#i prefer it when everything is neat and i know when i need to tidy when i feel like crap

[unimportantweirdo]

so i took an ocd test on a whim and then i took 3 more

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

You know, all I want is to spend some time with Nikto on his off-days and have him read Dostoyevski to me, if you don't want to make this like a single fic you can maybe incorporate it into "ravishing allure" some time later 🥹

"…and there can be no love otherwise."

PAIRINGS: Nikto x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: If anyone could make the bad days better, it was Nikto.

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

WARNINGS: Stress from work/life, lack of sleep, mostly fluff, comfort, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

There were times you wondered if putting up with your job was really worth it. Sure, you needed the money to pay rent, food, and bills, among a laundry list of others that just seemed to never end, but was the cost of your sleep the metaphorical soul you had to hand over? 

Every day you came home tired to your little apartment—neighbors loud and the light in the bathroom flickering because the electrician had never shown up to fix it. Tired, but unable to fall asleep until everything else was done. So, you’d make dinner, clean, shower, sit down to mindlessly watch a show on TV for half an hour, and then stumble into bed. 

Only to stay awake and stare at the ceiling. 

You can’t say why you do it, thinking over the things you did wrong and the awkward conversations you have with coworkers; you shouldn’t care about it—really, you shouldn't. Yet you can’t stop your brain from slipping like a slide to every instance, every millisecond where you felt the air of the interaction change. Side-eyes and confused looks. 

And then at six o’clock, you’d drag yourself out of bed with bags on your face and a drained expression to do it all over again. 

“Hi, how can I help you today?” 

“Oh, of course, we have some in the back—I’ll go grab it for you.”

“Thank you! You have a good day now, Sir. Come back soon.”

It just felt fake. Greet, help, take money, wave and smile, repeat, repeat, repeat. But maybe today would be slightly different, by the second pair of shoes that were placed in your apartment entry as you slowly opened the front door. 

Boots—black and set an equal distance apart with a cleaned surface despite the places they’d been and what they’d probably stepped through. They were neatly situated under the small bench you had for convenience, and you blink at them as you softly shut the door and lock it. A large, and matching in color, jacket was folded and placed atop the flat surface—keys sitting in an indent. 

Nikto, ever the neat and tidy one. He must be back then. 

While the two of you didn’t live together, the bear of a man had made a habit of coming over when he returned from deployments with KorTac—you’d given him a key the second year you’d been together. 

Your ears faintly twitch to the sound of cooking, nose moving just a second later to the scent of something on the stove. Clinking pans and silent footsteps. He knew you were here, sure as anything. Weakly sighing, you shift out of your jacket and shoes; tossing them in the general direction of the bench as you rub at your eyes and drop your purse to the floor with a slap of canvas. 

How do you explain looking like shit? 

Shuffling into the kitchen, you undo some of the buttons on your blouse to let yourself breathe, dress pants running along the carpet as your feet pad like a hound’s slapping paws. Vision blurry and eyelids threatening to close on you, you find the tall man in front of the stove, moving something in a pan with sizzling oils with the wide flex of his shoulders.

On another burner, there’s a large pot of simmering water—the counter has already been cleaned up of flour and mess, a tidy pile of dirty items sitting in the sink to be washed. You stare for a second before you grumble a hello, forcing your body to sag into his back as you walk over and slap your forehead into his spine. 

Nikto grunts lowly in response and continues what he’s doing. 

While it wasn’t rare to find him in the kitchen—in fact, you prefer it when he cooks—but usually when he got back you opted to order supper. He always insisted, gruffly, that he wasn’t tired, but you just wanted him to relax.

It was fun to baby him. 

“Didn’t know you were going to be back today,” you whisper into him, arms hanging by your sides. 

“We were released early,” his voice is deep and harsh—a bark of his Russian accent and rasp. Every word is thought out and said with purpose. “Conflict in schedule.”

You hum lowly, and it’s immediately after that Nikto stiffens, back going straighter. It’s the fact that you don’t even notice that you’ve completely screwed up your own routine that tips him off; how your change in pace had made him initially suspicious as he’d heard you enter the apartment. 

You hadn't commented on his eyes. Hadn’t tried to get him to turn around to see them. 

There was a running gag that Nikto tolerated—you’d grab him carefully by the chin and tilt his blank eyes to you in all of their icy glory. Sparks of glass and chilled storms inlay near the pupils. You’d stare, smile, and then say, “Yup, he’s still in there.” 

Even if you couldn’t see it under his balaclava, Nikto’s lips would part and he’d study your face for a minute in silence, before lightly bonking his forehead to yours. A strange and unique kiss that only he could perfect in his intimidating way. 

You hadn’t even attempted that. 

Nikto puts down the fork he was using to push around the fried potatoes and mushrooms; Pelmeni still simmering in the pot for another five minutes. The cut-up dill and melted butter on the counter are pushed from his mind with a purpose in his veins.

“What is wrong with you?” Nikto turns and you stifle a fatigued snort as you look up at him. It wasn’t his fault, of course. English isn’t his first language, and you found his broken, or sometimes bare-bones blunt, sentences to be endearing.

“Such a way with words, hm?” You can’t help but tease, and you can see the annoyed furrow of his brown brows, nose huffing a breath. “Just tired, Nikto.” Your words make his gaze slide along the very visible bags and the red veins of your eyes. 

He mutters something in Russian under his breath, lids narrowing on you as he grasps your shoulders and moves you back so he can look you up and down slowly in a near clinical breakdown of atoms. As if he can peel back clothes and splay nerves to light. 

“You look horrible…Sickly.” You can see the brain working as your lips go into a line to stay off your loud laugh. “Like dead woman walking.”

He was so much better with actions than words, this beast of wide shoulders and shifting thighs that could crush your bones to dust in an instant. You liked that about him—you never had to guess when he was being genuine or not.

“Work’s been rough,” you chuckle lowly, sliding on a fake smile that doesn’t fool him for a second. “Nothing I can’t…figure out, okay? Thanks for making supper, I love when you cook.”

Nikto’s eyes soften just a smidge, his hands holding your flesh just the littlest bit tighter. His expansive chest rises and falls in a heavy sigh, the bulk of his stomach and pecs visible under the tucked black t-shirt and his spare cargo pants.

Without a word, you’re being lifted with little more than a huff of, “моя нежная девочка… keep awake.”

You squeak as you’re settled onto his shoulder, hanging off like a sack of grain as his arm wraps over the top of your tailbone—large other hand on your thigh and fingers firmly grasping your skin. 

“Nikto—!”

“Hush,” he grunts, a bark of a chuckle wafting out as your hand playfully hits his back with a pathetic slap. The man raises a brow, smirking under his face covering. “What do you expect to do with that, girl?” 

“To let you know,” you poke at his spine and he shifts your farther down his shoulder in retaliation as you scramble and grasp at his shirt; giggling as your head sways to his steps. “That I won't go quietly!” 

“Good to know,” he grumbles. “I would want nothing less, eh?” 

His hands make sure that you don’t fall, even if you were to start wiggling or slipping.

You go limp and let him carry you into the living room, face burning with appreciation as your limbs let themselves rest. Nikto slings you back over his shoulder and drops you to the couch as you laugh, head purposely hitting the pillow as your chest rises and falls with breaths. 

The man stares down at you as you chuckle in gasps, always one to stare at any chance he gets. His arms crossed at his chest, feet apart, and shadow slipping over you from the overhead light. You gaze up silently, a smile on your lips, and quizzically raise to your brow.

“Stay,” is what he says to you, icy vision sliding down your body with a hum of approval. He sends a teasing slap to your thigh before striding back into the kitchen, narrowly missing your leg kicking out at his arse. 

Nikto scoffs at your attempt and disappears.

Normally you’d run at him and jump on his back, hanging off like an animal, but being as fatigued as you are, you call a mumbled curse at his name and curl sideways. Your face nuzzles into the pillow, smiling lightly before you let your eyes momentarily close.

You must have taken a quick nap because it seemed not even a second later that you were being shaken awake by a hand on your arm; spreading up to run over your cheek as your lashes flutter. “Милая.” You sigh, vision blurry and your head pounding. A strong scent hits your nose and you perk—rubbing at your eyes and face. “Eat.”

A plate of fried potatoes with mushrooms and another bowl of Pelmeni are on the coffee table, and the former is shoved into your face by a strong hand, the small dumplings topped with melted butter and dill. 

“Pelmeni,” Nikto states in a monotone, blinking at you as if you don’t know his own culture’s food by now. He made them often enough, which was why you liked him so much—food was truly the way to your love.

You’d taken up baking some of Nikto’s favorite desserts once, had failed horribly, and left most of the kitchen work to him—but the funny thing was that whenever you did bake, the man still always cleaned his plate. You’d never seen him turn down your food, even when you could see his eyes scrunch with restrained aversion.

“Да,” he would grunt out, “good.” It was so strained you always laughed so hard your lungs hurt after. On the off-hand, Nikto’s skills in the kitchen were enough to get you to sell your car for just another bite. 

Sitting up, you carefully take the bowl and look up at him, smiling deeply. 

“Thank you, Nik.” The man hums and turns his head away, still unused to outright affection even two years in. “Nikto~” you draw out his name, tilting your head to the side and trying to catch his gaze again. 

“Silence, woman,” he growls with no real heat, huffing before carefully placing his forehead to yours again as you expected him to. You giggle and stare into his eyes smugly. 

You knew what he was waiting for. Your blood runs hot, face going into a picture of care. His blues blink at you as snowflakes mingle with mist; a mix of cold and desolate landscapes that offer no reprieve from harm besides the small glint of fire they gain when they lock with yours. 

“Yup,” you whisper, and Nikto’s shoulders loosen as he presses more deeply into your skin. “He’s still in there.” 

He stares intensely, and the faintest of twitches under his balaclava tell you all you need to know. 

Nikto makes sure you eat your fill and when you’re done he takes the dishes and washes them while you shower and get into pajamas. Sluggish, but warmed by a full stomach and your boyfriend’s care. You come out to find he’s already reclining on the couch, book in hand as the other bends behind his neck. Lights were low and the heat turned up. Nikto opens his side to you and your body snuggles next to him—it had taken a long time to earn his trust like this; to be near him and to freely give affection.

It would be longer still until you saw his face, but you can live with that. There was no rush, and you knew it was a large soft spot even if he’d never shared the details as to why.

You sigh deeply and Nikto grunts, moving his arm behind your back and keeping you to his chest as he reads. 

This is a common sight from him, and he begins reading to you in his mother tongue from the works of Fyodor Dostoevsky, the grit and gravel of his voice sliding into words and sensations as you practically feel it coming from his chest and throat. Your head situates itself under his chin, feeling his free hand playing with your hair until you go brain-dead except to the way he feels and sounds. Harsh words had never been more gentle.

Halfway through he switches to English, his sentences now more slow and thought out and your lashes flutter; breath soft as you take in his scent of oakmoss and amber. His heart beats steady and true. 

“‘To love is to suffer,’” he reads, fingers rubbing circles into your clothes and letting you sleep as the day grows faster into a cold night. He glances down with easy eyes, gripping you just a bit closer as your body entirely goes limp in his embrace. “‘...And there can be no love otherwise.’” 

He silences himself and watches for a moment before he closes the book, dropping it silently to the coffee table and staring past you at the ceiling. The man feels your warmth bleed into his scarred and damaged skin and whispers something akin to vindication.

Nikto listens to your steady breathing and holds you. Steady. Noiseless. 

He grunts to himself and only presses you closer.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[secriden]

well that was lovely. i love that we got to see them so long after the finale, after they've mellowed and settled into their relationship and their dynamic.

tongrak has come so, so far. he could barely confess his love to mahasamut in ep 10, and now we see him completely unashamed about being head over heels for mahasamut. there wasn't a single instance of denial or embarrassment about his love and desire for and eagerness to be with mahasamut - even when vie straight up accused him of having a kink for angry!mahasamut, his response isn't denial but "are you psychic". oh, how safe he must feel in this relationship to be able to fly so freely with this after everything we saw in the series, because to show this kind of devotion must feel so vulnerable.

and i love that mahasamut truly gets to be true to himself. i love that he still gets to do what he cares about; gets to live on the island, continue working, presumably take care of all the people on the island he protects and provides for. i also really love that tongrak never at any point dismisses the importance of mahasamut's work (which would be so easy to do by arguing that tongrak's rich enough that mahasamut probs doesn't actually need to work). but he knows that mahasamut loves what he does, and loves the island and the people so he's never dismissive of it.

and its so beautiful how they accomodate each other into their lives. mahasamut just spoils him so much and is so enamoured by everything tongrak does but there's subtle, more hidden things too, like how he knows tongrak likes things neat and tidy so he makes sure their home is neat before he comes back; how he knows tongrak was secretly enjoying his time with vimook even though he also wanted to rush back to mahasamut. he plans to take tongrak out to the sea because he notices a pattern of tongrak only settling after he's been to the sea even before he learns why tongrak loves the sea. and tongrak wanting to run back to mahasamut's side finishing his work early so he could but not pushing for mahasamut to come back with him, learning to cook for mahasamut, looking at furniture but refusing to buy it until he discusses it with mahasamut even though it's his money. like this is such a stable, loving, considerate relationship. they think of the other person and genuinely want what's best for the other even if it's not necessarily their preference.

i also love that as much as mahasamut's very 'dom' coded to tongrak's 'sub', there's glimpses of their true ages in moments like when mahasamut asks tongrak to "just see me off like this from time to time" and tongrak's face just softens into this overwhelming fondness and he kisses mahasamut on the forehead. mahasamut asks for so, so little but somehow tongrak's reaction shows us that he holds those instances with the reverence and adoration they deserve.

their love is so deep and sweet and tender and lovely and warm and i'm so grateful we got this.

fortpeat's performances were breathtaking. i'm desperate for a gif of mahasamut looking at tongrak as he turns away with the sparkler to kick at the water because fort captured 'besotted' beautifully in that 1 second (screenshots don't quite capture it somehow). it really felt like they immersed themselves fully into the roles, like there wasn't even really any awkward moments or interactions that made me second guess that they were 2 people very much in love and very, very sure of the other's love for them.

[pianokantzart]

Broken Warp Pipe AU

Based off of a concept by @multicolour-ink and @wiz-witch​ where the warp pipe in Brooklyn breaks down, leaving Mario and Luigi stranded separate dimensions: X.

From there I just went off the rails.

Mario (Brooklyn Side)

Mario has not stopped working toward finding a way to The Mushroom Kingdom since he and Luigi were separated, and has run himself ragged in the process.

He started off trying to discover if there is a working warp pipe somewhere else in the world. After all, if there was one just under their noses in Brooklyn, surely there’s another somewhere! He just needs to search, and search hard.

He’s always on the move, working some side-gigs to stay afloat while spending every second of free time pursuing and studying warp pipes. He eats bad, sleeps bad, and even smokes sometimes when he’s sleep deprived and can’t focus (though he always feels guilty about it afterward. Luigi would NOT approve.)

Mario hates being alone, but spends most of his time alone, because he feels that’s what he deserves at this point. He’s reached so many dead ends he feels like he’s already failed his brother, but refuses to slow down all the same.

When he’s feeling particularly hopeless or lonely, sometimes he talks to nobody as though he’s talking to Luigi. This helps a little. 

He calls his family every couple of months to let them know he’s okay, and to see if there’s any sign that the Brooklyn warp pipe is working again. These phone calls are brief, and he never properly explains where he is or what he’s doing.

 Mario has stolen (and usually returned) many ancient artifacts and documents, and broken into many a location trying to uncover a warp pipe. He hasn’t hurt anyone, but his impatience and determination has earned him a bit of a criminal record in the human world. 

In his travels, Mario found one or two working warp pipes, but they led to weird alternative dimensions not even close to The Mushroom Kingdom. He has done some heroism in these places whenever the situation presents itself (he’s still a good guy), and has been rewarded with helpful information about warp pipes and how they work.

Through knowledge he gleaned from his travels, combined his own advanced skills with traditional plumbing, Mario eventually pieces together how to repair warp pipes, which he uses to fix his own pipe back in Brooklyn.

Luigi (Mushroom Kingdom Side)

When Mario first got trapped in Brooklyn, Luigi desperately tried to fill his brother’s shoes until he returned. When Bowser inevitably reattempted to destroy The Mushroom Kingdom, Luigi tried to channel his brother by taking the tyrant on alone. He was very nearly killed as a result. DK, Toad, and Peach successfully fended off Bowser in the end, but Luigi was left physically and emotionally scarred in a way he has not quite recovered from.

Luigi still does his best to be a hero despite everything, but is only barely functional unless he has someone backing him up. Princess Peach sticks close to him whenever possible, and Toad is ecstatic to have him as a friend and adventuring buddy.

 Luigi has an official place on the Toad Brigade, and is happiest when he’s doing missions with them.

He eventually develops into one of the most formidable heroes in the dimension, especially after he gains the powers of the thunder hand. He rarely gets recognition for this though, because he very much does not behave like the traditional hero, and far prefers the sidekick position. He wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Luigi does not spend a lot of time in his and Mario’s house, save to keep it clean and tidy. He has not moved any of his brothers things, except to keep them dusted. A part of him still holds out hope that he’ll be back one day.

Princess Peach hooked Luigi up with an apprenticeship with Professor E. Gadd during one of his slumps, and he spends most of his nights sleeping over at the lab. The professor is happy to have him around; Luigi keeps the place so neat and organized, and makes the best cup of coffee!

Though they have some wardrobe changes, both Mario and Luigi have their original hats, and are extremely protective of them. 

[clairesvalentine]

Hello! I have a request: SFW alphabet for Kuai Liang cause he doesn't get enough attention.

sfw alphabet — kuai liang

note: i’m so sorry for disappearing!! life has been so so so hectic!! i’m back for the time being. also, i’m adding gta 5 to the games i’ll write for :) admin, i’m so sorry for the long wait! i hope you enjoy 🤍 this was really fun to do!!

warnings: none. just pure fluff 🫶🏼

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

kuai liang isn’t the most affectionate in public. he prefers to show his live through actions rather than words. while in public, he’d have a protective presence over you. if he feels like you’re in any danger, he’ll place his hand on your lower back or do whatever he can to watch over you.

however, in private he’s much more affectionate. he’ll gently place his hands on your waist if he has to pass by you. he loves placing soft kisses on any part of your body. whether it’s your shoulder or your cheek, he always wants you to feel appreciated.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

as a best friend, kuai liang is very loyal. you won’t ever have to fear that he’d betray you. if you need him, he’ll be there in an instant. he shows his appreciation by doing tasks for you, even the minor ones. he wants to show you that you can trust him.

you two always had a mutual respect for one another. after you were recruited by liu kang, he had kuai liang train you personally. the two of you grew to have a mutual respect with another. with that respect grew a romantic relationship.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

boy oh boy kuai liang absolutely enjoys cuddling, especially after a long and strenuous day. his cuddles are strong yet tender, making you feel safe in his arms.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

eventually kuai liang would like to settle down. there’s nothing more he would like than to start a family with the person he truly cares about. you guys have had conversations and it’s something that’s rather debated. you’d like to start a family, but with this war starting between his clan and bi-han’s, starting a family would now would not be the best time to do so.

kuai liang isn’t a neat freak per say, but he does tend to keep everything nice and tidy. he’s not at gordon ramsey’s level but he can cook well. he’s always willing to try something new and if he sees that you’re tired, he’ll take over while you rest.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

if kuai liang had to break things off with his partner he’d do it with utmost respect and honesty. he’d never want to hurt anyone intentionally, not if you were someone he deeply cared about. it would definitely be face to face, that way he’d be able to express himself better.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

kuai liang deeply values commitment and would not rush into marriage without being absolutely sure. after being betrayed by his bi-han, it’s hard to know when you can trust someone. you never really know who’s working on the other side.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

kuai liang is very gentle, both physically and emotionally. he understands the strength of his abilities and is always careful not to hurt you. he’d never forgive himself if he ended up harming you in any way.

emotionally, he is patient and understanding, ready to listen to you if ever need to vent or ramble about anything that’s bothering you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

kuai liang loves giving you hugs, as well as receiving them. though he mostly reserves them for special moments. his hugs are firm and comforting.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

he would wait until he is one hundred percent sure before saying "i love you." he believes in the weight of those words and wants to ensure they are said sincerely and at the right moment.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

kuai liang doesn’t get jealous that easily, but when he does he tends to do little subtle things. for instance, he’s much more affectionate in public. he’d wrap his arm around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. this usually tends to happen whenever johnny tries to shoot his shot.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

kuai liang’s kisses are tender and deliberate, full of meaning. he likes to kiss you on your forehead, lips, and your shoulders. he enjoys being kissed on the neck, finding it comforting. though he also just likes feeling your lips against his.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

kuai liang is gentle and patient with children. He treats them with respect and enjoys teaching them new things. when he’s training children, he’s stern but patient. unlike bi-han, he treats his trainees like one of his own. training with the shirai ryu is no easy task. he wants his trainees to be the best they could be. children often feel safe and valued in his presence.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

morning with kuai liang are calm and structured. he likes having a good routine and often starts the day with some light exercise or meditation. on the days he isn’t training, he enjoys quiet mornings with you, sharing a cup of tea and conversation. if you’re still asleep, he will make sure that he leaves you some breakfast.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

nights with kuai liang are relaxed and peaceful. to unwind, he likes to lay beside you and listen to you ramble for hours until he drifts off to sleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

kuai liang reveals things about himself slowly, preferring to build trust over time. he believes in sharing when the moment feels right. with bi-han betraying him and tomas, it's a bit hard to trust people. the fear of people ultimately betraying him in the end hits hard for him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

kuai liang is incredibly patient. it takes a lot for you anger him. however, his patience starts to run thin if he feels as if you're drawing at straws just to argue with him. even then, he'd never yell at you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

kuai liang is not one to forget anything about you. he wants you to know how much he appreciates you. from remembering your birthday to how you like your coffee in the morning. you are his person, he'd do anything to make you happy.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

his favorite moment with you would most likely be a quiet, intimate time spent together. one of this favorite moments with you would have to be when he took you to watch the sunset. it was your all time wish and he just had to grant it for you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

kuai liang is very protective, always looking out for his partner’s safety. with this war going on between his clan and bi-han's new one, he has to ensure that you're safe. whether it's by having you in his sight or by having tomas accompany you, he wants to ensure that you're okay. however, in the off chance that something does happen to you, he will most definitely go after the person to hurt you. for kuai liang, he appreciates being protected emotionally, knowing his partner has his back. loyalty is definitely a big one for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

kuai liang puts a lot of effort into everything he does, especially when it comes to his partner. dates, anniversaries, and gifts are planned thoughtfully. he pays a bunch of attention to what his partner likes and values.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

though he does try his best to spend his time with you, he does get involved with his work too heavily. with the war against his brother, he has to train his clan to be ready for anything. another one of his "ugly" traits would be his tendency to internalize his stress and emotions, sometimes making it hard for him to open up when he’s struggling. he might also be overly critical of himself.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

kuai liang is moderately concerned with his appearance. he believes in presenting himself well but he doesn’t obsess over it too much. his main focus is on being disciplined and maintaining his physical condition.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

ABSOLUTELY!! you are his entire world. you bring a different kind of balance in his life. without you, he doesn't have that structure or balance.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

kuai liang knows how to play the flute. that's it. that's the tweet. like c'mon!! this man has some musical bone in his body, i'm telling you rn

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

he HATES dishonesty and betrayal. in a partner, he values integrity, kindness, and loyalty. he can't be in a relationship where he doesn't trust his partner.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

kuai liang is a light sleeper and often wakes up early. in case of an attack, he has to be up and ready to fight. he prefers to sleep on his back or side.

[headphones-ct-09978]

So....I saw this earlier today. Apparently this is Kylo Ren's quarters and it's just.....so freaking sad! 😢

That being said, I had an idea: What if Kylo's apprentice, who works for/with Hux and is paid a hefty wage, buys him a new bed and other comforts?

Comfy

Kylo Ren X General Hux X Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Kylo Ren's apprentice worries about him.

Tags: @kylorenny @jaynesilver @lifeofroos @knightsofladyren

(I tagged some of you cuz I thought you'd like this. Lemme know if you don't wanna be tagged in any more 😅)

. Your master was away on yet another solo mission, the directive unknown to you. While he was away, you were back to working for Hux as his assistant. Things were running smoothly, and with Kylo gone, Armitage seemed a little more at ease. Either it was that tea he was sipping once again, or the absence of your master, but he was smiling more and was generally more relaxed. That morning, or rather, the start of your rotation, was no different. You were busy filling in data into your data pad when he walked over to you and rested his hand on your shoulder, a gesture which was rare but welcome. "How's the report coming along, Y/n?"

You flashed him a startled smile, his action shocking you out of your thoughts momentarily. "It's going fairly decent, General. Everything is accounted for and the updates from our suppliers just arrived. Is there anything we need, aside from rations and weapons?"

Hux thought for a moment, reading what was on your data pad over your shoulder. After a moment, something seemed to click in his head. "You have everything listed, but Lord Ren has...certain preferances in regards to rations."

"He's a picky eater?" you asked in jest, glancing over your shoulder at the ginger general. Hux snorted "I wish it were that, but no. He's on a strict diet, at least that's what he's mentioned."

"Do you know what he prefers? He hasn't told me much about his...personal habits." you replied, opening a new tab on your pad so you can jot down any notes or suggestions Hux had. But Hux shook his head. "I haven't the faintest of clues as to what that man likes or doesn't."

"Fair enough."

A moment passed as Hux thought of a solution. "He may have some products in his quarters that may clue us in as to what he eats." he retrieved his own data pad and swiped the screen a few times before he pulled up a pass code and sent the set of numbers to you.

"What's this?" you asked as you stared at the lengthy line of numbers.

"That is Kylo Ren's pass code to his quarters. He's an extremely secretive and private man and it was a pain to figure this out."

You tried to hide the smirk on your face. "And why, General, would you want to enter his quarters?"

Hux flicked the tip of your ear, a tiny playful gesture. "We have regulations here aboard this ship, and those regulations require a certain level of tidiness. Kylo has very little time, it seems, to keep his quarters neat. The pass code is for service droids to clear up any...messes he leaves." The General was, of course, referring to the times when Kylo vented his rage on anything within reach, often destroying furniture or consoles. Hux, as always, had to either pay for the damages himself or clean up the debris.

"Ooooooh, oh I get." You said, still flashing him a cheeky smirk, a smirk which he returned moments before he took another sip from the mug he was holding.

"Well, in that case, I'll go take inventory of what he has and get back to you on that." With that, you gave him a tiny salute and headed towards your master's quarters.

...

"Whoa..."

As the doors whooshed open, you were greeted with a cold, stark sight. The room was entirely black, it's lights a cold white. The table was empty, the bed that was against the wall was entirely too small for your master. The room was devoid of comfort and warmth, at least the kind of warmth that a man with such status should have. There was no furniture whatsoever, aside from the one chair that was near the table. You walked in and immediately shivered. It would appear that not even the heat was on in this room. "How can a man live like this?" you mumbled, feeling pity for your master as you walked towards the cupboards.

The cupboards, which were also a smooth, obsidian hue, were situated on the opposite side of the room, near what you assumed was a sink. You opened one of the cupboards and found...absolutely nothing. His shelves were empty save for a few dust bunnies. The sight concerned you. "How the fuck does he eat or sleep? No, no, this isn't good. Screw it," you shut the cupboard quite forcefully. "He's getting fed and sleeping when he gets back, I don't care how mad he gets."

With that, you swiftly left the room with plans and a grand scheme.

...

"You want me to do what???" Hux choked out after he spat out his tea in shock when I informed him of my plan.

"You don't have to pay for anything, I'll use my own credits, but I think he needs this." you said again. You showed Hux the list you made, as well as the already filled out request papers you had signed. He scrolled through the data pad, reviewing everything you had requested, brows furrowed in concern. "You sure about this, Y/n?" his grey green eyes looking back at yours. You nodded, not changing your mind. This had to be done. Hux sighed. "Fine. I'll have these sent. Everything should arrive before he returns."

You smiled and gave him a hug, earning a surprised "oh!" from him. "Thank you, Armitage!" you said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Hux cleared his throat a little, trying to hide the blush that was making it's way onto his face. "Alright, alright, don't get used to it. I'm not in the business of granting everyone's requests. This is a one time deal, since you are paying for everything."

You chuckled and nodded. "Very well, General."

...

The mission had been brutal and Kylo was battered and bruised all over. But when he exited his ship, he walked with his masked head held high. His confident stride, however, held a bit of a slight limp. A shot from a blaster had grazed his calf, leaving him wounded. He tried to ignore the pain, but the could already feel that the bandage his leg was bound with was starting to leak, blood dampening his trousers. Exhausted, he made his way to his quarters, ordering a passing officer to send a medical droid to his room.

Unlike most who returned from battles, looking forward to whatever comfort they had, Kylo knew he had nothing to feel good about returning to. At least, comfort wise. He almost grimaced when he envisioned his baron room, knowing that rest and recovery was not an option. Or so he thought.

When the doors opened, his eyes widened beneath his mask. "What the-"

Kylo walked into the room, looking around in confusion. 'Did I walk into the wrong room?' he asked himself. He turned around for any telltale signs of his presence, and sure enough, there, to the left of the door, was a burnt gash where he had slashed his saber across the metal.

He turned back to the interior of the room, and stared at his new surroundings. The table was no longer empty, but had some bottles of sweet beverages and crisp water on top of it's smooth surface, and there was also a bowl filled with fruits. But that was not all. The tiny bed that Kylo once had, was now replaced with a lavish looking one. The frame appeared to be made from metal materials found and mined from Cantobight or somewhere from that planet's region. The bed posts were tall and had what appeared to be hooks on them, for holding/hanging articles of clothing. Kylo approached the bed and placed his hand on top of the black comforter that covered the bed. All his life, he never had anything quite as nice or comfortable. In fact, he felt he never deserved anything quite like this.

He took his mask off and placed it on the nightstand beside the bed. When he did, he saw a little piece of paper poking out from under one of the pillows. He reached over and pulled it out, recognizing your handwriting right away. As he read your little note, he felt a small smile spread across his weary face. When he was done reading it, he tucked it into his pocket.

That sleep rotation, after the droid had left and gave him the usual programmed "You need to rest" speech, he pulled back the covers, curled up, and for the first time in years, he slept, resting both his body and soul.

-End-

[promptedwordsmith]

LADS Prompt

LADS guys on your birthday, my birthday is coing up and i needed to write this. I don't know Zayne very well, I don't interact with him very much so I apologise if it isn't in character, I tried! XOXO

Rafayel:

Buys tons of presents and then struggles to choose between them.

Sometimes experiments by exposing you to different things over the weeks before your birthday to see what holds your attention best.

He is a god at wrapping things, goes above and beyond. Bows, ribbons interesting folding patterns and even includes little tabs for you to pull on for easy opening.

He does prefer using nautical themed wrapping paper but for your birthday he might even design his own pattern relating to something you’re interested in at the time.

Is a big believer in spoiling the birthday person, goes a bit harder each year, treats you like royalty all day, will do anything you ask with little to no complaint, possibly because he knows he’d get similar treatment from you on his.

When you wake up, he has decorated the living room and kitchen, and the ceiling of your bedroom is covered in balloons, you better believe he’d rather die than tidy it up though so as a last birthday present, he’d hire a cleaner to come.

Will work on a painting each year for you varying in size and subject and forces you to accept it regardless of the fact it would probably be worth more than you could ever even earn.

Xavier:

Understated excitement, he is buzzing to spend the day with you. He is his usual calm self, but he has this invigorated energy thrumming under his skin all day that makes him seem livelier even though he acts the same as usual.

Gets you incredibly meaningful presents. If he has a nickname for you, they may be related to that as well.

Is clingier than usual, he’s just so freaking happy that you want to spend your special day, your birthday with him, spends a lot of the day doing little acts of service for you and giving you affectionate little touches.

Is good at basically everything… except wrapping presents. He covers everything up so you can’t see the present with in but uses way too much, using an entire roll for four small to medium presents. Wants it to be secure so nothing breaks or if it gets ripped before your birthday there’s plenty of other layers to keep the surprise.

After a few birthdays you convince him to just start using bags, which he starts taping them an unnecessary amount, so you can’t peek.

Decorates the living room and kitchen differently each year which he keeps a surprise but doesn’t realise he isn’t as sneaky at decorating the bedroom while you sleep, pushing the balloons through the door which makes a squeaking noise. You never have the heart to tell him, and it becomes a fun little tradition for you.

You would find out years and years later that it was on purpose, when you’d catch him staring at you through the crack in the door, he wanted to build the excitement for you.

Zayne:

Zayne is definitely a wine and dine kind of guy, he doesn’t have much time off, or even time out of work full stop so every second he has with you he wants to be special. Every year for your birthday he would book a day off work so he could give you the works to make up for it.

Makes an itinerary, wake up later than usual, cook you your favourite breakfast, do an activity of your choice, take you out for a picnic for lunch, take you to an outdoor (like the museum or aquarium), take you back to change and then take you out for a five-star meal at a place he booked months in advance. Though if you don’t want to do anything he will immediately adjust for you.

Like one year you don’t feel up to going out at all, feeling a bit under the weather, he immediately drops everything, even the reservation, without so much as a fuss and doesn’t give you any grief about it ever, he just wants to spend time with you whether you want to be wine and dined or just loaf on the sofa all day.

Wraps meticulously and efficiently, it is always neat, and usually a solid colour packaging, with a few bows or ribbons distributed between them.

The same for decorating the house, he uses your favourite colours to decorate and usually has a theme every year.

His favourite thing is to spend time with you so every birthday he is by your side like glue, he is never clingy other than on your birthday and Christmas.

His favourite thing to do for your birthday is take you away somewhere, whisk you away to a spa or a bnb in a different city, loves knowing his time with you won’t be interrupted.

[preeningpisces]

Non-curse AU! Choso is a big ol' nerd

A/N: As a big ol' nerd myself I feel passionately about this, so I have way too many thoughts repost bc it wasn't showing in the tag for some reason

Below the cut because I'm a yapper!

♠ Definitely the type to meet his S/O through discord because I think non-curse Choso is much shyer than regular Choso

❥ He wouldn’t be an admin. He’d be the quiet type that’s always there reacting to posts but rarely talks. Has the sickest emotes tho

❥ Prefers smaller discord communities, mostly video game servers

❥ I think he'd like the vaporwave aesthetic and all the RBG setups. Keeps his computer area neat and tidy

❥ Choso fucking loves video games. He'll buy those $300 special edition pre-orders and get the cool figures

❥ HUGE Soulsborne fan. His favorite is Bloodborne (on the nose but I couldn't resist). Also really loves Monster Hunter. Cares a lot about the monster's details, like their eating habits. I think his fave would either be Odogaron, Nargacuga or Zinogre.

❥ Picks the edgiest weapons lmfao. Definitely a longsword user in Monster Hunter. Went blood build in Elden Ring

❥ *Sigh* he does consult reddit for his builds and is a min-maxer. I'm afraid Choso is a reddit user but in a 'I need a thorough understanding of this' kind of way

❥ Function over fashion: he dgaf if that helmet is as ugly as sin, it gives him +2 endurance and he's gonna wear it

❥ Lets you create his character & name them & everything.

❥ If you can't be present for the character creation portion, he'll make his character you! Definitely made you his dream guardian in Baldur's Gate 3 (which in the early access was called the Dream Lover, which is even cuter)

❥ Not pretentious at all about what is/isn't gaming, and plays all sorts of genres

❥ LOVES NINTENDO GAMES. Mario has a special place in his heart. DEFINITELY mains Shy Guy in Mario Kart

❥ Will literally cry and die if you play video games with him. You don't have to be good because he'll happily teach you. Just watching him play and asking about the details will make his day

❥ Definitely would do those cute Animal Crossing museum dates. Loves the relaxing, chill music so much. Despite his min-maxer approach to other games, he's absolutely not a time traveler in Animal Crossing. He's of the mindset that it ruins one of the core features of the game

❥ Stardew Valley? Stardew Valley. Honestly, I can't decide who he romanced first. My heart is telling me Leah, but chat pls advise

❥ Speaking of chat, you just know he's a fan of let's players. Always watching a YouTuber or Twitch Streamer. He's a Markiplier fan. You know it, just accept it

❥ Tbh that's a cute thought: Choso being a fan of the reader that's a small twitch streamer. Should that be a thing?

❥ Really good at singleplayer games. AWFUL at pvp

❥ He'll play something like Fortnite or Overwatch for Yuji, but needs to be hard carried because he only plays when someone asks him to. He can't stand how toxic those communities are, and doesn't want to socialize with strangers just to play a game

❥ He gets HEATED SO EASILY when people are toxic, especially if it's directed at Yuji or someone else he cares about. Definitely the type to step in and check other ppl when they're being toxic. Like those clips where it's a woman in a lobby and the dudes all start being sexist. Choso will not let that shit fly!

❥ Teabag him if you want to see him lose his shit

❥ On the note of Overwatch: the only character he can and will play is Mercy, and he just pockets Yuuji the whole time. Yuji has to beg him to heal/boost their teammates

[hatkuu]

Your Secret - Kylar x reader

gn! hidden omega reader x alpha kylar

cw: omegaverse, obsessive behavior, male kylar, gender-neutral reader, classic kylar behaviour.

"I know your secret."

He's overly invasive. Pinning you against the grubby alleyway wall; heavy, panted breaths slip from his parted lips as his clammy, sweat covered hands restrain your own.

You seethe as you speak to him. It's your final line of defence, after all.

"What are you even talking about? You creep!"

'He's all talk', you assure yourself, hugging your arms to your chest with a bitterly sour expression on your face as Kylar looks over you. His scent is overpowering. It coats the inside of your nose and mouth; thick and viscous in the air.

You aren't sure if he knows-- because, well, he can't know-- your secret. But with the way he's staring into the soul of your very being, looming over you like he knows you inside and out; like he knows the red of your innards and the instrusive thoughts swirling in your head. You swallow. There's no way he knows.

He croons the words like they're something you'd be blushing over. Like those words are the answer you've been looking for, for so, so, so long. The Omega inside you swoons, so happy that a viable mate has finally noticed you! But it's Kylar. The creep from your English class; not a mate-- not an Alpha.

"That's no w-way to talk to your Alpha, Omega."

You hiss, retching yourself away from his grip-- you want to make him bleed-- you want him to get away! Kylar only smiles down at you, unaffected by your aggressive behaviour. Coated in a thick, heavy blush, Kylar's face couldn't be more unnerving to you. You'd prefer if he held a knife to your throat rather than this.

"M-My poor Omega... S-So unsure of what t-they need!"

He pauses, then snatches the scarf you wear so diligently around your neck, revealing your swollen, angry scent gland.

His voice is thick with conviction, triumphant that he's finally caught you. The supposed 'Beta' that avoided him like the plague no matter how many times he tried to catch you alone. He knew something was wrong; something was off about you.

"Don't try and hide your true self n-now--"

...

Your scent; too crowded, like a stack of papers suffocating a paper weight rather than sitting neatly underneath it.

Your demeanour; you didn't hang around with anyone. Not typical of a Beta. At all.

You were hiding some dirty, horrible secret-- and Kylar needed to know what it was.

Not covered up by layers upon layers of clothes, cheap deodorants and perfumes, just pure you.

So he slipped through your bedroom window-- landing softly, knowing which floorboards to avoid and which to step on-- like he's done this a hundred times. Your room was clean-- far too neat and tidy for someone to be living in-- But Kylar can smell it in the air, and it sends him reeling.

Your real scent.

He pants, his heart thumping against his ribcage as his fingers twitch at his sides.

Prying upward, Kylar discovers all of the parts of yourself you tried to hide.

This is it-- This is why he's been so drawn to you. You're his. His Alpha knows it. He knows it. No stupid pairing rules or guidelines are relevant-- you smell far too good to not be his. His knees buckle beneath him as he crumples to the ground, too overwhelmed by everything around him. As his body hits the floor, a board comes loose.

...

He rattles your missing suppressants in his hand, relishing how you cry out in confusion.

"You know... only Omegas use these. I-I was r-rather confused when I f-found these in your room, (Name)."

"You fucking stalker--"

"It all made sense, y-you know. All the layers you wore in summer, the perfumes and the other s-shit."

He snatches your wrist, your skin buzzes and hums at the touch of an Alpha. You whimper, so desperately trying to pull away from him even if he smells so good.

He smiles, pulling your body close to him so that you're chest to chest.

"I-I need to take those suppressants!" You sob, struggling against Kylar's grip, attempting to snatch back what was rightfully yours-- the one thing that kept your secret hidden.

"Y-You can't hide from me anymore..."

"I know you're mine--"

You yell out, sobbing louder as Kylar clamps a hand over your mouth to shush you.

"--You try and hide it but I know the truth..."

He smells the air, breathing you in like an aphrodisiac-- like you're the best thing he's ever smelt in his whole life.

"I would've had you even if you weren't an Omega!"

The walls of the filthy alleyway shrink in on you, the outside world is silent-- the only sound you hear is Kylar's heavy, haunting breathing. His eyes are fluorescent, a bright sickening green that makes your insides shrivel up and close in on themselves as he ogles you.

"But you are," He purrs, crooning sweetly at you.

"you are, and you're--"

Kylar smiles. It's all teeth and nauseatingly unbridled joy.

"...You're all mine."

The secret's out.

[99hook]

I would love an NSFW Alphabet:) hope this helps...

NSFW Alphabet template

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

F= Favorite position

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

H= Hair (grooming habits)

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Omg this is great! Thank you!! I hope you love it!!

NSFW Alphabet

A - aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

He likes to cuddle afterwards most of the time so, after he pulls out he’ll roll over on his side and pull you into his chest. Sometimes he’ll just stay with his cock buried inside while he holds you tight.

B - body part (their favorite body part of their own or their lover’s)

He loves his body simply for all the things it can do to you. He keeps himself conditioned so he can always provide that groundbreaking orgasm for you, and he knows he’ll always be able to meet every single one of your needs. As for you, he has a thing for your lips. Doesn’t know what it is but he loves them. Kissing them, rubbing his thumb over them, and especially watching them circle around his cock.

C - cum (anything that has to do with it)

There’s something about filling you up that makes him want to lose his mind. He loves to fuck it back into you and watch it drip down your thighs. He loves everything about giving you every last drop and making sure you take it all.

D - dirty secret (pretty self explanatory)

When he’s away from you and he needs that release, if the time zones are a big difference and you’re asleep or at work, he’ll go into his private album and pull up the videos you’ve taken and get off on them. Mans doesn’t even need porn anymore

E - experience (do they know what they’re doing)

He hasn’t had a whole lot of experience but you’re the one he’s learned most of it with. In the beginning of your relationship he was a little shaky but now that he knows your body like the back of his hand, he has figured out everything you like and exactly how to make you come in under five minutes if needed.

F - favorite position

This one changes a lot because he’s always trying new things. At the moment he loves when you take all the control, riding him specially for the view he gets of your body, and the fact that he can just lay back and let you use his body in all the ways you need to.

G - goofy (how serious are they)

Mans is always serious when it comes to sex. He focuses on your body and all the reactions he pulls from you like it’s his profession. He’s intense and he’s no nonsense under those bed sheets

H - hair (grooming habits)

He always aims to look his best for you, so when he’s back home with you he’s typically neat and tidy, but when he’s gone for a couple days/weeks from you, he doesn’t care to put all that much effort into shaving. He’ll just do a little trim and go about his business until he gets back to you

I - intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

It depends on the day and the mood. Most of the time he prefers the roughness and the filthy talk, but then there’s times, like when he’s about to leave for a little while, that he’ll slow things down and take his time with you. In those moments you get kisses showered all over your body and slow, deep thrusts as he stares into your eyes knowing it will be a little while before he gets to do this again

J - jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

When he’s away from you on the road it’s an every night thing, however when he’s home it’s only if he’s aiming for the sex to last all night long. So he’ll be in the shower and he’ll get the first one out the way, that way he can fuck you til daylight, lasting as long as you possibly want him to

K - kink

He loves the typical dom/sub dynamic most of the time. There’s nothing like making you beg him to let you come while he mercilessly fucks into you. Daddy kink whether he wants to admit it or not, when you moan yes daddy, that man could and sometimes does come on the spot. And he has a thing for tying your wrists to the headboard so you can’t push his head back when his tongue going to work on your clit.

L - location (where they like to get it on)

He could look at a bench in the middle of NYC and fantasize about fucking you on it, but he doesn’t get too extreme for the sake of getting caught places. He likes the thrill of thinking you’d get caught but he never wants to actually get caught so, a locked bathroom at the arena or the back of the car in the parking lot after his match is his style when it comes to being a little risky.

M - motivation (things that make him tick/turn him on)

Seeing you front row at his matches is number one. He gets an adrenaline rush and he usually ends up getting security to bring you back stage as soon as he heads out. Also whenever you wear his chain around your neck and nothing else, such as when he catches you fresh out the shower, the man can’t help himself. And he loves fucking you with nothing but that gold cross around your neck.

N - no (turn off, absolutely won’t do)

He’s had threesomes in the past with a buddy and a random girl, but that’s not happening with you. He would never be able to handle seeing another man’s hands on you. He would quite literally break them.

O - oral (receiving or giving and how skillful are they)

As mentioned, the man knows your body better than his own. He knows exactly how to use that tongue and prides himself on that. He could spend hours between your thighs happily. But as much as he loves to give, he loves to receive in return and you’re more than happy to drop to your knees and let him grab a fistful of your hair while he fucks your throat.

P - pace (how fast are they and how long do they last)

Depends on the day and mood again but, he does love to get fast and rough more often than not. He will repeatedly slam his hips into you until he feels his muscles ache. He loves it mainly because you can’t control yourself and you always end up clawing his back, pulling his hair, screaming his name, all the works. And he usually is able to keep it going for a while. He’s perfected lasting as long as you need, and if he can’t, he’ll make it up to you by using his fingers and tongue instead.

Q - quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Most times, yes. He likes to see how fast he can make you come and will always keep record of how long it took before your orgasm hit you and he’ll be aiming to break it next time.

R - risk (do they like to try new things)

He’s usually the one to bring up some kind of fantasy he has but disguise it as “a dream he had last night” he’s a bit of a wild card when it comes down to it. He wants to see you in all the different scenarios he can think of. And if you bring up an idea to him, he’s more than willing to fulfill your wants and wishes.

S - stamina (how many times can they go and how long does each round last)

He prides himself on this too, because he can go as many times as you ever want him to. He’s never the one stopping first. He sometimes likes to take his entire off day spent under the bedsheets, fucking until the sun goes down, or until you’re the one who can’t take it anymore

T - toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or their lovers)

He likes to bring out a vibrator sometimes if he just wants to make you come quick, but his favorite thing is handcuffs. Most times he wants your wrists locked behind your back while your face is buried in the pillows. Other times he wants you cuffed to the bed, and every so often, he will let you cuff one wrist to the headboard, but he always ends up breaking the chains when he can’t take the teasing anymore

U - unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy the suspense themselves)

He loves to tease, but when the tables turn, he can’t take it as well as you can. He loves to make you squirm while your hands are locked against the headboard and his forearm is keeping your hips pressed to the mattress while he agonizingly slowly swirls his tongue around your clit, but when you’re the one kitten licking his cock and barely wrapping your lips around the tip, hell get so sexually frustrated that he’ll be a groaning, growling mess

V - volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He’s a dirty talker through and through. He loves to play a condescending role when he says things like “look at you taking daddy’s dick like a good girl” and he especially loves it when you dish it right back to him. He’s also a heavy breather, his huffs can be heard from down halls, along with his low groans that he doesn’t care too keep quiet, because you’re always louder than he is anyway

W - wildcard (random simcannon of any sort)

“If you keep looking at me like that, ima have no choice but to bend you over this bar and fuck you right in the middle of this club”

X - xray (what’s down below in them pants)

He’s a bit above average length wise, way above average in girth.

Y - yearning (sexdrive level)

He’s always horny. It’s a given. You never have to ask if he wants to fuck, the answer will always be yes regardless. All it ever takes is one look from him and you can see it in his eyes that he wants you.

Z - zzz (do they sleep after and if so how quickly)

He likes to cuddle after, but it won’t be long before he falls asleep with his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest. However, if he senses that you want to go again or you’re not as satisfied as he wants you to be, he can be wide awake again in a split second ready for another round.

[edelweissbarnes]

• Sunshine and a little bit of hurricane •

Bucky Barnes x supersoldierF!reader Edelweiss (OFC)

A therapy session can change the perception of oneself? (Angst, mention of torture, mention of su!cide, bad self talk and bad self image, fluff)

Dr Reynor’ studio is neat and tidy, the giant picture of a forest, on the wall behind the sofa you’re sitting on, is placed to soothe the frustration of being closed between four walls. You watch the rain fall incessantly outside on the not so busy streets of Brooklyn Heights, the gentle pit pat against the glass is relaxing but the brisk click of your therapist’s pen brings you back to reality. You look at her and let out an exasperated sigh.

“You don’t talk, I write, remember?” She murmurs looking at you.

You exhale and you lower your gaze to your hands.

“since we talked about the tub, my nightmares got worse.” Your tone is more harsher than you wanted to, but it’s difficult to hide your frustration to not be able to sleep peacefully with your boyfriend. It’s a strange thing but you feel like you have a rock in your chest, a weight that makes it difficult for you to breathe, let alone sleep.

“Do you want to talk about what happens in your nightmares?” She asks, her tone is calm and even motherly.

“I’d prefer not to but I’m sure you’d be pushing it by telling me something like ‘talking about it makes it easier to move on’… easier my ass…” you reply bitterly before getting up from the sofa and nearing the window. “ there’s only one thing that I know for sure: I don’t want to feel ever again the way I felt back there…” You whisper looking outside.

“If you’re not ready to talk about your nightmares I’ll wait…it’s ok, Y/N.” Dr Reynor replies gingerly, like she’s talking to some scared animal.

“None of this is fucking ok…” you bite back. “ being here is not ok, what happened to me is not ok, what I became is not ok. They broke me and I’ll never be fixed” you can’t help the bitterness in your tone.

“What makes you think that you need to be fixed?” She asks quietly, you can feel her eyes on you.

You chuckle and you turn to look at her “ can’t you see?” You gesture to yourself with a scoff.

She smiles at you “ you’re not the darkness you endured. You are the light that refused to surrender. You’re a survivor Y/N, but you don’t need to be fixed. you need to understand the person you are now and you need to remember that you’re not alone. You have James…and now even the Avenger’s crew” her words hit you hard, even if it’s difficult for you to really believe them.

You turn again to look outside “ after the tub, they couldn’t wipe me because doing both would had been too much for my already fried brain. That’s when I had some glimpse of my memories…fragments…I remember lying on the bed into my cell and even if I was exhausted I couldn’t sleep or even breathe sometimes…. Everything in that cell remembered me of James… every bloody time they left us alone, every kiss, every scar or bruise that we left on each other…we were so emotion starved that sometimes even pain was ok…just because it made us feel something…and the fact that he was gone without me was overwhelming” you murmur quietly closing you eyes, your memories so vivid.

“back there I thought several times about what it would be like if I killed myself...if he would miss me...would he cry?…but then the thought that he was gone and he left me there got me like’ why should he care?’ Why should I care?” You pause “ you know that he wants to propose? Did he tell you? I found the ring hidden in our closet…” you chuckle bitterly. “If he thinks that he was fucked up, when he was the winter soldier, he must reconsider because I got worse…really worse…In that cell I shutted down, I went completely numb…and every time they got me out for some mission it was always a bloodbath ….the more gruesome, the better…they wanted a killer machine? I obliged them…sometimes even enjoyed the killing…” you confess, your tone heavier then before, shame and disgust easily recognizable. “How can he desire to marry a damaged good like me?” You whisper just before the timer rings gently reminding you that your time is up.

“Don’t mind showing me the exit…I know the way…” you murmur pushing both your hands in your leather jacket’s pocket before moving toward the open door, as you are her last patient of the day and the two of you are the only ones left in the building.

She stands from her seat “You’re not damaged good, Y/N. What you did back there was a survival behavior. None here can judge you for that…. We’ll talk about that next time” she murmurs calm without trying to stop you.

Once outside the building you turn up your face to look at the cloudy sky, it’s raining heavier than when you get here. The chime of your phone claims your attention and when you take it out of your pocket you notice a message from Natasha.

“ mission alert. Meet me at the tower. Hill’s office in 30.”

“Copy. I’m on my way” you reply before getting your hood up and stepping into the rain. You make just a couple of steps before your vision goes black and you collapse on the sidewalk.

When you open your eyes, the white light on the ceiling is blinding you and you let out an annoyed whimper before you squint and turn your head to the side trying to evade that annoyance. Your head is pounding and you feel disoriented.

“She’s awake” you hear a feminine voice whisper gently.

“Thanks God…love, I’m here…” The voice of your boyfriend is low, you can feel the relief in his tone and finally you open your eyes to look at him.

“Where…where am I? What happened?…” you pause for a moment “ my head hurts so bad…” you murmur quietly trying to sit in the bed.

“We’re at the tower, at the medical bay…you went to you therapy session with dr Reynor…you had to meet with Tasha a couple hours ago…when you didn’t show up she alerted me and then dr Reynor called, telling me she found you collapsed on the sidewalk outside her studio…you scared the shit out me, doll” he explains while his hand caress lightly your face. You sigh loudly before slumping against the pillows. You feel an itch on your arm and when you look down you see that you have an IV attached. Before you can articulate any of your concerns you hear the door of your room open and Bruce made his entrance.

“Well, well…look who’s awake!” He murmurs too cheerfully for you taste. You let out a frustrated groan.

“ you scared us a little but don’t worry..it’s seems you just got a mild concussion and you’re a bit dehydrated…nothing too concerning for your condition…” Bruce replies with an encouraging smile.

“My condition? What do you mean?” You murmurs, looking at him with concern, you know for sure that you boyfriend got the same expression looking at the scientist.

“I…I thought you already knew…” Bruce stutters, trying to arginate the situation.

“What are you talking about Bruce? Am I dying?” You retort with a hint of panic in your voice.

He starts to laugh loudly and you give him a murderous look.

“No no…for heaven sake no! You’re going to be a mum” he murmurs giving you a reassuring smile.

“Wait, what?” Bucky asks with wide eyes. You try to rise from the bed but you feel your head spinning and nausea coming up leaving a disgusting taste on your tongue so you slump again on the pillows.

“Bad time for a joke Bruce…” you reply bitterly while you search for some water. The scientist is looking you movement and promptly gives you a glass with some ice cubes and water.

“ recently have you experienced some brain fog, nausea, maybe throwing up sometimes? Sensibility to smells? The sudden urge to eat ice or to take a nap in the middle of the day?” He asks politely.

“Yeah, my health hasn’t been great lately and so? My bloody nightmares are keeping me awake most of the nights…it natural that I want to nap during the day!” You reply quietly.

“When you had your last period, Y/N?” He asks you.

You look at him with wide eyes and for a moment you’re speechless. You don’t know when your last period was. You turn your head to search for your clothes, you know that your phone has the answer you need.

“My phone…I need my phone…” you whisper and you see Bucky promptly searching your jacket to give you your phone. With trembling hands you search the app where you track your menstrual cycle and to your surprise,when you open it, you see that your period is 4weeks late.

You gasp quietly and you lift your gaze from the phone to your boyfriend.

“Ok, I get it, you need to talk… I’ll leave you to it…” Bruce murmurs before exiting the room leaving the two of you alone.

The silence between you two is heavy. You look at him, his jaw clenched and his gaze low, as it’s too much to bear. He feels responsible to put this weight on your shoulders, who would want to carry the former winter soldier’s child?

“ I… I can’t be a mother…” you whisper, your eyes full of tears, the words you spoke with dr Reynor are haunting you: why would he want YOU to be the mother of his child? You and your fucked up brain.

He sighs quietly.

“ I know it’s a difficult situation and I know that’s my fault…I should‘ve been more careful…” he murmurs, guilt in his voice “ I shouldn’t burden you with this situation…I know that you love me and I’m grateful for that every single day and I’ll be for the rest of my life but I know it’s too much to carry my child.. who would want a father like the winter soldier?” He concludes with a whisper lowering his head.

“No, no…” you whisper cupping his face to look at him in the eyes, you can feel his pain and it kills you every time he felt so insecure due to the past he endured, he never had a choice. “ no James, you’d be a wonderful father…attentive, generous, protective, a perfect father…it’s me…I’m the one fucked up…I can’t be a mother…after all they did to me, I’m too damaged…I can’t be a good mother…and this child don’t deserve a mother like me…” you started to quietly pouring down all your doubts, all the fears that are haunting you, your sense of unworthiness, the “truth” that you think you had the choice to become what you become.

“Don’t you ever, EVER, speak like that again!” The way he’s grasping you by the arms, shaking you slightly to gave his words more power leave you speechless.

“You’re not too damaged, you’re the bravest, kindest being I’ve ever known in my entire life, despite what happened to you, you managed to explore your own darkness and save your heart. You stayed pure even if you walked through a fucking hell.” His choice of words is kicking you in the gut.

“I’m not as pure as you think!” You shout with desperation.

“ you are! Do you think I don’t know what if feels like to numb yourself and become what they wanted you to be? It’s easier than being wiped out every single time! You did what you had to do to survive and you can’t forgive me and do not forgive yourself for living and experiencing the exact same damn thing!” He shouts back.

Your sobs start silently before taking every fiber of your being and you fully start to cry, he hugs you tightly and you realize that the weight you felt on your chest is disappearing.

“You’re not too damaged. You’re not what they made you become.you’re strong as vibranium, love.and yes, you’re pure… You’re not even a ray of sun, you’re the whole fucking sunshine….and a little bit of hurricane…”he whispers in your ear while gently caressing your hair until your sobs subside.

He sits on the bed and he gently maneuvers you to sit in his lap so he can look at you in the face.

“Love, I know it’s a difficult situation and I’ll accept and I’ll love you no matter what you choose to do. It’s your body and it’s your choice. Do you want to make a family together?” He murmurs quietly.

“I’ve always wanted a family of my own…” you whisper “ I want a family with you…but I’m scared…” you confess. He hugs you.

“ that’s ok…if you want this…if you’ll have me…we’re in this together…” he murmur kissing the crown of your head.

“ you know that Dr Reynor will freak out when she’ll know that we’re having a baby?” You joke and the laugh that vibrates in his chest makes you giggle while now you feel the weariness of the whole day upon you.

" I think I'll take a nap..." you whisper softly before snuggling against your boyfriend.

“I’ve got you mama…” he whispers holding you tight against his chest and lulling you gently into sleep.

[icedbatik]

get to know me game (I was tagged by @rimouskis and @sportsthoughts ... thank you both!)

do you make your bed?

Yep! In part because I like having a nicely made bed, in part because I use my bed as my design board/work space when I'm quilting. And, in part, because it's an easy way to have some small bit of tidy space in a house that has too much stuff. (My core being is "neat freak" but my reality is "please pull a truck up so I can toss stuff out the window".)

what's your job?

I am a newspaper copy editor/writer.

if you could go back to school, would you?

It depends. Would I need to keep working? Would it put me in debt? I like learning, but I already don't have enough time in my day to do everything I want to do. If I had to write term papers and study for tests while working a full-time job and still taking care of my household (groceries, laundry, meals, yardwork, running errands, all the other odds and ends involved), I think I might crack.

can you parallel park?

Yes, though I rarely have the need. (If you follow the instructions carefully, it's amazing how well it works.)

do you think aliens are real?

IDK. I accept the reasoning that it's unlikely we're alone in the vastness of the universe, and that it's a bit arrogant to think we're the only ones. But I also think it's unrealistic to assume others take a form we'd immediately recognize. And, if there is intelligent life out there, why, exactly, would it mess with us?! Have you seen us lately?!

can you drive a manual car?

Yes. My brother loaned me his pickup truck to drive after I graduated from college. (He didn't need it at the time because of his job.) The idea of not having to make a car payment was great incentive to learn.

guilty pleasure?

I'm not sure I feel guilty about any of my pleasures. But they include Tumblr/fandom, writing fic, Pens hockey, quilting and a daily mug of good-quality hot chocolate.

tattoos?

I have a permanent spot on my skin from when I accidentally stabbed myself with a pencil as a kid. I'm pretty sure that's as close as I'm going to get. (Mine is big enough and dark enough that doctors routinely panic when they see it, thinking it's skin cancer, until I remind them we've had that conversation before.)

favorite color?

black with all the bright colors, particularly the off colors (fuchsia, turquoise, teal); and all the blues that make up the ocean (There's a reason why batik is my favorite type of fabric. Solid colors aren't nearly as interesting as lots of colors playing together.)

favorite type of music?

The most straight-forward answer is rock, particularly classic rock, though I like a lot of different types of music on a song-by-song (or artist) basis. Most country music doesn't do much for me. My last two musical purchases were Disturbed's cover of "The Sound of Silence" and Sufjan Stevens' "Illinois" album, which is the basis of "Illinoise" the Broadway musical.

do you like puzzles?

I guess you could say that, since I quilt and "Tetris" is my favorite video game.

any phobias?

I'm not into snakes. I'm trying to do better about not panicking over them, but I still have absolutely no desire to see them, whether in my yard or in a photograph.

favorite childhood sport?

Riding my bike.

do you talk to yourself?

Of course. (At least, that way, I know someone is listening to me!)

tea or coffee?

Nope. I prefer drinking clean water to dirty water. (The idea of having a cup of tea is appealing, but the reality has never done anything for me.)

first thing you wanted to be be when growing up?

A photographer.

what movies do you adore?

"Dave" and "The American President" are both older movies but they have lead characters (Kevin Kline and Martin Sheen Michael Douglas, respectively) who are kind of my fantasy president. Can't find funding for this program that helps children? No worries. We'll just stop paying $500 for a screwdriver we can get at the hardware store for $5 and use the leftover $495 (per screwdriver) on food programs and after-school programs and utility-assistance programs. It's not that hard.

I'll tag @pr-scatterbrain and @maljic and @ehghtyseven and anyone else who wants to play. (Maybe I want to know you and just don't realize it yet! )))

[fanfic-lover-girl]

I Finally Watched Encanto

And it was very underwhelming. I don't get what the hype was about. It was mid at best. The best thing about it was probably the visuals. Oh, I loved the variety of skin tones! Usually, I don't care about skin colour in movies but for some reason, it stood out to me in this one. The intro and outro scenes were good too.

I am not a film expert so I can't convey what made the film fall flat for me. But here are some things that I found lacking:

The music is not memorable and I found it hard to immerse myself in it. I absolutely hated Surface Pressure. Some parts of We Don't Talk About Bruno were nice to listen to but it still wouldn't make the top 10 of my Disney songs list. It's not a song I would sing to myself. I can't even remember any of the lyrics besides the title namesake. I think my favourite piece was the Caterpillar song that played for Abuela Alma and Pedro. Maybe partly because it's in Spanish so I have lower expectations for it lol. Since I barely speak Spanish and all.

The family members kind of felt like plot devices? That just appeared when the plot called for it? I am not sure how to explain it but the main culprit for me was Isabela. She was basically a nothing character who was just there in the background being a prima donna and rolling her eyes. Then once Mirabel supposedly has to confront her, she has all this major development in like 2 mins and finally cracks? Luisa was way better because I saw her insecurities and how weakness made her feel worthless throughout the movie. I don't understand why Cousin Camilo was needed in the movie. His dad was good enough comic relief. I loved Antonio at the start and his relationship with Mirabel. I wanted to see that relationship more in the movie so much. But then even he began to feel like a cheap plot device.

How Bruno was handled was unsatisfying. The whole plot about Bruno just felt contrived. Bruno is supposed to be the family undesirable who no one talks about...but Dolores knew about him the entire time? The ending with Abuela and Bruno felt so rushed too. I thought the climax would have involved Bruno more but he just showed up at the end and now everything is ok? Bruno was just a way to show Mirabel how special she was and once that happened, everything about Bruno was wrapped up in a neat tidy bow.

The plot development was poor and felt like a plot in an adventure game. Gave me similar vibes to the plot in The Rise of Skywalker. How Luisa just happens to know Mirabel's starting point. How Mirabel just happens to find Bruno when the dude has been living unnoticed for how long. Even the ending with the butterfly almost made me roll my eyes.

The powers felt underdeveloped. I don't understand the limits of them and why only the Madrigals have them. Well, I guess it makes sense for the family to have the miracle to themselves as a kind of comfort for Pedro dying...like men don't sacrifice themselves for their families nobly all the time. How much weight can Luisa lift? What is the range of Pepa's powers? Mirabel said in her song that her mood affects the weather but the movie mainly shows the weather just affects her individual space. How do they control them? What if someone abuses their powers?

Anyway, its not a bad movie but I wouldn't watch it again. I preferred Coco over Encanto. The family relationship felt more developed and the focus was just on the family members relevant to the plot. The Abuela in Coco was more sympathetic and the generational trauma was way more justified there. Plus the music was better and the plot development felt more organic. I would watch Coco again. Encanto is just meh and seems a tad overrated.

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS23 One Shot: “Deluge”

My first entry for this year’s @cssns23 event is a one shot based on a prompt I saw on Tumblr some years ago. A cloaked person breaks into the bookshop where the protagonist works. His glowing eyes transfix her as he grabs her wrist, baring hidden symbols on the protagonist’s arm and proclaiming, “It’s you.”          (I would love to give credit to the original poster of the prompt, but I do not remember the user’s name. Whoever you were, if you see this, THANK YOU for the inspiration!)

I’m also incredibly grateful for @xarandomdreamx for her wonderfully encouraging and astute beta work, and to @eastwesthomeisbest for the TWO stunningly gorgeous pieces of story art she created for this. I love looking at both of them, and have posted one here at the start, and one in the text where the scene occurs, so you all can enjoy them both too. Thanks again to both of you lovely shipmates!!!

Summary: From the moment the cloaked stranger stepped through the door, Emma Swan's life was forever changed. She could never have imagined how much though, and that she would never want to return to the way things were before...

(This can also be found on AO3, if that is your reading preference...)

Rain poured down, beating on the roof overhead and sluicing across the windowpanes, blearing the world outside as she squinted to peer through. All day long it had been quiet and gray, the impending storm threatening to keep anyone from entering the tiny, overstuffed shop. However, despite the boredom, Emma Swan found herself still lingering past closing time, hardly anxious to brave the wind and rain that had at last been loosed outdoors.

Besides, the uninhabited silence was far from unusual; Emma spent most of her work days dusting, sweeping and tidying the stacks and shelves of the pawn shop’s open design and ostentatious displays, with little to no interruption or interaction at all.  Waiting on company, from either rare customers or the proprietor himself was fruitless for the most part, so thankfully she’d never minded largely being left to her own devices, not having to bother with small talk. 

She had locked the entrance door and flipped the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ some time ago, dimming the lights as well, so that any curious passerby who might see her finishing up her tasks wouldn’t assume it meant they were welcome to shop late. With her gaze falling idly back to her hand swiping the dustcloth back and forth on the counter near the cash register, Emma sighed hoping the rain wouldn’t keep her there all night. Mr. Gold, the owner, with his superior attitude, three piece suits, and gold-topped cane, did not stop to check in often, but he wanted things tidy and precisely as he wished when he did so, and so she’d kept busy until the place shone.. 

From the beginning of her employment, Emma had easily sensed that the man did not run his odd little emporium for needed income; however, what she was still puzzling over some months later, was what his purpose might be instead. Nevertheless, she kept things organized and neat, and herself well aware of each item’s place, if not its purpose, whether or not it was necessary, as those who entered seemed to come already knowing what they sought. Even rarer, she turned a carefully blind eye when particular souls came desperately seeking Gold himself for something which could not be bought in stores - at which requests the man always managed to preternaturally appear.

It was strange. She wouldn’t even try to deny it. But she had felt open and exposed, on the run, for too long, and she liked the off-putting impenetrable feeling of the crammed corner shop. It felt hidden, safely ensconced and forgotten, unseen. Yes, when the gentleman himself slowly and deliberately limped in, his shrewd eyes seeing everything, he did make her more than a bit uneasy. Her skin crawled beneath the long sleeves she couldn’t help tugging at to cover her skin, if his keen stare focused on her for too long. 

Still, she needed a job, and it paid well without demanding much of her. Not that she was without ambition either, but she’d had too much drifting and uncertainty in life thus far to walk away from something at least partially stable too quickly. Beyond all that, in the oddest of all ways, the things and their troubling owner, as well as the shop itself, needed her to keep watch; she felt it down to her bones.

Having finished dusting and re-alphabetizing the rare and limited edition tomes displayed in their prime location along the wall behind the counter, and with only a few lights left to douse before she had to leave and brave the stormy conditions, Emma ran her fingers rather proudly over the leatherbound and gilt-edged spines she had lined up precisely to beckon the right customers, who would know what was within their reach. As silly as it felt to care for a hodge podge of antiques, collectibles, and curiosities on a narrow, forgotten city street, she couldn’t help the pleased warmth in her chest for a moment at the sight of a job well done.

So she startled when the little bell over the door jangled with someone’s abrupt entrance, blown in with the swirl of wind and raindrops that slammed the door closed in a resounding snap behind them. Spinning on her heel quickly, and with a startled gasp she couldn’t quite restrain, Emma’s nerves jangled with alarm and awareness in equal measure at the tall form standing just inside the door, shrouded almost completely in a dripping dark green cloak. Unmoving, unspeaking, and yet holding every ounce of her attention, the being stood panting and facing her as drops of rainwater falling onto the floor made the only sound.

Her momentary fear tossed aside, Emma straightened her spine, eyes burning as she faced the intruder. She could have sworn she’d locked the door as well as moving the sign to closed, even if he had ignored honoring the common courtesy of business hours. Wary but determined, she moved carefully to the end of the counter, moving to step out from behind it and see that this trespasser moved on. She wasn’t foolhardy either though, and she held a pewter candlestick behind her back that she had picked up unseen and would not hesitate to use if the need called for it.

“I’m afraid we’re closed for the day,” she stated plainly, even if it was more of a hoarse croak than the automatic statement she’d aimed for. “You’ll have to come back during normal business hours.” Something crackled in the air between herself and the still-silent interloper, as she came to stand just a few feet before…him.

Oh, she could tell that it was a man standing before her now; that much was certain. As she’d drawn closer, she could glimpse a strong, dark-stubbled jawline partially bared by the hood haphazardly draped over his head. The large hands fisting and unclenching repeatedly at his sides, as they worked to forestall some tension, were unmistakably masculine as well.

Yet, settled as she was that it was not some unearthly monster standing before her, it did not keep her from stumbling backwards into one of the numerous bookshelves with a cry of alarm when he lurched forward toward her, grasping her wrists in a strong, inescapable grip and choking out, “Is it really you?” His voice was rough like metal being raked over gravel in its intensity. “After all this time…”

It was then that the hood fell back, exposing his full visage to her and nearly stopping her breath. There was no other possible reaction; the man before her was stunning.

Tilting her head back slightly to take him in, her eyes trailed from the disheveled dark hair standing up from his head wildly, to the thick, strong brows near black as ravens’ wings, the proud broad shoulders and lean frame practically vibrating with some energy she couldn't quite grasp, back up to the startlingly deep faceted blue eyes, glowing like twin diamonds.

Wait, no - glowing?!? Emma shook her head, disbelieving her own sight as her mouth fell open and she involuntarily tried to take another step back. There was no denying the proof in front of her. Unblinking, his eyes glowed with an unearthly light, near mesmerizing her with the effect.

As he’d swooped forward, trapping her in his grasp, Emma let out a strangled gasp. The press of his body against hers, had her coming to rest heavily against the end of one of the long bookshelves; the heavy candlestick she had hoped to use against him fell nervelessly from her fingers to the carpeted floor.

Wide and frightened, she felt as though her own eyes might pop out of her head, but she forced herself to raise them and meet his implacable stare, trying to appear unafraid, despite trembling in every limb. Clenching her jaw with resolve, Emma willed herself not to wither at his close proximity and obvious strength. Fruitlessly she tried to push him back, only to find it impossible. In truth, she hardly wanted to. It was an instinctive reaction, but as the tall frame somehow pressed closer still, his height looming over her in a way that overwhelmed but warmed her deliciously, her nerve endings tingled. Possessive or protective, Emma wasn't sure which, but she could not truly pull away, shivering as the stranger continued to stare down at her - blue eyes seeming to penetrate beneath the surface of her soul.

Shaking her head, Emma struggled to put the questions flying through her head into words, but nothing came.  The sound died in her throat with a pitiful squeak she shuddered to recognize as her own. What was happening to her? Who was this man, and what did he think he was doing? As if forgetting that she was pinned between his frame and the solid barrier behind her, Emma once again attempted to step away, to gain some distance, only to be brought up short.

The man still held her wrist circled in his grip like an iron band. Her mouth went dry as he pulled it forward and shoved back the sleeve she always kept pulled down to her wrist before she could even attempt to stop him. Wordlessly, he stared at the skin he had exposed, his focus narrowing, even as she shook in fear. Her awareness was like a shock of electricity at the feel of another’s eyes on the bared skin she had hidden for so long.

This time it was the mysterious interloper who drew in the sharp breath, stunned and unsure, frozen for a second at the impact of his discovery. Emma’s eyes fell to take in the oddly beautiful markings that stole across her skin, up from the pulse at her wrist to just past the bend of her elbow, scrolling and twisting, curled around her forearm and each other like intricately inked tattoos in a pearlescent, unearthly jade. She hadn’t sought them out though; the markings had been a part of her for as long as she could remember. And though Emma felt connected to them, found them pleasantly comforting, she had learned long ago to keep them from sight. Others were troubled by them - confused, concerned, frightened or disgusted; none of the reactions she had seen were pleasant. It was easier to avoid their detection altogether, though it meant shrouding a piece of herself.

But the look in his disturbingly captivating orbs reflected none of those expected responses. He appeared almost entranced, as if he would brush each whorl of color with feather-light lips if she allowed it. It was a strange thing to think, and yet she knew it with unmistakable clarity; despite how intimate and gentle the action would be from someone so abrupt and unexpected - a complete stranger so far - she could see it in her mind’s eye.

“It really is you,” he breathed, reverent low voice whispering in her ear almost musically. “After all this time…Emma. I’ve found you at last.”

Her brow crinkled immediately, and her pulse kicked back up at the inexplicable familiarity. In her consternation, her words found a sharp voice. “What?!? Who are you? And how do you know my name? What are you talking about, ‘found me’? I’ve never met you!”

Standing up to his full height, Emma was stricken by the infinite sadness in this stranger’s deep gaze as he looked down into her face. Gently, he shook his head from side to side, and his next words escaped in a longing whisper, “Ah Lass, but you have…”

Opening her mouth to argue, Emma shook her head uncomprehendingly. Though he had released his grip and retreated a step to give her room to breathe, her visitor continued before she could interrupt.

“You do know me, Emma. You simply cannot remember.” He paused, seemingly trying to gather himself, swallowing hard and cheeks flushing a red that spread even up to the tops of his ears, which she realized were uniquely pointed where they peeked from his mussed dark hair. “This will sound like a made-up tale, but I have sought you for so long. You have been alone, and you deserve to know why.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed, focusing  on his handsomely shadowed face. She prided herself on being able to read others well - to see their truth or their lies in their bearing or their expressions beyond the words they spoke. And she sensed nothing but honest sincerity in this man, making what he said next all the more staggering.

“I am Killian Jones, Captain of the Guard of the high fae court of these lands. You are fae as well, Emma, born to our people in the forests near here. You were left as what is called a changeling, with a human caretaker, when you were a mere few hours old. It happens often among our kind,” he hurried to add, seeing the shocked and hurt expression on her face. His hand rose yet again, as if to forestall anger or tears, even if she couldn’t yet believe any of his nonsensical words. She knew she had never quite fit, never known her family, but to claim she was of another species entirely?

Finally, she had to break in, catching his hand and jerking it toward her, forcing him to feel her seriousness. “K-Killian, is it?”  She spoke hesitantly, though she felt quite certain she would never forget the name he had offered in that voice, or the look in his eyes, as long as she lived. “You can’t mean any of this. It’s insanity! Why would I believe you?”

Killian’s eyes fell to the floor, dropping contact with hers so completely that she felt the loss like a chill through her insides. He sighed again, the sound forced from his lungs. When he spoke, his words were the barest murmur, melancholy and pained. He raked a hand through the fringe falling over his forehead, but was gentle when he took her wrist once more, turning her hand palm up and carefully inching back the long sleeve which had fallen back down to cover her skin.

“You do not have to believe me. I realize, as I have said, that this all sounds far fetched. But I also think that, deep inside yourself, you know I’m right, that something has always been different about you, setting you apart. This is why.”

Those mesmerizing blue pools rose to envelope her again, and he seemed willing to wait for her signal, her permission to go on.

It was only once she gathered a shaky breath and gave a short nod of acquiescence that he continued. “You see,” Killian intoned, the cadence becoming a soothing lilt the longer she listened to him speak, her eyelids fluttering as he lightly traced the loops and swirls along her forearm, dancing over the veins and nerve endings in a sweet caress. “I was the one to place you in the human home. The woman and man who lived there were poorly matched. He did not care for her as much as for his own pursuits, though she had not yet seen the extent of the dark shadow in his heart. She loved books and learning and wished desperately for a child to care for, to share all her stories with and bestow her love upon. But she could not conceive. We knew she was aware of the legends and lore and would understand the gift you were, as our people often seek to leave fairy infants with humans for a time. The child is cosseted and cared for, and we return for them when they are able to live and move about the forest as the rest of us do.”

Biting her tongue, Emma forced herself not to interrupt with questions. She had always carried only vague memories of her earliest years - jumbled and impossible to put together in any kind of order. Just as she could sense he spoke the truth, she felt she was finally on the cusp of having answers, as wild and outlandish as they might appear. The story was about to take a turn, and she waited anxiously for it.

“You were placed in the home of this strange spinner and his beautiful young wife. And though he had no true interest in you, she loved you dearly. It had been my duty to choose the home, and it seemed, in watching from a distance, that all was proceeding as it should. She carried you with her wherever she went, whatever the chore, hardly letting you leave her side for a moment. Her happiness was complete in at last having a child on whom to shower her affection, even knowing she would not have her little one forever. Unfortunately, none of us realized… and I… I failed to see… the folly that was coming.”

With the cloud that passed over his sculpted features, Emma suddenly grasped the truly ethereal beauty he possessed. It would only make sense if he were not a mere mortal man. His troubled visage made her wish to comfort him, to assuage some of his clearly felt guilt. She almost told him he did not have to keep speaking, but she needed to hear the rest.

“There was an uprising. Another group of our kind, from another realm, twisted and changed by greed and thirst for power, attempted to overrun us and take our kingdom as their own. The conflict was long and bitter, and though we prevailed, fought them off, and send them back from whence they came, many good and powerful fae were lost. There was much damage and confusion. When things were at last put to rights once more, and I resumed my patrols, it was discovered that the old spinner had at last let his baser nature, his desire for strength and influence, overwhelm him. His dear wife had finally come to understand his nature and had fled from him, taking you with her. Observation told us that her former mate had gained some manner of dark magic of his own, and that he had learned of the changeling who had dwelt beneath his roof. Hurt and angry, and vengeful to a fault, he used all the means he had to seek his poor spouse - no woman should leave him as she had, he reckoned - and you… He became convinced you were the key to holding yet more magic and power in his grasp. Though we continued to keep an eye on the old scoundrel, his former wife and the fae child with her - you, Emma - seemed to have vanished without a single sign. Until you came to our attention, only recently, here in this shop. And… I had to see for myself.”

Emma felt her heart thudding in her chest so strongly that it seemed to slam against her throat, climbing up to pound and echo in her ears and blur her vision. She shook her head mutely as tears clouded her eyes. She didn’t want to fall for any of this, and yet somehow her heart recognized it as the truth. Though she couldn’t remember it all, she remembered glimpses of being rocked and held by a crackling fire, an unusual accent that she’d never heard since telling her tales in the sunlight and summer breeze. Had she possessed a mother after all? One she just couldn’t recall? Why else could she not summon anything before coming to this town some few years ago and scraping by on the streets as a pickpocket until she was old enough to seek honest employment?

Blinking the tears away, Emma looked down, only to suck in a rasp of breath in shock. The ink along her arm, that had always seemed a dark, marring emblem to keep covered and unseen, now shone with an ethereal light under Killian’s fingers. Transfixed, Emma reached out to touch the suddenly glowing marks for herself, finding the skin slightly warm, but otherwise just as it had always felt. Meeting the open, welcoming gaze of Killian Jones once more, she wasn’t sure how to respond, what question to ask first, utterly flabbergasted and overwhelmed. She honestly tried not to hold the bit of knowing swagger on his face against him, particularly when he smiled again through the pained regret which had radiated from him as he told the tale. True, he must have known her arm would light up with its strange insignia, but he had tried to prepare her and keep it as the last proof to make her see that what he told her was true.

“They’re runes, Lass. Fae symbols unique to each of us, identifying us to one another when words are not possible - or in cases such as yours when all else has been forgotten.”

Gulping down the lump in her throat, Emma aimed for gentle teasing, though the rasp of her words made them sound less playful than intended. “Cases like mine? I hope it doesn’t happen very often!”

Immediately, a furrow of worry puckered the skin between his brows, and that clear guilt and self-recrimination passed back over Killian’s face. Nodding to her in quick deference, he murmured, “Of course, right you are. I only meant… they are another way to bring a fae’s true nature to light, when all else fails…”

Releasing her arm, he turned to face the darkened street through the window outside. Emma got the definite sense he was ashamed to meet her eyes now, as if he deemed her more angry than she actually was. She was confused, surprised, uncertain, but not as upset as one might expect. She had been helpless to put the fragmented bits of memory together until he came. Her past had always been a mystery to her; who she was, where she’d come from, and where she belonged, was always a shrouded blank that she had no way of bringing into focus. It had felt as though something was missing, and now she knew why. Relief and knowledge were both coursing through her with a rush she could barely contain.

She didn’t want him to blame himself or to mourn what was long past, and before she could second guess or pull back, Emma had closed the space between them once more, laying a hand on his shoulder in a gesture she hoped would bring comfort. “Why are you taking all the blame?” she asked carefully, causing him to twist quickly, eyes full of surprise at her calm curiosity instead of harsh accusation. “The little I remember of who must have been the young woman you left me with is pleasant. I don’t know what happened to separate us, but it would seem you chose well. You couldn’t have predicted what would follow.”

Shaking his head adamantly, as if warding off her attempt to free him from responsibility, his broad shoulders rose and fell heavily while he heaved out a ragged breath. “Don’t you understand?” he ground out at long last. “I failed you. I was meant to be your guard. I was appointed to bring you back into the fold when the time came. Instead I - I lost you, and you were cut off in the world. Without your people, your heritage, any idea of who you were and what you could do. You should hate me, Emma. You have every right, and I would not blame you… I already blame myself.”

This time, when he finally turned to face her, Emma could see the moisture he would not allow to fall clouding the brilliance of his seaswept eyes. His jaw was clenched so tightly she could feel the muscle working in his cheek; his conflict so obvious she was powerless to do anything other than lift her hand to stroke her fingers along the spot, anxious and needing to ease the ache. “But don’t you see?” she rejoined in equally fervent tones. “Now I know… after feeling so alone, so blank and lost, I finally see why. It isn’t just that I’m strange and unwanted; I belonged somewhere else. All this time, I was not nothing. I was never nothing. You’ve shown me that, and… while I may not understand everything yet,” she blushed, and let her gaze fall slightly to where his chest rose and fell erratically, and her other hand now toyed idly with the open collar of the tunic beneath his cloak, drawn by the warmth radiating from him despite the cool evening air around him and the lingering dampness of his clothes from the storm outside.

Killian trembled beneath her touch, eyes falling closed, attempting to hold himself back. Then, as if snapping free of the self-imposed restraint, his dark lashes flicked up, baring her to his stare once more, and he turned his head to press full, tender lips to the inside of her wrist, over the strange tattoo that had fascinated and puzzled Emma all her life. The runes, as Killian had called them, seemed to flare to an even brighter life at his touch, and she held her breath, struck by how good it felt, giving herself over to his reverent ministration.

Murmuring against her sensitized flesh, he assured her, “Of course you are not nothing. You have always been something special. Always.”

A moan of pleasure left her throat at that; his lips and his words both a long-needed balm to her heart and a heady pleasure that rushed through like a tidal wave. Pressing nearer to his solid frame, she suddenly felt as if she could not get close enough. Not unless she burrowed inside him and under his skin.

She was only momentarily surprised, and thoroughly pleased, when he flipped their positions, this time bracing her between the counter and himself and bending her back over the surface with the strength and passion of his kisses, moving from her arm and up her neck to claim her mouth ravenously. Emma had never felt such a thrill of connection to anything or anyone in her life, nothing even came close enough to compare to the tendrils of awareness mapping throughout her insides and setting her alight to a degree she had not known was possible until that moment.

Keening low in her throat, not caring how desperate it might sound, she grappled with clutching fingers to pull him closer still, to rise on the very tips of her toes, and bring her face on a level with Killian’s, aching almost to drink him in through hungry lips and be merged as one. His breath was warm on her throat as an answering chuckle huffed out of him on an unsteady gasp. Both of them were panting when the kiss broke, their foreheads resting together as each of them attempted to draw in needed air, eyes dancing with pleased mischief and happy discovery.

Her eyes followed every tiny movement he made, as Killian’s sweeping gaze raked heat along her body from the top of her head all the way down to her feet. When his tongue flicked out to trail along his lower lip enticingly, Emma felt her own copy the gesture, anxious to taste him again, and allow him to once more taste her. “What say you, Emma?” he pressed avidly, “Shall we sail away from here?”

And indeed they did. The one good thing perhaps to how long she had spent adrift  was how little it took to be ready to go with him. She traveled light and had never collected many possessions she would truly miss. The offered hand and hope for answers, for companionship, for a future and a home, were enough to seal her decision well beyond any hesitation she might have harbored.

Stealing away that very night, her cryptic employer found no trace of her upon entering his shop the following morning. He’d had his suspicions of just who and what this Emma Swan he had hired might be. He had intended to lurk stealthily, watching and waiting to see if she was indeed as powerful as he suspected and how he might make use of that power. Once he had ascertained what he needed, Gold had hoped to keep her there, adding her into his collection like another of the rare trinkets in the shop she tended, a boon to be possessed. That she might well be the child his younger wife had doted on and adored so many years ago gave him not a moment’s pause. He had long believed the infant to be the reason his Belle had finally left him and so sealed her tragic fate. If this Emma were indeed that babe grown, it gave him all the more reason to see her put under glass, where her beauty and strength could benefit his aims, but do him no harm.

That she had slipped through his fingers and escaped without a trace - and taken some of his most potent, and therefore most valuable, wares in her flight - drove him to smash his shop almost to pieces in a fit of rage and tormented him the rest of his miserable long life.

But Emma at long last was free and at peace. Once she and Killian crossed the borders of that small village and passed into the deep, surrounding woods, a weight lifted from her shoulders, lightness suffusing her being in a way she had never before experienced. The scales fell from her eyes, at last allowing her to fully see the beauty of this place which had been just beyond her reach all the time.

Every cell in her body seemed to tingle. She was lit from within and fully alive. Killian beside her smiled knowingly at her expression, understanding just how she felt. Perhaps he did, to some degree. How long had he spent searching for her? Blaming himself for her loss and missing some piece of himself as well? He had always been meant to be her protector, and now at long last he had guided her back to her people, her place in the world.

When she turned to look up at him beneath the branches overhead and with fireflies just beginning to light the air in bright pinpricks around them, he took Emma’s breath away with his tender eyes and gentle touch. With the way he gazed at her, she knew as he leaned closer that the kiss he was about to bestow would be different from their previous ones - soft and lingering, but no less astounding in its effect.

The sensuous warmth in his touch and the feel of his lips on hers swept Emma up in sensations she never wished to escape; she wanted to wrap Killian around her and never let go, savoring every moment. Humming into his kiss, she placed both hands on his cheeks, caressing his face before teasing over the pointed tips of his ears and threading into the dark hair at the nape of his neck, anchoring herself to him. She knew there was so much more to learn and to see about this place - her birthright - and this man before her, but she couldn’t wait to tackle it,  anxious for what lay ahead as she had never been before. She wasn’t about to let go; she would hold onto this chance - and Killian Jones - with both hands and every breath that was in her. Emma had finally found the love, the home, she had always missed, and she wasn’t about to leave it again.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @darkcolinodonorgasm @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @drowned-dreamer @xsajx @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @zaharadessert @bdevereaux​ @caught-in-the-filter​ @xarandomdreamx​ @eastwesthomeisbest​ @goforlaunchcee​ 

[murainhell]

Any headcanons for radioapple or radiorose you won’t be able to add/address to your fics?

This is an interesting question and you have made me think more than I expected haha

Usually, if I think about the characters and how they interact with each other, I tend to do it around a story. So there's a good chance it's already in fic or comic format in my head. Especially as I always move around QPRs with Alastor. Thoughts on him? Plenty. What would he do on a Friday afternoon with Rosie? Hmmm, let's see… *starts writing a scrip* (<- literally what has happened with an idea with Alastor and Vox).

But! After thinking about it, it turns out that I do have ideas in my head that I assume to be true for my stories but I don't think I'm going to be able to talk about. So here are a few:

Alastor and Lucifer 📻🍎

Completely obsessed with them bonding over music, playing instruments and dancing. This is something I wish would also happen in the canon series; they've already sung a song together, they can throw knives at each other in the morning and give a concert in the afternoon lol. But I don't think I'll do anything with that, because there are people who have explored it before. And yes, two cakes! But I don't know anything about those things, I wouldn't know how to describe the situation well. But I assume it's something they do in my fic some evenings; no need to talk, just enjoy the moment.

First activities they do, now what they DON'T do: cooking together. Watching his workshop in canon, I see Lucifer as a very messy person in the kitchen, not cleaning up because, well, magic sorts it out later! Let's experiment! While Alastor has his own chaos, but within absolute control of the situation. He's had time to learn how to handle a crime scene, so it's all neat and tidy in his own way. I did mention this in my fic in passing, but I'm sure I'm not going to add a whole scene of them trying (and they have tried), because it would give me a headache haha

Alastor has a small collection of things he has taken from Lucifer as mementos. In my fic, I think I remember Lucifer thinking in one scene that he doesn't mind leaving Alastor alone in his room because if he wants something he's sure he'll have slipped in before to take it. He was right. Alastor currently has the red monster figurine (which is totally cursed cat), several ducks, some Lucifer blueprints (the best way to disagree with them, make it disappear and the other may forget it existed), and a couple of things that might be relevant in future one-shots, we'll see.

Alastor and Rosie 📻🌹

More tricky because it's more like I haven't had time to sit down and do anything more with them, but some ideas that are in my mind that aren't in any of my fics for now:

Alastor leaves Rosie gifts, especially when they don't have time to see each other. A little ‘I've been thinking of you’. Sometimes roses, sometimes books, it depends. (If any of you are interested in this, it's a good time to recommend this fic "Fawning Over You" by Bexii. It does have a romantic tone, but I really enjoyed it, it's lovely.).

Even if they get along well, they both have a plan in the back of their minds on how they would try to defeat the other if it came to it. They are both smart and need to be prepared for everything; they just trust that day will never come.

On that note, it's exciting for Rosie to be able to trust him! Because of her relationship with men, her current solution to arguments is to get them out of the way, it's not worth the effort the moment being with someone is no longer fun. But Alastor has survived by her side many years and has never failed her. Actually, I think they could both bond around the “ugh, I don't understand men" since he also prefers the company of ladies haha

And I think this is enough for now. Sorry for writing so much oops

[preservationofnormalcy]

I moved into my current place about 3 months ago and I'm pretty sure there's a tommyknocker or similar entity occupying the basement/crawlspace. Which I'm fine with. The basement always seems neat and tidy and I'm pretty sure they fixed the ceiling fan when the landlord ignored my emails for 3 weeks. What are the appropriate niceties I need to observe here? I assume leaving food out and such? I get a lot of take out, do they have any preferences?

Oh, wow, you're super lucky, knockers don't just choose anyone; they must really like the vibes of your place.

So step one would be to set up a contract/shopping list with them, just outlining what they can and can't touch and what food/material goods they would like best as repayment; like everything else in the extranormal world, each knocker is an individual person. Some want pizza, some want cute doll clothes, my old roommate grew up with one that would only eat those strawberry grandma hard candies.

I know Norm had a file on them around here somewhere, he was telling me a story about miner's unions setting up union cards for the knockers in their particular mines so they weren't working unrepresented.

Anyways, just treat them with respect and enter into this new partnership with an open spirit of friendship and cooperation, and everything will be fine.