briefly before she began unwrapping it. Beneath the paper was a small music box, its pearl-coloured sides adorned with golden, intricate carvings. She opened the lid, revealing a tiny engraving inside: the words “My Light” in Russian reside underneath a picture of Yelena in her youth, dressed as an angel for a school nativity play, her beaming smile radiant and full of life.

Natasha’s breath caught, her fingers trembling slightly as she traced the edges of the engraving. “How did you—” she began, her voice breaking.

“You have to twist the key, Nat.” You said softly, closing the lid of the box.

She turned the key, the lid opening to reveal her younger sister all over again; as the music box began to play a gentle melody. But it wasn’t just music—it was a recording, faint but unmistakable hidden under the notes. The sound of Yelena’s voice filled the room, singing “Silent Night” with all the enthusiasm a child could muster for the slow song. Natasha’s hand flew to her mouth, and tears streamed freely down her face as the recording picked up another voice. It was quieter, steadier, but unmistakably hers. A younger version of her sang along with Yelena, their voices blending, only broken by their shared giggles as they sang together, sometimes stumbling over the lyrics. Her shoulders shook as she listened, and you reached for her, pulling her into your arms. She clung to you, her face buried against your neck, her tears damp against your skin, as sobs rocked her slender frame. You held her tightly, wishing you could somehow ease the weight of her grief and the bittersweet joy of this moment.

Her lips trembled as she tried to form words in the broke of your neck. “This…this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I don’t even know how you did this—” She pulled away from you to glance back at the music box, her fingers delicately tracing the engraved picture of Yelena. “She was my everything. The only good thing I had for so long – moya sestra (my sister), moy malen'kiy svet (my little light.)”

You nodded, squeezing her hand. “I know. And now you have her again, even if it’s just a little piece.” Natasha set the music box down carefully, as though it were made of glass. She leaned forward, confident in her actions, in her love for you—a soft kiss pressed to your lips.

She had never kissed you before.

She wanted to again.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

You leaned in, kissing her once again, the taste of salt comforting. “You deserve everything good in this world,” you said softly, stroking the remnants of her tears, “and you deserve love, Nat. I’ll promise I’ll remind you of that every day.”

You placed a delicate hand over her heart and spoke, “I see you. And in this light of yours, I see her.”

She kissed you again, softer and longer than the last, her lips brushing yours; fuelled behind every emotion, every feeling, every part of her heart that now belonged to you, “Thank you for giving her back to me.”

You smiled softly, brushing a stray red curl away from her face. "I promise to make every Christmas something worth remembering, for as long as I can. To remind you there’s always light to find, even in the darkest nights."

She leaned in, resting her forehead gently against yours. "You already have."

You smiled, brushing a stray red curl from her face. “I promise to make every Christmas something worth remembering for as long as I can. And to remind you of her light. With you. With Yelena.”

She leaned in, her forehead pressing gently against yours. “You already have.”

[writingstreetspirit]

All I Want For Solstice, (Is You)

Summary: What could possibly be better than celebrating Winter Solstice with your family?

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Shit ton of fluff, sappy feelings, pregnancy

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: I hope this pieces was alright, I’d thought it be finished a lot earlier this December since I started writing it in November. But my cat unexpectedly became sick and had to be put down so I’ve been taking time to mourn his passing as well as getting back the energy to write again. Anyways, I hope you all will have a wonderful Winter Holiday however you’re celebrating!

—

“We’re going to be late!” You hurried down the stairs as fast as you could in your, although low but still, heels. Scanning eyes searched for your handbag while simultaneously putting on the earrings that Azriel gifted you for your last birthday.

Azriel came out from the kitchen, a gift bag with the presents for your friends in hand. “Maybe a little. The others can survive our absence for a few minutes. Remember last Winter Solstice? Cassian and Nesta didn’t arrive until more than half an hour after everyone else.”

You huffed a breathless chuckle, grabbing for one of the warmer formal coats on the clothing rack in the hallway. “Yeah, and they’ll never hear the end of it. I’d rather not have a repeat of last year.”

Azriel, who was already dressed and ready to go outside, took a gentle hold of your upper arms. You halted to a stop at the sudden touch. “[Name], slow down, take a deep breath. You know that stress isn’t good for you.”

Breathing in deep through your nose and slowly releasing it through your mouth, you could feel the tightness in your shoulders loosen. Azriel smiled, gently squeezing his hands around your flesh. “Good, that’s better.”

Nodding, you slumped your head forward, resting your temple against your bondmate’s firm shoulder. “Sorry.”

Warm hands cupped your cheeks softly, tilting your head up so that he could look at you. Azriel’s hazel eyes held that warm and tender look that he only reserved for you, for the love of his life.

“Sweetheart, you never have to apologize for that. I just want you to be healthy and happy, the both of you.”

His hands instinctively left your cheeks to wander down your dress, settling over your swollen stomach, one lone shadow joining their master’s hands. You were well into the third and last trimester, and with just a few more weeks worth of time, the growing baby within you was to be born.

With it being your and Azriel’s first child, every single aspect of the pregnancy was completely new, both beautiful beyond words, and downright scary at times. While the both of you were ready and eager to welcome a little boy or girl, it is frightening thinking that someone so small and precious was to be brought into the world.

You sighed, leaning into the familiar and comforting touch. Azriel was always touching your belly ever since the news of a little life growing inside you were revealed, you're almost surprised they hadn’t left marks on your skin yet. His shadows were not much better, if Azriel couldn’t be near you for any reason, several of them would remain beside you to watch over and protect.

”We’re both okay, how could we not be when we have such a doting male taking care of us?” As if in agreement with your words, a foot kicked your stomach, right under one of Azriel’s palm. A smile grew on your lips, and Azriel downright beamed at the feel. You cooed, gazing lovingly at your round stomach, ”Yeah, isn’t that right, little one?”

Another kick, this time firmer and the small laugh that escaped from Azriel sounded a little choked. He leaned down, pressing a long kiss against where his hands had been seconds before. With his lips still pressed against you, Azriel whispered words that you had a hard time hearing. But the way he spoke them, the affection dripping from his voice, you knew they were made of love.

After a few more moments, Azriel seemed to be able to tear himself away from your belly, the shadow retreating to their master. Once back up on his feet, he leaned down to press a slow kiss on your lips. You couldn’t help but melt against your bandmate, arms wrapping themself around his neck to keep him close. The need after breath was what finally made you have to pull back from those alluring lips.

”Are you ready to leave?” Azriel mumbled, aiding your limbs in to your coat and buttoned it up. He pressed a kiss against your temple, a strong forearm sneaking behind and round your waist. At your smile and nod, the two of you opened the door and stepped out into the snow.

The Townhouse was bustling with activity when Azriel and you arrived. Loud talking, laughter and the clinking of silverware in the kitchen greeted your ears immediately after the door closed behind the two of you. Shrugging off the small amount of snow that had collected on your coat and in your hair, Azriel helped you out of the coat as well as his own.

With his arm wrapped around your waist, Azriel and you stepped further into the warm house and into the kitchen. Feyre, who was leaning against the counter beside Rhysand, noticed your arrival first. She threw herself over to you, giving you a hug. “Azriel, [Name]! Welcome, the food’s almost ready!”

“We’re not late, are we?” You asked upon being released, immediately being enveloped in a hug by Rhys, then Cassian, followed by Nesta, Mor, and lastly Elain. Amren had unfortunately been busy elsewhere and unable to join your family for celebration.

“No, no, you’re fine. Cassian and Nesta just arrived minutes earlier.” Rhysand reassured you, pulling away from hugging his fellow Illyrian brother. Azriel gave you a pointed, but tender look, as if saying ‘told you so’. You rolled your eyes at him, a somewhat sheepish smile tugging on your lips.

Azriel huffed, pressing his lips against your temple. His arm creeped back around your side, his hand resting against your stomach as he so usually did the last couple months. You leaned back against his steady form with a content smile.

Cassian, having seen the whole scene, let out a snort and smirked at Azriel. “You’re so wiped, Az.”

Your mate’s eyes that had been locked on you hardened a bit in warning, directing his gaze at Cassian. Feyre and Azriel stifled a giggle when Nesta’s hand made contact with the back of her mate's head, a tsked ‘idiot’ escaping her mouth.

The smirk remained, but his eyes gave away to gentleness. ”On a serious note, we’re so happy for you two. How are you and the baby doing [Name]? Not long left till your little one is here.”

You smiled, your own hand settling on top of your husband’s on your stomach. “We’re doing great Cass. Just a couple more weeks before you get to meet your niece or nephew.”

“From what I’ve gathered, Azriel seems certain that it’s a girl.” Rhysand said, sharing a look with you. That was indeed true, whenever Azriel would speak with you about your unborn child, he would always call them a girl. Whether it was about the nursery or baby clothes or what color their eyes would have, the Shadowsinger thought you two would have a daughter.

You knew your mate would be ecstatic no matter if the baby would turn out to be a boy or girl, but it did secretly warm your heart imagining Azriel with a daughter. But you would have to wait for the birth to find out if your mate was right or not.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait to find out.” You said wistfully. Azriel hummed, a loving smile on his face. He leaned down, pressing a brief kiss on your lips, whispering low for only you to hear. “I can’t wait to meet her, or him.”

Feyre smiled at your comment, gazing at her own mate before looking at the stove. “Yes, indeed we will. Anyways, the food should be ready. Let’s eat!”

The following hour was spent at the dining table, surrounded by your closest friends and family eating a delicious meal and delightful drinks. Cheeks almost sore from smiling and belly full and content, everybody eventually migrated to the living room to land on the couches and armchairs.

After the gifts were given, received and opened, Azriel sat on an armchair that was appropriately sized for Illyrian wings with you sitting with your back pressed against his chest. The sun had already gone down and the snow fell heavy outside, the energy from the day had been all but spent. In your wonderful mate’s arms, you couldn’t help but to be dowsing.

“Did you have fun today, sweetheart?” Azriel asked low, just for you to hear. You nodded, tipping your head back to look at him, a slow and sleepy smile spreading across your face. “This was the best Solstice I’ve ever celebrated.”

A warm and tender hand caressed your flushed cheek. His other hand rested on your belly, thumb swiping back and forth against the stretched skin. A couple of his shadows flowed across the skin that was not covered by his hand, curious and delighted by their soon to be new friend.

The baby within was peacefully sleeping after having kicked the whole time that the gifts had been opened. “I’m glad that you feel the same. I take it that we should be heading home soon?”

You hummed, leaning back further in Azriel’s warm embrace, face nuzzling deeper into his shoulder blade. “Not just yet. Stay like this for a little while longer, your comfortable.”

Azriel chuckled but tightened his arms around you, leaning his cheek against the top of your head. “Whatever my mate wants, she gets.”

[enden-k]

short story summary here, again

im including some of my old, traditional art of the og comic i drew years ago to the recent ones BWAHHAH

[the nobody] vindrael lyndis

age: around 23 in human years

height: ~163cm

species: high elf

the protag. vin was born in a small village in the kingdom of Morgana. hes a high elf, a species that is known for their intelligence and masters of the summoning arts. all elven species are known to be very tall and ethereal and beautiful; they are born with both sets of reproductive organs and are not assigned a gender at birth (going agender by default) until they choose it themselves if they wish to do so. vin identifies as male. unlike the average high elf, vin is much shorter and bland looking which troubled him all his life. he was and is often overlooked by others as he doesnt stand out. to make up for that, he possesses extreme intelligence and a talent for the summoning arts much surpassing an average high elf. he studied and worked extremely hard and became one of the greatest summoners in the kingdom until the king himself ordered him to the court to make him his personal summoner. the king was the first ever person who truly noticed and praised him for his talents and vin started to develop feelings of romantic nature. when he learned of the betrayal, hes even more shocked and hurt than titus. he failed to see the kings change and manipulation due to his feelings clouding his eyes and mind and it shook him deeply. he comes off as timid and polite but has actually quite the temper and bad mouth. he overthinks a lot and is always stressed and on the verge of losing it. despite his rational thinking, he tends to act impulsively when hes teased and messed with too much. everyone else in their group is crazy strong and op and vin often feels like he doesnt fit in there, constantly doubting his worth and powers. he often envies others and its a trait he hates about himself; he envies zydonia specifically for the confidence he wishes he had himself. after the kings betrayal, vin feels extremely lost and insecure in the world and latches onto titus as his new meaning of life. he puts his well-being over his own, considering it to be his duty to his prince, and would follow him everywhere even if he often gets upset with titus rash decisions and empty head. titus considers them best friends and treats them both as equals but vin still treats him as a prince, putting some distance between them. only when zydonia makes him learn to prioritize his own needs and well-being and stop putting titus on a pedestal does vin grow more secure and their friendship truly turns into a warm and mutual, equal one.

[the worlds enemy] zerevni-ir yggdra dragonya ova-akhyn nggdragryl i-ihm avna (Z Y D O N I A)

age: in human years around late 20s/early 30s estimate

height: ~194cm

species: goldhorn dragon

the last dragon of his kind. a jailed king with no clan to rule anymore. the dragons are mythical beings living "above the world" and are divided into 4 clans; the goldhorns, the whitetails, the redclaws and the blackscales. each clan possesses a unique ability, ancient magic, which is passed down from king to king. the goldhorns magic is restorative, healing; the ancient magic is "resurrection" zydonia is not of royal blood. he was a common dragon and had loving parents. due to a tragic event caused by his carelessness as a child when he barely learned how to fly, he fell off the edge of the world to the mortal realm, broke his left horn and lost his parents when they tried to retrieve and protect his dying form from human hunters who were attracted by his fall. bc of his broken horn, zydonia lost a part of his dragon powers and his dragon form, turning into a much smaller, humanoid form. his parents death set off his berserker mode, a state a dragon goes in when overwhelmed by intense emotions and unleashing their powers in an extremely mass destructive burst. zydonias wrath was the most powerful and destructive anyone has ever witnessed and it led to him unintentionally wiping out the entire region. the goldclaws were attracted by his powers and came to the rescue; he was healed and brought back by the king who adopted him as his own son, fascinated by his powers and potential. despite his lost dragon form, the dragons still considered him as one of their own. even when he took over his deceased adoptive father and became king, he was loved and respected. he inherited the clans magic but is unable to use it bc of his broken horn, making him a flawed and unworthy king in the eye of another, specific dragon clan who soon came up with a plan to get their claws on his magic, murder him and take over (leaving this all out so this wont get any longer than it already is) back to the present, he was jailed in a dungeon when he got careless and was eventually busted out by titus and the others. ofc his jailbreak didnt go unnoticed and soon hes wanted all across the lands since hes considered a threat to the world due to the annihilation of an entire region when he was a kid a long long time ago; his powers as a grown dragon are much more destructive now and he possesses just one horn. he made a deal with titus; helping him grow strong and stop his father in exchange for busting him out of the dungeon and helping him find his lost horn to regain his form and powers. zydonia is very proud and confident and shameless. he comes off as easygoing, seeking amusement and always speaking his mind, no matter how naughty or "unkingly" it might be. despite his behavior, he still carries himself with a kings aura so its pretty clear he has royal manners and knows how to behave. he simply chooses not to, for the fun of it. hes stronger and more powerful than anyone else but does not brag about it and rather teaches the others how to "suck less" and get better. he only steps into fights when he knows the enemy is outclassing the others. zydonia has his eyes set on vin and loves to banter and tease. it seems he prefers people who dont like him at first and are not afraid to be honest and speak rudely to him.

[the failed prince] titus von morganastatt

age: 21 years

height: 187cm

species: human

the failed 2nd prince of Morgana. he had an older brother who he loved dearly and a onesided relationship to his father; his father neglected him a lot and didnt pay him much attention, rather favoring his brother aris who was way smarter and more capable than titus. his brother always tried to shield him from their father, willing to take on all the royal duties so titus could have a much more innocent childhood without his fathers sharp eyes and strict hand. its why titus never had to bother much with politics, diplomacy or all the "paperwork" that comes, only focusing on honing his body and eager to fight exciting battles. he doesnt understand much of such things and his father regards him as stupid and not capable to follow into his footsteps and run a country like the strict king he is himself. when aris died, it destroyed both titus and his father. unlike titus tho, his father let the grief consume and corrupt him and soon he started to plan to sacrifice his remaining son to zydonia to resurrect aris, offering a hundreds bodies for the magic to work, including vin and bell who were accompanying titus. he wasnt aware tho that zydonia is unable to use the ancient magic bc of his broken horn. titus was already aware that his father had some wicked plans and knowing for certain now makes him want to stop and save him. he pretends to be dead and starts a new life, learning how to be a proper king unlike his father and growing stronger so he can confidently return to his home and face him and end whatever he started. titus is a very purehearted and kind prince; always believing in the good of people even if someone wronged or insulted him. hes naive and a little dumb at times and always needs a bit to fully understand things. he admires vin a lot bc of his intelligence and considers him his best friend since he always stuck around him. he also looks up to zydonia and learns a lot from him, both useless and useful things in all kind of matters. when he becomes king later on, a lot of the way he handles things is how he learned from watching zydonia since hes also a king.

[the assassin] bell

age: 22 years

height: 168cm

species: human

originally hailing from an assassin clan, she was ordered to join the royal army as an undercover knight and assassinate the royal family. however, she was assigned to titus own knights and when they met, they immediately became friends. just like titus, bell is chaotic and easygoing. the way she talks might be considered rude which is smth titus finds amusing and refreshing. she behaves very bold and doesnt care what others think. when they make their deal with zydonia bell is the first who announces she will follow titus and "beat the kings ass". she was ordered to assassinate the family but after becoming friends with titus, she doesnt want to carry out that order. the clan always kept her in the shadows and theres many things she wasnt allowed to do or enjoy; titus, vin and zy are her first friends and she decides to follow their light and do the things she wants and not what is expected of her. so, pretending to have died in that dungeon is also freeing her and allowing her to live a life she always wanted. bell is really strong (both physically and verbally) and skilled; shes often considered to have "bad manners" but doesnt care how others think of her. she doesnt hesitate to kick someones ass if theyre becoming annoying. shes perceptive and a quick thinker but still a bit silly at times. she and zydonia share the same chaotic energy and combined they definitely destroy vins nerves in record time.

[signanothername]

How would an average interaction between Cross and Killer be like?

Killer not even paying attention to Cross at all, and Cross being extremely offended by that ghdvgyv

To Killer, Cross isn't much of a threat, physically, emotionally or mentally, hell, he's not even close to being any sorta challenge

Killer finds everyone else a much bigger threat than Cross could ever be, from Horror and Murder, to Color, Epic and Delta, to Swap and Dream, and if Killer handled all of them atop handling the self proclaimed king of negativity, then Cross has big shoes to fill if he was so desperate for attention that he wanted Killer to acknowledge his pathetic attempts to be seen at all

Cross is all talk no action to Killer, Cross blabbers about being a royal guard and how he can kick Killer's ass but Killer is simply not even listening to Cross' threats or words

Killer's always been about actions not words, if Cross says he's gonna break his neck then he better deliver, and when it escalates (which happens a lot, Cross is generally aggressive), so far, Cross hasn't managed to impress Killer with his words turned actions either

The most interesting thing about him was his soul when it had its determination, the determination is no longer there, so Cross has lost any characteristics that could pull Killer's attention to him, and he frankly, sees Cross as extremely pathetic that he's simply not worth any second of his time at all, Cross is invisible to him if you will

Cross on the other hand, isn't desperate for Killer's attention because he admires Killer or is trying to impress him, but rather, born from both a deep-rooted insecurity and hating to feel out of place, like he doesn't belong

He looks at Killer and thinks of how similar they are in a way, yet so different still, and wonders what Killer has that he doesn't, why does Killer seem smarter, stronger, more durable, faster, more agile, more flexible and adaptable, and like he's so much better at everything, even so much better at healing from his pain and suffering, like it doesn't affect him at all (that's Cross' outlook on life, what he sees of Killer, but in reality, Cross has always been making greater and better progress in healing than Killer does, Killer isn't always better than him at everything)

So when he sees Killer not even bother look his way, and when he sees how apathetic he is towards not only him, but his friends, the ones that love him and take care of him, it hurts, and it makes his blood boil, how could Killer be so ungrateful

Cross isn't some innocent little boy who hasn't done horrific actions himself, but he's definitely hypocritical, as he'd lecture Killer and talk about how much of a terrible person he is and remind Killer of the fact he used to work for Nightmare (when he, the better person in his eyes, denied) like he hasn't done so many awful things himself

In reality Cross feels his emotions deeply, Killer doesn't, and that makes them clash in ideals, views, and general life outlook

Cross just needs to get to know Killer better and adjust to him, understand how to deal with him, but generally, Cross and Killer do get closer in the end, and they both warm up to each other

And when they actually warm up to each other, they act so much like siblings, the kind that love to be a lil mean to each other, but are gonna have each other's back regardless

[vampirecatprince]

Also- FUCKING HELL, THAT WAS MUCH MORE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF EGGMAN AND STONE'S RELATIONSHIP THEN I EVER EXPECTED???

And even if Ivo only said "friend", that's still more emotional vulnerability than he's probably shown anyone his entire adult life? And he said it in a way where it was obvious that he was hiding behind performative jokes and word play. Like he wasn't making a dying confession about Stone being the only other human he's ever actually liked. Just him trying to say that someone is his friend requires that degree of separation.

I genuinely don't think that he would even be able to be vulnerable enough to admit if his feelings were more than platonic about Stone. I think that we got as close as he ever could get to saying I Love You in that moment, especially when you remember that not even 20 minutes prior Gerald Robotnik had used those exact words against him in an incredibly cruel way.

And say what you will, but someone spending their final moments apologizing to someone and letting them know that they were the most important person in their life and that the world was only worth saving because they we're in it is NOT a purely platonic level of attachment.

[knottedhearts]

The space between us: B.E

a/n: This is part two, if you haven't read part one go read it!!.

The bedroom door stays closed for hours. You sit on the couch, the glow of the TV long since faded, leaving the room dim and heavy with silence. Billie’s words keep echoing in your head—“You’ll never get it.”

You want to give her space, but the ache in your chest grows unbearable. Finally, you stand and walk to the bedroom door, hesitating before knocking softly.

“Billie?”

No response.

You lean against the doorframe. “Look… I know you’re upset, but I can’t just sit out here acting like everything’s fine when it’s not. Can we talk? Please?”

Still nothing.

Sighing, you push the door open. Billie’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. Her dark brown hair falls in messy strands, and her blue eyes are puffy and red from crying.

Your heart twists. “Billie…”

She doesn’t look at you. “What do you want, Y/n?”

“I want to fix this,” you say softly, stepping closer. “I hate fighting with you.”

She shakes her head, her voice trembling. “It’s not just about the fight. It’s about how I feel—like I’m not enough for you. Like no matter what I do, someone else will always have more of your time.”

You sink onto the bed beside her, careful not to touch her yet. “You are enough, Billie. More than enough. I hate that I made you feel like you’re not.”

She finally looks at you, her eyes filled with hurt. “Then why does it feel like you’re always pulling away? Like you’d rather be anywhere but here?”

Your throat tightens. “I’m not pulling away—I promise I’m not. I just… I guess I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you. Luke is my friend, yeah, but you’re my everything. And I’ve done a terrible job making sure you know that.”

Her lip quivers, and a tear slips down her cheek. “I just need to feel like I’m your priority,” she whispers. “Not second place. Not someone you come home to when you’re done having fun somewhere else.”

You reach out, gently brushing the tear away with your thumb. “You are my priority. I swear. I’ll prove it to you—whatever it takes. I never meant to make you feel like you were second.”

She closes her eyes, leaning into your touch as more tears fall. “I hate feeling this way. I hate being this insecure.”

“It’s not insecurity, Billie. It’s love. You care so much that it hurts, and I get that now. I should’ve gotten it sooner.”

For the first time since the argument started, her walls seem to crack. She lets out a shaky breath and finally leans into you, burying her face in your neck.

“I’m sorry too,” she murmurs. “For yelling. For overreacting. I just… I need you.”

You hold her tighter, your arms wrapping around her like she might slip away if you let go. “I need you too. And I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

The two of you sit there in the dim light, the silence no longer heavy but comforting. The storm has passed, leaving behind something fragile but whole—something worth holding onto.

@d14n4ol < tag that asked for part 2.

[p0pp3t]

damn crew hcs because i miss them every day they’re not posted </3

sometimes when gavin is hanging out with his friends he’ll just. flop down on top of them if they’re sitting or lying down. genuine cat behavior. he gets very comfortable, his ear over their heart and their hand in his. he savors every second he gets. he also complains when any of them tell him they wanna get up

(for someone with such severe self worth issues) damien pampers himself SO much when if comes to hygiene. matching fragrances across all his products, shower steamers, bath bombs, candles, the whole deal. on friday nights you’ll find him wrapped in a plush bathrobe with a matching headband pushing his hair back, a clay mask smeared on his skin. he has a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, with some soft classical instrumentals pumping from the tv speakers. huxley loves coming home to find him so relaxed

sometimes, when he’s upset, huxley will go out into the backyard and lie in the grass for a while - letting the solid ground hold him and the soft grass caress him. other times, when he’s very upset, he’ll dig a hole and lie down in that instead. he feels safer, grounded (ha) and closer to his element. damien checks on him periodically with offerings of snacks and water

lasko is something of a fashionista (it might be why he and milo got along as well as they did at the E&E games) - he’s very meticulous about his closet; every item is lovingly sorted by type, color, material, and season. he frets whenever his “best” pieces are still in the laundry and no combination of the things he has on hand looks “good enough”. he’ll say it’s about being presentable but he also really just likes feeling pretty. dear assures him that he always looks lovely and helps him find an outfit he can at least tolerate for the day. such a diva

freelancer has an absolute BLAST on karaoke night. they’ve sung at least three (3) lovey-dovey duets with each of their friends and aim to do even more. (at first damien took some convincing with a direly serious “you love me, right?🥺”) as of late, their favorite singing partner has been dear - they’re always happy to indulge their freelancer and both their voices just blend so beautifully

in their quiet nature, dear has picked up on a lot of campus gossip when the people around them thought no one was listening. sometimes their students will come up to them and directly fill them in on the most recent, hottest rumors. they know how to keep a secret, but if damien needs dirt on another staff member he always knows who to ask

and speaking of - don’t let their professional appearances fool you; damien and lasko are total suckers for gossip. when their lunch breaks align with dear’s, nobody on campus is safe from their shit talk. lasko has a surprisingly sharp tongue where he feels it’s warranted

[millidew]

its been almost 6 years since kaito and ouma have infested me. here's me talking out of my ass for over 2k words

to love the ouma-kaito dynamic is to love the themes of v3. to see one of them as 100% correct and the other as 100% wrong is to hate the themes of v3.

there must be balance. which is one of the themes!

at first, they each represent one end of their spectrums: lies, distrust, and logic VS truth, trust, and emotion. but it's not all black and white— they're far more similar than they think

to get the obvious visual foiling out of the way: short vs tall, scrawny vs muscular, pale vs tan (relatively...), round eyes vs sharp eyes, cool purple vs warm purple, black and white vs a colorful galaxy, and a tight "straitjacket" vs what's basically loose pjs

they're visual opposites, but they're also both purple, charismatic leaders, would rather die than their let go of their respective roles of hero and villain, and both want to end the killing game. they're also both SO dramatic. they cannot be separated.

all this is to say that they're the same, just taking different approaches (i mean, just compare their early FTEs. what are you two FUCKING talking about. your ass is NOT a pirate kaito shut up). ouma hides drops of truth within his lies and lives to poke holes in others' poorly concealed lies. kaito talks about being honest, but is also constantly lying to himself and others. and it's so fitting for them to essentially die with each other.

lying your way to the truth, and 10 other tricks to surviving a killing game:

v3 is a game that asks: who are you? why are you even alive? what parts of you are really "you"?

in other words: what is true and what is a lie? does it matter?

the flashback lights are all lies. tsumugi can literally rewrite their "truth" as she wishes. and of course, there's the fact that they're all fictional characters come to life.

and there's the big lie of ch1, brought back in ch6. although this is less relevant to me, personally, because kaede fully intended and did try her damnedest to kill so either way she's still at fault soo

the theme of the survivors is that they all have a reason to fight to live even if the world is hell, because they're pushed forward by the connections they made— kaede's encouragements, the training with kaito that led to shuichi and maki's happiness, and himiko's memories of tenko and angie. even though maki loses kaito, because she had those good times with him that led to her change in self-worth, she'll be okay in the end. she's not enforcing her own loneliness anymore.

basically, "maybe the real reason to live is the friends we made along the way"

shuichi explicitly says that his feelings are true, even if they're born of lies. to lie, there has to be a truth. to be truthful, you can't lie. yin yang and all that

it's even shown with the game mechanic of perjury. kaede and shuichi can literally lie for the sake of finding the truth

he rejects being forced to choose between "hope" and "despair," breaking the cycle. it's pretty easy to apply this to the other dichotomies in v3: truth vs lies, trust vs distrust, logic vs emotion. even heroes vs villains.

ultimately, i think v3 aligns more closely with kaito's ideology, because of course truth and trust is a good thing....!, but not without poking massive holes in it too. because kaito's a prideful hypocrite and the game does NOT let you forget it <3 more on that later

little white lies AKA ouma is sick of your shit part 1:

"is the truth worth it? aren't feel-good white lies ok? what even is a lie?" ouma asks with his little hater heart. (ch1 and ch4)

here, we see ouma questioning the individual nature of common sense ("gut instinct", if you will)— how can kaede decide if his talent is a lie? what is a lie? if ouma is 99% lies by weight, what is ouma??? an annoying grape??

we all want the truth, right? but the truth can be ugly. that's what ouma's always showing.

this is something shuichi also tackles with his feelings on his own talent. by exposing the truth, he causes pain to others. but this isn't about him, so you'll just have to keep that in mind

in the death road to despair in ch1, it's kaede's optimism that causes misery to the rest of her classmates. they're lying to themselves when they try to do it over and over. again, ouma calls her out on it, pissing off kaito who supports kaede 100%. the idea they can all get out and become friends is…also really unlikely. and even with kaede's murder "for the greater good", ouma disparages her for doing it in the first place: she lost the moment she seriously considered the thought, and played right into monokuma's bloodthirsty lil' paws.

right after the ch3 execution, himiko still refuses to let herself feel… until ouma calls her out on it. stop lying to yourself. and they all let it out, crying together. it's a good thing, and spurs on himiko's arc to be more true to herself. you did a good thing, ouma. now onto ch4! yay!

the "truth of the outside world", and ch4 as a whole, is probably the most in your face way of showing this. but more on that later.

the boys are back:

if you want a good relationship with someone, vulnerability is key, one that ouma unfortunately can't replace with a lockpick. you have to be honest. maki and shuichi were honest to kaito, which let him help them out.

ouma is definitely not vulnerable, up until the very end. ouma's distrust of everyone pushes them away, leaving him alone— without the "reason to fight to live" the others have— living out of spite and determination, until he dies for that too. like maki, he reinforces his own loneliness, but unlike her, he never makes those connections that make him change into a more well-rounded person.

kaito's better than him, which is a really low bar, but the game goes out of its way to tell you that he's still hiding secrets and adamantly refuses to let down his hero persona, harming both himself and those around him. you are COUGHING UP BLOOD, you are NOT okay. while his sidekicks still know something is wrong, he refuses to truly let them in, instead just brushing them off.

and that pisses ouma off. at the very least, ouma's honest about being a liar. kaito, in his eyes, is a coward. (not only that, people still like him despite being a liar..... but that's probably more to do with kaito being way less of a dick).

ouma, in kaito's eyes, is also a coward. he can call ouma a two-faced coward as much as he wants, but pot, meet kettle

chapter 4 AKA ouma is sick of your shit part 2:

ok. seriously onto ch4 this time. it's the perfect set up to the insanity of ch5. the tension is insane. also, ouma does not shut up about kaito having a crush on him. ok man.

from now on, it's the kaito & ouma show, the truth & trust & hope & emotion & hero VS lies & distrust & despair & logic & villain show.

and the game puts kaito, and all his themes, in the wrong. poor gonta and shuichi are just along for the ride

the stubborn belief that worked so well for maki in ch2 makes kaito refuse to believe, despite the evidence pointing to it, that gonta is the blackened, endangering everyone. and this is the cause of kaito and shuichi's rift which ouma takes great pleasure in. i'm sure this greatly validates his own distrust and loneliness, seeing it as the superior option

kaito's a liar, shuichi's a liar, and gonta is...not a liar but still technically wrong. YOU'RE ALL LIARS AND KAITO/SHUICHI STANS. YOUR FAVE IS PROBLEMATIC. OUMA'S FUCKING PISSED

it's the hypocrisy that gets to him the most imo

does he know?

anyways, it's a great showdown between their two ideologies. up until now, i'd say the score was roughly 3:1 in kaito's favor, but now it's definitely more even. it even features ouma punching kaito instead of the other way around like last time: something made possible imo because of kaito's sickness, which ouma forces him and everyone to acknowledge by doing this

this is a massive L for the hero side.... can the sidekicks clutch this victory and save the princess?

(interestingly enough, note that kaito doesn't even seem to hate ouma after all that. at the start of ch5, he puts ouma and gonta in the same category as having snapped under the pressure due to monokuma. his feelings, of course, change later on.)

...

are you sure about that

yeah, the truth sucks sometimes, huh?

what now?

chapter 5 AKA the boys are back 2 AKA voyage without passion or purpose AKA the sickest chapter name ever

ch5 combines ouma and kaito's ideologies through their swansong, their magnum opus, their collective theatre kid dream

the hangar man. THE HANGAR. no more cameras. no more prying eyes. no more heroes. no more villains. NO PASSION (KAITO). NO PURPOSE (OUMA). WHAT'S THE POINT. IT ALL BLURS (probably because of the blood loss)

think about it this way: kaito is literally dying, hypocritically refusing to let his friends in. ouma is metaphorically dying, because he lacks the "reason to fight to survive" everyone else has, because he has no trust, no friends, no bitches... anyways

(also the poison, which is. you know. is also literally killing him but shush)

the closest he had was, imo, miu for a little, then kaito in ch5. but in the end, it's all spite, not connection, that drives him. ouma kills himself to prove a point, and they both die as a middle finger to the mastermind— a hollow victory, in many ways.

think about kaito sitting alone in the exisal, hacking his lungs out in the metallic silence of the belly of the beast, having just learned one of the truths behind ouma's act, then killing him, then having to lie to all your friends for the hope that ouma's final, crazy plan works out. he's finally stooped to ouma's level. he's so used to the smell of blood by now. does ouma's blood on his hands look any different from his own?

even kaito's motto: "the impossible is possible! all you gotta do it make it so!" is pretty much an admittance. you can make a lie (impossible) the truth (possible).

also ouma bleeding out looking like shit laying in kaito's galactic coat like a cape. kaito squeezing his eyes shut before before pressing the buttons. these images changed lives.

the lying truthersssss...working together!!! to literally pretend to be each other!!! to blur into one being!! trusting each other to see it through for their shared goal!! at first glance, maki thinks it's her fault— that ouma manipulated kaito using her, but kaito disagrees, saying it was for the sake of ending the killing game.

this is all to hammer home the idea that we shouldn't see them as "hero" or "villain." the cast sees them as it first, but of course, we know that's not so simple by the time kaito steps out of the exisal.

in the end, they fail, but kaito puts his and ouma's dreams in their hands. they can do it better this time.

plus, kaito finally stops lying to himself and others about being a liar, the thing ouma gave him endless shit for. it only took him 5 chapters

is it wrong to call "that was a lie" ouma's catchphrase?

i still can't believe maki believed him. love makes you stupid i guess

extra thoughts:

you might be wondering why i call him "ouma" and not "kokichi." i do the same with some other characters: kirigiri, togami (though i switch between that and byakuya nowadays), and komaeda. it's because i don't know them like that. we are NOT friends. "kirigiri" is out of respect however

don't you think ouma has his own "sidekicks," his "villain lackeys," if you will, in DICE?

kaito's execution music should've had the "reach for the stars" line from sdr2 and i'm still mad about it

and they should've both in that exisal idc

kaito somehow exited that exisal with a new jacket. it's my headcanon that, in respect of a fellow theatre kid, ouma stole a second jacket from kaito's room and put it in the exisal

VR au post game low(high)key codependent oumota is everything and i'll happily read 1000 fics about it

also just outside of the Themes of it all, and tbh my main draw to this duo... they're so funny. they are SO. FUNNY. THEY'RE SO GOOFY TOGETHER. STOP TRYING TO ONE UP EACH OTHER

they should run around and beat each other with toy hammers. it's enrichment.

this isn't like thematically relevant but their love hotel events really show how well they could work together. they want a rival to pump them up and fight back so bad!! they'd have the craziest vigilante beef

WHY IS THIS 2.1K WORDS/???!> i am so weak to rivals man

tldr: look at this meme.

tldr 2.0: a true kaito fan is also a true ouma fan and vice versa. you may not like it, but they're two peas in a pod. don't worry though, they're not happy about it either.

[booklovingturtle]

THIS!!!!! I absolutely believe this and it’s 10009% canon in my brain

Roy is objectively an academic (ehm….NERD) so I fully believe that he was so focused on alchemy as a study that he never cared to pursue any relationships before going to Berthold. He might not have even had many friends as a kid either bc of his dedication to the science. I also wouldn’t be suprised if his aunt’s profession left him a bit of an outcast bc kids can be mean and society hates sex workers.

I also believe the age gap made it so he never considered Riza that way. Then he left for the academy and if he ever lost his virginity, it would have been there. However, even at the academy his goals were probably still the only thing he really cared about.

I definitely don’t believe he dated after the war for like a bijilion reasons, including the ones you mentioned.

When his relationship with Riza changed and he was left feeling SUPER confused internally. So if he did lose her virginity to her after they started working together, there would have been a LOT of mental barriers for him to work through to get to that point.

-

Now when it comes to Riza I’m a little bit more unsure. I do think that it’s entirely plausible for her to have made it out of the academy a virgin and basically go through the same trauma/arc as Roy. But I also think, like Roy, her best shot at having sex would have been during the academy.

Unlike Roy, though, I think her childhood trauma (neglect, abuse, abandonment, etc) may have pushed her to seek comfort and human connection in whatever way she could get it. ( @lantur explored this idea super well in her Delicate btw) I can see a world in which Riza’s desire for love and affection pushed her to explore her sexuality. After Ishval, though, I doubt she continued any sexual activity.

Once she started to have feelings for Roy (or once her childhood crush came back) there was no one she wanted to have sex with more. For her, finally sleeping with him would have been way easier then I think it was for him.

-

And in case anyone is wondering why bother to question the sexual history of blorbos…

I do think it’s worth pointing out that while FMA isn’t sexual in any way, it doesn’t shy away from discussing sexuality as an important part of humanity (ie Lust and Greed).

Plus Roy’s who shtick is being a lazy, himbo, womanizer and it’s canonically proven that 2/3 of that persona is false. I think it’s fair to question if that final third is completely false or just exaggerated. And also the whole part where he grew up around escorts.

Like FMAB doesn’t shy away from opening up a discussion about sexuality as a part of human experience so I think it’s fair to question how the characters in the universe express their sexuality.

Ok hear me out but I can totally see Roy Mustang being a 30 year old virgin

Like we know that he spent at least some of his adolescence in the Hawkeye’s home learning alchemy and I doubt Berthold gave him much free time to cultivate any sort of relationships, except maybe with Riza, but even then she’s four years younger than him so I think their friendship would be limited back then.

Then he goes straight to the military academy where it’s mostly men (I don’t believe we saw any women in the OVA episode and if there were any we can assume there are seperate barracks. We’re also assuming he’s not attracted to men even though I also love and accept bisexual Roy headcanon) and frat laws are enforced so not many options there.

Then it’s straight to Ishval where he gets unbelievably traumatised and comes out so self loathing I doubt he ever even considers the possibility of dating.

Now I hear you say “but he grew up in a brothel!” to which I say EXACTLY! He saw how his aunt and sisters used men’s sexuality as a weakness to exploit and blackmail them, so Roy is very conscious NOT to do that, instead twisting it to make it seem like he’s one of those men when in actuality he’s working with the girls.

Idk how much I actually believe this theory, but it’s definitely plausible. There are also moments where he 10000% had the opportunity to lose his v card (preferably with Riza Hawkeye, who I can very easily make the same argument about) and maybe he took that opportunity, who knows.

He’s also such a nerd I doubt he cared much about dating before the war.

Anyway, regardless I fully believe he’ll never confirm or deny anything, simply to keep the mystery alive.

[moonperil6]

Just Let Me In

Pairing: Leo Valdez x Cold!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1.58k

It’s hard to ignore someone like Leo Valdez. 

He’s constantly in everybody’s face, pulling jokes and pranks like a plea for the tiniest of smiles.

But most often? He’s in your face, teasing you and trying to make you laugh. Most of the time, he grabs whatever book you’re reading and holds it above his head because, as much as you hate to admit, you are the only demigod shorter than him on the Argo ll, and therefore the only one who can’t reach your book. Which is what you were trying to do now.

“Leo,” you growled. “Give it back.”

“Whoa!” Said boy raised his other hand in triumph as he cheered. “Y/N just said four words to me! Did any of you hear that?”

A ripple of laughter echoed through the dining table of the Argo ll, but it seemed to drop dead at Hazel. 

“Leo,” the roman girl said. “Give it to her.”

The Latino whined. “But, Hazel-”

“Now!” 

You knew that tone could never come from someone as sweet as Hazel, so you turned your head toward the voice. 

Frank was standing, hands resting on the table as he glared daggers at Leo. “Give Y/N her book back,” he ordered harshly. “Now.”

Leo glanced from you to Frank, sighing as he decided it wasn't worth it. He handed you back your book, which you accepted without hesitation. You made toward the door without another word, giving Hazel and Frank small nods of gratitude. Well, at least they thought it was gratitude; it was rather hard to tell with you, since you had a permanent frown upon your face.

You marched up the stairs and into your room, slamming the door so hard behind you, it shuddered on its hinges. Leo winced at the noise.

“Too much?” He asked. When no one responded, he sighed. “Too much.”

Piper frowned at him. “That is not the way to get a girl to like you, dumbass.” 

Percy nodded in agreement. “I was stupid, not mean,” he said, gesturing to Annabeth. 

Annabeth snorted. “You sure were, Seaweed Brain,” she teased before returning to seriousness. “Leo, I don’t know why you do this. If you like Y/N, show it in your actions! I mean, we all know you’re too cowardly to admit it straight to her face, so let her guess. She’s cold, not idiotic.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Leo muttered. “Whatever. She’ll never like me now.”

Frank scoffed. You were his best friend besides Hazel, and he was extremely protective of you. He thought of you as a little sister- the daughter of Apollo who preferred throwing knives and daggers to actual archery, and the son of Mars who used a bow rather than a sword. “You think?” He demanded.

Piper shook her head. “We know what you’re like when you’re not being a cocky jackass,” she said.

“Hey!” Leo complained loudly.

“I’m not done yet,” Piper scolded. “As I was saying, I like how you act when you're not being an asshole. I might help you get the girl, Valdez.”

Jason rubbed his eyes. “I’ll leave you two to your scheming,” he said. “I’ve got first watch.”

Annabeth grabbed a pen and notebook, flipping it open to a blank sheet of paper. “If anyone would like to be able to still lie to Y/N’s face about nothing going on behind her back, I’d leave now.” The daughter of Athena cracked her knuckles. “‘Cause shit’s about to go down.”

You flipped a page in your book. The author had just left you on a cliffhanger, and you desperately needed to find out if the main character managed to save the love interest in time or not.

“No,” you muttered when you saw a sticky note adorned with sloppy handwriting was stuck on the page labeled, ‘Chapter Nineteen’. This was supposed to be chapter eighteen! There couldn’t just be a sticky note!

You felt anger bubbling inside you as you read the note. That arrogant little Latino- the nerve to rip out a whole chapter and keep it to taunt you! 

Did your feelings for him change, though? No. You still liked him, and you found that highly annoying.

You glanced around for your diary, surprised when you didn’t see any sign of the notebook. You were sure you’d put it…

Oh, shit.

You stormed out of your room and back down the stairs once again.

The scene at the dining table was not your favorite, that’s for sure. Percy, standing on the table as he read aloud to Annabeth, Piper, and Leo. He kept stumbling over the words as his eyes scanned your diary. 

“Ugh,” Percy read. “I don’t know how I’m going to… surfer- ah! Survive on this boat for much long…er. Leo just won’t stop bugging me, and m-my emotions won’t either!” No one seemed to notice you as you snuck into the room. “How could I like someone who keeps… testing? No. Teasing! That’s it, teasing me.”

Piper squealed, clasping her hands together. “Well, there’s your answer, Leo!” She cried. “Y/N does like you!” 

All of your anger surfaced. “Jackson!” You screeched. 

All heads whipped toward you, and your eyes flicked over everyone, reading them each like a book. 

Percy: Terrified, hoping that Annabeth would get him out of this, but not the slightest bit regretful.

Annabeth: Looking and acting calm, but is actually panicked on the inside. Is this how she loses a best friend? Will Y/N ever forgive her? She’s also very sick of getting Percy out of situations like this, but is already formulating a plan to get her boyfriend out of this mess.

Piper: She’s secretly pleased. She doesn’t want to have to lie to you, not ever.

And Leo… you find him staring at you already, never taking his eyes off you while the others avert their gaze or exchange glances with each other. 

“Perseus Jackson,” you growled. “Give me my diary.”

Percy gave it to you without protest. 

You sulk all the way back to the door, only to turn around when you hear Leo call your name.

The Latino is grinning wickedly. “You think it’s hot when I steal your office supplies?” He asked.

You felt your face flush. “Shut up,” you said, exiting the room, only to hear Leo continue. 

“You like my curls, right? That’s what Percy said. I heard you also like my, and I quote, ‘Beautiful big brown eyes.’ I know you fancy me, Mi alma-”

“Shut up!” You yelled. “Didn’t you hear me the first time, Valdez?” 

Silence.

You stomped back up the stairs and to your room. You locked the door behind you and threw yourself onto your bed. 

It was all ruined. He knew. He knew! It was all over.

You grabbed a pillow and squeezed it with all your might. You wouldn’t cry; you couldn’t feel the tears. But you could crush your sorrows with rage. Yes, you were quite capable of doing that.

A knock.

Your head shot up, your deathgrip on your pillow easing slightly.

“What?” You snap.

“Uh… Y/N?” A voice that sounded suspiciously like Leo’s responded. “Could you maybe… open the door?”

“No.”

“Y/N,” Leo said, deadly serious for the first time since you’d met him. “Open the door.”

“No!”

“We need to talk!”

“No!” You cried, raising your hands to your temples to banish your headache. “No, we don’t. Just go away, Leo.”

“Y/N, please,” the boy begged. “Just let me in.”

You didn’t respond, turning your back to the door.

There was a sigh loud enough for you to hear from the other side of the door. “Okay,” he said. “I didn’t want to do this but… Frank!”

You jumped as a loud bang sounded behind you. You turned your head to glare at the Chinese-Canadian Baby-man that now stood in the doorway. “Frank?” You asked in disbelief. 

“Sorry,” your best friend muttered, rubbing his shoulder as if it hurt. “I was bribed. With bubble tea.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “You’re forgiven. I would’ve done the same.”

Leo popped his head out from behind Frank. “Thanks, big guy,” he said, patting Frank’s arm. “I got it from here.”

Frank gave Leo a look of pure distrust before turning and walking away.

You kept your back turned to Leo as he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Right,” he murmured. “This wasn't how I imagined it would be, but I’ll try my best…”

You felt a tap on your shoulder, but you didn’t look back at him, keeping your eyes trained on the wall in front of you. 

“Y/N… I like you too.”

“Enough,” you said softly.

“What?” Leo asked.

“Enough games. Enough teasing. I don’t need your pity.”

You couldn’t see it, but Leo smiled cheekily at you. “It’s not pity, Mi amor. It’s love.”

He gently grabbed your chin, turning your head to face him. He pressed his lips against yours delicately, as if you might break, might shatter into a million pieces. 

You pulled away first, still scowling. “Alright. You say you really love me, as I love you, but the only way to prove that is by letting me sleep in your room.” You gestured at the splintered remains of your door. “You broke my door.”

Leo grinned. “Correction: Frank broke your door.”

You rolled your eyes. “Correction to your correction,” you said. “You bribed Frank into doing it.”

“Fine. It’s worth it. You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

[badlydrawnmanic]

sonic movie 3 was pretty good BUT

i'm sorry, i can't help but feel disappointed by how gags seemed to take precedence over the plot more often than not, they removed the crucial detail of shadow being an artificial creature rather than naturally born, his unique link / relation to sonic despite never having met him, and the weight present in the ending of SA2 is just... ignored

after i saw the movie i went on at least an hour long monologue to my friend about how fascinating and tragic shadow's story is in SA2 alone much less when you consider the stuff that comes later, and hearing this she said that the movie felt like it was made by someone with about as much sonic knowledge as her (which isn't very much). i said that it felt like the people who made the movie may have played / looked into SA2 before making it, given very direct references and nods to the original title, but like... they stopped playing halfway through when it got serious / hard, like they got bored with it or something. i then had the same monologue with my mom the moment she woke up (sorry mom) because i couldn't sleep i was thinking about how much the ending felt half-baked and what i might've done with the movie series as a whole if i were the one writing

i understand that the target audience is general folks and especially kids, but as an adult super-fan who's been mega into this series since i was 7, it really sucks to see something you love so much not receive the love and care you would have given it after finally making it to a major hollywood production

i wanted to be able to cry going into this film, and i didn't feel... much of anything. some moments were really cool! but then it cuts to a scene of Human Characters Dicking Around For Way Too Long to the point where the other characters are complaining they're bored and it's like. y'all why

i'm not saying it isn't worth seeing, but if you're looking for a faithful adaptation of SA2, specifically with the weight, somber feeling, and finality of the game's end, you aren't gonna get it. probably better if you go into it expecting more comedy than proper action / satisfying story beats

all that and the second post-credits scene... fun fact, shadow wasn't supposed to come back after SA2. he was supposed to die and stay dead. he only came back in sonic heroes because everyone thought he was So Cool and sega delivered, so something about teasing that shadow is still alive feels... off? him coming back in heroes was a genuine surprise and delight for a lot of people and this also took the ending that's supposed to be sad and removed any sort of finality it may have had

metal sonic is cool though, and amy is very cute. wonder what they're gonna do with that for the next film

[lilanette]

My designs for Reverse!Lilanette, drawn by the wonderful vercilla!

While I get what they were going for, the whole emo aesthetic just felt a bit too on-the-nose, so I repurposed the skirt and striped socks design from Marietta instead. I did keep the thorn design from OG Reverse!Marinette's jacket, but I ended up adding it to Marinette's usual flower motif.

Redesigning Lila is always a bit of a challenge, mostly because I actually really like her original design and colour palette. In the end I went for an opposite colour palette for her, green instead of red, and dressed her down so she looked a bit more casual instead of "cool".

Lore rambles under the cut :D

Marinette's characterisation doesn't change much from canon, I like to headcanon that her family is a lot more successful (ofc, canon already states they're renowned in Paris, but in this case it's more akin to the Agreste family's success), and unlike for our Marinette, Tom and Sabine were not as loving of parents and think Marinette's fashion aspirations aren't worth pursuing, so she dresses a lot more boldly to defy their demands of a respectable daughter, especially after the Supreme chose her.

I think, in this AU, Marinette isn't very sociable and doesn't have any friends, though it's mostly through her own choice. Initially, Chloe isolated her, but after Marinette gained the Ladybug Miraculous, she fought back, and due to the Supreme's favour and connections, got away with it. As a result, people are mostly scared of crossing her, and she has a lot more arrogance than our Marinette, because she thinks the power she wields and her favour with the Supreme means she's above everyone else. She's initially very loyal to the Supreme for giving her power, magical and mundane, but will eventually realise the cost of abusing her Miraculous.

Lila in this world I think was already exposed for her lies before coming to Paris, so she's a lot more humble and just trying to stay on everyone's good side. I think she'd be a lot more like the fanon Lila people thought about during the S2 hiatus. She hides a lot of herself in order to be liked and avoid getting into trouble, but a part of her still wants attention and to be accepted, so she doesn't have much of her own opinions on anything.

Lila admires Marinette for being so fearless, and initially tries to cozy up to her in order to win her over as a friend. Marinette isn't having any of this though, but eventually recognises the facade Lila is putting on in order to be liked and feels a tiny bit of kinship for someone who's also putting on a front, and that eventually spirals into something bigger.

I'm still working out exactly how Toxinelle and Griffe Noire operate in their world, so I haven't thought too much about the identity dynamics at play here. I do see Lila eventually joining the Resistance though. Maybe I could make a kamikotised design for her.

[trashogram]

I'm so happy you liked my revision of Striker!!! I'm pretty excited to share my thoughts with you and your followers! ^^

As promised, here is;

Re-Writing Moxxie, Millie, and The Harvest Moon Festival

Moxxie

I don't have that big of an issue with Moxxie's characterization actually. Knowing myself, I would have thought him up the same, if not similarly, as Viv did to contrast Blitzø's wild nature, and Millie would have been the bridge between them (explained in her section).

Moxxie being the 'har har he's such a loser' jokes got old real fast imo. And from what I can tell, the writers actually want him to be the weak link of the chain rather than there being a reason why he keeps screwing up. Blitzø said he saw so much potential in Moxxie, so what's going on there?

We all know his bloody mafia past- which i am planning on keeping (because I'm a whore for mob daddy 😶‍🌫️), so the way I would have written this; it's not that Moxxie is incapable of being the leader or taking care of a hit. Being the so i already told you this, but I would have made it so that Moxxie is actually very capable, and he's got his own bloodlust like Millie (I mean, this is Hell? Who isn't at least a little murderous?). But now that he's escaped his childhood home and abuser, he's so desperate to start anew and to be nothing like Crimson, that he winds up shooting himself in the foot.

When he sets that aside, though, he can be a death machine just as well as Blitzø and Millie. Whenever Millie is in danger and needs help, like in Murder Family and C.H.E.R.U.B., Moxxie is on it. I would have also written in moments in the show where he saves Blitzø as well. Yeah, they may bicker, but that's still the same imp who got him out of his situation, gave him a life worth living, and he met the love of his life through Blitzø. Blitzø is probably his best friend, or at least the closest to one he has outside of Millie.

Also- I would have written Millie and Moxxie as dating in the show, and they get married sometime later... Yes, it is partially for the excuse of animating their wedding 😆 but also, it just feels more right for us to be able to see M&M's relationship grow rather than just get introduced to them as a married couple.

Especially since I think i would have made Moxxie's fretting over Millie doubled. Not just because he's a fretter, but also because he's scared of hurting her or driving her away because of his past. Watching his parents' relationship deteriorate the way it did didn't help him at all with his confidence in love. So at first, he kinda treats Millie so delicately; he tries his hardest to be the perfect gentleman and then some, and he's always worried and protective of her. This is one of the things that Millie and Moxxie would grow as a couple in the series, with Moxxie relaxing around her and realizing that he's put up a front of who he is rather than show his true self. Once Millie gets that through to him, that's when they truly become an unstoppable team and power couple.

Also I think i would have given Moxxie glasses? I've seen a lot of fan redesigns and a couple of them include Moxxie with glasses (i think it correlates to his Greed heritage? Like maybe his glasses resemble that of a bookkeeper? I'm not so sure). And I really like them ☺️ it not just differentiates him from Crimson in physical appearances, but also it just fits him. Maybe the glasses can symbolize Moxxie's character ark through the show (when he tried to hide his true self, he kept his glasses off so he wasn't showing a sign of weakness- something Crimson would have grilled into him. But as he grows more comfortable with his found family, he wears the glasses more and more, showing his true colors).

That and- for you and your OC- If Moxxie had glasses, maybe that's how Hail gets hers? He can tell immediately she needs them, and he 'knows a guy' who can get her her prescription! But he asks her to not tell Blitzø, Millie, or Loona that he himself has a prescription since this would have been before his ark? What do you think?

Millie

I also don't have that big a problem with Millie's character, but seeing your posts about the obvious favoritism made me realize how she's treated like a background character. I'd definitely change that in my revision of this story. Millie and Moxxie are a team, and that needs to be seen in the show, but also that Millie has her own life and character outside of her boyfriend and job.

Now, Millie being the bridge between the boys. She's an absolute unit and isn't afraid to get her hands dirty like Blitzø, but she's got some softer tastes like Moxxie. We got the implication that Millie doesn't actually like musicals in Mission Weeabooboo - I personally just saw it as her not liking that 'depressing french horseshit' musical in particular rather than her not liking them in general. I see her being into musicals like Heather's or Little Shop of Horrors while Moxxie prefers the classical ones like Cats or Phantom of the Opera.

I'd want to make a short that shows M&M spending the day together, and at some point, they're having a lighthearted debate over which musical is better. Later, they both happily kill someone together as a loving assasin couple, which would show that Moxxie has in common with Millie with bloodshed. Basically a day that shows what drew them to each other and what they have in common but also celebrates their differences that make them their own people outside of each other.

But outside, Millie would get more screening on missions (idk about you guys, but that was BS imo how Martha's husband was so easily able to knock her out with a bottle without gaining a scratch). Not just fighting, but also how smart she is. She was an assasin before Blitzø formed the team, and was born and raised on a farm in Wrath. She has to know many skills. Maybe she and Blitzø trained Moxxie and Loona? (Moxxie blushing Millie when she managed to pin him down while teaching him how to be an assasin? 😏).

Also, what happened between her and Cha- nothing, because I'm erasing Chaz's existence from my re-write. There's no reason for him to exist other than to die in Exes and Ooh's. Moxxie and Millie aren't going to have a shared ex in this re-write.

Millie will still have her happy history, and they may still disapprove of Moxxie in my re-write. However, since they are just dating, it's still them getting to know her boyfriend. And I promise, there would be an on-screen acceptance of Moxxie in my re-write. And Millie would have actively stood up for him, rather than just promise him that they'll accept him 'eventually' like she did in the show. (I love my girl, but that was too passive imo. Even if that's her family, they tell still disrespectful to him and their marriage. But I digress-)

But even with her happy history, Millie would pick up on how Moxxie doesn't really talk about his past. I can see her trying to ask once, maybe set up a meet-the-parents date when they've reached a certain point in their relationship. But Moxxie shutting that down politely would have told Millie that it's best not to push it. She's not dumb. She knows that she lucked out with living parents and siblings in Hell. It makes her seeth wondering who could have out such a sweet guy like Moxxie through so much that he can't even bring them up, but she'll respect his wishes. During the Crimson episode, Millie wouldn't have asked "Why haven't I met your pa before?" But instead, "I'll grab Blitzø and we can leave, honey." Before Moxxie, scared for what Crimson might do, tells her it's fine and they enter the house. But Millie right away is off-put by Crimson and all the sharks. (Especially after Crimson kissed her hand and called her a 'pretty thing' in front of her and in the privacy of the dining room. Am I the only one who's wondering why that wasn't acknowledged? I might just be overthinming it though.)

In general, other than giving Millie more time to shine and accentuating hers and Moxxie's shared and separate interests, I think I would have made her the same? Hopefully, I'm not overlooking anything 😅

Oh! And she and Striker know about each other :) they're two of the only imp assasins in Hell, and they grew up in the same ring. They weren't childhood friends or anything, and Millie doesn't know that Striker himself is that mysterious imp assasin thats put a strain on the royals, but they did hear about each others' reputations and are impressed. Millie hopes that they'll one day meet and maybe he can join the team.

The Harvest Moon Festival

The episode is one of the best to me... Yes, a big reason is because our beloved Striker is in it 😆 however, seeing your post about how in both Millie's house and Moxxie's house the focus was on him, it got me thinking about how I would change that.

Striker manages to charm everyone. He even impresses Moxxie in my re-write. That gets flipped on its head, though, when he insults Moxxie in front of Joe and Lin and they just shrug in agreement. He finds himself on Millie's shit list real fast, Moxxie worries himself with gaining Joe and Lin's approval, and it becomes a tense few days as they stay for the Harvest Moon Festival (i would have tried to extend it to a week at most. It seems like the kind of celebration that would be longer than just a day).

At night, though, Millie hears rustling and goes to investigate. Moxxie has been trying to impress her folks this whole time, so he's a bit distracted and exhausted. Millie goes to investigate her childhood home, and she sees signs of Striker being not what he seems. One night, she even catches him awake, and they have an intense stare down. Millie threatens him for ruining what was supposed to be a vacation for Moxxie and making him look bad in front of her folks, "I could kill 'ya right here, and no one would give a shit." And he just returns it with a smirk, "I'd like 'ta see 'ya try, little lady." Before Moxxie or Blitzø interrupts them and everyone has to go back to bed.

So it's Millie that grows suspicious of Striker first and has a vendetta against him. It's not just Moxxie, though; her parents tell her about him- or rather what little they know about him and that pesky habit of his to disappear, and she just knows that something isn't right. It's Millie that investigates and finds the rifle. It's Millie that gets in a tussle with Striker, nearly gets herself killed despite her skill, and Moxxie is the one that rushes to her aide- surprising Striker that this weakling got the better of him- before he gains the upper hand again.

And at the end, when Striker escapes and Lin and Joe find their daughter and Moxxie, they see that she probably would have been dead if it weren't for Moxxie. Granted, they're both in terrible condition, but who knows if they'd still have Millie of Moxxie wasn't there? They finally accept Moxxie, and vow that if Striker ever shows his face again, they'll give him Hell. In Wrath, if you go after someone, you better be prepared to face the rest of their family.

Oh dear, this took WAY longer than I wanted to type out 😅 i hope it's ok? I know i missed some things most likely, and it's not the best re-write. But I hope you like it!

Up next is Blitzø and Loona. And after them, Barbie and Fizz 😊

😩

We are blessed! With more rewrite thoughts!!! Gather round, Fam!

I’m lovin all your rewrites — especially how you weave them together like an actual writer would. Story elements like character, relationships and plot aren’t all isolated from each other like weird SCP creatures but connect to and affect each other as they should.

My fav things:

- Moxxie is competent and not a Butt Monkey

- He has an arc that is followed through and not constantly thrown out then reeled back in like the most frustrating worm on a hook

- Moxxie with glasses is a super cute image (and yes I would adore Hailoxxie where both cuties are glasses-wearers ☺️)

- CHARACTER FOR MILLIE and the fact that the gd Harvest Moon Festival ep revolves around her doing detective work

- Millie and Moxxie developing a relationship based on likes/dislikes, communication, depending on each other, creating memories, etc. Ya know, the way ppl develop relationships in real life

- I agree Millie and Moxxie should’ve been dating then progressed to marriage bc them being a newly married couple literally does nothing for the pair in canon

- Millie defending Moxxie from her parents and Striker

- Chaz hath been deleted 🙏 Praise the lord

It’s literally like you took the asinine and aimless ramblings of canon and created something worth watching! 1000/10 stars for you ⭐️❤️