#come and share the Guardian love

[china-shop]

Sign-ups are now open for the 520 Day Guardian Reverse Exchange 2025!

As the name says, this is a reverse exchange:

You sign up with the kinds of things you enjoy creating.

You choose three writers/artists/fanwork creators via anonymised ads, and make requests of each of them based on what they enjoy creating.

You are assigned one request to create for, based on your offer.

You receive a gift from one of the creators you chose.

Rules/Info | Sign-ups part 1 (offers) NOW OPEN

This year’s schedule

Sign-ups part 1 - offers: closes 11:59PM UTC on Friday 28 March (What time is that for me?)

Sign-ups part 2 - requests: Saturday 29 March - Friday 4 April

Assignments out: Wednesday 9 April at the latest

Deadline: Tuesday 13 May

Work reveals: Tuesday 20 May (there is no anon period)

Sign-ups are on Dreamwidth, but you don’t need a Dreamwidth account to participate. Assignments will be sent by email. Your gift must be posted to the AO3 collection.

[spellmage]

whoever was in charge of writing the guardian did such a good job they are so !!!!!

maybe the manipulation is getting me

but also it’s not even just the writing it’s also the direction in how they’re acted is so like ?? calming and low-key,, but like obviously the things they’re saying are NOT but the way that they’re saying them makes it feel that way

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[nohoney]

bakugou is submissive to you, but in a way that a guardian dog is submissive to the livestock it protects.

he watches over you with sharp eyes, keeps a protective arm around your shoulders or his palm is warm at the small of your back to guide you along. you deserve to be happy and relaxed, doted on and coddled—the need to spoil you rotten has sunk its claws into bakugou’s heart and hasn’t released him since he had started to love you.

and he wouldn’t want to be released anytime soon.

the best feelings he’s experienced have been because of you. bakugou has been happy since he’s been with you so he wants to protect this little life that he’s built around you. so it means watching out for you, being a little on edge when he senses danger, and on more than one occasion—

“fucking asshole!! you could have died!”

risking his life for you.

he’s in the hospital, getting stitches by his brow bone, unapologetic that he saved you from debris almost crushing you but getting scraped just a bit. it’s nothing really, he’s been through worse but bakugou also revels in how you fret over him too. you don’t have the same strength to protect him, but the love you carry rivals his. and even in your affection for one another, he still wants to be number one in that regard.

he swears that he loves you more than you love him.

after all, look at how he is willing to bleed for you. to risk his body so that no harm comes to you at all. and if it weren’t for the credo of a hero, even kill for you.

“c’mere baby, needta see if you’re all fine.” bakugou croons to you after he’s all patched up by the nurse and his primary doctor has given him the a-okay to check himself out.

“katsuki, of course i’m okay! you’re the one that almost got -“ your voice chokes and tears rim the edges of your eyes. he can’t help but adore how you worry over him. you’re in perfect condition, save for your anxiety over your pro-hero boyfriend, and all he wants to do is sink into the bed he shares with you and fall asleep.

he does allow you to be in the driver’s seat and he takes the passenger seat for the drive home, a very rare occurrence since bakugou insists that he be the one driving you anywhere and everywhere. he hums passively at your reprimands—katsuki, please be careful or think a little more of me, would you!

“i will not be left alone in this world, do you understand me? do not get yourself fucking killed!”

and he embraces you in the privacy of a little place called home with you, swearing that he can’t promise to not ever get hurt but that he’s always going to protect you first.

[nopoodles]

I also share a bunch of stuff related to my published worlds for free (short story after short story set with the characters and/or in the universe, as well as deleted scenes), so please don't think I'm trying to disagree with you at all.

And also, when you get to the ending of Sugar Vladdy, if you wanted to (and had the time, space, mental and physical energy - these things are complex).

My instinct is to say you could offer it as a pod paperback for people who want a printed copy (in my mind you're making it explicitly clear that it's the fanfic and has only been though proofing and since it's just for fans that already exist you could probably do a "boring" title only cover, idk, impulsive desire to share thoughts)

What are your thoughts on authors writing and posting fanfiction of their own work? Do you think being self published vs traditionally published makes a difference? I tried searching around about the topic before but found nothing conclusive, other than the statement, "if you're the owner of the work, you might as well make more money off of it," which doesn't sit right with me.

I mean, I'm quite (in)famously writing an AU fic of my own work (Sugar Vladdy) purely for fun and because Tumblr has a unique ability to pilot my lack of impulse control like the ADHD version of Ratatouille.

Numerous people have told me they'd buy Sugar Vladdy if I ever decided to make it into a proper book. Frankly, I'm not interested in that because my motives for writing Hunger Pangs vs. Sugar Vladdy were different.

Writing for profit vs writing for fandom occupy different spaces in my brain. They scratch different itches. Yes, I'm playing around with the same characters. But I'm sort of just treating it like enrichment in my enclosure. It lets my brain throw around all the ideas that wouldn't work for those characters within the canon universe but still likes to go, "Oh, but what if..."

Honestly. No idea how much of that is my ADHD or what, but that's the only way I can explain it. They're the same, but they're not. They're fun in different ways. And I can get away with it because I'm self-pub. I haven't sold the rights to anyone. The world and characters are mine. I can put my blorbos into situations if I want to.

Now, if I were trad-pub, there would probably be a lot of restrictions about what I can and cannot do surrounding my own characters because I've sold the rights for X amount of time. I couldn't just give things away. It might be considered a breach of contract if I did. It'd definitely be something I'd need to run by an agent first just to make sure.

As for not liking the "might as well make money off it" mindset, as a literal struggling writer who lives paycheck to paycheck, I'm not going to judge anyone who keeps their official work as for profit only. People deserve to be paid for their labor. If they/we want to create stuff away for free, that's up to us.

Would I personally find it stifling and joy-killing to only ever write for profit? Yes. But that's a me thing. Not a universal thing.

[prompt-heaven]

the ultimate list of AUs, kinks and tropes to inspire you for kinktober 

some of these are darker in nature since that is fitting for the spooky season. 

AUs

academic / teacher / professor / tutor 

addams family

babysitter / nanny

bartender

biker

bodyguard

bonnie and clyde

bounty hunter

boxer 

camp counselor

circus / carnival

cult 

demon / angel

fairytale retelling

fantasy 

farmer

firefighter

guardian angel 

historical 

hybrid

mafia / mob 

magic 

maid / butler 

mechanic 

modern 

monster / mythology / supernatural

paranormal investigator 

pirate / mermaid

post-apocalyptic

priest

prison

rockstar 

royalty

serial killer

sex worker / porn / camgirl/boy / stripper 

slasher

soulmate

spy / secret agent

steampunk / cyber punk

sugar daddy

tattoo artist 

time travel

treasure hunter 

vampire

werewolf 

wild west

TROPES

a/b/o

against a wall 

age gap

amnesia / memory loss

anonymous sex

balcony sex

boss x employee 

brothers best friend / dad’s best friend (dbf)

car sex

cheating

clothed sex

comforting sex

coworkers to lovers

cursed / fuck or die / sex pollen

dark / soft!dark

enemies to lovers

exes to lovers

fake relationship

forbidden romance

friends to lovers

friends with benefits

game gone wrong

hate sex / make-up sex

huddle for warmth

just the tip

library sex

loss of virginity

mirror sex

neighbours to lovers 

only one bed

opposites attract

period sex

pool / hot tub sex

predator / prey

professor x student

public / semi-public sex

revenge sex

reverse harem

romantic sex

roommates to lovers

rough sex

seduction

sex in an alley

sex in exchange for a favour

sex while camping

shower / bath sex

stalker

stepcest

table sex

unrequited love

yandere

KINKS

aftercare

anal 

begging

being recorded / taking pictures

body worship

dom / sub / bondage / bdsm / shibari

breath play / choking

cheating

cockwarming

corruption kink 

costumes / uniforms

creampie / breeding / forced breeding

cuckolding

cum in panties

cumplay

cunnilingus / face sitting / rimming / blowjob / deep throating / gagging

dacryphillia

dirty talk / voice kink

double penetration / double penetration in one hole 

dry humping / thigh riding 

dubcon / noncon / cnc / drugging

dumbification

exhibitionism / voyeurism

fingering

fisting

flashing 

food play 

footjob 

forced orgasm

formal wear 

free use

glory hole

glove kink 

hand kink

handjob 

hole inspection

humiliation / degradation

hunter / prey

impact play / spanking / whipping / hair pulling / pain kink

jealousy / sharing / possessive

knife kink / gun kink

lingerie / stockings / socks

massage

masturbation / caught masturbating / mutual masturbation

medical kink

monsterfucking / tentacles

multiple orgasms

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

threesome / orgy / gangbang

partner swap 

pegging

piercings

pillow humping

praise kink 

premature ejaculation / cuming untouched

pussyjob

roleplay

role reversal

ruined orgasm / cuming without permission

sensory deprivation 

sexting / phone sex 

facial / swallowing / bukakke

size kink / size difference / belly bulge

skirt stays on

somnophilia / getting fucked to sleep

spit kink

squirting

stripping / lap dance

teasing 

temperature play

thigh fucking

throat training

titty fucking

toys / object insertion 

OTHER PROMPTS

a ritual gone wrong 

a string of unexplained deaths

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

alian abduction 

art come to life

basement wife 

being paralysed 

blackmail 

caught trespassing on private property

college party gone wrong

crazy ex

curiosity killed the cat

fate worse than death

final girl

getting stranded in a little town that’s not as wholesome as it seems

ghostface

halloween party

haunted house / abandoned house 

haunted object 

hitch-hiking gone wrong

hot neighbour that has an obsession with you

i was sent here to assassinate you but now i think i might be in love with you

Items moving and/or going missing

i’ll find you in every universe / century

kidnapping

lost in a maze

mad scientist 

magical healing 

marriage / wedding / arranged marriage/ forced marriage 

mind control / telepathy

mirrors playing tricks on the mind

oh, you had a long day? use me as your personal sex toy in order to unwind

oops, i summoned a demon 

oops, i’m dating a serial killer

playing games (like seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, hide and seek, etc.) but they have a slutty/dark twist to them

possession (ghost or demon)

power outage

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

road trip

secret room

serial killers fucking in front of hostages

stalker landlord

stalker wearing the same costume as your partner 

stockholm syndrome

the return of a villain thought dead

torture

toxic frat boy

waking up from strange dreams and seeing bruises and marks on your skin that correspond exactly with the dream you just woke from

we’re the last people on the planet and you will be mine

you wake up strapped to a table just as a fuck machine is turned on

[miyaz6ki]

──── day 2: dnd on the hotel door.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. wherein your friends give him.. more than just suggestive photos at your wedding. (you had a private boudoir photoshoot prior to it!)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich, neuvillette, zhongli, tartaglia, capitano x gn!afab!reader. !!NSFW/SUGGESTIVE CONTENT!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. saw a cute tt of this exact topic (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) will do diff characters next week!

kinich who'd already been so nervous for whatever was to come on this day; he was always more than willing. he knew the first laugh you both shared. the first kiss you both partook in, not everyone he's kissed had such a long-lasting impact on him, that's if he ever kissed anyone at all (that wasn't you.)

it wasn't all that special he said, but everything you've ever wanted in a wedding was there. he remembered what flowers you'd always pluck from the grounds you traveled on. or the colors that always had your eyebrow twitching just hearing the first letter of the pigment's name.

the venue wasn't necessarily small either, borrowing whatever he could in his homeland to make it perfect, even going as far as to asking others for help on what to embellish the locale in.

for as long as you've known him- kinich wasn't much of a romantic. letting you take the lead instead, switching up occasionally by spooning you alternatively. but you remembered he'd always laid his head atop your chest, from the nightmares of his own past, and regrets; he found peace in listening to your heartbeat, and feeling your torso heave slowly.

he wanted to make you feel special today & tonight. so he wants to do it right at least. he tried to fluster you in a way that you'd be surprised, aware he wasn't very amorous.

or at least that's what was in his point of view because you had a whole other plan ready for him. but you didn't know about the surprises he'd throw either.

the whole theme of the wedding was based on his tribe, encased with traces of your own home/favorite colors.

but something that you'd see as a surprise this afternoon was kinich's suit. it wasn't the usual black suit and tie. no- he wore.. your initial around his neck, and his tie was the color of your eyes.

you felt your eyes water a little, walking down the aisle, your arm entangled with the guardian who's been with you since day one. (or whoever you'd like!)

after the classic bouquet toss, and squealings later. you told your newly-wed husband your bridesmaids had a surprise for him. he didn't think much of it; meeting them before, they seemed nice enough. (one of them is mualani btw :3)

mualani who stands beside kinich briefly for the picture, she hands him a polaroid photo from the photographer's kamera. "what is-" he gets cut off, his face turning to playfully sour until it slowly changes to his usual stoic behavior (he doesn't know his face is turning redder by the second)

"you.. hmm." he awkwardly nodded after another picture was taken of his reaction, cheeks aflame; the picture was still so clear in his mind. now it couldn't get out!

the mental image of your body in frilly lace/in nothing but a blanket over you, a simple layer of clothing that stopped him from seeing your bare body- fuck he could feel himself get hard already.

and the more time that passed, progressing with each photo being taken, the worse his boner got. shit he can't believe you're his. and he's damn well lucky to have you.

even as he stood idly, talking to some of the guests, some more of the bridesmaids came up to him, handing him more scenes for him to visualize in his head.

"ahh.. may i excuse myself from this conversation?" he politely bows and walks away to where you were. the eventide's stellar in the sky definitely wasn't shining each time he saw you. oh there it is- that laugh he always loved and fell in love with again each time he heard it.

"pretty.. ahh.. there's something i.. need help with."

kinich who's already in your newly bought home, hurriedly stripping you of your clothes, ready to devour you and eat your cunt out to his content.

kinich who could only palm his erection, as his mouth latched onto your wetness was already waiting for him. your taste, how it smelled, how your slit was already so wet for him- you knew what you were doing. and it worked really damn well.

neuvillette who was already nervous, throughout the proposal, even you relationship before being fiancees, I mean, it was you, why wouldn't he be worried? he was ready to jump off a cliff if anything went wrong if he'd tell the truth, but he'd never say that.

neuvillette who sighed with relief, the days of worrying that something bad might happen to you on your special day with him. taking pictures with the bridesmaids for the wedding's little picture book for you to look back on soon, and maybe even for your kids to look at and call you both corny for.

neuvillette who suddenly received 3 photo frames from 3 of your bridesmaids, confused as he took a look at it, he could only feel the rush of warmth crawling up from his neck to his ears. his horns grew the more he looked into the photos.

"w- where did you get this?" he observed the room shyly, looking for any signs of you, why? to help him out with 'something' of course. no one could take care of it better than you did.

they simply shrugged and walked away, whispering and chuckling to each other. awkwardly walking to find you, pulling you to the side, inside one of the venue's main buildings, bringing you into one of the bedrooms.

"you didn't need to tease me like this." you were pinned to the bed once the wedding ended. the painful boner you had caused hadn't gone away, even now, throbbing, missing where it's supposed to be (inside you)

ripping your wedding dress off your body (not really, just making sure you get out of it without ruining it), he couldn't wait to fill you with his seed. he wanted to see personally if you could take all of him in. he could only caress the very rim of your hole, teasing you with his fingers before he would finally split you apart with his cock.

from the amount of time, he's been alive, his stamina would be unmatched, so it'd be entirely up to you for how long you wanna do this :)

it felt as if he was such a meanie, but his words were different- praising you, and gently holding your wrists in place. it didn't quite match the pace of his cock drilling itself inside you though, it felt deep, and it looked as if the night has barely even started. oh well.

zhongli had never thought of the idea of marriage until he overheard you speaking about it with a few of your friends. it wasn't you necessarily hoping he'd propose, but you were the only one within the group of four to have not been married yet!

he knows you'd never leave him for another, but adding a ring to your pretty little hand definitely would tell all the other men and women alike who try to hit on you to say everything for him.

the wedding was more than just a delight, it was planned to the very smallest of details. it was beautiful, even on a budget of somewhat a lot but not too much; it made sure to shine brighter than most of the stars that night.

before he could sweep you into his arms, and take you upstairs into the home you both chose out before the wedding; some of your bridesmaids, along with your maid of honor had handed him a book.

they said nothing but laughed and walked away to the food section, looking through the book and oh wow.

he hadn't learned what a boudoir was but he definitely enjoyed what he was seeing now. flipping through the pages, staying to the side so no one else could see what was happening. he'll have to ask you about that lingerie set later, white definitely complimented you..

"s'dirty.. you tease me like this, even on our special day? mmmf.." you sat down on his cock, as he showed you off in the mirror. the same lingerie set you wore in the photo book was already ripped off your body, and on the floor. geo marks that scattered, covering most of his arms caressed your thighs that trembled.

his strong arm ran over your body, carefully exploring every inch of you that he could. the thought of being legally, and weddedingly(?) yours. you have his last name now.

he could only imagine how much more pleasure he'd want to give you throughout tonight. he could only praise you for taking him so well, watching you try and use his cock for your own, but he's too big :(.

tartaglia who introduced you with pride to his family after proposing. but watching you treat his little sister and brother so well.. oh he had to get you pregnant.

but for now, he'd put those thoughts to the side, and enjoy his and your special day, no lust, just love.

you had other plans though. and he wasn't gonna complain.

a couple of your bridesmaids took pictures with him for the futurity of the book of photos for his siblings to look through as well. but after each photo, they all handed him Polaroids.

"what's this?" he looked at them confusedly, but all they did was "just look at it!" "you won't regret it!" and boy he sure did not!!! ssshit just covered in a blanket, no nothing underneath? you wanna get fucked tonight?

he pushed you against the wall of the master bedroom. "mmm.. w'na try to get me hard like that again in public, and I'm gonna do a looott worse than tonight, baby."

the ring on your finger he saw as your hand held onto the wall while he stripped you- he couldn't help but let out a loud as hellll groan. even when he held you down to the bed, he made sure to kiss the jewelry on your finger that meant you're his for life.

while you ride him, his eyes are always on the necklace that has his initials on it, watching it bounce up and down on your chest. for the longest time; he was foreign to the idea of even a relationship, let alone getting to marry someone. but he was gonna make sure you'll feel what he couldn't express throughout time.

when he's soo obsessed with nutting inside you, he holds your hips down onto his, making sure not a drop will be wasted. he could already imagine what your kids with him would look like.

capitano who preferred a more quiet wedding. one between simple friends, and I guess co-workers (he was against it but you invited them anyway.)

so in this sense, columbina, arlecchino, and signora had agreed to accompany you as your bridesmaids. tsaritsa also agreed to bless your wedding (because she agrees that you are strong, mentally, and physically, and give capitano something to look forward to, unlike before.)

i guess the others attended (most attended just to say congrats and leave, pierro was best man)

accompanying you down to a glass garden house nearby the venue you chose out, but before he could proceed, your three bridesmaids stopped him. cheeky smiles on signora, and columbina's lips- arlecchino handed him a book.

"they want you to have this." the fourth harbinger states, leaving with the two ladies simply giggling and walking off, opposite sides of arlecchino.

he questioningly opened the book while about to walk back to you but oh. wow.

as he catches up to you, he's still a bit flustered, but quickly composed himself once more. "are.. you trying to tease me, kitten?"

and as much as he hasn't had any experience in a long while, oh boy is he ready to find out if he still got it or not

but capitano never knew he'd be so turned on to think about what real married life had to offer.. like kids. he knew he couldn't necessarily have them since he's a harbinger, but a man can dream, right?

anyways he's already pulling your hair from behind, while he has you doggy style on the mattress. I don't know cause I get the feeling he would.

a tight hold onto the strands of your hair. "fffuck.. this is what you get for looking so fuckin' hot.." he groans.

even so when he isn't fucking your pussy with sloppy thrusts from behind- he's fingering you with his long fingers that make you go wild.

he does take note that his fingers are pretty long, so he's pretty careful when it comes down to that.

you sitting on his lap while he admires you in the mirror, watching how you reacted to simply him adding another digit inside your hole, as another hand held onto your left hand, caressing the ring that binded you to him. he couldn't be happier!

[wondergotham]

You Look Like You Love Me

Request: “can you make a joaquin torres imagine where sam basically raised you and was your father figure. after some time, you grow up and then joaquin comes into the picture. we meet and fall in love blah blah blah. please!!”

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader

Warning: Mentions of blood & death

Your father’s name was Riley. Riley Y/L/N. He was a pararescue for the Air Force and your Uncle Sam’s best friend.

They were both selected to be test pilots for the EXO-7 Falcon.

Tragically, your father was killed during the mission by an RPG.

Your Uncle Sam ended his Air Force service after this and was left with guilt and turmoil. Even though there was nothing he could've done it still haunted him.

You were 12 years old, left without both of your parents.

Your mom passed away a few days after she gave birth. You never met her, but you had many memories of your father and Uncle Sam.

Sam had known you his whole life.

He was there when your father told him he was going to be an uncle, he was at the hospital after your mother gave birth, when your father asked him to be your godfather…..and so on.

He was there for you both. Even years later.

So when Riley died he knew he couldn't let the government take you away. Not when he knew he could raise you.

He was going to keep his best friend's promise.

Sam knew he would never be able to raise you the way Riley and your mom would have. But he could try. And maybe he would need Sarah’s help…but he knew he could do it.

He had to. For his best friend.

“Sam, you have to promise me, brother, if something happens to me you'll take care of Y/n.”

Not a day goes by that Sam doesn’t think about what his best friend told him.

He remembers it clear as day.

The hand Riley placed on his shoulder and how he stared into his soul. It’s almost as if he knew something would happen to him.

Sam was taken aback. He was going to throw in a joke but his best friend's expression said it all.

He was serious.

It was Sam's turn to place his hand on Riley's shoulder. "Riley. I promise you I will protect and take care of Y/n. She's my goddaughter, my family, you can always count on me."

Riley nodded.

"Thank you Sam. My little girl and I are lucky to have you in our lives."

After that moment everything happened so fast. Riley's funeral, you receiving the burial flag, his will being read.

Riley Y/L/N was known for his infectious laughter and unwavering loyalty to those he loved. He had a vibrant life filled with adventure, but his greatest joy was being a father to you, his spirited daughter.

The bond you shared was unique, filled with bedtime stories, impromptu dance parties, and countless adventures in the backyard.

As you approached your 12th birthday, your father began to ponder about the future. He wanted to ensure that should anything happen to him, you would be safe and cared for.

After much reflection, he decided to draft his will, a task that was daunting but necessary.

"In the event of my death, I designate my best friend, Samuel Thomas Wilson, as the legal guardian of my daughter, Y/n Y/l/n. I trust him to provide her with love, guidance, and the support she deserves."

Riley signed the document with a sense of peace, knowing that Sam would be a steadfast guardian. They had always been there for each other, navigating life's storms side by side.

Sam was a natural choice, someone who understood his values and shared his dreams and love for you.

Sam, standing at the front of the court, felt a ripple of emotions. He had always known how much Riley loved you, and now he was entrusted with your future.

Despite the overwhelming sadness, he felt a sense of purpose ignite within him. He stepped forward, his heart heavy but determined. He looked at the judge.

"I promise to honor Riley's wishes," He affirmed, his voice steady. "Y/n will always have a home with me. I will be there for her, just as Riley would have wanted."

With that promise, Sam embraced his new role as your guardian. He moved you into his and Sarah's home, surrounded by memories that felt both comforting and heart-wrenching.

The first few weeks were challenging; you were still grappling with your grief, and Sam was navigating the complexities of parenthood.

In the months that followed the house was filled with laughter and love. Sam made sure to keep your father's memory alive, sharing stories of their adventures and teaching you the values your father held dear.

You both shared stories of him, laughing and crying as you remembered the man who had brought you two together.

One evening, as you both sat together on the porch, you looked up at Sam, your eyes filled with uncertainty. “Do you think Dad is watching over us?” You asked.

Sam nodded, his heart aching for your loss. “I believe he is. And I think he wants us to be happy, and continue living our lives to the fullest. He loved you so much Y/n. I know I'm not your dad sweetheart but I promise you will always be safe and loved. I will always be here for you, okay?"

"I know Uncle Sam. You know, my dad loved you too. He always said you were the brother he never had. He said something about you and him being the less rich version of Dr. Dre and Eminem."

Sam snorted before throwing his head back with laughter.

"Yeah, that sounds like your father."

As the months turned into years, Sam encouraged you to pursue your interests, from academics to sports, always reminding you that you were capable of achieving your dreams.

Though your father was gone, the love he had instilled in your lives continued to thrive, a testament to friendship, family, and the enduring power of love.

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

Now several years later your bond was stronger than ever. After a lot of hesitation and lectures, Sam let you become an Avenger.

He knew your father would have wanted that for you. You both shared the passion to protect and help people.

You joined the Avengers when Tony brought Peter to the airport battle in Germany. (Not that you remember, because you didn't anymore)

Since then you've been helping the world and your Uncle/Godfather as Y/H/N. (Your hero name)

Earlier Sam received a call from President Ross. He was sending the both of you and Joaquin to Oaxaca, Mexico for a mission.

Luckily your uncle had been working with Joaquin for 3 years now so you were able to spend more time on the field kicking ass instead of being behind the computer.

Those days were long gone.

Sam did this because he still was hesitant about you joining on some missions. Despite the fact that Tony, Natasha and Steve continued to train you after Thanos had snapped half of the population away.

Your Uncle was one out of the many gone but you were left untouched. You had to live 5 years without the man that had became a second father to you.

To make a long story short you were a completely different person when Sam came back. You were all grown up.

You were a stronger, quicker, and more skilled fighter. But in the years that Sam was gone you also managed to set up a foundation named after your father.

The Riley Y/L/N Foundation, there was also a scholarship named after him and an award. Sam could not be more prouder. You had done great things in the time that he was gone.

He liked to believe him and Riley raised you well.

Now when it came to boys, Sam was definitely overprotective. He said,"No dating until you're 30." But that obviously wasn't going to happen.

Sure you had a few crushes here and there but they never became anything more.

Sam was certain he wouldn't have to worry about any guy coming into your life until he realized how big of a crush Joaquin had on you.

He did everything he could to delay the moment when you two would meet.

Today, it was out of his control.

Sam walked in first and you followed next to him.

As you step into the room, you feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Your attention is immediately drawn to Joaquin.

You feel a rush of anticipation. He’s cute, you think, noticing the way he fidgets slightly—a sign of his own nerves.

It makes you feel strangely comforted, as if you’re both navigating this moment together.

As Joaquin stands by, he feels a flutter of nerves in his stomach when he first sees you enter the room.

Wow, he thinks, she’s stunning.

You’re wearing a simple but beautiful dress under your white blazer that catches the light just right, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

His heart races as he notices the way your hair falls softly around your shoulders, framing your face.

"Joaquin?" Sam snapping his fingers instantly made the young man to look up at him.

Oh God it's bad, Sam thought.

"Sorry, you were saying?" He shook his head trying to refocus. There's no way he just made a fool of himself in front of you already.

The small giggle that escapes your lips is like music, and Joaquin can’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread through him.

"I want you to meet my niece and goddaughter Y/n L/n also known as-"

"Y/H/N." Joaquin finished.

"She's going to be joining us on the mission today."

You caught the way he froze like a deer in headlights but found it adorable.

What if she doesn’t like me? The thought flickers through Joaquin's mind, but it quickly fades as he recalls your smile.

This must be what they mean by love at first sight, he muses, a mix of excitement and disbelief washing over him.

He feels his cheeks heat up, wishing he could muster the confidence to say something without stumbling over his words.

Just be yourself, he reminds himself, taking a deep breath.

As you move closer, he prepares himself, ready to embrace whatever magic might come from this first meeting.

He takes a steadying breath, feeling both excitement and anxiety swirling in his stomach.

Finally, gathering his courage, he steps forward, his heart pounding like a drum. His step feels monumental, he knows he can’t let this chance slip away.

“Hey, I’m Joaquin, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm a huge fan of your work both on and off the field."

He extends his arm waiting for you to shake his hand. You feel a warmth spread through you.

His voice might be a bit shaky, but there’s an earnestness in his words that captivates you.

"Especially with everything you have done to preserve your father's legacy. It's incredible.” He smiles, his voice slightly shaky but warm, hoping to convey his genuine interest.

He’s different, you think, appreciating how he seems genuinely interested in you.

When your hand finally meets his he swears he could have flatlined in that moment. Your hand is small but soft with a gentle yet firm grip.

Your eyes sparkle with curiosity. “Thank you Joaquin that's very sweet of you I really appreciate it. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, I've heard a lot about you.”

The moment your eyes lock, a spark ignites within him. He feels an electric connection, as if the world around you has faded into the background.

You feel a spark—a sense of possibility.

Could this be something special? The thought comes through your mind, making your heart race even faster.

You find yourself leaning in, drawn to his sincerity and charm. It's so easy to talk to him.

For the first time in a while, you feel giddy and hopeful about what might unfold between you both.

"All good things I hope." Joaquin chuckles nervously.

"And nothing but, I promise." You wink.

Dios mío, he thinks.

For a split second one of Joaquin's knees gives in but he quickly recovers by standing back up straight.

It went unnoticed to you as you glanced at your phone but not to Sam.

In that moment, Joaquin feels a rush of hope. Maybe this is the start of something special.

He realizes that this simple conversation is not just a moment; it’s the beginning of a connection he’s been yearning for.

"Okay sweetheart let me show you where you can put your gear. We're gonna be taking off soon." Sam wraps his arm around your shoulder leading you away.

You nodded excitedly looking at Joaquin before following your uncle, "I'll see you later Joaquin."

"Yeah, of course." He smiles.

Sam looks at him mouthing a no and shaking his finger before walking out with you.

Joaquin just chuckles quietly.

He can’t help but feel a sense of excitement about this unexpected connection. He enjoyed the small moment, already imagining the laughter and adventures you might share in the future.

Little did he know, you were doing the same.

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

A/N:

If you use the page break above give credits. Thank you.

[zarameraki]

˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆 ˖°🕷️𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 single dad x nanny 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 shower sex 𖥔 bj 𖥔 certified pussy eater 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 2.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: wrote this one a while ago and decided it was time to get it out of the drafts. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

“After the prince and his princess defeated the scary, ancient dragon, their kingdom lived happily ever after.”

With a smile, you closed the storybook, glancing over at Megumi, peacefully asleep in his crib. Your fingers brushed against his velvety cheeks before you tucked him in snugly and quietly left his room.

The jingle of keys echoed through the air. 

Toji stepped into the apartment, his appearance dishevelled and weary of another demanding day at the construction site. He shed his hefty boots and lumbered into the living room. Catching sight of you, a faint grin settled on his lips. “He asleep?”

“The dragon story always knocks him out cold.” You took his bag and set it down by the couch as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the bar stools. “Long day?” 

“Too fucking long.” He yanked open the fridge door, retrieving a container of leftover pasta and a beer. You joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can for him. “One of the machines decided to call it quits halfway through. Spent hours waiting for the mechanics to patch it up before we could even think of wrapping up the foundation.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Zenin.” Your gaze shifted to the scattered construction toys that Megumi often indulged in. “With tomorrow being the weekend, maybe you could take some time to unwind and spend quality time with Megs.”

Toji let out a derisive snort as he warmed up his food. “Always appreciate you looking out for us, sweetheart.” 

“Hey, babysitting is my job.”

He took the beer can from your hand and affectionately pinched your cheek. You grinned with your nose scrunching up. “My paycheck isn’t gonna be here until next week. Is it cool if I can pay you a little late? I’ll double it to make up for it.” 

“Nah, you’re good. I can wait. Megumi’s my favourite little client.” You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jeans as Toji grabbed his dinner and brushed past you. “Jesus, Mr. Zenin. You smell like cement.” 

“Cut me some slack, kid.” 

“I’m twenty-two. Not a kid.” 

“If you’re younger than me”—he jabbed his fork in your direction—“you’re still a kid. Capiche?” 

“Eating pasta doesn't grant you Italian citizenship,” you teased. He rolled his eyes as you snatched your backpack. “Well, I’ll see you Monday evening, then.” 

“Leaving so soon?” 

You quirked a brow and raised your phone. “It’s ten in the evening.” 

“That’s early. Come on, stay and grab a bite. Wanna share?” 

Your stomach rumbled in agreement. And hey, a little extra time with Toji wouldn’t be the worst thing. Among all the parents, he was the only one you felt at ease being around late at night. He felt more like a good friend than just another guardian.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You set down your bag and snagged an extra fork, sliding onto the stool beside him. He placed the container between you two, ensuring you got enough of your separate fill.   

“Your feeding your fucking hair, sweetheart,” he commented, collecting your hair back. His fingers brushed over the side of your neck making it hard for you to swallow. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly gathering your hair into a ponytail. Toji continued to chew slowly, his gaze fixed on you. “What?” 

“You always had a mole there?” He pointed below your jaw where a prominent beauty mark tattooed your skin. 

“I’m offended that you’ve just noticed now.” 

He finished chewing. “You don’t tie your hair up often.” 

“Would you like me to?” You twirled your spaghetti around your fork.

“I like your hair down,” he admitted, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “But maybe not while we’re eating. Don’t want them getting dirty.” 

You rolled your eyes and took a large bite, cheeks puffing out as you chewed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Toji grumbled, swiping away the speck of tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth. His tongue darted out to clear it, followed by another swipe of his hand. The tomato sauce probably matched the colour of your skin from that gesture. “Ever thought about hiring a nanny for yourself?” 

“No, but I might have someone to take care of me in a month.” 

Toji paused and dragged his eyes towards you. “Who?” 

“Just a boy from my class,” you replied nonchalantly, poking your fork in the meatball. “He’s cute, sure. Plus, he’s a hockey player. Basically the epitome of the perfect, conventional, bring-home-to-mom-and-dad kind of guy.”

Toji took a deliberate sip of his beer. “If that’s what you’re into.”

“You say it like you’re an expert on my taste.”

“I’ve known you for a year, darling. You never struck me as someone who’d go for a poster boy.” 

“Then who do you think I’d go for?” you asked softly. Green eyes locked with yours in a tense silence. “Since you seem to have me all figured out.”

Toji stole a quick glance at your lips, then darted his eyes toward the door of his son's bedroom. He fought back the surge of temptation bubbling up inside him, tightening his grip on the beer can in his hand. “Maybe I haven’t gotten to know you well enough.” He went to take a bite but you quickly interrupted by grasping his hand and guiding his fork toward your mouth. 

With the spaghetti twirled around it, you brought it to your lips, savouring the taste as you chewed slowly, all the while locking eyes with his emerald gaze. He observed your throat as you swallowed, his attention now fully magnetised by your flushed face.

As you licked the sauce from the corners of your lips, and wrapped your mouth around your thumb to clean it, Toji’s pulse quickened. “I’m an open book for you, Mr. Zenin.” You rose from your seat, reaching for your backpack. He couldn't tear his gaze away, transfixed by the sight of your ass. “Have a wonderful time beating yourself off to my pictures tonight.” 

Toji’s gaze flickered to his undeniable bulge straining against his jeans, a curse slipping past his lips. Downing his beer as you moved away, he pushed off the stool, closing the distance with a predatory grace, catching you in the middle of tying your shoelaces.

Your eyes widened as he backed you against the door, trapping your arms above your head. His knee insinuated itself between yours, his breath hot against your lips as he snarled. 

“He’s made dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant next week,” you whispered. “Unless you don’t want me sharing pasta with him like it’s a fucking Disney movie, I suggest you kiss me now, Toji.” 

“God, that fucking mouth of yours.” A broad smile appeared at his lips as he pressed them hungrily against yours. Your body responded instinctively, grinding against his thigh in a desperate plea for more. Toji’s grip on your wrists loosened, his hand finding its way to your face, driving his tongue inside your mouth and flicking it against yours. 

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held onto your ass. Lost in the intoxication of your overdue kiss, Toji maintained some semblance of awareness, urgently guiding himself into the bathroom, where he settled you onto the counter.

Breaking away, but still holding your jaw, he smirked. “I smelled like shit, yeah?” 

You shrugged. “Cement, but close enough.” 

“Since you know it all, you’re gonna help me clean it off.”  He stripped off his shirt before reclaiming your lips once more, your hands roaming eagerly over his chest and around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. You’d waited a whole year for this. 

Toji removed your jacket, then paused to peel off your t-shirt. He unhooked your bra with a single motion, pulling you close against him. The sensation of your nipples grazing against his chest hair made you momentarily gasp for air.

“You good?” he whispered, palming the side of your head. 

“So good.” You lunged at him again. He stumbled backward, bringing you with him until you both found yourselves inside the shower stall. His muscular arms coiled around you, pulling you closer as he ravaged your mouth.

Meanwhile, you shed your sweatpants and panties, while Toji unclasped his jeans and tossed them aside along with the rest of your clothes. He briefly opened his eyes, his mouth moving in sync with your desperate one, as he reached to twist the shower faucet open.

The first layer of cold water made you shiver and break apart. You and Toji stared at one another, your gazes lowering in tandem to study your naked bodies. He was big. So big. And extremely hard. His pink tip reached up to naval. Covered in veins that pulsed at a closer look. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,” Toji said, stepping closer to you. Your back met the cold surface of the stall’s glass wall. His large hands cupped your breasts and travelled down to your hips. “You've been hiding all of this under those stupid looking sweaters?” 

“I happen to like my sweaters, thank you very much.” 

“Baby, they’re ugly.” 

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He continued to laugh at his own comment until you gripped his dick. 

He stopped immediately. 

“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” Your hands moved in an elevated pattern. “Cat got your cock?” He planted his palms on either side of your head. You added twists and rolls, ones that had him at your mercy. Then you sank down onto your knees and swirled your tongue around him, sucking him off. He was breathing hard and fast, and his fingers gripped your hair. “Fuck my throat until I can’t speak for a week.” 

Toji snapped. 

He thrusted deep, deep down your throat and relished in the gagging sounds you made. “Holy fuck, baby. You’re so good at taking my cock.” Your nail sank into his hips, eyes rolling back to your skull. He forced you to open your eyes by pulling at your hair. “Fucking look at me, you little slut.” He shoved himself deeper and held your face against his pelvis. You scratched against his skin to take a breather while choking on his hot gush of release. There was nothing to swallow when he pulled your head back, releasing his dick from the confines of your mouth. 

You coughed out, drumming your fist against your chest to regain control of your lungs. A hand wrapped around your arm and stood you up. 

Toji held your jaw and inspected you closely with a twinge of concern. “Was I too hard on you, doll?” 

You nodded but raised a thumbs up. “Fantastic.” Probably the best blow-job you’ve ever given—even if Toji was mostly in control. 

His lips met yours in a soft kiss, allowing the water to wash away at your bodies. He massaged his fingers through your scalp, and, in contrast, gave your left asscheek a sharp slap. “Turn around. It’s my turn to eat.” 

Your chest pasted against the glass wall. Toji pressed himself against your back and slithered his hand down to cup your pussy. He grunted in your ear delivering a slap to it and hearing you squeak from the impact. His fingers pinched your clit and parted your folds. Easily, he fitted two fingers into your hole. “Jesus. You’re so fucking tight. No one’s been in this pussy before, baby?” 

“A few,” you said. “But they were smaller.” 

Toji curled his fingers inside of you. “A dirty whore like you needs something bigger. Don’t you, doll?” You moaned against the glass, your cheek pressed to the surface. “Tell me, baby. You need my fat cock to stretch out your tiny cunt? Need me to shape it to my cock’s size?” 

“Y-Yes—ah.” You arched your back the second his calloused thumb started circling your clit. “Fuck, Toji—oh, fuck. Faster.” He drove in a third finger and his free hand clapped over your mouth to suppress your cry. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me, doll?” You nodded and he pushed you forward, kneeling down and spreading your asscheeks. “My pussy. You hear that? This is my fucking pussy.” He dragged his tongue over it and up to your little puckered hole. 

You were high on the sounds of him slurping at your release, sucking your folds into his mouth, and teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue. This was not how you imagined your Friday night to go, but you weren’t gonna complain. You’ve been fantasising about this moment since Toji caught you putting up babysitting flyers in his neighbourhood. 

“My dick’s gonna break off if I don’t put it in now.” He wrapped your hair around his palm and positioned himself at your entrance. “Ready, doll?” 

“Fuck me, Toji. Please.” 

He could get off on your begging alone. 

His hips thrusted forward, his cock filling you to the hilt. He pulled back out and drove in—repeatedly, relentlessly. His palm came down with a bruising slap on your ass without a break. Toji wasn’t going to be satisfied until they were discoloured, until you couldn’t sit down for days. 

Seeing you wanton and moaning his name flicked a switch in his brain. He was going to brandish you in a way that you wouldn’t leave him for weeks. Months. Years. You’d be at his side until your children were arranging your joint funerals. The strange feeling inside his chest felt foreign, almost hindered the speed at which he was rutting in you. This was his first time fucking you after a year of pining and jerking himself off to your picture and he was already envisioning a romantic-movie montage. 

Toji leaned his face back so the water washed away the vision. Then he pulled out and turned you around, kissing your gasping mouth. He entered inside you again, hoisting one leg up. His fingers pinned you in place by your throat while violating your—his—pussy. 

“I’m gonna come inside you,” he breathed out over your swollen lips. 

“Do it.” 

Toji suppressed his groan by crushing his mouth against yours, a guttural growl producing from his throat. His release was everlasting, filling your inside to the brim. You came crashing down, holding the back of his hair and breaking away to breathe. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, equally panting. Those large hands settled on your throbbing ass as he completed the last bits of his ministrations. 

 You were both out of breath as you stared at one another. 

Toji blinked when you hugged him around his torso. His arms remained frozen at his side, glimpsing down at your crown. You looked up with those big, doe-eyes and a full-blown smile. Oh, he was so fucked. 

The remainder of the night was spent washing and drying each other, before tangling your naked bodies in bed. 

Toji continuously kissed your lips, his hand running up and down your back. You laid atop his chest, his cock buried within you as you gently rowed your hips back and forth. He planned to keep it nestled in you for the rest of the night. 

“Spend the weekend with me,” he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “We’ll go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with Megumi.” 

“Yeah?” You pecked his nose. “We’ll look like a little family.” 

“That little shit already considers you his mother.” 

You chuckled and brushed the tendrils of hair away from his forehead. “Maybe another time. College’s been kicking my ass. Gotta catch up on those assignments if I wanna graduate with honours.” 

Toji found himself desolated. “Can’t you just study here?” 

“Not with two babies whining and crying for my attention.” 

He gave your ass a light smack. You feigned a wince making him caress it immediately. 

“But I can come over in the evening,” you said. “We can go out for ice-cream.”

He smiled at the fact that you were going to make time for him and his son despite your busy schedule. “Ice-cream it is.” 

You laid your head down on his shoulder and adjusted yourself comfortably on his cock. “Goodnight, Mr. Zenin.” 

“Goodnight, doll.” He rested one hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your ass, staring up at the ceiling where his vision played for the rest of night. 

Toji smiled. 

[reidrum]

the many names | s.r

a/n: i could not get the idea that spencer would have little explanations for all the names he has for you so i give you this enjoy

summary: in which the many names that spencer calls you each have a special meaning

cw: mind rotting fluff

wc: 1.1k

honey:

spencer’s childhood was anything but ordinary. graduating high school at 12, with a schizophrenic mother, and an absentee father is a combo meant to mess anyone up. the one thing he felt was constant were the sitcoms his mother would watch when she had her good days. shows like i love lucy and cheers filled his ears as he watched the picture perfect families navigate through mundane and seemingly normal scenarios. the comfort he found in these televised families, something he wasn’t afforded in his own, was a nice little bandaid on the gaping hole left by the oddities of his life.

until he met you, of course. you changed everything for him, showed him what it meant to be loved and cherished, what family really was outside of the textbook definition. as a young boy he’d always envied ricky ricardo coming home to lucy at the end of every work day, bursting through the door and saying “honey, i’m home!” the phrase itself encompassed what he so dearly longed for; a home.

so when spencer calls you honey, he means it because you’re sweet and sappy and all the things normally associated with honey. but for him, specifically, when he gets to come back from harsh cases, bursting through the door of your shared apartment yelling “honey, i’m home!”, it heals that gaping hole from his childhood little by little, replacing the wound with the home you’ve built together.

sweetheart:

for someone who absolutely loves sweet things, calling you sweetheart was an obvious title in his book. the way you cared so deeply for the people in your life, the people you didn’t know, even those involved in heinous crimes were offered some of your never ending empathy. it inspired him, to know that someone who sees the true horrors of humankind on the daily can still hold hope and love for the world’s inhabitants.

when spencer calls you sweetheart, it’s in the more domestic moments of your lives. when he asks which tea you want, when he can tell it’s been a rough day and he lets you rest in the comfort of his arms saying “it’s okay, sweetheart. i’m here now.”, when he leaves you long and loving voicemails for when you’re not able to go on cases together. spencer’s sweet tooth could probably never be satiated, but if it keeps you around forever he has no problem with that.

angel:

calling you angel is still something he finds a little ironic. he’s an agnostic atheist, has no faith in the gods or whatever power that may be. he’d always say if you couldn’t find it in a textbook then it’s not a real thing. but here you were, defying literally everything he ever knew or thought he knew. spencer thinks that if angels were personified they would surely look like you.

his job has so many moments that put him in near death situations, he’s not proud of how many times he’s felt the pearly gates come for him. but every time he was close to that end, flashes of you would roll through his mind like a movie reel and it would tether him back to this realm.

add to that, you just always happened to be there when he needed you. if he was about to drop a cup of coffee you’d be there grab it, you had his back when you were on the field together, and you’d let him talk your ear off about the most obscure topic just to see him smile.

if proof existed for the theoretical, it would be you. you were his guardian angel, and he never let you forget it.

princess:

this one was rare, only invoked in the super intimate and special moments between you both. usually in the bedroom is where you hear this one used in both sides of the extreme. on one side he says it when you’re being just so needy, so pliant and willing for whatever he wants it just makes him want to give you everything in return. on the other side, when you’re being for lack of a better word, a brat, it’s used as a tease, a taunt for your slutty bad behavior. a reminder that even though you’re spoiled by him he’s still going to give you the world.

it’s also used when you both get dressed up, for an fbi event or a party at rossi’s. it always takes the wind out of him when he sees you getting ready or you come out to show your outfit to him. it makes him feel like falling in love with you again every time, like he’s been so blessed to live a fairytale where he prevails and gets the princess at the end.

baby:

calling you baby is quite literally second nature to spencer, probably the easiest thing for him to do. it slips out all the time people might think baby is your real name. he uses it when he asks what you want for dinner, when you’re upset over something he did at work that put him in danger, when he just really wants you to watch this one russian romance film he finally got his hands on and promises you’ll love it.

you also find it really funny to play songs that you know he doesn’t know that have the word baby in it, because even if he doesn’t know the words to always be my baby to mariah carey, it never stops him from giving you the biggest smile in the universe when he listens to you belt the song to him.

pretty girl:

he didn’t even come up with this one, derek did. stemming from his nickname for spencer, when derek realized that there was something between you and pretty boy, it just became so easy to get under his skin and call you pretty girl, telling him “don’t look now, your pretty girl is coming.”. before you had started dating and spencer was just pining from afar, he would get so red in the face when derek would let the name slip.

after he finally grew some balls and asked you out, spencer adopted the name for himself to use in situations he had you alone, where he could admire you in your entirety and no other prying eyes. to use when you just wake up and the sunlight hits you perfectly like a glowing halo, or when you’re both in the office and you’re explaining something relevant to the case and you just sound so smart and beautiful, and he can’t help but truly believe that the aphrodite reincarnate is his.

[chase-solidago]

Invasive Species and Xenophobia

Invasive species are complicated! People have a lot of feelings about them, positive and negative. Are plants that move "invaders" "colonizing", "immigrants", "citizens"? What does it mean to kill species that are from somewhere else? What if that species legitimately makes a poor neighbor and causes extinctions in other, native species? This complex, culturally-loaded issue is a foundational issue behind a lot of plant conservation and restoration.

This is a juicy and still actively disputed topic! The Guardian recently had a big article on colonialism in Botany, (tbh her views are dated and reductive, imo) and it’s come up again this week, to much hostility (cw: reddit). Yes, my region's native plant restoration came from literal nazis, but also, the impacts of some invasive species are real, not figments of a racist imagination. How do we balance these issues? What does ethical invasive management look like?

Since it’s such a juicy topic, I wanted to offer a few fun readings to share:

The Native Plant Enthusiasm: Ecological Panacea or Xenophobia?, Gert Gröning and Joachim Wolschke-Bulmahn, 2004, Arnoldia.

THE CLASSIC 20th century German nazis and native plants paper. Made a huge splash when it came out, and you will still encounter people who paint all native plant stuff with this brush. Summary: yeah the nazis loved their native plants and used them as part of their conquering process. Also, the first prairie plantings ever, located in Chicago, were done by a racist probable-nazi for racist reasons, full stop. I’ll let him speak for himself: “The gardens that I created myself shall… be in harmony with their landscape environment and the racial characteristics of its inhabitants. They shall express the spirit of America and therefore shall be free of foreign character as far as possible… the Latin and the Oriental crept and creeps more and more over our land, coming from the South, which is settled by Latin people, and also from other centers of mixed masses of immigrants. The Germanic character of our race, of our cities and settlements was overgrown by foreign character. The Latin spirit has spoiled a lot and still spoils things every day.” - Jens Jensen

Botanical decolonization: rethinking native plants, Tomaz Mastnak, 2014, Environment and Planning D: Society and Space

Rather than viewing native plant plantings as an act of racially-pure occupation, Mastnak positions native plants in California as a decolonization of the sub/urban lawn. Uses a lot of quotations from 16th century English philosopher Francis Bacon, and is heavy on the philosophical musings.

From killing lists to healthy country: Aboriginal approaches to weed control in the Kimberley, Western Australia by Bach et al., 2019, Journal of Environmental Management.

This paper talks through some of the native vs invasive debate, and offers a different perspective on how to approach to plant invasive management based on cultural relations, rather than country of origin or behavior.

Beyond ‘Native V. Alien’: Critiques of the Native/alien Paradigm in the Anthropocene, and Their Implications, Charles R. Warren, 2021, Ethics, Policy, & Environment

DENSE but thorough, if you want to follow the entire history of the native/invasive debate, this has you covered. The most interesting stuff, in my opinion, is the discussion of invasive denialism, IE: the impasse of “You’re just being racist!” Vs “You know nothing about ecology!” I recommend the Discussion, which starts on page 13.

[hyuniemyunie]

Nocturnal pull☆ミ

Shadow the hedgehog x gn reader

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): established relationship, shodow is experiencing...INSTINCTS!!

i have way too many fandoms i fear

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

The night air was cool, thick with the scent of damp earth and the faintest trace of ozone from a recent storm. You sat on the back porch of your shared home, knees pulled up to your chest, watching the stars flicker between breaks in the rolling clouds. The moonlight caught on the edges of wet leaves, casting silver highlights on the grass below. It was quiet—except for the faint, rhythmic sound of something rustling against the wooden floorboards behind you.

Shadow.

You didn’t have to turn around to know he was there. You had long since learned the cadence of his movements—the way his footfalls barely made a sound when he walked, how he hesitated just a second before stepping closer, like he was still adjusting to the idea of sharing space with another. Tonight, though, there was something… different. His pacing was persistent, almost anxious, though he would never admit it.

You sighed and turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of him over your shoulder. He wasn’t sitting next to you like usual. Instead, he was hovering just a few feet away, shoulders tense, eyes flickering between you and the surrounding area. His quills twitched, shifting slightly every time the wind rustled through the trees. His arms were crossed, but you could see the subtle flex of his fingers against his biceps—restless, agitated.

“…What are you doing?” you asked softly.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he huffed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before finally uncrossing his arms.

“…Keeping watch.”

You blinked. “For what?”

His gaze snapped to you, sharp and unwavering, before darting away again as if he was embarrassed to admit it. “…Anything.”

Your heart squeezed at that. It wasn’t unusual for Shadow to be protective—he had long since appointed himself as your unofficial guardian, even before you had started dating. But this was different. The way he was holding himself, the constant flicking of his ears, the barely restrained energy in his stance—it reminded you of something. Something instinctual.

“Shadow,” you said, your voice a little softer now. “Are you…” You hesitated, but the thought was already forming in your mind. “Are you feeling antsy because it’s nighttime?”

He stiffened.

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. Oh. Oh, this made so much sense.

Hedgehogs were nocturnal, weren’t they? Well, mostly—Shadow had been genetically engineered, so he didn’t exactly follow all the rules of a normal hedgehog, but still. His habits had always leaned toward the night. He was most active after sundown, even when he pretended not to be.

And right now, it seemed like his instincts were in full force.

“Shut up,” he muttered, turning his head away, but the slight twitch of his nose betrayed him.

You nearly melted on the spot.

“Awhh..” you whined, pushing yourself up onto your knees and reaching for him. “You’re all fidgety. Oh my god, are you having one of those little… instinct things??”

“I am not—”

“Oh my god, you are.” You gasped, covering your mouth in mock horror. “Wait. Are you sniffing the air right now?”

Shadow immediately stopped, his nose wrinkling as if he could somehow undo the fact that he had, in fact, been scenting the breeze. His quills bristled slightly, and he turned his back to you, clearly trying to regain his dignity.

You weren’t having it.

“Come here,” you said, reaching for him again. “Let me love you.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“…No.”

You pouted, but he didn’t budge. He was still lingering near the porch steps, his posture tense like he was still resisting the urge to prowl the perimeter. His instincts were telling him to move—to be alert, to patrol, to make sure nothing was lurking in the dark that could pose a threat to you. It was ridiculously cute.

You stood up and stepped forward, slowly sliding your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek against the back of his shoulder. He tensed for a moment before sighing, his muscles relaxing under your touch.

“You don’t have to be on high alert all the time, you know,” you murmured.

“I do.”

You hummed. “Even in a completely safe area?”

“Yes.”

“Even though I am literally right here, clinging to you, completely unbothered?”

“…Yes.”

You grinned, squeezing him a little tighter. “You’re ridiculous.”

He didn’t respond, but you could feel his chest rise and fall with a deep, steady breath. He was grounding himself—letting the warmth of your touch settle him, pulling himself back from the edge of that lingering restlessness.

Then, just as you were about to pull away, he did something that made your brain short-circuit entirely.

He nudged you.

Not a normal, casual nudge. Not a bump of the shoulder or an affectionate push. No—this was different. It was small, subtle, but unmistakable.

He pressed the side of his face against yours, just briefly, just enough for you to feel the velvety texture of his fur against your skin before he pulled back.

You froze.

He had never done that before.

“…Did you just nuzzle me?”

Shadow immediately stiffened again, realization flashing through his eyes.

“…No.”

“Oh my god.” Your voice was barely a whisper, eyes wide with delight. “You did. You totally did.”

“Forget it.”

“NO.” You latched onto him again, this time with full force, rubbing your cheek against his like an overly affectionate housecat. “You can’t just do that and expect me to let it go!”

He groaned, attempting to pry you off, but it was half-hearted at best. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re the cutest thing to ever exist.”

“I am not—”

“You nuzzled me.”

“Let it go.”

“NEVER.”

Despite all his complaints, he didn’t push you away. He let you cling to him, let you melt against him in the cool night air, let you press tiny kisses along his jawline until his ears flicked in mild irritation. And, after a long moment, just when you thought he was done being openly affectionate, he did it again—just the lightest, briefest brush of his muzzle against your temple before he muttered, “Go inside. It’s cold.”

You grinned, squeezing him one last time before stepping back toward the door. “Only if you come too.”

He hesitated, casting one last glance toward the dark tree line before exhaling softly. “…Fine.”

You beamed, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the house.

He followed.

The night stretched on, the world quiet except for the distant rustling of trees and the occasional chirp of a lone insect. Shadow followed you inside, reluctantly allowing himself to be pulled along by your hand, though his movements were still tinged with a sort of controlled tension—like a wild animal forcing itself to step into unfamiliar territory.

You knew he was still fighting the urge to go back outside, to circle the perimeter of your home until his instincts were satisfied that you were safe. He had always been like this—hyper-aware, hyper-vigilant, a creature of habit and deeply ingrained instincts that he barely acknowledged, let alone indulged.

But tonight? Tonight, he had already let something slip.

You still couldn’t get over it. He had nuzzled you.

The moment replayed in your mind, making your chest tighten with the sheer force of how much you adored him. Shadow, the Ultimate Lifeform, the cold and composed warrior, had just succumbed to the tiniest, most subconscious act of affection.

And now you had to push your luck.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, you spun on your heel, eyes gleaming with mischief. Shadow barely had a second to react before you wrapped your arms around him again, burying your face against his neck.

He stiffened instantly. “What are you doing?”

“Absorbing your cuteness.”

“Stop that.”

“Never.” You tightened your hold, swaying slightly from side to side, nuzzling into the soft fur at the base of his quills. “You can’t just nuzzle me and expect me to move on like it didn’t happen. You cuddled me, Shadow.”

“It wasn’t a cuddle.”

“It was a cuddle, and I’m going to keep bothering you about it until you admit it.”

His ear flicked in irritation, but he made no effort to actually push you away. Instead, he let out a slow exhale, his muscles gradually losing their rigidity as he allowed himself to stand there, letting you cling to him like a particularly stubborn barnacle.

You felt his head tilt slightly, just enough for him to scent your hair, and that was when you knew—you had won.

You smirked. “You’re doing it again.”

Shadow immediately pulled back, scowling. “You’re imagining things.”

“AM I?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him. “Or are you subconsciously engaging in more hedgehog behaviors because you love me?”

His glare darkened, but his silence was damning.

You gasped dramatically. “OH my god, you do.”

“I am going to Chaos Spear you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You’re right,” he deadpanned. “It would be a waste of energy.”

You grinned up at him. “So you do love me?”

The hesitation lasted only a second before he sighed, eyes flickering away from yours. “…Obviously.”

Your heart melted. He said it so casually, so bluntly, and yet there was something undeniably warm beneath the words. He had never been the type to offer sweet, flowery confessions, but every time he acknowledged his feelings—every time he chose to stay, to let you in, to soften even the slightest bit—it made you fall for him even more.

You cupped his face between your hands, fingertips brushing against the dark fur of his cheeks. He tensed but didn’t pull away.

“Shadow,” you whispered, your voice softer now, more sincere. “I love you, too.”

His ears twitched. He didn’t say anything right away, but his gloved hands came up to rest against your waist, a feather-light touch that spoke volumes.

And then, to your utter delight—he nuzzled you again.

It was subtle, so brief that anyone else might have missed it. But you felt it—the tiny, barely-there press of his muzzle against your cheek, the way his breath fanned warm against your skin for just a second before he pulled away.

It was enough to send your heart into a frenzy.

“…shadow.” you croaked, eyes wide.

He immediately looked regretful. “Forget that happened.”

“NO.” You grabbed onto him like your life depended on it, shaking him slightly. “YOU DID IT AGAIN.”

He scowled, clearly rethinking every decision he had made that had led to this moment. “I didn’t.”

“YOU DID. OH MY GOD, YOU LOVE ME SO MUCH, IT’S KILLING YOU, ISN’T IT?”

Shadow groaned, prying your hands off him as if physically removing you would end the conversation. “Go to bed.”

“I CAN’T.” You were practically vibrating at this point. “I’M TOO BUSY PROCESSING THE FACT THAT YOU HAVE INSTINCTS AND YOU CAN’T HELP BEING AFFECTIONATE—”

Shadow disappeared.

One moment he was in front of you, the next he had Chaos Controlled away, vanishing into thin air with a crackle of red energy.

You blinked at the empty space where he had stood.

“…He’ll be back,” you muttered to yourself.

And sure enough, about ten minutes later, you felt the faintest shift in the air behind you—the softest brush of warmth as Shadow reappeared, moving toward the bed like nothing had happened.

You didn’t say anything at first. You waited until he settled down, until the room was dark and quiet, until he was lying beside you with his back turned, pretending he was unaffected.

Then, slowly, you rolled over and pressed your forehead against his back.

“…I know you like it when I hold you,” you whispered.

Shadow didn’t move, but his ear twitched again.

“…Tch,” he muttered, but after a long pause, he sighed, shifting just slightly—just enough to let you press yourself closer, just enough to let you tangle your legs with his.

And that was all the permission you needed.

With a triumphant hum, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing yourself flush against his back. He was warm—solid, steady, the quiet hum of his breathing lulling you into comfort.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The night stretched on, and the weight of sleep started pulling you down.

Then, just before you drifted off, you felt it again—so faint you almost thought you imagined it.

A tiny, almost imperceptible nuzzle against the top of your head.

Your heart squeezed.

“…Cutie,” you mumbled sleepily.

Shadow exhaled, resigned. “…Shut up.”

But he didn’t pull away.

[brittle-doughie]

Doomsday is Calling (Creme Republic)

———————————————————————

Cookie Union Officer: “Excuse me, sir. I can’t let you in.”

Pure Vanilla couldn’t believe it. He had arrived to the Creme Republic along with the other heroes and leaders to discuss the threat of the Beasts.

Yet he was being..turned away?

Cookie Union Officer: “That is right. Unfortunately, you were not invited and neither was your companion.”

White Lily Cookie: “I’m sorry, Pure Vanilla Cookie. I’ve tainted your reputation…”

Y/N Cookie: “Come on, can’t you make an exception? White Lily is not the same as Dark Enchantress Cookie.”

Cookie Union Officer: “Forgive me, Great Y/N Cookie, but haven’t you heard? The Vanilla Kingdom’s membership in the Union has been suspended due to ties with our enemy. As much as I hate going against your word, the Union has made their decision final on this matter.”

Y/N Cookie: “I…er…”

Clotted Cream Cookie: “….”

Golden Cheese Cookie: “….”

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “Y/N Cookie, please. You are also aware that the two are different, don’t you?”

Cookie Union Officer: “I’ll have to ask you to vacate the premises…”

———————————————————————

DOOOT!

Cookie Union Soldier: The forces of the Beasts. We’re doomed…argh! They’re cutting through our defenses!

Y/N Cookie: “Crumbs, we have to fall back to the last defense line!”

Dumpling Cookie: “Go! We’ll cover you!”

Y/N Cookie: “Come on, Cookies! We’re pulling back!”

Salsa Cookie: “They’re already here! Brace yourselves!”

Crowned Cupcake Cookie: “No Beast can ever put me away from you!”

Cookie Union Soldier: “Too powerful…ugh!”

The walls set up to protect the perimeter are brought down with a mighty force. You and the others brace yourselves for the impending attack.

Arrows fire right at Salsa Cookie, who did her best to dodge or deflect them, but it came at the cost of exhausting her. This left her with just a large enough blind spot for an arrow to strike her side, making her yell out in pain.

Burning Spice Cookie rushed at Crowned Cupcake, trading blows with their weapons. Both having a rush with their strikes, but share the same goal of bringing down the opponent before them. Crowned tried as she might, but one powerful strike was enough to send Crowned Cupcake flying back and landing next to you.

Dumpling Cookie, being left with no choice, readied her dual chopsticks.

A flash of purple light from amidst the smoke was all the warning she got before Silent Salt Cookie rushed at her with their blade, blocking them just in the nick of time.

You needed a bit to try and drag back Salsa and Crowned to safety, but that was barely enough before Dumpling herself was pushed back towards you.

Dumpling Cookie: “Go, Y/N Cookie. Run!”

Get it? :D

Y/N Cookie: “I won’t leave you!”

Mystic Flour Cookie: “Then allow me to do it for you. Fall.”

The three cookies before you started to cough as they turned pale.

Y/N Cookie: “No! What are you doing!”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Lookie lookie, I found my Cookie!”

Y/N Cookie: “I’ll stop you! No matter what it takes!”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Ooh, so scary~! Come on, Y/N Cookie. Your Guardians can’t save you this time~! Isn’t this just so fun to finally meet uninterrupted~?”

Mystic Flour Cookie: “This was a long time coming, Y/N Cookie. Futile as always to try and fight it…”

Burning Spice Cookie: “How incredibly BORING! Why did I expect a princess to entertain me with that effort!”

Silent Salt Cookie: “….”

Eternal Sugar Cookie: “Finally, my love! Oh, how I’ve waited all this time! I can way better than a dainty princess!”

Y/N Cookie: “You-“

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “No….”

Y/N Cookie: “What the?”

You turned to your right to see Pure Vanilla Cookie, his head down as he muttered his words. Was he watching this whole time?

His head suddenly snapped up and for the first time in ever, he was angry. He was very angry…

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “YOU WILL ALL REGRET COMING HERE! I WILL DESTROY ALL OF YOU!!!”

———————————————————————

[sha-biest]

SHA's Golden Future DTIYS [Art & Writing]

Close ups of Mikey

About 10 days ago I had the idea to host a DTIYS and even though I told myself it wouldn't happen anytime soon.. the idea struck and it wouldn't let me go. SO, here it is! One thing before everything else:

1st place: One handmade custom plushie made by me

More information about this DTIYS down below

I am aware that this is a rather challenging DTIYS but it was done so intentionally by me. (Trust me, I tortured myself too 🙃) HOWEVER. you are allowed to chose to draw only one segment of the whole piece and not every single one! You will however get more points for including all 3 parts of it. I will judge the pieces based on: • How many segments of the whole piece were drawn • Creativity (in what way was it changed from the original to emphasize your own style for example) • Colors (did you chose to use colors or is it black and white?) • Hands. I do accept written entries for this as well! I love reading and I don't want to exclude writers for this one should they decide they want to tackle this! You are allowed to use my art up top of the DTIYS to promote your writing!

If you want to participate be sure to @sha-biest and use the tag #GoldenFutureDTIYS Additionaly, let me know what YOU would like to get as a plushie! (don't worry, you don't have to stick to that decision should it change over the course of the DTIYS)

Deadline: 10th March 2025 1st June 2025

More Info: • #GoldenFutureAU art tag • Written Story by Co-Creator @rosesofenvy (More about Mikey's mindscape and him unlocking his full mystic powers can be read in "Keep You Safe" especially within Chapter 4 and Chapter 8) • The Sun God's appearance here and here References:

Mikey's mindscape in Golden Future:

In the beginning he thought it was black water but it's actually black sand

He can dive into the sand and uncover "treasures" (parts of his mystic energy)

Diving down means no vision, sound or air gets through to him

He can uncover the mystic powers by pulling them up with his chains

Uncovering a "treasure" will turn that part of the desert golden

Disclaimer: • The plushie that can be won cannot be used to be reproduced and/or sold • The size of the plushie depends on the character chosen by the winner and by the package size I can send • I am by no means a professional plush maker so I do have the right to decline a character should I not be able to turn it into a plushie • Changes might need to be made to the chosen character for the plushie for more complicated details (I will provide sketches of possible versions) • Minors are permitted to participate, but only with the express permission of a guardian and limited correspondence if they win • You can chose to get a full illustration piece instead of a plushie should you win! (if you are too uncomfortable sharing your adress for example)

Plushie examples:

Questions can be send in via my ask box! I will try to compile them in here or give them a dtiyas specific tag! I'm curious what you guys come up with and most of all.. have fun! :D

PS: I will consider doing two first places (one for writing and one for art) depending on how many entries there are

[xenosaurus]

okay FINE I’ll write a post about the emperor, if tumblr’s going to give me thirst posts either way I might as well. huge endgame spoilers for bg3

the emperor is a goddamn masterpiece of game design, because he’s YOUR powerful, abusive manipulator. Wyll has Mizora, Shadowheart has Shar, Lae’zel has Vlaakith, etc— and Tav has the emperor.

They position him as your guardian. They let you design him a face so he’s trustworthy to you. MOST of his advice is… technically true. You CAN get power from the tadpoles, the githyanki ARE dangerous, you CAN beat the elder brain without Orpheus.

But it’s all a misdirect. He doesn’t care about you. If you do his “romance” scene, he’s pulling a nastier version of Astarion’s “I slept with you so you’d protect me” stunt. He needs you to obey him, to trust him, to see him as an equal.

You learn the fates of his last two “equal partners”— Ansur, whose death the emperor tries to keep you from discovering by claiming he never existed at all, and Stelmane, who the emperor claims was his friend and business partner right up until you mouth off too much, when he admits she was his thrall, and you aren’t because you’re more useful with your wits about you.

Can you really trust his “ethical” brain harvesting claims, given the other lies and half truths? Whether you think eating criminals is a lesser evil or not, there are cages in his quarters. He had thralls. His “shared memory” where he shows himself as a mindflayer in a cloak doesn’t account for the record of a glamor in his quarters that kept kitchen staff from noticing human brain meat until leftovers were removed from the room. He was manipulating people’s senses when they were around him.

But he CAN help you. He IS on your side. As long as you’re on his side, of course. His own self preservation comes first, and that’s not inherently terrible, but he will twist whatever he needs to to get you to help him, no matter how much harm it does.

He’s an incredible character. He fascinates and horrifies me. He’s perfect for his role and I love how they used mind flayers, how he’s setting you up before you even start the game.

TL;DR: long live Prince Orpheus, asshole

[enden-k]

1st batch of random sketches of a loose ivlk au idea

in which ivan is a vocalist/lyricist in a band who lost his inspiration for music and finds it in luka, a burnt out musical prodigy, after getting entangled with him almost by fate; they become each others muse and obsession - and comfort

they share the similarity of being musical prodigies with abusive guardians/upbringing; ivan ran away from his and lives a free and unrestrained life singing in underground bars and clubs in a band he only joined bc of his best friend/childhood love. his feelings went unrequited for many years until he eventually and recently slowly got over it, coming to terms its no use and that they would never have a chance since hes "too intense", "too much", "not normal". bc of this, his inspiration disappeared since till was his muse all this time

luka stayed and became a golden-caged songbird, objectified and used by his possessive guardian bc of his talent. he was trained strictly since childhood and forced to perform on stage, study and pursue music, the only thing that he truly enjoys, to utmost perfection to the point of burn out and beyond. his guardian eventually passed and it left luka free but since his entire life was planned and dictated and control taken from him, he feels lost and alone, unsure what to do. music was the only purpose in his life, the only thing hes good at, he can do; hes burnt out and exhausted but still continues, the things his guardian ingrained into his mind still controlling his behavior and life

when luka meets ivan, his love for music gets rekindled without the pressure and abuse that loomed over him all his life; when ivan meets luka, his inspiration and love returns. theyre both scarred from their similar upbringing and situation which influences a lot of things they are/do (e.g. tendencies to become obsessive/possessive,...) theyre both considered and branded "odd" by people around them but they learn they can let go of their masks around each other and be themselves, finding comfort and healing together. what started as an entanglement w mutual benefits grows into mutual love

i babbled quite a bit kjhbkjbj.. 🧍‍♀️

(as obvious above, i love keeping close to canon while also mixing in own thoughts/my hcs when i do AUs so yea, luka still has asthma, migraines etcetc, but theyre also both autistic (not planning to make it relevant or focus, im just throwing it out there) and luka has an ED)