#idk how he does it but he always has a full guard and a half

[vancilart]

me n my boy gonna mess u up

[blueberrybirdsworld]

The Cat Distribution System 3/5

Summary:

When a stray kitten adopts Lando Norris, the self-proclaimed cat hater accidentally starts a soft-launch spiral with his secret girlfriend the ballerina Ariana Riverria.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : Fluff, SMAU

Warning : none, just yeah the kitten will be different in some pictures

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

CHAPTER THREE :

Lando came straight from the airport, suitcase still half-zipped and hair a mess under his hoodie, but none of that mattered the second he walked through Ariana’s apartment door.

Because Charlie came sprinting.

“Hey, little gremlin,” Lando grinned, dropping his bag and scooping the ginger kitten into his arms like he hadn’t just been gone for a week. Charlie immediately nuzzled under his chin, purring like a jet engine.

Ariana stood in the doorway to the living room, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

“Hi to you too,” she said flatly.

Lando looked up. “Oh, hey, baby.”

“You cuddled the cat before your girlfriend.”

He plopped down onto the couch, Charlie still glued to his chest like a furry magnet. “He missed me. He told me. With his eyes.”

Ariana padded over in her fuzzy socks, climbing beside him with a mock pout. “I missed you too. But sure, let’s prioritize the four-pound fluff ball.”

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you,” Lando teased, leaning in for a quick kiss—careful not to disturb Charlie’s position, of course.

“Mmmhmm.” Ariana settled beside him, watching Charlie stretch and promptly curl back up in Lando’s lap. “You’ve changed.”

“How so?”

“You used to talk about getting a dog named Charlie. Now look at you.” She gestured at the kitten. “This is your son now.”

“Look, I didn’t choose the cat life,” Lando said dramatically. “The cat life chose me.”

Ariana snorted. “More like you got emotionally blackmailed by toe beans and tiny sneezes.”

“…You weren’t supposed to say that out loud.”

They both looked down at the kitten snoozing peacefully between them.

Right on cue, Aria—Ariana’s majestic white cat—jumped lightly onto the couch, making a beeline for Charlie. With a regal air, she sniffed him, gave him a light headbutt, and proceeded to curl around him like a living blanket.

“She’s adopted him,” Ariana whispered, watching the two cats nestle into one another.

“Guess we’re stuck with two cats now,” Lando murmured, his arm wrapping around her shoulders.

Ariana leaned her head on his shoulder, lips brushing his collarbone. “Honestly? I kind of love it.”

Lando smiled down at the sleeping fur pile. “Yeah. Me too.”

@landonorris

"you think he can come to podiums too? asking for a friend."

@maxfewtrell: is this permanent?? is the kitten a full-time team member now??

@oscarpiastri: i’m concerned and also emotionally invested

@charles_leclerc: does he need a seat for the team briefings?

@f1spygirls: not lando planning his life around a kitten now 😭

@catsoftiktok: we love a proud cat dad

@arianasribbons: i swear to god this is the same kitten that was cuddling ariana's white cat weeks ago

@arianariverria

"house is no longer mine. i live under feline rule."

@pliésballet: WHY ARE THEY ALWAYS TOGETHER NOW

@kitteninfirst: aria has literally adopted him i’m crying

@balletxpitlane: are they dating or are the cats dating?? at this point idk

@pietra: the cat co-parenting is real

@softverstappen: this is how we piece things together and i feel ALIVE

But what really set everything off was a clip from a post-race press conference. It was a short interview, nothing out of the ordinary—until it wasn’t.

The question came from the third row.

JOURNALIST:

"Lando, there’s a lot of talk online about you adopting a kitten. Is it true? Weren’t you famously anti-cat?"

Lando chuckled, clearly caught off-guard, but not rattled.

LANDO:

"Yeah, well... things change. He found me, actually. I didn’t choose the cat life, the cat life chose me. I named him Charlie."

He grinned at the laughter in the room. A few seats down, Carlos raised an eyebrow.

CARLOS:

"You like cats now, huh? Just cats?"

Lando:

"Don’t start, man."

CHARLES:

"That kitten has better PR than some of us."

LANDO:

"He deserves it. He’s cute."

The internet, naturally, exploded.

Twitter Thread by @f1slashballet:

[1] OKAY this press conference is the most accidentally revealing thing I’ve ever seen.

[2] Not Carlos throwing shade with that "just cats" line 😭

[3] Charles literally dragged his whole PR team to the grave in one sentence

[4] AND LANDO DIDN’T DENY A SINGLE THING. He said the cat found him. The cat. AKA Charlie. AKA Ariana’s kitten-in-law

[5] And then there's this frame-by-frame comparison: hoodie match. Couch pillow match. Cat pattern match. Everything matches.

@balletzone: the men are messy and i support them @chaosandchoreo: charlie the kitten is the main character and everyone else is just background @catdadconfirmed: love changed him. and a kitten sealed the deal

@landonorris insta story (deleted)

"Okay maybe i like all cats now."

The story was gone within minutes.

Deleted.

But not fast enough.

Fans immediately recognized the white cat as Aria—Ariana's famously elegant companion. Screenshots spread like wildfire.

Twitter Comments:

@balletxgrid: THAT'S ARIANA'S CAT. AND THE CAT IS NAMED ARIA. I NEED A MOMENT.

@chaoticpolecat: why is he deleting stories now???? BE LOUD

@slowmo_softlaunch: i’m so sorry but they literally adopted a kitten together didn’t they

@f1cryptic: this is the softest rollout i have ever witnessed

@teafortwo: charlie + aria = chariana canon

Back at Ariana’s apartment, the cats were curled up together on the windowsill.

Aria had started grooming Charlie’s ears lately, and Charlie followed her around like a shadow. It was ridiculously wholesome.

And maybe, just maybe, Ariana was finally starting to understand why Lando had fallen so hard, so fast for this little kitten.

Even if she still had to fight for cuddles when Charlie was in the room.

It wasn’t just co-parenting anymore.

It was... something else.

Part 4

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist !

[yellowballoondogs]

Giving the x-men disabilities so they can suffer like me

I just think it’s cool how much people can relate to the x-men in marginalized groups no matter the group. Just like how they’re all gay, POC, religious minorities, etc.

Cyclops- Scott Summers

C’mon this is the most autistic man to ever autism

He’s got model plane sets and shit around his otherwise empty and perfectly cleaned room with the sheet corners tucked in and everything

He stopped stimming because of O’Diamonds and Sinisters abuse but started again when he got more comfortable with the o5 team. He definitely does flappy hands

He probably hyper fixated on an obscure engineering subject

photophobia- light sensitivity

Idk if it’s cannon or not but it would make sense with his brain damage and all (plus I have it and I’m projecting) it’s also an autism symptom so double whammy- his glasses will help

Migrainous stroke- basically stroke with migraines. It ties into brain damage and photophobia with migraines which would make so much sense. Frequent strokes too? Fuck yeah let’s highlight how his childhood trauma and overwhelming power effect him- how mutant powers aren’t always good.

He should have really shitty vision- canonically colorblind- wears glasses all the time so low light, his eyes basically fucking glow. This man cannot see for shit

“cut the red wire cyclops!” “They’re all red!”

Storm- Ororo Monroe

She’s canonically claustrophobic but it’s really only used as a once in awhile plot device

I think it should tie into anxiety a lot more

Ororo is the kind of person who uses a planner to manage every aspect of her day so she’s never caught of guard

She’s got only one timer set up to take her meds instead of 10 like the rest of us (she’s simply better)

She would have actual panic attacks that don’t end the second she’s out of a confined space. Full run-

For her a panic attack would cause a lot of derealization. She doesn’t feel like she’s in her body, she feels out of control, like she can’t breathe, dizzy, both hot and cold at the same time.

Nightcrawler-Kurt Wagner

syndactyly- fusion of fingers or toes. This is basically cannon. He’s got 2 big fingers and toes so like no explanation really needed. He’s got it even if it’s for different reasons.

This greatly effects his ability to do certain things- our boy can’t use a controller can he? How’s he meant to play Mario cart with the rest of the team ):

Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome- bendy bones and stretchy skin that causes lots of joint pain

He canonical has bendy bones so like this is also half canon. Plus I’m giving my blorbo chronic pain to project.

Pretty sure there’s a Spider-Man with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome too so that’s very slay.

Rouge- Anne-Marie

Hear me out- HPV It’s the whole- “I can’t touch anyone” thing

She was born with it

It causes a lot of pain for her but she hides it around people she’s not comfortable with (so really just unmasking in front of remy and her family)

Also stds just need to be a lot more normalized. And her having to be so weird about people with it fits so much with the whole “ew mutants” thing

Xavier

Yeah yeah he’s a paraplegic

They should be better about it though. No more of this curing him so often he’s like the one famous character wheelchair bound people get

Stop making him so weak, he runs a school to learn how to kick ass, man can probably box, who needs legs. They always just make him useless once someone kicks over his chair or something

Chronic migraines again

Listen hearing all those thoughts all the time can’t be all sunshine’s and rainbows. Make him suffer (this goes for all telepaths)

Gambit- Remy Lebeau

He canonically has brain damage (via lebeatomy) (haha get it)

He’s getting hit with migraines too. Making all these losers suffer

He probably also has very bad vision because of his eyes- probably not very good with light just like cyclops (likely worse)

I’m going to give him the worlds worst period cramps via dysmenorrhea. Yeah he’s trans to me I’m a romy t4t Reuther

Rapid fire listings let’s go!

Jubilee canonically has Dyscalculia- like dyslexia for numbers

Wolverine canonically has memory issues and ptsd

Magneto canonically has ptsd

Legion canonically has multiple personality disorder or DID- dissociative identity disorder. It’s not always portrayed the best but rep is rep

Angel canonically has hollow bones- I’m gonna gc him with osteoporosis

Headcanoning Madelyn Pryor with post partum depression

Scarlet witch gets head cannoned half of all the mental disorders- depression, psychosis, ptsd, and anything you wanna give her. Girl needs a staff of therapists, psychologists, and a cocktail of pills

Quicksilver gets headcannoned with ADHD. Boring I know but I’ve got it and it fits him so projection time

Let marrow have ptsd. Girl witnessed a genocide of her people and her moms death as a child. Why do they skim over that? Girl is suffering

Pyro canonically had the legacy virus which was like a big euphemism for AIDs so he gets that. Plus he also gets hit with the autism beam

Toad is autistic. No further questions

Jean grey gets the psychic migraines but I’m also giving her autism cause her relationship with Scott is nowhere near neurotypical. The biggest disability marvel gave her was liking wolverine though. He canonically smells like shit and is an asshole. I love him.

Kitty pryde gets type 1 diabetes- I cannot explain why it fits her it just does

Cable gets lupus cause he canonically had a fantasy space tech autoimmune disease so let’s just make it more realistic

Daken gets lactose intolerance (he’s fine because he doesn’t really actually eat dairy)

Iceman gets lactose intolerance (he’s not fine because he loves all things dairy)

Dust gets celiac disease

[rodolfoparras]

Woke up and thought: I need TF141+Rudy to be my princesses!! But then my brain went to Price as my princess!! (I tend to be one of those people who is kind of like mom friend, but also guard dog??? Protective as hell but absolutely remembers small details about you and somehow just knows your emotional state??? So I guess my brain was like: GIVE THEM THE PRINCESS TREATMENT!! ☠️🤧)

He’s older and has always been this gruff masculine man. Every partner he’s had has always been his princess, and while he did love it, something in him tugged and tugged until he realized it was wanting and jealousy.

So of course when you join and despite the profession you’re in, you’re so kind. Not in the sweet bbg way, but in the “I will take care of and protect you no matter what” sir yes sir way. And it throws him for a loop!

But he sees the positive affect, how around base the tension the TF used to carry despite being safe is ebbing away. And that tug of want absolutely starts to burn inside of him.

You’re not even this hulking beast of a man, but something about you just screams safety and protection. And the way you take care of them all, has a wave of heat flashing through him. The way you subtly check on Ghost because anything too overt feels patronizing to him, the way you make sure Soap can calm his anger properly and give him you to vent to, making sure Gaz is truly alright after a difficult choice and making sure he feels settled. But the way you check on him is just… more.

Hand at the small of his back, to let him know you’re there. Somehow you figured out physical touch grounds him. Giving him water and even bringing him food when he’s been too focused on paperwork. Somehow noticing all his little quirks and tells, and always being there when he needs it despite the fact he can do this by himself. Hell you’re the only one to figure out that he gets hangry… well more so grumpy hungry and always get him his favorite.

So of course he has to ask, granted he’s nervous but he does. And somehow it just leads to you giving him the full blown princess treatment he’s always wanted. Hell, that pool of arousal in his gut becomes ever so present when you actually call him princess! (Not forcible feminization, just princess title ☺️)

Idk I just want Price to be my princess, Gaz to be my princess, Soap to be my princess, Ghost to be my princess, and Rudy to be my princess. 🤧🤧 I want to love and dote on those idiots so much!

(If anything made you uncomfortable pls let me know! I will apologize! <33)

🐻‍❄️-

Hear me out sugar..

1.

It first started when you bought a new bucket hat for him. He’d jokingly complained that one more rough landing to the ground and his bucket hat would fall apart.

You had stepped up offered to buy him a new, being fully serious about it too

He had accepted the offer, even jokingly said he’d buy the most expensive one to make a whole in you wallet

But he found himself frozen in place when you picked out the most high end store for outdoor clothes.

He didn’t even know what to say when you walked ahead of him over to where the hats were displayed, searching high and low for the perfect bucket hat.

You hadn’t even asked for his size but instead put different types of hats on him, standing so close he could feel your knees knocking together, calloused fingers grazing his skin as you felt the material under your fingertips, feeling heat creep his cheeks as your eyes stayed glued to him.

For the first time he feels an unfamiliar sort of feeling bubbling up inside of him.

2.

Undercover missions were his least favorite type of missions. It involved a lot of play and pretended and visiting place he usually wouldn’t be in, like a bar full of people half his age, drunk out of their minds and barely able to stand upright.

Price enjoyed a pint or two but this was way too much for his taste, had a grimace painting his face, something you quickly noticed.

“Not a fan?” You say, chuckling at the man’s obvious distaste.

“Never been” Price responds, carefully weaving his way through the floor of dancing bodies, with you following swift behind.

“How about I buy you a drink?” You don’t even turn to him to see the look on his face, already signaling for the bartender.

You hadn’t turned around to ask him his prefered drink already knowing it by heart for whatever reason, and once again he finds himself frozen in place, from utter confusion.

The bar was full of people but somehow you had managed to snag a chair for him, signaling for him to take a seat while you’d be left standing and once again he found himself speechless but sat downin anyway. As he takes a sip of his drink he notices your eyes on him.

“Good?” You ask, carefully gauging his face and once again he feels heat creep up his ears neck and cheeks, only managing a nod to your question.

“I’m just going to the bathroom real quick,” you say with a sheepish smile on your face and maybe he’d chid you for picking the worst moments to do your needs but he couldn’t focus on anything else but your hand on his elbow, your hot breath caressing his face and the way your cologne assaulted his senses as you leaned into him.

All he can do is nod in response before he continues to sip his drink, praying the liquor will keep him from saying something stupid.

It’s only been a couple of minutes that you’ve been gone before someone’s approaching him and attempting at making small talk.

Although he politely answers the stranger’s questions, it’s visible that Price is uncomfortable, shoulders rigid, smile forced and fingers fiddling with a napkin forgotten at the bar.

Suddenly there’s an arm around his waist, and he stiffens further before your cologne hits his sense and he feels himself relax in your embrace.

He doesn’t know what you had said to the other man all he could focus on is the warm palm on his back, fingers tattically brushing against the silver of his skin peeking through the shirt he’s wearing. But whatever you had said made the stranger nod his head, glass raising in the air before he walks away.

“Thank you” Price says, turning to you with a soft smile on his face

“Just doing my duty captain” you say with a smile on your face as you pull your hand away from his waist.

Another unfamiliar feeling bubbles up in his gut, this one he doesn’t like so much.

3. He once again finds himself in a bar, this time by his own choice, a place he’d picked to celebrate a successful mission.

He’d maybe had one two or three too many drinks when the world had started to spin around him, and someone, maybe soap? Maybe ghost? Had asked you to take him home.

Maybe if he’d been in his right mind he’d turn red at the fact that you were seeing him in such state, maybe if he’d been in his right mind he’d be able to feel the jolts coursing through his body from where your skin touched his. Maybe if he’d been in his right mind he realized how close you were to him, as you slung an arm around his waist, easily supporting him with your weight before taking him back to base.

Next thing he knows he’s waking up in his own room, a bit more sober than before, two bottles of water laying on his nightstand along with painkillers.

There’s even a washcloth on his bed and somehow he’s managed to strip himself down to his boxer and undershirt.

However before he could try decipher how he’d manage to do that in his drunken state, he hears his bathroom door squeak open and immediately flies out of bed, grabbing the first thing in his hand to defend himself which just happens to be-

"Painkillers? Really captain? I’d never guess that would be your weapon of choice”

There’s a brief moment of confusion, before it’s replaced with relazation and only then is he able to respond to your comment “oh piss of” he grunts out, throwing the bottle to the ground before he sits back down in his bed, hand clutching his throbbing head.

He hears you chuckle in response before the bed dips beside him.

“Here” you say, handing him the bottle he’d just thrown away.

He looks between the bottle and your face, heat creeping up his own face before he takes the pills in his hand.

Before he can even ask, you hand him a bottle of water and he does his best to ignore the jolts coursing through his fingertips as your hands briefly touch.

“Thanks” he says before he throws back the pills, swallowing them down with the water you gave him, and only then does he notice how thirst he is, quickly emptying the bottle in a matter of seconds.

“Want more?” You say, offering another bottle laying on the nightstand.

“No” he grunts out before he turns to look at you. “What are you doing here?” He says before he abruptly cuts himself off “I mean this is my room- not that you’re not allowed I mean-“ he continues to run his mouth only ever shutting up once he hears you laugh.

“It’s okay” you say waving away his worries “you got drunk and I helped you get back home, you wouldn’t let me leave though” his eyes widen at that, mouth ready to run again before you’re waving off his words with the flick of your hand “i helped you get in bed and by the time I brought you water and pain killers you had passed out, I kind of made a mess of the bathroom looking for painkillers so I thought I should fix that before I left “ you say with a sheepish look on your face.

It’s only now he realizes that you’ve been the one to strip the clothes off of him, you’ve seen every scar every mark he’d kept hidden under his clothing and once again he feels heat creeping up his cheeks.

He shouldn’t be this comfortable being touched by a stranger while unconscious but you aren’t a stranger and you’d only ever touched him with care and consideration like now as your hand is hovering over his in case he doesn’t want you touching him.

“If I made you feel uncomfortable-“

“No!” He says a bit too hasty before he corrects himself “I mean it’s alright, thank you for taking care of me”

It seems like that’s all you need to hear for the worry to trickle out of your bones, shoulders slumping and hand caressing his own.

“Alright, good” you say with a soft smile on your face hand resting atop of his own before you pull away “well it’s late and I need to go to bed or else you won’t see me bright and early in the morning” you say as you get up.

Although you probably meant the training sessions you were supposed to have in the morning he couldn’t help the unfamiliar feeling from bubbling up inside, maybe he should call it familiar since he’s felt it a couple of times now.

“Sleep well captain” you say sending him a playful salute before walking through the door.

And as the door shuts close Price realizes one thing.

He’s fucked.

[brighttears]

heyy bright 😁 so i’ve been realizing that i think most of your fics are Jackson/ after QZ joel (correct me if i’m wrong though, this is just what i think i’m noticing) and i’m wondering what are your thoughts on QZ Joel? would you ever write for him? (^з^)-☆

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description except female sex organs and having hair, no use of y/n

Word count: 9.7k

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), unprotected PiV, dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, sweetheart, angel, good girl), creampie, Joel has a big ol weiner, drinking, mention of violence, blood, mention of prostitution (does not occur, has not occurred in the past), smoking (cigar, cigs briefly), sad!Joel for a minute but happy ending :), Tess doesn’t exist (sorry Tess)

A/n: you are right i’ve been noticing that i lean too much on Jackson so thank u for this request and i’m gonna try not to do that. had no intention of this being this long it just kind of happened lol. i know i didn't explicitly answer your question but i hope this explains some? idk this just came out of me so here it is i hope you enjoy !!!

—

Boston is ugly. It’s impossible to breathe a clean breath, impossible to get clean. Joel’s lungs are black and he doesn't smile. He may sleep, but he gets no rest, and you can see it easily in his eyes. The QZ is full of sickness—lying, cheating, stealing, there's no honor here. It's impossible not to have some of it rub off on you. It's almost impossible to see anything past it. Almost.

The first time Joel saw you he felt like a rat stepping onto a glue trap. He hadn’t realized he had stopped to stare until someone bumped into his shoulder, taking him back into the bustling street, and then you’d disappeared and he honestly wasn’t sure if he’d actually seen that beautiful girl or not. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, dropping dreams or ghosts down just to make things interesting. He mostly shook it off. Still, only half believing that you were even real, he’d catch himself scanning around, looking for you out in the streets. And then he saw you again, and again, minding your business somewhere across the street, painting over Firefly logos while under guard’s watch—never somewhere that he could get to. Every time he saw you felt like taking a hit of you, and he always wanted more. Whenever he found himself with too little to do, he’d set out, treating Boston like a maze to find you, slipping around booths and through speakeasies and alleys. Despite how packed Boston is, goddamn, you were hard to find. He was aware that it wasn’t… normal behavior, but that’s as far as he got in caring about that. It was a frustrating hobby, though, like an itch he couldn't scratch, because he didn’t understand what he was feeling, or what he wanted, or who the fuck you thought you were, doing this to him, or how he was going to get himself out of this one. He had to interrogate himself to figure out that what he wanted was for you to need him. 

He wanted you to be with him, never leave his side, never want to leave, and he’d be so good to you, he’d be the knight to your queen. You had him bad, you were driving him crazy. 

You had burrowed your way into his head. It was nice to have something to daydream about, though—your smile, a smile that he gave you, that’d be for him. He’d daydream about you dancing, you’d be twirling with your eyes closed, arms out, all lit up in orange light like evening sun but holier, and he’d reach out and your fingers would brush his and you’d smile with your eyes closed because you wouldn’t have to open them to know that it’s him. And then he’d spin you into his arms, wrap you up, hold you safe. He’d daydream about his hands on your stomach, holding your back against him, your hair on his face. He would dream about you taking his face in your hands, kissing him, loving him, fucking him. He imagined your voice—put together from small bites of ‘overheard’ conversations—telling him you’re his. 

They used to make rings for this shit. Now all you’ve got is metaphors and sex. What a world to love in. 

The problem with all of this, however, is that he wanted to know you already. Joel doesn’t know how to develop this kind of relationship, with anyone, actually, and he cringed at the idea of actually trying to do it. If he did even end up finding you, what the fuck was he supposed to say? He genuinely could not come up with an answer. So, thank god for Robert—never thought he’d be saying that, but on this day only, thank god for his cheap, dumbass tricks, and Joel’s dumbass for agreeing to trade with him, and being ripped off again, because that’s how you met. 

Being the coward he is, Robert had sent a third party to meet with you and him—apparently buying the same product—that somehow thought you wouldn’t check the goods, and then you spent the whole day together hunting that fucker down. You were the one who threw the first punch once you found him, and Joel liked that because he didn’t feel bad for hitting him, too. And then you got your ration cards back, and you came home with him. 

In just those few hours, a bond had formed, and all those days he’d spent looking for you fell away. Cliches were clicking in his head. He offered you his smuggled jungle juice and somewhere to clean off your bloody fist. 

Now, you’re here in his apartment, the door swinging softly shut behind you. Joel stands frozen across the room from you, a knee sticking out, unsure if you can feel the rope of tension between you or if it’s just him. He wants you here and it makes him uncomfortable. Mind blank and swimming at the same time, he’s not sure what to say. When he does, he can’t find the correct conduct, weakly and awkwardly jutting his chin out in a sort of nod. Finding himself unable to speak softly, his cadence is a mess that rolls through almost incoherently. He can’t believe how silly the sentence that came out of him is:

“Have you been lookin’ for me as hard as I’ve been lookin’ for you?”

You shift your weight. “Maybe.”

Joel barely ever has company. To be frank, the few times he’s had women over, it’s been for sex, and the longest they stay is if they fall asleep, and they’re almost always up and gone before he wakes. So, here is a beautiful woman in his apartment, and he wants you, so his first instinct is to get you in bed. That doesn’t feel right though—not because he doesn’t want to fuck you, but because he wants more than that. He doesn’t want a one night stand. He wants to savor you. He wants to know you. He wants you to stay. 

The unfamiliarity and lack of clarity of what to do here frightens him. 

“So you got a rag I can stain?” You break the silence for him, holding your hand to massage your palm with your thumb. 

“Yeah, uh,” Joel walks into the kitchen, flicking his eyes around. He knows what rag you can use but he forgot that it might be too embarrassing to bring out. There are not many options though, he can’t let you use the one clean rag he does have. 

“If you can’t find one it’s alright, I can use my shirt, I just need the sink.”

Joel turns to you, taken off guard, but catches telling details when he looks you up and down. Your jeans are dark so you can’t immediately see that there are brown stains around the ripped knees, and lines of more old blood are swiped over the side of your thigh, which he knows come from wiping off a blade. Realizing that you do in fact live in the same world as him, Joel opens a crooked drawer and pulls out a rag that used to be white but is now mostly brown with dried blood. Without looking at you, he wets the somewhat stiff cloth in the sink and hands it to you.

You barely pause, taking it casually. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He mumbles, hiking up his jeans and trying to covertly watch you wipe away at your hand. A large part of him wants to take your hand in his, wipe and dab at it himself, make sure it’s clean, and then bandage it, slowly and carefully. He wants to take care of you, show you gentleness and kindness, but, no matter how much he wants to be soft and personal, to connect, he seems unable to actually act on it. His face flashes in self depreciation before he instead goes to the floorboards in his bedroom, fishing around for that drink he promised you. 

A smile spreads over your face as he emerges back with the bottle and Joel almost stops dead in his tracks at it, at him, because of him. Well, because of alcohol, but he was the one providing it, at least. 

He trades you the bottle for the rag and you waterfall it while he scrubs drying blood from between his fingers. Your face twists up as you swallow and you laugh. 

While he watches yours, Joel can feel his lip curling up and he asks, “What’s that for?”

“This shit is pure. I’m used to it being watered down.”

“Oh, yeah. Got that from Robert, actually.” He tells you, motioning towards it. “One of the only times he’s been useful.” 

“What are the other times?” You stay smiling.

Joel mindlessly circles the rough cloth over top his hand and looks down when he answers, “Well, today.” Because he brought me to you. These half–admittances are escapees, like his brain can’t help but be truthful with you. No matter how much one side screams ‘danger’ at the other, he needs to do something to make an attachment, he needs you to know that he wants you around, he can’t let you slip away. He can’t get himself to say that last part, though.

You hum and hold the bottle out to him. He swipes the rag over his hand one last time, then tosses it onto the table and takes the bottle, wishing you’d let your lips around it so he could get a taste of you without taking any risks. 

Risks. What is he willing to do for this? For this feeling? How far is he willing to be taken with it? He can barely grasp the ideas behind it. It’s familiar, but what is it? How much does he care about its definition? He swigs. 

“Have you traded with Robert a lot?”

Joel nods as he swallows with a grimace, then elaborates, “You could say that. More like been ripped off by ‘im a lot.”

“So you’re a chump?” You smirk. 

Joel halfheartedly glares at you and you only smirk further. “No. Just desperate. Not a lot of options.” He passes the bottle. 

“So you’re the kind of guy who takes what he can get.” You say before raising it, to your lips now.

He almost chuckles, watching your mouth, “I didn’ take shit, remember?” 

You shrug and hand him back the bottle. “So what are you gonna do with all those ration cards now?”

Joel focuses on being able to tell what of what he’s tasting is the alcohol and what is you. He licks his lips after he swallows. “Don’t know yet… What’re you gonna do?” 

“I was thinking about buying a really expensive coat. Like a mink's fur coat.” Joel gives you a look like he’s not completely sure if you’re being serious or not. “I’m kidding. I’m getting fucking food. I’ve been skipping a meal a day for the last two weeks saving up for what we didn’t get.”

As he hands you the bottle again, the thought of that pangs Joel’s chest. If you stay with me, you’ll never have to do that again. I can provide for you. “I have food.”

You stare at him as you lift the bottle to your lips, and after you swallow, say “I’m not asking for your food.” Your face is straight and voice bristled.

“No, I know,” Joel stammers, “I was just offerin’—”

“I don’t want your food.” You shove the bottle at his chest and cross your arms once he takes it, leaning back a foot.

An offer like that is no longer simple friendliness, but Joel didn’t think about that before he spoke. Intentions mean less than jack shit and social rules are more like laws to live by these days; you probably think he’s trying to bargain for sex. “I’m sorry,” Joel closes his eyes and shakes his head, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, ok, well, thanks for the drink, I’ll see you around.”

“No, wait, I’m sorry,” he reaches out for your arm, and even though he lets go as soon as he closes his hand around it, it’s enough to scare you away entirely and you rush out of his apartment without looking back, slamming the door shut behind you. He jerks it right back open, holding himself in the doorway with another “Wait,” as he watches you barrel down the hallway and disappear down the stairs. “Fuck.” He whispers. Joel retreats back into his apartment and slams the door behind him, stopping just inside to rub his hand over his forehead. It’s a fair reaction on your part, he just happened to be the 1% of people to make a move like that not intending to harm you. 

This is the exact opposite of what he was going for. His hand slaps to his side as he lets it fall. 

As Joel’s eyes wander over the table, he catches something in his peripheral, and spots two ration cards. They’re not his, they must have fallen out of your pocket. 

Like a shot, Joel snatches them up and is out the door, bounding down the steps and throwing himself out through the front door. He skids to a stop just outside, turning left and right until he spots you still making haste away from his place. “Wait!” He calls out again as he weaves through the street toward you. When you stop and turn to him his hand shoots up, showing you the cards. 

You shoot daggers and as soon as he’s in front of you, bark, “I’m not a fucking prostitute. I’m not gonna fuck you for food.” 

“No, no, count your cards, these aren’t mine, they’re yours. I swear.”

Still glaring, you pull the stack out of your back pocket and flip through them. When you finish, you bite the inside of your cheek, shove them into your pants instead of your pocket, and hold your hand out for your missing two. You’re staring him straight in the eyes as he hands them over and you add them to the rest, and then your expression softens. Joel takes this opportunity to try to have you give him another chance.

“I swear, I didn’t mean any a that like that. I know how it sounded, I wasn’t thinkin’. I’m not lookin’ for anythin’ like that. I swear.”

You chew on your lip for a moment. “Okay. Fine.” You blink and pull at your waistband. 

Joel takes a deep breath, but his relief is short lived. Shit. Now what? I can’t ask her to ‘come back to my place’, and if I ask to walk her home she’ll probably think the same fucking thing. Joel is not used to trying to gain someone's trust. What would convince him? No answer comes. 

Gravel shifts under your foot as you turn more towards him, resting a hand on your hip and cocking your head. Suddenly, Joel feels pressure under your gaze and readjusts his posture, straightening, but struggles with his gaze. The interaction is one of assessing dominance—more of you checking his. Joel grinds his jaw with his eyes focused down on the hand on your hip. This goes against instinct, which would be to puff out his chest, cross his arms, raise his chain to glare down his nose. He is not afraid of you, you’re not trying to threaten him, and he understands what you’re doing and that he needs to convey a level of submitance; he owes it to you now that he’s made you suspect he’s trying to manipulate you into sex. His throat bobs as he swallows his pride, then shifts his eyes back up to yours. When you relax, he lets out a breath and follows. 

“Okay, look,” you begin, “I’m not helpless just because I’m a woman, I can carry my fucking own, you should know that by now, but… I know Robert’s got guys, and I am aware of the risk of being a woman, and I also respect the buddy system. So, walk with me?” It’s your turn to struggle with your gaze, flipping your eyes between his and the ground.

A confetti cannon goes off in Joel’s head. “Alright.” He nods.

“Alright.” You nod back, take a step backwards, then turn back to where you were heading originally. The two of you fall into an even stride, silently focusing on your death stares as you journey through the loud, filthy, reeking streets of the Boston QZ. Joel thinks he spots a couple suspicious characters as you walk and is grateful that he came after you and that you let him walk you home. 

The sky’s blue is beginning to darken and the crowds are dwindling. Curfew is fast approaching, but Joel doesn’t want to ask you how much further, because, for one, he doesn’t want there to be a whiff of doubt that he’s no less than happy to be doing this, and, if it does get to be too late, maybe you’ll let him spend the night. It’s unlikely that you’ll be having sex, but that’s fine; he guesses you’re right, he is the kind of guy who will take what he can get.

“Okay, you’re free to go.” You snap Joel out of his thoughts, pulling out a bit of disappointment that you’re already here. Your building is short and wide, with graffiti littering the bottom and most of the low windows boarded up or taped over with rustling plastic. A burly and sunburnt young man smokes a daring cigarette on the steps and you exchange amicable nods with him.

Joel pauses, looking around and hiking up his pants trivially. The lack of promise that he’ll ever be able to speak to you again stirs anxiety in him and he searches again for the right thing to say. “Alright, well, it was nice to meet you.” He struggles again with some kind of cordial inflection, nodding and clearing his throat.

“You, too. I’ll see you around.” You nod back, then add a reassuring “Okay?”

Joel nods again, staying to watch you go. Once you’re out of sight, he takes a deep breath. The man on the steps spits and eyes Joel, so he leaves, hustling back to make it before curfew. 

Back in his apartment, Joel returns the alcohol back under the floor and his bloody towel into its drawer. He strips his flannel, removes his boots, and lays back on his bed, the setting sun casting a sheet of orange over his body. Pulling his pillow under his head and folding his arms behind it, Joel sighs loudly and shuts his eyes. Today was fucking exhausting, more for his mind than body. It has been the strangest day he’s had in a long time. Laying with his eyes closed, Joel picks through his mind for explanations and answers. What’s happening inside of him? What is he looking for? What happened today? His brow pinches as he wracks and wracks. 

Friend. When the word surfaces it breaks with panic and Joel jolts into a sitting position. Girl–friend. He forgot that that’s even a word. He rubs his face with his hand until he feels like he knows where he is again. What the fuck going on with him? Does he think, what, that he’s gonna take you on a ‘date’? And go where exactly? One of those slimy speakeasies, stay for five minutes until a fight breaks out and/or FEDRA fucking crashes it? Oh, yeah, how about spending the night sitting in opposite cells? That would allow for a lot of alone time, except for the fully armed and immoral guard. He could take you out past the walls, maybe find an abandoned restaurant and hope neither of you get bit or killed while checking it out so that you can sit down on dust caked chairs to clink glasses full of dirt.

That shit isn’t possible. Joel lets himself fall back into the mattress. 

Maybe a quick fuck will do the trick after all. 

But, still with that thought comes a gust of dread as he imagines then seeing you out on the street in the days following and having to avoid eye contact. Well what if you could just keep having sex? And just, hang out, you know, maybe if you could… come to live with him and then that way—fuck. That’s like dating. 

‘Dating’ sounds so stupid, like you’re going to go sit at a diner sipping the same milkshake with two straws. 

Well what if you’re just as fucked up and broken as he is? Would that make it any better? Then he wouldn’t scare you if he gets night terrors because you get them, too, and you’d understand about the violence and bloodshed. Thinking more on it, though, Joel realizes that all that that would really mean is that you probably have the same amount of fucking issues with ‘friends’. 

“Shit.” 

Joel flips to his side, shoving his arm under the pillow again to press his face into it. He’s lost, and fucked. Maybe the answer will come to him in the morning. Probably not, but he’s fucking tired, so let’s just say it will. 

—

The morning brings no answers, only more confusion and anxiety. His head has become jumbled in the night and Joel’s not sure about any of it anymore. 

Too close. He doesn’t even know you. You could be one of Robert’s guys, for all he knows. No, that makes no sense. If you were going to rob him you would have already. What else could you want? Jesus, did you drug him? He knows the truth, that he has feelings for you, he just really does not want that to be the case.

But, at the same time, there is the brown haired puppy dog that still lives in him, dreaming up how to get you flowers and how much he likes your hair and your eyes and how you talk. You’re a beautiful person, both in the surface level, physical sense, but also as an individual being. Even though you’ve only known each other for a day, he has seen enough to understand that you are, at least to a level, a safe person. Tulips, he needs to find tulips for you. 

Either way, he just needs to find a way to slow this all the fuck down. 

He shouldn’t get involved with you. You shouldn't get involved with him. He shouldn't trust you. You don't know who he is. He could change for you. You’re gonna get him killed. He’s gonna get you killed. The life he wants with you isn’t possible. He’s the kinda guy who will take what he can get. God, he needs to fuck you at least. Goddamnit, he doesn't want you to think that's all you are to him. Can’t you at least just be friends? What does that even mean? He wishes he never met you. He immediately takes that back. Why is this happening to him? Both sides of him can dig that last one. 

Joel groans and rubs his face with his hands. He stands, stretching his arms up and squeezing his eyes shut against the bright yellow morning light. His arms drop down to scratch at his chest over his sleeveless undershirt. Socked feet sweep over the hardwood floor over to the kitchen where he slaps cold water from the tap onto his face. Noticing wisps of blood still on his hands, he scrubs at them with his nails under the water. He forgot to sign up for any work today because he spent all day yesterday dealing with Robert, and… hanging out with you. 

With another whiney groan, Joel swats the faucet’s handle off and plants his hands on either side of the sink, letting water drip from his nose as he stares into the drain. Hanging out? People do that. He’s seen people just kind of sit around somewhere and talk, not doing deals, but, like, on their porches, sitting on side by side folding chairs. Yeah, people hang out. He imagines himself asking you if you want to ‘hang out’; he’s chewing gum with sunglasses and a backwards hat on, you’re in pigtails and reject him and he kicks rocks on his way home. 

He has had friends before, but it was from traveling in a group, trying to survive, when you kind of have to spend all your time together. There’s little choice and little room to decide if you actually like this person, little time to even actually get to know them, and they die a lot. That’s what he’s used to, and that is not what he wants with you. 

“The fuck am I doin’.” Joel mutters to himself, watching trails of water shine as they trickle down towards the drain. 

Soft, fully brown haired Joel swings his legs on one of his shoulders: “Go out n’ see if she’s around.”

Baggy–eyed, forever frowning Joel digs his fingers into his other shoulder: “If you ever see her again, you better walk the other fuckin’ direction.”

Puppy dog Joel furrows his brow and leans over to look at the other: “She’s a nice girl.”

Morose Joel glares back: “No such fuckin’ thing. An’ if she is, we’ll fuckin’ ruin ‘er.”

“Jesus. You’re paranoid. Can’t you just let us be happy?”

“No such fuckin’ thing.”

Joel smacks his hand to his forehead and pushes away from the sink. He lifts the bottom of his white shirt to rub his face dry and goes to sit back down on his bed to pull on his shoes, grabbing his other flannel and finishing buttoning it as he walks down the hall to exit his apartment building. He’s not sure what he’s doing—not admitting that he’s going to end up heading in the direction of your apartment—but he needs to get out of his head, and the QZ offers plenty of distractions. Here’s one now, as soon as he steps outside—

“Hey friend,” 

Joel whips around to the voice at the corner of his building, a man his size but wiry, with saddle brown skin and an overly genial smile. 

“You look lost.”

Joel narrows his eyes.

“Well, if you’re feelin’ lost—”

“Give me a fuckin’ break.” Joel cuts in. “That shit is meaningless. Hope is dead, jackass.” 

The man’s face instantly falls, disheartened, and he leans his shoulder against the brick. Joel huffs and moves on, shaking his head. That look makes a small part of him remorseful, like a thorn in his side, so he decides to stop at a speakeasy. 

He has to squint against the rising sun as he walks, so he doesn’t catch you until you’re right on him, asking, “Where’re you headed?”

Joel freezes, placing his hand on his brow to shade his eyes to see you smiling. Like remedied, all that anxiety and apprehension rolls off of him like water off a duck's back. “For a drink.” He answers, returning a serene smile. 

“Don’t you have that at home?”

“Yeah, well I jus’… wanted to get outta there.” He shifts out of the suns glare. 

You hum and nod. “I get that. What about my place? I don’t have alcohol, but I do have a cigar.”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. “A cigar?”

You nod. “Well they didn’t have any mink coats, so I got the second best thing.” Your mouth twists up into a mischievous smile and you swivel your torso back and forth. When Joel’s lips start to curl, you turn, watching him over your shoulder as you walk until he joins you. 

When the two of you get to your apartment, the young burly man is still on the steps; he winks at Joel as he follows you past, and Joel stares back until the door shuts behind him. Inside, as he follows you up the narrow, winding staircase, he spends the entire five-flight journey to the top floor conflicted about where to let his gaze fall. 

“Alright, this is my floor.” You glance over your shoulder at him then grab the door frame to swing into the tight hallway. “End of the hall.”

Your apartment is much smaller than his, and wide. Cracked, off white paint cries uneven, chipped stripes that reach up to the crown molding. Your bedroom is to the immediate right, a narrow room opened by two glass double doors. At the opposite end is another glass door, tall, that opens up to a fire escape. To his left is your kitchen, which is just the wall lined with cupboards, a sink, and white refrigerator. In front of him, a couch is half visible, the rest hidden behind the corner, under a row of three windows. Like his, the curtains are thin torn pieces of fabric. Just before the corner next to the entrance to your bedroom is a gray folding table with three tan metal folding chairs. Walking in, Joel can see in your room a twin bed with rosy sheets and no headboard, its head shoved in the space between the tall glass door and the wall with a thin pillow and singular white sheet. He hopes you have a bunch of other blankets shoved somewhere he can’t see, because it’s only barely summer anymore. The long wall opposite is taken up mostly by bookcases, which hold some books but mostly by all sorts of other things, including clothes. A ragged chair sits next to it, back facing him. Shoved in between the shelves and the tall glass door is a tall lamp, a thin piece of pink fabric laying over a disfigured shade. The carpet is worn and somewhat cluttered; right next to that chair is a pair of lacy black underwear. Joel rips his eyes away from it back to you in front of him, disappearing around the corner for only a moment before reappearing with a fat, half smoked cigar. You twist it in your fingers with a wide smile, flipping open a Zippo lighter in your other hand. 

“How did you get that?” Joel asks, astonished. He hasn’t seen a cigar in years but has dreamt about smoking one more than once. 

“My friend on the steps outside. Don’t tell anyone, though. Come on,” you nod your head back around the corner and he follows you into a cramped, mellow blue and yellow tiled bathroom. You push out a small broken crank window high up on the wall, pull the door shut behind Joel, and light up the cigar. Leaned against the sink, Joel watches you, very aware of the close quarters. The end of the cigar lights up deep orange and crackles. Your brow is furrowed, Joel can see the hairs of your eyebrows and lashes, a tiny scar in the corner of your eye over the bone of your eye socket. When you pull away, dense smoke snakes out of your mouth. You look down at it as you attempt smoke rings, getting one good one but failing at the rest. When you laugh the rest of the gray puffs out of your mouth. 

“Damn it.” you giggle, and hand the cigar and lighter to Joel.

He has to relight it and watches the flame over the end. He sucks in stale, earthy smog; it tastes ancient, but still has some of that discernable cigar flavor. As it fills his mouth, Joel closes his eyes, leans his head back and moans before opening his mouth to let the smoke leave. His eyes are on you as they open, and yours are half lidded, focused on his mouth, a slight smile on your lips. They slowly crawl back up to his eyes, and you look away. Joel takes another puff and makes a sound to get your attention, attempting rings as well, not doing much better than you did. 

You hold your hands out, “Ok, let me try again.” You take your time and Joel watches your tongue working in awe. You make a good three rings. Smoke puffs out of your mouth again when you smile at him and pass the cigar back. 

Joel focuses his efforts on the rings but keeps his eyes on you watching his mouth. As you do, your smile grows, eyes half lidded again, and you lean your back against the window’s wall, turning your head to see him blow four perfect rings. 

“You’re good at that.” You chuckle, staying on his mouth even after he’s done. He takes another puff. 

“Practice, I guess. Even though it’s been awhile.”

You hum and finally tear your eyes away from his mouth. He offers the cigar but you shake your head, “That thing is nasty, I’m afraid I’ll throw up if I take one more puff. You can keep it.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm. All yours.”

“Thanks.”

“I got it with you in mind, anyway.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. You look like a cigar guy.”

“Well, what did I do to deserve this?” 

Your eyes go back to his mouth. “Nothing, I guess… I knew it’d get you over here.” You look down and smile.

Joel sucks in murky smoke, letting it fill his mouth, and wonders how you taste. He’s never wanted someone's saliva in his mouth so much. He reaches behind him to balance the cigar on your sink to let it extinguish on its own. “I won’t make you watch me smoke that whole thing. I’ll take it home with me.” Turning back, he looks you up and down, admiring you, and says, “Thank you.” Those are another set of words that Joel cringes at, but he means it, and he needs you to know that he is grateful for this. The last gift he got was a box of bullets from Tommy on his birthday—not to say that’s a bad gift, or that he’s ever expecting anything on his birthday, but, you gave him a gift, just because, and it’s a luxury. He can’t believe you’re real, he wants to reach out and touch you just to be sure. 

“Mhm.” You smile, lifting your fist to rest your lip on, laying your other arm over your torso to support your elbow. Joel drifts over the details—the edge of your lip poking out from where it presses on a finger, the muscle and bone structure of your wrist. He fully appreciates the color of your skin as he follows it until its end at what he can see of your collar, how your chest shapes around the position of your arms. He sees you briefly squeeze your arm around yourself and his eyes are on your hips when he hears your foot shift under you and your body moves a little closer to him. 

“Joel?” Your quiet voice brings him back, and you’re blushing.

“Hm?”

Your eyes flutter and you push yourself off from the wall, moving your hand to scratch the back of your head, then face him, though still not looking at him, “Nothing, um, I dunno,” you chuckle nervously. 

“What?” He coaxes, growing a light smile.

You finally look at him, folding your arms over your chest and cocking your head as you ask, “Do you have anything going on today?” 

“No.”

“Me neither.”

Could this be what he thinks? Are you asking him to ‘hang out’?

“Do you wanna… hang out?”

Good lord in heaven, you are. 

“Yeah.” He says, then blinks, shifts, and repeats more enthusiastically, “Yeah.”

“Cool.” You offer a small, twitching smile. “Well, we can get out of this tiny bathroom.”

“I don’t mind it.” The truth suddenly jumps out of Joel and as soon as it’s out, he looks at his feet. Please, please, please, don’t let this be him ruining it, again, because second chances are basically extinct. 

“Why not?” Your tone is light, not angry or affronted. He looks back up, pausing to consider you, how beautiful you are, how much he really does enjoy being this close to you. The more he realizes how few inches are separating you, the more he aches for your body on his. He swallows hard. Is he being sleazy? 

You shift closer and his heart rate picks up. “I mean, I don’t really mind it either.” A light blush blooms over your face and Joel’s lips inadvertently part. When you move closer still, Joel straightens up from the sink, letting his hands rest at his sides, hoping you want them on your hips. “I like being close to you.”

“I wanna be closer.” Joel tells you quietly, then swallows hard again. 

Out of the corner of his eye, while he focuses on your face, Joel sees your hand rising cautiously, then feels it rest on his shoulder. He permits his hands to your hips. 

From there, naturally and easily, you connect. Your lips touch softly when they meet, then promptly conquering more of each other’s, and finally he tastes you, a pure elixir, and hangs onto your lip with his teeth so that he can raise the dose. Joel breathes deeply through his nose as he savors and his hand brushes up your hip, catching under your shirt and pulling it up slowly with it; feeling your skin warm and bare under his touch shoots directly into his veins. You remove your mouth from his to instead purr into his neck and Joel moans, then adds quietly, “Jesus.” You chuckle before refocusing your lips, gently nipping at and skimming over his skin. His hand glides up to the back of your head and he softly moans again. Lazily, Joel allows you to start slowly unbuttoning his flannel, appreciating his contact with your body and your sensitive touch on his neck. The only way he knows he’s not dreaming is because of your pinching teeth. Once his flannel is undone you smooth your hands down the length of his torso, fingers slipping off of him just before his belt, then come back up, slowing on his shoulders for permission to slip the shirt. Joel takes his hands off of you for the three seconds it takes to pull his flannel off, feeling your hot breath on his neck as you pull away with his shifting. Your eyes meet again and Joel’s heart flutters at how large your pupils are. He watches them move down to cross over his shoulders, your hands following your eyes, and then you look back up at him and bite your lip. Like you’ve flicked a switch with this simple movement, Joel takes your mouth with his tongue and grabs your hips to pull against his. Briefly, he regains composure to check, “Is this ok?” and you confirm with a nod back into his lips, slinging your arms around his neck and rolling your hips. “That a girl,” it escapes him, scaring him for only a moment, but you whine an encouraging moan and press yourself into him. The force leans Joel back over the sink and he has to throw a hand back onto it to keep himself steady.

“Shit, ok, this room is too small now.” You chuckle into each other’s lips and then you pull away, keeping a grip on his hand as you turn the knob and take him around the corner into your room. 

Standing just before your bed, you turn back to him and take his face in your hands, sliding your palms over his beard, fingertips on rough skin. They slip into his hair as you bring his face to yours, working back in your welcome tongue. His hands slither around you and then he squeezes you into a hug, relieving his ache for your body, relishing in the pressure of his hold. As you breathe out your head falls back and Joel moves in, licking into a hickey, too absorbed to give a shit about leaving marks. When a hand travels down to your ass and squeezes, you make a sound and hitch your body up. 

“You like that?” Joel purrs, fully loose lipped and glued back on yours. When you ‘mhm’ into his mouth he squeezes again, hiking you up himself. 

“Joel,” his lips force you to mumble.

“What is it, babygirl?”

All you do is whine, but your answer is in the hand that slides between your bodies to cup the stiff bulge between his legs. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He basically growls, sliding the hand up from your ass to grip your side and the other up to your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek and forcing you to meet his eyes. There’s a desperate tweak in your brow that tells him all he needs to know but he waits for you to say it. 

“Yes,” you whimper, and then he walks you back onto your bed, the two of you falling onto it with little pause with mouths and hands. Messily, he licks and nibbles at your lips and paws at your chest. Your hands spread over his thick, bare shoulders and biceps, legs shamelessly widening more than they need to under his hips, then hook and pull when he doesn’t bring them down himself. 

“You’re fuckin’ horny, huh?” He asks with a slight smirk.

“I just want you. I just want you.” You mumble.

Joel’s brow twists up and he kisses you deeper. You want him, you want him, you want him. “I want you so much, baby. God, I need you. I’ve been wantn’ you so bad since the first time I saw you,” the words are doing nothing more than spilling out of him, but he’s gone now, “so beautiful, such a beautiful girl. You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, tugging his shirt up his back. 

Joel pushes himself up to stand on his knees and pull his undershirt up and off, then stays over you, panting. Slowly, mindfully, his hands smooth up your body, hooking his thumbs under your shirt, lifting it. You watch his eyes and lift your arms when his hands ask. He slips your shirt off carefully and lets it fall on the floor, and then you’re bare underneath him. The adoration is palpable in his touch as he smooths his calloused hands from the V of your waist over your belly, splitting to slide over your sides but meeting again on your chest. He pets your breasts, teasing your nipples with fleeting touch, and then suddenly dips his body down to lick and tenderly nip one of your nipples. Then his wet lips drag up your collar, your neck, and back to your lips, and his mouth and tongue are gentle but passionate. Joel cherishes every touch you share. Then, your hands go back down to the bulge under his jeans, one rubbing over the cup while the other tugs at his belt. He chuckles into your lips and then rises again to undo his belt. When you try to tug down your pants you both understand the trouble and Joel hoists his legs over you to stand beside the bed, letting you up with him so that you can both undress as quickly and easily as possible. For a moment all there is is the sound of belts clicking and fabric brushing against skin. For whatever reason, you both start to laugh breathily until reattaching mouths smother it out. You fall back on the bed, your legs back open, and Joel wastes little time getting his hands on his dick, unable to help himself from a few strokes before he positions himself at your entrance, swiping his tip up and down your wet slit. Laying his forearm on the bed allows him to stroke your cheek with his thumb. 

Nearly slurring, Joel asks, “You ready for me baby?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, “I want you, Joel, please,”

“You don’t need to beg, sweetheart, I gothcu,” he kisses you tenderly, but it breaks as he fills you and you both moan. Joel’s forehead rests briefly on your lips when he looks down to watch himself pushing into you, his fingers pinching his base to guide himself, he prizes this picture of him in between your legs, opened wide for him. As he fits his large, stiff member inside of you your fingers comb through and then grip his hair, making him moan. “Goddamnit baby, what a good girl, takin’ me like this. I know it’s a lot. I know.” He assures you as you squeal, toes curling as he plugs you up. Joel swings his head back up, biting his lip as he watches your face, impressed with himself when he sees your pupils almost disappear back into your head. He nips at your lips but your mouth stays open until he stills his cock inside of you. 

You groan, “Oh my god, Joel,”

“Yeah?” He mumbles as he begins to move. You clench around him when you moan and he swears, moving his head down to bite your neck gently as he continues to take himself in and out. He smiles when your hands claw at his back and release his teeth to speak, “Such a good girl for takin’ me like this. You’re a fuckin’ angel.”

“Ok, Joel, I’m good, I’m good, please fuck me,”

Joel growls and links his teeth on your lip again. “Told you darlin’, no need to beg, I’ll give you what you need. How do you want it? You want it hard?”

“I don’t fucking care just fuck me,”

Jesus, if heaven’s real this is what it’ll be. 

Joel trusts your word and starts to fuck you how he wants—deep and hard, pounding your pussy in final satisfaction of the need he’s been pinned with since the moment he saw you. The room is full with the sounds of your moans and skin on skin.

“God, look atchu, pretty girl, god, your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight for me.” The sensation of him bumping your cervix and your cunt enveloping him fully is keeping him going like he’s a quarter operated ride that someone slipped fifty cents into. “That feel good, baby? Huh? Does that feel good?” You slap your hand onto the wall above you to keep your head from hitting it with the force of Joel’s thrust and repeatedly breathe out yeses. Joel groans at how your nails dig into his shoulder. “Tell me, tell me how good it feels,”

“Yes, Joel, it feels so good, you fuck me so good,”

“That’s righ’, baby. Gonna treat you so good. So good. So good baby you feel so good.” Joel leans his head back as bottoms out. When you almost scream, Joel stops, frightened, “Shit, you ok?”

“I’m fine Joel,” you laugh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. It was—it was good, that felt really good.”

“Oh, alright, I’m sorry, I’m—”

“No, no, I’m fine, Joel it’s good,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, fuck—ok—” you push Joel up and his heartbeat quickens with anxiety. Unsure, he simply follows your movements, climbing off of you, letting you tug his arm and flopping back on the bed for you to mount him. 

Now sitting up on your knees on top of him, you study him. “You’re so fucking hot, pretty boy.”

A wide smile spreads over Joel’s face, pumping rosy cheeks, and he throws an arm over his eyes modestly. The reaction is spontaneous, Joel being unprepared for such praise. 

“You are!” You giggle, moving his arm and dropping on your elbows to kiss him. One of his hands goes to your hair and he squeezes your hip with the other with eager grip. You rise back up, a line of spit briefly linking you, and your hand trails down over his chest until it comes to his cock, bulging over his stomach. He twitches and breathes out as your hand slides over it and he beholds you above him. 

“Fuck,” you purr when you slip him in. Joel strains his arms down to grip your thighs, breathing out a loud moan. “Shit.”

“Goddamn,” he whispers, then says, “come on, baby, take all of it.” You sit down on him slowly, hands landing over his chest, and he brushes his hands up and down your arms. “Thas’ righ’ baby. So good for me.” Joel moves to your hips, pulling them down and in to start to move inside you, forcing himself to be gentle. Your head flips back as you let out a loud, pornographic moan, and Joel can no longer keep himself reigned in. Gripping your hips, he’s now moving them more than you are, one hand gripping your ass, guiding you to angle down, taking more of him. 

Riding him like a mustang, your fingers skim over his wrists, unable to grasp them. “Fuck,” You whimper, brow twisted up, eyes closed. 

Joel takes his hand off of your ass to grab your face, squishing your cheeks, “Eyes on me, sweetheart.” You moan and obey, he keeps your face in his hand to make sure you stay. “Good girl. Stay with me baby.” He grunts and briefly bits his lips as he begins moving his hips up into you, thrusting his cock even deeper inside of you until he’s bumping your cervix again. You squeak and close your eyes, leaning your head back until he jerks your face, reminding you softly, “Eyes on me.” Your hand slaps on his chest as you adjust your posture, though Joel’s grip stabilizes you enough, holding you in place. He releases your cheeks but keeps his hand on your face, letting his palm and fingers brush over the side of your head as you bounce, his thumb on the back of your neck, supporting your head up when you try to let it fall back. “You’re so beautiful. Bet you look so pretty when you cum.”

“My god, Joel,” you pant, “I knew you would fuck me so good, you’re gonna make me cum,”

Joel’s eyes light up and he inadvertently smirks, “Yeah?” Eagerly, he tells you, “I wanna make you cum, baby, I wanna feel you fuckin’ cum. You’re bein’ such a good girl lettin’ me fuck you so hard like this. God, I wanna make you cum,” His hips bump up into you and he tugs on yours in a tempo that buries him as far as he’ll go inside of you. Prizing his view, Joel notices a bulge, coming and going at a suspiciously similar rhythm as how he’s fucking you, and when he realizes that it’s him, heat spreads through his chest and he only fucks you harder. “Oooooh, baby,” he looks back up at you and your chest and face are flushed. “My angel, look at you. Go ahead and cum on my cock, babygirl, I know you’re ready to.”

Your pipe out desperate moans as you bounce on his cock and your hands shoot up, one twisting your hair behind your head the other on your face, smoothing down over your face and mouth down to massage your breast.

“Does that feel good baby?” He almost whines out the question, desperate for praise, for affirmation that he’s being good for you. 

“Yes, god, fuck me Joel, I need you, oh my god please,” you cry out.

“You gonna cum for me? Cum on my cock like a good girl?”

You close your mouth, whining through sealed lips, then pop them back open to moan almost unrealistically pornographically, but the way your pussy squeezes him proves it unmistakably genuine.  

“Ah, fuck,” Joel lets out loudly as your legs shake and tighten around him, just like your cunt does, and his thrusts are basically out of his control. His mouth falls open and his eyes squeeze shut, almost seeing white, a sweet taste filling his mouth as the euphoric pleasure you provide him trembles to a peak and he groans as he cums in a pussy–drunk frenzy. 

As he comes out of it embarrassment starts to run over him at his gusto, but the look on your face calms it—your brow is furrowed up, eyes closed with your mouth slack like his. Your back is arched with your hands resting on his thighs, panting. 

You let out a loud breath and flip your body back to look at him, smiling, “Shit.” A breathy laugh shakes out of him and you sit back, still with him inside of you. Then you rise up off of him, “Oh, fuck,” you stand, almost tripping, “I gotta go clean myself up. I’ll be right back.” 

Joel basks in the glory of your figure walking away, still fully nude, pattering through your apartment, then disappearing around the corner. He leans back, turning his head to view the sky from the dirty glass door. It’s a picturesque baby blue, dotted with a few puffy white clouds. Fuck the other shoe, if it drops it drops, he just wants to be here right now, with the sun warming his bare chest, nose full of your scent, his lips swollen and dick still wet with your cum. Joel takes a deep breath. Maybe it’s dramatic to say he’d be happy to die here, and it’s not entirely true, but it’s just that he feels content for the first time in fucking years. 

When your padding steps sound again, Joel shifts his upper body up, watching you approach, and then you slip into bed, nudging him so that you can lay side by side facing each other. The top sheet is cast lazily over your bodies and a comfortable silence falls over it. Joel tries to memorize the details of your eyes and admires the way his mouth has plumped your lips. 

Lying in bed with you here in this cramped apartment feels like a dugout, and he wants to go back in time, to any point over the last ten or so years, to tell himself that this is waiting there for him, just to let himself know that it’s gonna be ok. He can’t believe he’s still in Boston.

“Can we stay here for a while?” He asks you. 

You nod, “We still have all day, pretty boy.” Joel smiles and you move to kiss him, long and light. He hooks your lip in his mouth, asking you nearer, and, without breaking the kiss, you lift yourself up, only your chest off of the bed, supporting your body up with your elbow. To hover over him, you reach your hand over to plant next to his head. Joel’s hands slither up your face to the back of your head, assuring your connection. All he wants is your lips.  

“Baby,” He whispers, his voice high. 

“Hm?”

“Nothin’. I dunno.”

You smile, peck another gentle kiss, and then lay back beside him. You shift closer to each other and your legs tangle.

After a couple of still moments, you take a deep breath and address him, worry in your voice, “Joel…”

“What is it?” His brow pinches in concern.

“I’m just worried… maybe I should have waited.” You say quietly, brow slightly furrowed as you gaze into his eyes, raising a loose fist to your lips. 

He pushes his hand out to brush the back of his finger over your wrist, “Why’s that?”

You pause. “Cause… I don’t want… I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to have… you know, a one night stand. I mean, for this to be a one time thing and then I never see you again.”

Joel’s brow furrows as he assures you, “Me neither, no, no baby, I wanna see you again. I want you to stay. I wanna stay. I wanna know you.”

You uncover your mouth to smile and your eyes twinkle, “You want to know me?”

“Wull… yeah.”

“That’s such a nice thing to say.”

“I mean it.”

“Well, I wanna know you, too.”

Joel’s contentedness pauses. He didn’t think about that part and he’s not sure if he wants you to know him. Yes, desperately, god yes he does, but, no, his soul is covered in soot. You shouldn't, he doesn’t want you to see him, know him, because he’s bad. 

“What’s that face?” You ask.

“What face?” 

“That face you just made. You don’t want me to know you?”

How did you read him like that? He’s not sure which side he should take with this so he says nothing. 

You sigh and blink, then place your hand on his cheek, stroking it with your thumb once. It’s warm and solid against his skin and flowers bloom in his chest. 

“If I’m gonna let you know me, you gotta let me know you. That’s the deal. I think we’re pretty similar, Joel.” You take another deep breath, “I haven’t had someone in this bed with me in a long time. I haven’t touched someone like this in… forever. I don’t like to let people get this close. I’m letting you get close, though. Because I really, really want to. But part of me really, really, doesn’t. For some reason, I trust you. I hate saying that. But I just do. I really like you, Joel. Maybe you’re gonna break my heart. I decided that that’s ok. I just really want to know you.” Your hand slides down to his neck, over his shoulder, then down to the middle of his sternum. “So, that’s the deal. If I’m gonna let you in, you gotta let me in.”

Joel isn’t sure why there are tears wetting his eyes. He wasn’t ready to be spoken to like this, to be cared about. The longing to hear words like these has long been buried and he never expected any of that to be fulfilled. He blinks the tears back, swallows hard, and murmurs a tender “Ok.” 

Your hand slides back up to caress his cheek. The affection in it floods him and he melts into the bed, eyes falling closed. When he opens them again, it’s like this is all there is; he can’t see anything else except for you, and those pink sheets, and the light behind you coming through the window. 

He can’t help this feeling of safety with you. He smiles. You smile back. 

You can’t make Boston any better, but now, Joel is taking his first clean breath of air, and it smells like you. The world is ugly, but love makes it bearable. And now you’re here, and he’ll wait to tell you, but he figured it out, he’s sure he loves you. 

…Metaphors and sex, sex and metaphors. 

[whimsitar]

Sir Percy Headcanons!

Look Headcanons

Reddish brownish hair with a few light hairs since I like to think with the work he does, he's always stressed in some way.

Scars. He definitely has fought in battle before. He's a Knight he's done some dangerous work before.

He's always wearing armour even on his off days, probably wearing a leather chest plate underneath his shirt.

In his actual and proper armour, he doesn't take his helmet off unless asked to, so his hair is a bit messed up due to helmet hair.

But when the armour is fully of in an event like a banquet or ball his hair is always neat and slicked back.

His fashion sense is just armour, uniform, and simple noble wear.

If I were to put his style in game terms, it'd be cool and elegant with uniform.

Has a big build for sure being guard he's definitely buff in some way.

General Headcanons

I like to think he was a childhood friend of Philomia being older than her by like 2-3 years.

Comes from a noble family full of knights so he was trained his whole life to become a knight.

Saw Philomia as duty first before they got close as friends. Seeing how, despite her getting mistreated by her father, she's still kind to her half-sister Olivia .

Was appointed as her personal aide and bodyguard since he was the most skilled and strongest.

Low-key a workaholic he always wants to stand guard even if he's in a dire need of a break.

Tends to bury himself in work and loose time.

Has strong RBF he's looks like he's mad all the time but that's literally just his face.

He was insecure about it when he was younger. He wanted to be the kind of knight that people can easily go to without hesitation and didn't like how his face tends to scare off other people.

As he got older, he stopped seeing his face as something bad and saw it as useful for scaring away enemies.

Though he still is dejected with how children will either run away or be nervous with him first meeting.

Definitely like kids and is good with kids when they are not running away from him. The type to be really caring with younger staff, especially new ones.

A person who often follows his heart and emotions. He doesn't seem like the type but his emotions influence his actions very much.

He's professional, of course, but off work, he can't help but rant and swear at stuffy officials or any kind of noble who he disagrees with. Very entertaining for Philomia.

The type who values honesty out of everything. It doesn't matter how long it will take you, say your feelings and beliefs as long as you mean it and be upfront about it he will see you as good.

Seeing from the lore notes, it seemed like he lived around a time when there was a lot of corruption and being near the front and centre of it. It was natural that he eventually became distrustful.

This is why he doesn't like Strange much.

When Philomia died, he took it the hardest and spiralled from guilt of not protecting his queen and from grief of losing an important friend.

As a sword, he doesn't trust anyone, and that includes himself (idk man, im just trying to figure out why he's chained)

Divider Link

[seastarblue]

Character Intro: Felix BonaDea

“Yep, we’ve got this!”

Basics:

Pronouns: he/him

Species: Halfling (Fairy + Human)

Age: 27

Nickname(s): Fel, Flick, Dumbass (affectionate)

MBTI: Idk yet

Voice Claim: Hunter from The Owl House

Physical:

5’5” (≈162 cm)

Build: Lean muscle

Skin: light brown, slightly tanned

Eyes: Pale gray, almost white

Hair: Black, slightly long (just above shoulder length)

Special Features: Small black and pale gray butterfly wings, black butterfly markings under his eyes, crooked smile

Personality:

Speaking Style: Being a nobleman, Felix has been taught how to speak like one. He does not enjoy doing that, however, and will be as informal as possible whenever he feels like it.

Likes: healing people, helping people, magic, friendship, alcohol, a goooooood fight, bees, food, his friends, his stepfather and Amaryllis, his half siblings (Maria and Luca), doing good things

Dislikes: leaving others, being left out, frogs, fancy talk (see above), liars, criminals, nobility and the rules that they put down, prejudice against Fae and Cursed ones

Main Goal: “When I get those Nikasa bastards it’s over. And if I stay in this godsdamed estate for any longer I may just e x p l o d e—”

Backstory (under the cut):

Felix BonaDea is a nobleman from the house of BonaDea, known for their healing magic. His mother, Gianna BonaDea, is human, and his other mother, Amaryllis, is a fairy. Now, for most of Nialon, it's quite normal for humans and non-humans to mate, but this rule does not apply to nobility. He did get everything he could want, including gender surgery, as Gianna and her husband Antonio was not heartless. She also allowed Amaryllis a small secluded estate for her to live in. Despite this, Felix was shunned in life, and had no chance at being anything important to... anyone, really. Or so he thought.

One day, he was walking through town (glamoured with a trick Amaryllis taught him), and stopped by a tavern popular for guards and guards-in-training. He met someone there who would make him feel less lonely, and that person was Kaiden Evania, another alienated child shunned because of her curse. They got to chatting, and clicked immediately, pulling a prank on other guards-in-training who had been picking on Kaiden. Once Felix heard she was forced to be in the capital, Vespar, because of the draft, he resolved to learn how to fight so that she wouldn't feel lonely, as he always had.

The years went by, and despite Felix's nobility, he and Kaiden made an unstoppable team. They had succeeded in 'The Hunt', an annual challenge hosted by a House. Afterward, both attended the Aquamarine Ball, which was an event where graduating guards would learn of their placement, be in the city, or a House, or the outskirts of town. While at the Ball, Felix and Kaiden were approached by Lloyd Santhuff, the leader of the Azari Knightage, a warrior unit that only takes the best of the best. Lloyd was interested in the pair, and offered the both of them a place there. They accepted, and after a couple years of training, were full-fledged Azari. They chose to be put under the Fifth Order, led by another fairy called Saffron.

They took the Oath, which bound their souls together and let them think as if they were mere extensions of each other, but Felix thought it was bullshit and just for show. The pair (mostly Felix, to be fair) made friends with their unit, and all was well.

They were good. The best, even. But then on one mission investigating the Nikasa, Felix and Kaiden were caught and brutally tortured for weeks. When the rescue team finally found them, they were badly hurt.

His family immediately requested his return when they caught wind of what happened. Felix left the Azari after that. He now lives as a prisoner with his family on their estate.

[sawtastic-sideblog]

DnD night at the Kramer residence:

Jill: provides snacks and ambiant music, helps make the props and costumes, acts like she's not listening but if secretly taking notes as she does embroidery or something idk, secretly has a high elf druid character called Aria

John: DM, has these elaborate plots planned out for the campaign, tries to be annoyed when things go off the rails, can't because it's actually funny, "it's a team building, strategy game. Work together or perish in the bog of perpetual sadness," if he actually plays he's a tortle cleric called Gideon

Lawrence: secretly stoked that he gets to play again, played as a kid but mom put a stop because its witchcraft and the devil will consume his soul, played in secret, bro is an orc paladin called Sedgewick, he heals people irl and in game, once a doctor always a doctor

Mark: lizardfolk barbarian called Marco, he's very creative, he fights anything he comes into contact with, literally no stopping him when he gets angry, once punched a tree over and killed Amanda's first character, she still hasn't forgive him

Amanda: half elf bard called Lorna, she constantly makes fun of and pranks Marco, has a satchel full of flowers, once helped everyone escape a dungeon by singing lullabys to the guards

Adam: fairy warlock called Thomas, constantly casts fireball, in a great amount of debt to a powerful wizard for a house fire he certainly has no idea how it started don't ask him, on the run from said wizard

Peter: bugbear rogue called Thornax, once has a love spell cast on him by a fey and now everyone calls him Horny Thorny, high stealth level, once killed a high priestess while she was giving a speech to her cult

Logan: sea elf paladin called Ronin, excellent mimic, aided Strahm in his quest to end the high priestess by continuing to address her people while dressed in her robes, married a homeless Tabaxi begger man and runs a nice little farm and bed and breakfast on the banks of a river, swims daily, kinda a siren

William: has had many characters, he doesn't really understand how to play but he's happy to be included, all of his characters die, he has notoriously bad luck with rolls, longest character run was 3 sessions, normally dies early in sessions so he just play npcs and takes half ass notes

Billy: the God of the game, watches from his tower (China cabinet), Jill dresses him up, greatly worshipped throughout the land

[moonlight-tmd]

Okay, i know i’ll explore more of this but i want to hear your thoughts on this too.

Femme frame bumblebee? He’s still a mech but he’s definitely built with the aft and curves of a femme and even has heel struts instead of regular pedes. He knows he’s built and his frame compliments his doorwings.

He usually wears a bulky over armor but it gets damaged in battle and breaks off revealing him in the heat of a battle that just stops?

His teams reaction?

Blitzwings reaction?

Before or after they start dating. If after blitzwing didn’t know b/c bee has trauma.

oooh i get it, like @toxxicpill design. I always imagined him a little feminine, just more blocky instead of smooth curves.

hmm, i mean, sure he would be a bit curvy, the doorwings are a nice touch for him cough happy flutters cough cough. I am a little disappointed that they decided to gender the robots but eh, 2000's cartoons i guess.

He is a bit curvy on top of the blocky frame, the heeled pedes are not uncommon, i mean Prowl has these- he kinda looks like Elita overall, his subspace is moved down to cover his aft in this since he has doorwings (yes it does look like earth bumblebee's abdonmen). Yes, he does wear additional armor to apprear more bulky over his chassis and shoulders, he doesn't like how everyone kept staring at his chassis. I always imagine Bee and Prowl are almost the same height, only that Prowl is few inches taller and way slimmer than Bee (I mean, he is a motorbike. They are rather small, even when compared to tiny cars). So without the top armor, Bee is almost half the width he was.

I imagine the only one who'll know is Ratchet. I mean, he fixes Bee all the time and there is no way he wouldn't know that the upper part of Bee's armor is not his original frame. Ratchet is a medic, he's not gonna judge anyone- well, unless you say or do something stupid. Then he's gonna judge you all he wants.

So yeh, bots and cons fight over Allspark shard- idk, maybe some stray blaster shot hits him on the chassis and the thing breaks, it's not completely broken but heavily damaged. Now, this is a battlefield. I don't think anyone would stop to look at Bee's badongahonkas, especially when there's such an important item involved.

After that, sure the team is surprised that Bee's frame is actually different from what they see so often but nobody hates him for it. They're not homo/trans/any lgbt+-phobic. And they don't have genders in the first place, everyone chooses how they want to portray themselves.

When his additional armor is being fixed, there's not much of a change. Sure, others throw glances at him more often but nothing else- the only one to have a visible reaction would be Optimus. Bee already reminded him of Elita when he met him, and seeing Bee look even more like Elita is weird, if it isn't raising some questions... he almost slips and calls him Elita.

Sari thinks Bee looks pretty, and may or may not be trying to get him more armor pieces like that so he can be a full-blown knight.

The repair was quick so no Elite Guard reaction- but if they were to witness this, Sentinel would be the first afthole to stare at Bee's chassis as if to take that armor off with his processor power. Jettwins and Jazz would have respect and try to keep SP away from the young bot- as they always do, just this time the reason is different. They all have no idea how Sentinel can be so awful and still keep his job...

Now you want Blitzy's reaction, alright.

That stray blaster shot might have been his and he struck Bee on accident. He does catch a quick look at Bee's slim frame before his team calls on retreat. If they weren't dating then he would be a little bit pervy in his mind, he wouldn't bring it up with the scout tho, he's not sexist.

If they were dating, he would wonder why Bee didn't tell him. He asks about it the next meeting they have- Bee's armor has been fixed by then. Sure enough, Bee confesses that he was forged a femme but decided to be a He. He wears additional armor because he didn't have credits for changing his frame type and had enough of other bots calling him and grabbing him rudely. Wasp was one of those bots, he harrased Bee with no mercy until Longarm saved him.

Blitz feels both sorry and hella ANGY. How could anyone treat his precious hummel like that?! And they say Decepticons are evil- if anyone is racist, sexist and disrespectful about such basic things as appearance and behavior, it's the Autobots. The 'cons murder everyone equally, not just the "freaks".

Once Bee gains enough confidence then he'd show Blitzwing his real frame. And Blitzwing will have some pervy thoughts he'd keep to himself only. He loves Bee, and seeing him even smaller than how he was already is adorable. Blitz is the only one that Bee lets grab him like that. And Blitzwing can't help but admit his hummel's chassis is a great pillow.

[sayakxmi]

[Magi rewatch] Episode 13: Prince of the Rebellion [Part 1]

I can (did and will) complain about many things regarding the first season of the anime, but DAMN do they have cool titles.

Also, special episode, as it also has a new op.

Matataku Hoshi no Shita de - Under the Twinkling Stars. I've never checked the translation of the title, ngl.

Magi maps are a headache, but it does look cool.

OPs really out there trying to fool me into believing they're an actual trio instead of a duo + Morgiana, and boy will I get to this part either this or the next episode. Cuz there's one thing I gotta comment on, but idk when it happens in the anime.

You know Gordon Ramsey and that "You fucking donkey"? That's me with Hakuryuu. And kinda Sinbad, too. But mostly Hakuryuu. Every time I remember the Kou Empire Arc, and then the Final Arc, I'm like, somebody should take a bat and beat the shit out of you. Don't get me wrong, I love him, but boy does his writing frustrate me.

On a different note, RIP to Hakuryuu kinda. In this OP, I mean. I love Team Zagan & kinda miss it, but here we get Aladdin, Alibaba & Morgiana flying around, and then him observing that only. Not a part of the group, not really. Tho maybe the fact that he's looking up is, like, supposed to be a foreshadowing of him joining? Hm.

Ya bet I'm ready for Cassim flashbacks every arc.

Alibaba looks kinda angry, lol.

Ok, y'know what? These Al-Thamen transitions, then Alibaba's sword before the chorus, they look pretty cool, I'll give them that.

OH WAIT, it's not just his sword. A moment later the sword breaks (sorry didn't screenshot the breaking moment). It's foreshdowing of the blade breaking! That's neat.

I don't even know what to say about this, I'm just kinda laughing.

Hello, Generals, who don't get that much too do in Magi. At least you have stuff going for you in SnB.

Also, Sinbad in that one moment looked pretty cool, ngl. Sorry no photo, it's kinda fast, and how many times do I have to rewatch these moments to make a screenshot...

Ok, that's hilarious.

Welp, Morgiana out there dancing, and these two went to be a duo on their own. I will get to that moment, trust me. As much as I love it, I do have one complaint.

Also, look at the sacred not-full moon. Very rare sight.

I wonder if the moon looking like that is, like, symbolic, cuz Sinbad is half-fallen, and all. So if you go with my moon->fate/guidance, no moon->depravity/rebelling against fate, then this moon is, well, both. So, Sinbad.

The song is, overall, pretty ok. Very Magi-OP-like. Like, no deep feelings, it's just neat.

ALSO! You guys gotta see this MMV, fucking awesome. Alma Torran/Kou Empire Arc spoilers.

But, anyway, to the actual episode.

Bro, the fucking horn.

Enfin Apparu is playing! Very fitting, given the title.

On the one hand, there's nobody screaming to kill the guards, on the other, it's kinda cool how Alibaba just waves his hand and they stop throwing the stones.

Hell yeah.

"My people! Wait here! I'll change this country!"

"I wanted to fall in love." Absolutely, but damn, you deserve so much better than that guy.

Anyway, Kougyoku's pretty as always.

Damn, the way Kougyoku's imaginary 23rd turns into the actual 23rd, lmao.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The further we go, the more I wonder: why the fuck does this guy get to live. Fuck him with a chainsaw fr.

We ain't playin anymore.

Gotta admit.

Ew

I'm not sure how the flames were supposed to help, but ok.

No, srsly, how were the flames supposed to cushion him here. For one, it's fire, which is still dangerous, MV or not, and for other... just genuinely what was it meant to do. I'd understand if he went ablaze before getting hit, to at least harm his enemy at the same time, but here... Idk, man. Weird magic shit, I guess?

Interesting. Here after being hit Alibaba thinks "There's no way I can defeat him", while in the manga he goes "I don't have the time to play with him!". So, completely different attitudes. Anime!Alibaba doubts himself more, while Manga!Alibaba focuses on getting shit done, maaybe a bit hastily, but he does keep the cool head in spite of that.

This bitch ugly af

That's a lot of fire.

We don't appreciate how fucking jumpy Alibaba is.

I'll be honest, in the anime Alibaba comments how he needs to focus more, while in the manga it seemed almost effortless for him to more or less fight this guy AND try to figure out Weapon Equip. Small thing, but made me go Huh.

Oh, hey, Notre Empire started playing.

OH HEY, Anise actually has a VA.

I'll be honest, I know it has all that meaning etc, but it always looked kind of silly. Maybe bc Alibaba is so weirdly low quality here. Dunno.

Ouch

They cut the arteries? Would it even be that much blood?

Listen, I know it's just his imagination, but ngl, I asked myself that question and now I wonder. It always seemed like a bit of an overkill, but then again, I've never cut anybody's throat nor seen somebody do it (and I'd rather keep it that way).

"At your darkest moments, you've always seen yourself drowning in your own blood - so much more of it than you thought it was possible for a single body to carry.

Turns out when you actually die, you don't bleed at all. Your limbs are gone, your soul soon follows, and yet your corpse remains intact on the scorched battlefield, surrounded by fear and mad laughter."

Idk.

Ughh

AGH

"You're brave! I know it!"

Brooo, early Magi Aladdin and Alibaba relationship was so fucking pure.

Hell yeah

[thefandommessenger]

These fucking cargo crates

alright I’m doing another analysis because iron cameraman got me thinking about those damn crates. It always goes back to those damn cargo containers.

I am going to do this in the form of the 5 w’s and 1 h because it makes everything more organized for me. Maybe I’ll put miscellaneous questions on later. I’ll also go over everything I know about the containers and say some speculations.

SPOILERS FOR 72 PART 1 AND THOSE BEFORE BTW

WHO?

Who is involved with these crates? According to DFB, the containers contain the head scientist’s last project, so it’s pretty important to not only the plot but the character in general, because the scientist is dead. Another intresting thing that has been pointed out is that Gman himself (or a clone version of him) is guarding and supervising the movement of the cargo. Gives it even more meaning that one of the leaders of the faction is spending precious war time to be with these crates. I bet the scientist himself would have supervised the crates because of their importance(idk why i said that).

WHEN?

When is this episode taking place? When were these crates first teased to us? Well from the pov tablet we get at the beginning of 72, this is happening after scientists death. I think we see the Gman directing a moving crew or preparation drew all the way back in the full episode 69, and this moving crew was in charge of getting the cargo packed up and ready to leave. This move was going to happen whether or not scientist died. At first I thought that scientist was going to come with the crates, because he motioned for the guards to guard the door in season 22, but then I remembered that these guards were around when he was talking to secret agent, so it was confidential. The conversation he had with secret agent was also intresting, even though secret agent was the only one talking. If goes as follows, to the best of my knoweladge: ‘Because I am out there. You’re not needed. You cannot escape. My little pawn will kill you. Guess I can’t be trusted. Goodbye.’ It’s intresting to me how secret agent switches up on his language from full on threatening to kind of guilt tripping. Maybe they had an alliance at some point, and that alliance provided something that is in the crate? I don’t know why I think these two are connected. All I know is that scientist is dead, and Gman probably doesn’t know because he would have had a reaction of some kind. Scientist was probably going to also go with the cargo with the mech suit, before he died.

half of that paragraph isn’t digestible I’m so sorry I’m doing this late and i just want to get it out and see what yall think.

WHERE?

Where are they taking the crates? I think that they are taking them to a new base, or at least another location after they found out that the current base wasn’t safe anymore for the crates. They could also be taking the crates out into the open, because whatever is in the crates needs to be set loose or is finished. The location also depends on what state the project is in. I wish I could find the original screenshot of dfb saying stuff about the crate, the dialect he uses is probably very useful. But the project could be incomplete with all the security and secrecy around it, and the idea that scientist was going to come with his work before he was killed. But I like to think that the project is finished and waiting to be released.

WHY?

Why is the cargo being carried in the air? Do the toilets not have teleportation technology? Or does only scientist have it and can choose to give it to whoever he wants and didn’t give it to Gman for some reason? I think it’s more likely that they didn’t need to teleport to a new base or building but this is them trying to place the finished project away. Or maybe the crates are diversions, and they want to be seen and stopped even though dfb said that it’s a project I’m going insane can you tell

Why did the Astro detained let the crates past him? He is super speedy and has the power and full ability to knock the crates out of the air and into the ground. But he didn’t. Either detainer doesn’t care what’s in the crates, or he knows what they are and they don’t relate to him. He wants to bully Gman.

HOW?

I like how the crates are being carried by two skibidii back too back. The crates are extremely fortified, after being shot at by lasers twice and getting hit with something else. I couldn’t think of nothing for how, give me questions. How does Gman not know his husband is dead. Maybe he does, if he was supposed to come with them for the crates.

WHAT?

the questions that has everyone crying and banging their fists against the floor. WHAT’S IN THOSE CRATES? We know it’s scientists last project. And scientist typically makes other species of Skibidi toilets or weapons. So I’m going to go for the boring answer. It’s a weapon that could change the tide of the war, maybe it has something to do with the TVs. Maybe it’s a launcher or something. I don’t think they are decoys. There’s way too much preparation and security for them to be just empty Amazon boxes. It’s not relating to Astro, probably. But based on dfb we’re not going to get anything for the next episode or two, so the crate may get to its location. But we know that whatever’s in that crate is going to be epic :}

god im such a fucking looser

[colifower]

Still thinking of that thor is the jotun one au.

Odin is having A Manly Mental Breakdown™ about lokis death. Hes being suuuuuper paranoid about his special weapons (and weapons in general) and how theyve gotta hide them bc what if thor or frigga touch them and instadie too??

The w3 will stage treason bc their king is trying to get rid of their military **while on the brink of war**

Frigga somehow convinces Odin to give back the casket. Odin just. He feels soo guilty about lokis death that actually invites laufey to sign the peace treaty & get the casket back. War prevented 👍 except... Laufeys oldest has stayed bc he wants to be a protocol instructor and what better chance to be well off than work on the aesir-jotun relationships? Welp he kind of notices the MASSIVE commotion that is lokis funeral. And tells on his dad. Jotunheim declares war.

Meanwhile thor is having A Mental Breakdown too :D since he has no powers he looks like a jotun. He does get found by jane and co and they keep him at their place bc wtf thats an alien they are smart enough not to put them through the medical system and get him got by the government.

Somehow he is convinced he needs to seduce jane w his "new body" (not really, hes just too self concious about it -always has been- and has watched beauty and the beast back on asgard and thinks it is a valid reason "to break the spell" -there is no spell-). He learns of his hammer over the local radio/podcast/tv and thinks his hammer will "break the curse" (it does not)

The us gov is already onto him bc they live in a fucking desert, how come jane&co start bulk buying parkas off amazon all of a sudden??

Events of thor happen, but this time is Frigga the one that goes to meet him. She tells him that Odin has died and Loki is king. The jotuns have had him perma-banned from asgard. Thor cries. Frigga disappears. Thor starts getting experimented on the moment she leaves.

W3 are planning to go rescue thor when whoops a full jotun invasion is going on. Odin tries to send them to the dungeons, but since the guards do not have any weapons the w3 kiiiind of get them off quickly.

Frigga tries to stop them through a MASSIVE guilt trip. Bc wow they are kind of actually deserting the army during an actual invasion. Heimdal is here to help tho, so he freezes her over. Turns out heimdal is half jotun. In fact, he is odins half brother on the jotun side. Frigga... Kind of dies? So they gotta keep moving.

They get sent to earth through a cool battle sequence and heimdal fills them in the jotun!Thor situation... Which now they know they HAVE to get in order to calm laufey down (who doesnt know how """his son loki""" has died so he is also kind of grieving his "dead son" yet again)

Now they get into some spy shit. Heimdal is a great help btw he can see where thor is, and he is smart enough to have stolen gungir before leaving asgard. He saw odin having a mental breakdown about the spear and took it after he left.

Idk i am inspired i may write some more in the afternoon 👍

[enbyboiwonder]

I’ve pinned down a couple of my other worries: guilt and compassion. I know he’s capable of both of them, but has he ever expressed the former in canon? And the latter is mostly for Oda, though he is sometimes kind/gentle/etc. to other characters and not always reluctantly.

Augh, he wasn’t the best character to choose for this, was he—yet at the same time, there’s no one else but him whom I can picture in Ysuran’s place… Maybe him having lost his memories would strip him of some (though not all) of his snark and walls and could make it more likely, but… idk, any way I try to write him, he just seems too soft. I do like flapping ostensibly unflappable characters and making ostensibly invulnerable characters show their vulnerable side and whatnot, but this still doesn’t feel right, like it’s the wrong way to do it.

I wonder how much of that has to do with me previously imagining (though doing nothing with) scenarios where he loses his memory, and being certain that he’d be the type to be on guard and feel he can’t show any weakness and thus he’d read the people around him and try to act how they expect him to and go for as long as possible without letting on that he has no idea who they—or he himself—are. Yet here he is in this AU pretty much easily admitting that he remembers nothing of his past.

I still don’t wanna let this AU go though, aughhhh. He has some damn badass moments, and also the reveal of Ysuran’s secret hit me too deeply (particularly because, since I’d already been entertaining this AU before I’d even finished his questline, I was thinking about it more with Aoki and the added layer with him being half elf, half human) and then the game just… doesn’t really do anything with it? I mean, okay, so aside from the individual character quests, the game’s exactly the same regardless of who you play as, and his quest is finished directly after the reveal. But it’s still a bit disappointing to just drop that and never explore it aside from him telling Omduil “Ysuran Auondril is dead. I’m just Ysuran now” when you turn in the quest? Wouldn’t his past actions torment him? Wouldn’t he be filled with regret? I doubt it could be wrapped up so quickly and calmly. But since I’m already attached to this AU (and making Aoki more than a simple necromancer) I have zero desire to write it, even just the part surrounding and following the end of his individual quest, with Ysuran…

(Plus idk it’s just more compelling to me when it’s a half-human who despises humans, rather than a full-blooded elf who does. And, again, we never did learn even a hint about why Ysuran hated them so, just that he joined a genocidal group and got banished by his kin for it, and now after losing and regaining his memories he has no intention of returning to that life and in fact intends to make up for it. One’s a victim, the other—as far as anyone ever knows—was just racist.)

While I’ve barely made any progress on Dark Alliance II this past week or so (I still haven’t even made it as far as I did on my sister’s PS before it crashed and refused to reload that save file no matter what), I have made quite a bit on my AU—but all of it’s way farther down, for Aoki’s confrontation with Zarad! Not a single bit for ch 2, augh!

And though I have been using “Skelley” as a placeholder name for Aoki’s skeleton familiar, I have decided that… it’s not a good name. I’m still no closer to coming up with a better one, though…

I also sort of worry that it’s believable for Aoki to hate humans due to the mistreatment and neglect he faced at their hands as a youth. He sort of has to hate humans since that was Ysuran’s secret (though we have no idea why he hates them so, only that he’d joined a secret organization whose goal is to wipe out all humans—and human hybrids—from Faerûn, and Zarad cast him out and wiped his memories upon learning that), but… But then, he did hate Chika in canon for far less. He is kind of the type to hold a grudge. Maybe I’m worrying over nothing… (About this much, at least. There are still other parts where I’m not so sure I’m not making him OOC…)

[high-dragon-bait]

wait am I misremembering you made a post about dragon age half alf genetics? I can't find it. I thought it was interesting I forgot the wording but about the traits being dormant and stuff? Idk

Hello! Yes! I did make this post, it was an answer to another ask and I. Also cannot find it because tumblr’s search feature is god awful so I’m just going to. Repeat myself here. The original post was kind of messy anyway so here we go

Dragon Age Half-Elf Genetics Headcanon (aka: I rewrite half elf genetics in dragon age to be canon compliant in a way I don’t hate)

In Dragon Age, half elves work differently than they do in most other fantasy works that use elves and humans in that they do not exist. There are no half elves in the Dragon Age world, any elf/human hybrid comes out looking entirely human and that’s it

I, and from what I can tell the majority of the Dragon Age fandom, are not a fan of this. It’s boring, uncreative, and very obviously just there to explain how Alistair can have an elven mother despite not looking elven at all. In my opinion it’s fine on an individual basis, maybe with Alistair he does just look more human, but EVERY half-elf just looks human? Don’t like that

BUT

Supposedly, this is because elves are very magical and special and humans are not. So, because of this, when elven blood meets human blood the human blood cancels it out entirely, kind of like dousing a fire. To which I say…I still don’t like it but it’s better than “human genetics are just SO DOMINANT they EAT the elven genetics forever” throwing in a magical element at least gives us more to work with, but I still don’t like the idea that human/elf hybrids are literally always human

So. Here’s my solution

Half elves, in the traditional sense, still do not exist. The child will always look entirely human, or, more rarely, entirely elven.

See, when an elf and a human mate, and the child is born looking human, that elven blood is not gone, just dormant. Elven blood can lie dormant in a bloodline for generations before being “awoken.” This “awakening” is done in two ways: when it makes contact with more elven blood, or, the parent is exposed to strong magic

Most commonly, the blood is awoken by making contact with elven blood, usually when an elf-blooded human has a child with a full elf. This is what happens in the case of my Hawke as I like to believe the Hawkes have elven blood lying dormant somewhere in their linage. When my Hawke has a child with Fenris, that child is then born an elf to the surprise of everyone involved. It's not an unpleasant surprise just a "Huh, well that's weird"

But two elf-blooded human parents can still have an elven child. This happens to Miris, my secondary inquisitor, she was born an elf to two noble humans and abandoned near the Lavellan clan for it, claiming later the child died during birth. (unbeknownst to both her and the clan, they all assume her birth parents were city elves that could not care for her)

Unfortunately, that reaction is not an uncommon one, and that combined with the rarity of its occurrence means it’s practically unknown that this is possible

Elven blood being awoken from magical exposure is even more rare, but, surprisingly, it is better known. In fact it’s a very closely guarded secret by the Chantry.

It has been known to happen in circles. In the already undesirable case of a mage falling pregnant, there is a chance the child could be born an elf. It still is not a common occurrence in those births, but it has happened enough for the Chantry to grow paranoid at the possibility whenever its reported a mage is pregnant. The stronger the magical talent of the mage, the higher the chance. It's part of the reason accidental babies are taken from their mage mothers so quickly, the Chantry doesn't want them to realize their child is an elf.

What happens to those babies? It's... unknown. Most likely they are put in an alienage orphanage, or abandoned to the Dalish, though the truth may be darker.

There have also been cases of Templars having elven babies, which are also covered up by the Chantry. What happens to those children is up to their families discretion, the Chantry claims to have no involvement there at all.

Why does the Chantry do this? Because they don't know why it happens, or what it means for the elven race they've spent so long oppressing, and that scares them. They can't predict what would happen if this knowledge was made public, but they are too afraid of the possibility itself to risk the secret leaving their walls.

So that's the headcanon! I like it. I still like regular D&D style half-elves as well, this isn't meant to really be THE solution, just one possible interpretation. I might better tag this post so it doesn't get eaten by the search feature again...

[bakuvantea]

HEY BESTIE I HOPE YOUR HAVING AN AMAZING DAY

CAN I GET SOME GENERAL HEADCANONS WITH SUNG JIN-WOO WITH A FEMALE S/O

FEEL FREE TO IGNORE BUT REMEMBER TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

>:)

general relationship headcanons of sung jin-woo with his beloved s/o

- warnings: none! just a tad bit of nsfw implications

- audience: I made this gender neutral, i do hope that’s okay!!

- a/n: hello >:) anonnn (may i call u that? lmao-) here’s your request love!! thank you for your kind words <33 stay heathy, stay hydrated, and always rest up okay? hope you have an amazing day ahead too!!

also idk who jacob is-

-•-

: pre-awakened jin-woo (before entering the carthenon temple)

> he was always cautious, he didn't want [you] to hear the whispers going around about how you could've chosen someone better, about how you could've loved someone that was not him. thus, he was very shy and timid, always on edge when he feels the piercing stares from his batchmates -most especially when you try to initiate physical contact with him in your school or in public, you'd see him uncomfortable and so you'd immediately stop (because you respect him, ily). behind closed doors though he would always go above and beyond in pleasing you and making you feel loved, although he always doubts himself so you always make sure to give him praises and assure him that he is the one you love (not that jerk jacob from the class next door).

> he always wears spare hair ties or hair pins around his wrists in case you forget or lose yours. in fact when its weekends -and when he's not out infiltrating dungeons and positively offering his life on a silver platter- he always tries to study new hairdos and hairstyles so he can have more variations and choices when he ties or pins your hair for you. he'd always kiss the top of your head after and you'd feel his smile as he nuzzles your hair, smelling your shampoo. since his hair is also long, you'd also return the favor and tie his hair for him. his favorite would have to be the classic apple look with a pointy lock of hair erect in the middle -he really looks like a shih tzu, adorable-

> he.blushes.so.easily !!! he is very weak to praises and your lil kisses that pepper his face. you can see him glow and you even see his smile evidently becoming wider despite him shying away from you, looking downwards to avoid your loving gaze.

> he may be sht but he is also very playful towards you, teasing you and throwing pillows at you when you’re in his room, what a baby.

> often during dates he'd always need to leave early because he really needs to earn money and g to the dungeons. although you try to offer him some of your savings or your help during the dungeon raids, he'd always reject your offer, thinking of how it may burden you or the dungeon raids may possibly hurt you. you don't listen to him though, you give some of your savings to his sister when you cross paths in your school, and you'd always register after him in raids or call up someone you know to have you join in.

"(name) why are you here?!"

"angel face, i can handle myself just fine. it's my choice to help you and whether you like it or not, i've also been called for this raid. come love, we're going in."

> you'd always take his blue hoodie and wear it. he gets so shy when you smell it.

he gets frantic when you take his hoodie and start sniffing it, exclaiming; "stop! i smell weird."

you raise an eyebrow at him, "woo, you smell fine. i like it."

he tries to stutter a remark but was silenced by your smile.

> you always try to visit his mother with him and his sister, jinah. you always talk to their mother out loud and you'd see jinah smile gently at you and jin-woo trying to stop sniffles from escaping his lips by biting them and covering his face with his hoodie.

jinah: u simp

jin-woo: shut it

> he loved cuddles! but he really likes kissing your cheeks. he loves how soft they are and he loves feeling your cheeks move when you smile or laugh at his cute antics.

> he loves you so so dear

: post-awakened jin-woo (after the events of the carthenon temple)

> oh, dear it's the monarch-

> you weren't with him when he raided the "d-rank" dungeon that then turned out to be,, well pretty much a bloodbath, so you were very worried when you heard word of the news. you and jinah basically ran to the hospital and when you caught sight of him you almost fell down from relief and pure shock in seeing the state he's in. well, not long after though suddenly he's all buff and you were really trying to make sense of what's happening.

you: hello there good sir, what in the name of fck are you doing in my boyfriend’s room all sweaty and half-naked😀

jin-woo: (name) it’s me

you: haha yes, sir ‘it’s me’ that’s a pretty weird name but i don't judge, anyways my baby boy is not here uhm haha please get out of my boyfriend’s room

jin-woo: (name) it’s really me!

you: no sir, my woo radiates baby energy, you on the other hand radiates big dilf energy, haha i do not like what i am sensing so please for the life of me leave-

(jinah had to convince you that it is indeed jin-woo, you had her stop you from trying to hold his tiddies)

> you were very happy in seeing how confident he’s become, and you were even more proud with how he still says so humble despite his new accomplishments and title.

> it was obvious that he has become distant with others and have set a boundary between him and other hunters, you accept that part of him though since you know just how much he has gone through. he may act aloof towards others but he’s still very playful and comfortable with you.

> you have also noticed another thing though, he has become a bit possessive or much protective over you and jinah. he’d always have you bring a shadow with you to guard you when he can’t be with you. also, when someone stares at you for far too long, he’d step in and go, “hey there pal” and oh gosh was that enough to get the guy running (pretty damn hot)

> you still visit his mom with him, he doesn’t cry now though.

> when he trains, you’d insist on lying down below him when he does push-ups. you’d kiss him every time he swoops down and you’d hear him laugh which then makes you giggle as you hold his cheeks between your hands

> jinah is sick of the two you, always screaming about how on earth did her brother get an s/o before her, the audacity!

> his shadows adore you, of they’d always try to impress you or get head pats when you tell jin-woo to summon them for you. you live them to bits and always thanks them for a job well done in helping jin-woo with his raids. on the first time you accompanied him for a raid -you had to bribe him with more cuddles- and you were shocked with how his sweet adorable shadows turned a full 180, becoming ruthless towards the enemies. quite a show you’d say. after though, they’re back to flocking over you, even dismissing jin-woo lmao

jin-woo, watching you give each shadows head pats: i hate it here

you: get in line then

> it may be due to his newly acquired talents and his current mental and physical prowess but he has become more perceptive towards you. he can always read you and know just what your mood is and he always tries to make you feel better by giving his whole attention to you.

> of but of course, since dear jin-woo has become quite the looker, you also notice how girls flock over to him. and especially miss hae-in (she’s very sweet yes, but hey that’s your man so like—). the moment you discovered that she left her guild to join jin-woo’s, and then confessed (well basically she did) to your man, well you were upset but really who could blame her? instead of taking your frustrations out on her and your boyfriend, you decided to just talk it out with jin-woo and ask him about how it went. the two of you cleared it out and you got kisses and maybe even more after that ;))

> you and jin-ho are menaces to society when you are together, he hates how endearing and annoying you two can be. i mean, does he really hate it? nope, he absolutely loves seeing you two interact, although his head always throbs when you two start screaming to britney, gaga, and doja.

> a tease, he has become the master of being a tease, you hate it and love it at the same time. he’d trail kisses down your neck to your thighs and leave some marks then he’d suddenly walk away while asking you what take-out you want. rude, that’s what he is. ofc he always finished what he starts tho oop-

> he always randomly bites you now, you don’t know why but it’s really cute when he starts nibbling so you let him be.

> so extra when he tells you that he loves you. he professes it in such weird but adorable ways. one time he had printed out ‘i love you so much’ on a big-ass tarpaulin and had his shadows hold it for him while he’s kneeling down smoldering at you. you hate him so much (you don’t-). or that one time he bought a bouquet basket and had a ring tied to one of the flowers, you had to take the bouquet apart since the damn ring fell to the very bottom.

> sometimes when he gets back to the agency after his dungeon raids you and jin-ho would see him all grumpy and you immediately know that either he wasn’t able to make the enemy his soldier or his coat got ruined.

jin-woo: *sad noises*

jin-ho: that’s okay, you can kill and slaughter the others and take their souls next time

you: jin-ho couldn’t you have worded that better-

over-all, he’s the bestest boyfriend, such a sweet and handsome pretty boy much strong and reliable we love him<333

-•-

- a/n: i can add more to this if you’d like!! just hit me up again lmao it’s too long now so-

[halcyon-wings]

Idk if this is open but knights with a mizuki akiyama like reader? (+ transfem-)

knights with a mizuki akiyama-like reader !!

first gendered req hello!!! i think this may be the first time i’ve had a crossover between two of the things i write, so that’s a pleasant surprise :D also knights my beloved this is also the most characters i’ve gotten in one req jendmndmfm

features a transfem!reader (she/her pronouns), the oh-so-fabulous unit knights, and reader being energetic, carefree and loving cute things :} (transphobes dni)

<3 tsukasa finds your presence enjoyable, if a bit… well, there isn’t really a certain way to put it. you’re very fun to be around, and you remind him of arashi quite a bit, but at the same time you tend to keep his guard down easily. it might be due to the fact that you basically adopted him and lured him in via sweets. he can’t escape you now. (he doesn’t mind all that much, considering how often you two go to find the best sweet every week. maybe stop calling him cute, though? it’s… quite embarrassing.)

<3 arashi simply adores you!! she’s basically found herself a twin sister. the two of you trade fashion tips so often you could start your own business at this point. it’s rare for you two to fight, but if it ever happens, it’s usually resolved after at most an hour or two. (simply must mention that you two go ALL OUT for pride month. arashi goes “screw the image of knights” and wears dresses to all her lives as a princess knight. specifically the dresses you made from altering knights’ outfits. girlboss duo.)

<3 leo should probably stay away from you if he wants to keep his job. not in a bad way, of course! the problem is that he thinks you’re so fun that the two of you end up skipping rehearsals, much to the rest of the units chagrin. he finds your animation skills amazing and has attempted to recruit you as an mv animator for knights way too many times. you two make quite the powerhouse duo with your skills, but you’re also dubbed the “absentee creators” by half of ensquare. please stop skipping practice, you two.

<3 izumi is this close to tearing his hair out because of you. he finds you admirable, he really does, but you’ve also basically won over three of the members and now they’d rather hang out with you than practice. he’s close to banning you from ensquare at this point… is what he would say if you weren’t the one to also bring out the best in them all. it’s like everyone gives 100% and even more when you’re around. he’s decided you can stay for now. (in all seriousness, you got him shrimp once as an apology present and now he likes you.)

<3 ritsu wasn’t easy to befriend at first… mainly because he was sleeping whenever you saw him. as it turns out, though, he’s pretty active on social media in the middle of the night. you’d find that concerning if you weren’t also a night owl, so you two text each other a lot at 3 in the morning and bond over your random conversations. if he ever falls asleep, you always have a chilled soda on hand so he can stay awake. (nowadays, knights has a cooler full of soda in the practice room for whoever needs it.)