#it's outside of what I usually post halp

[lycoris707]

a new creature has appeared!!!!

still minecraft tho :P

version without ink dripping under the cut vvvvvvv

but first, my thoughts on Rat's video:

*clears throat* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

anyway, about the actual piece

tbh I don't know much of her lore due to the fact that I've mostly watched csmp through Rat's videos, so I didn't know what creature to make her (most I've got is like, the wet cat allegations and moth association due to the moth lantern thingy from the end of aforementioned video)

so I decided to go off of what inklings remind me of, which is the warden. and the warden for me is associated with axolotls

so here you go! I've actually been working on another piece ever since I saw Rat's video (which I might as well call the real minecraft movie at this point lol), which was like a day after it got released. but it's been giving me so much trouble I think I might restart it again

[shuchu]

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ off collab with the boys ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊

characters: vox akuma ; mysta rias ; luca kaneshiro ; ike eveland ; shu yamino ; shoto

take note: this headcanon is written with a gn!reader who is also a vtuber from nijisanji en and the boys have a crush on the reader. also, in this, the reader is a complete lightweight lmao sorry (≧▽≦)

author notes: this is a very long post, it’s kinda like separate one shots for the boys but in headcanon form? idek lmao halp (・_・;)  the boys won’t confess now, i’ll write a separate headcanon on how the boys would confess (≧◡≦) i tried my best with this but if any of the boys are ooc i’m so sorry! as usual, feel free to send in feedback and/or requests (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) decorative dividers credit to: @/mykaesu on twt *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

enjoy lovelies! ♡

a little backstory:

the luxiem boys and shoto were under the impression that it was just them meeting up, with the addition of ninaur of course. however, nina had messaged you on discord after they had planned to meet up and asked if you would be down to surprise the boys since she knew how close you were with them. you agreed immediately and started making plans to travel to Paris (wink wonk). 

the day finally arrives and you’re standing outside the door of the airbnb that they were at. 'badum badum badum' you can hear your racing heartbeat in your ears, you’re nervously pacing to and fro with 3 boxes of pizzas in your hands waiting for nina to open the door to let you in. you could hear their voices from outside the door, they were currently streaming. this was your first time meeting any of your co-workers in person and you were lowkey freaking out a little. suddenly you hear nina go, “oh hold on, i think our pizzas are here!” you sucked in a breath and tried to calm yourself down. she opens the door and goes, “oh, wait a minute…who’s this?” nina stands to the side to let you in and you smile, saying, “did you guys order some pizza?”. you see the boys’ eyes widen in shock and next thing you know, you’re engulfed in a big group hug. 

vox

his eyes widens and he’d go, “no fucking way…”

after the group hug is over, he hugs you again tight and says, “it’s so good to meet you in person.”

when sitting on the couch together with the boys, vox would sit next to you and rest his arm behind you, on the back of the couch

vox would want to spend as much as time as he can one-on-one with you, so he plans to do lots of collabs with you. him being there for moral support while you play FNAF being one of the many collabs

when you get jumpscared, you whine at him and he coos at you saying, “aaawww…does y/n need my help? did they get jumpscared again by bonnie? aawwww…”

you’d swat at him telling him to shut up and insist that you’re fine. the smug bastard just chuckles and says, “alright then, if you say so love.”

he would be flirting and bantering with you so much during the collabs, talking about how cute you are when you blush and get flustered

your fans would go crazy and say, “(you and vox’s ship name) fans are well fed during the off collab."

fan art of vox and you will flood both your twitter feeds, vox liking as many of them as possible, even retweeting some

vox would be very helpful, constantly asking if you need help with anything especially with setting up stream or whether you need to use any of his equipment

i have a feeling that you and vox would have many late night conversations where you guys would talk about anything and everything

if you wanted to go shopping he’d be more than happy to accompany you

he’d be so patient, going to all the different shops with you and complimenting you when you go to try on clothes

vox would definitely offer to carry all your bags even though you insist that you don’t need help

when you all go to a bar, vox would definitely be the one to take care of you if you get drunk

under the influence of alcohol, vox might let it slip that he likes you but you were too drunk to register what he said

to help get you home safely, he'd princess carry you back to the airbnb

if you have a hangover the next day he’d tease you first and say with a smirk on his face, “i didn’t know you were a lightweight.”

you’d roll your eyes and tell him to shut the fuck up. at that he would chuckle and say, “ah…but you love it when i tease you.”

he would then hand you aspirin and water, then leave to go cook some soup to help you feel better

when you thank him for helping you get over your hangover, he’d just say, “of course, i’m glad i could help y/n.”

when you're leaving, vox gives you a long tight hug and speaks softly so that only you could hear him, “i loved spending time with you, let’s do this again soon. i want to spend more time with you.”

you’d rub his back and say, “it’s okay voxy, we can still hang out online. i enjoyed spending time with you too you silly demon man.”

“don’t miss me too much y/n.” cheeky bastard

mysta

mysta’s eyes widen and his jaw drops, he can’t believe that you’re right there, in person, in front of him. he feels like he’s dreaming

after the group hug is over, he would say, “you’re shorter than i imagined.”, chuckling right after

you’d punch his arm and glare at him saying, “is that how you say hi to me huh? mysta rias from nijisanji en’s luxiem.”

he’d then hug you and say, “i’m kidding, i’m kidding, it’s good to have you here y/n.”

like vox, i feel like mysta would want to spend a lot of one-on-one time with you, since well, he has a crush on you

he would try to be subtle about his intentions but we all know how that will go lmao

he would arrange for as many collabs as he can with you and gets a bit jealous when the other boys arrange multiple collabs with you too

during your collabs he’d try to make you flustered and he loves the fact that he’s able to see your reactions to his flirting in person

although, when you flirt back, mysta becomes a spluttering, stuttering mess and the fact that you’re able to see his reaction in person makes it 10 times better

you then tease him about it saying, “aaawww is little mysta all flustered?”

he’d respond and say, “w-what? noooo…i’m not, i have no idea what you’re talking about.” “you’re literally as red as a tomato right now mysta.” “that is such cap y/n, don’t believe them chat.” flustered mysta >>> 

mysta would definitely make you laugh a lot during your collabs, at the end of every collab both your cheeks and stomach would be hurting

multiple clips of the both of you flirting and bantering will flood twitter, mysta would secretly bookmark all of them so that when he gets home, he can look back on them and relive those moments when he misses you. i cri, he's so precious

mysta would also be very helpful, lending you equipment when you want to stream and helping you with technical difficulties whenever they pop up

like vox, you and mysta would also have many late night talks, he’d fall even more in love with you after those talks because he feels like you understand him and that you would never judge him

mysta would constantly ask if you’d want to go out to get some food with him, secretly hoping that the others won’t tag along

he’d also set up movie nights where if you guys watch a scary film, he’d instinctively hug you and hide his face behind your shoulder

but he’ll end up holding your hand throughout the entire movie which he is secretly really happy about

when the group of you go to a bar for drinks, both of you get absolutely hammered because you both are lightweights

you guys end up giggling a whole lot on the way home, stumbling and almost falling flat on your faces multiple times, resulting in vox needing to hold on to the both of you all the way home

the next day, both of you are down with a hangover, mysta stumbles into your room and collapses on your bed saying, “urrghhh y/n i feel like shit.” you groan and respond, “uurrgghh me too.”

“can i stay in your bed with you for today? i don’t wanna be alone.” “sure mysta.”

you both end up sleeping the day away with shoto and vox bringing the both of you aspirin, water as well as your comfort foods to help with the hangover

when you're leaving, mysta comes up to you and gives you a hug, saying, "thank you for making this trip so enjoyable and fun, i'll miss you. let's meet up again soon okay?"

you hug him a little tighter and thank him for such an enjoyable trip as well, agreeing to another off collab soon

luca

luca would yell your name and be the first one to run towards you with his arms wide open. ugh i love luca sm he's so cute uweee

he would squeeze you to his booba so tight, chuckle and say, “it’s y/n! in person! POGGGGGG!”

throughout the whole trip luca would constantly be making tik tok references and doing the “AUUGGHHHHH” sound, making you laugh so much

when you guys are just hanging out in the living room, he’d say, “hey y/n, check out this tik tok.” the both of you would spend hours watching tik tok videos with each other and laughing your asses off

luca would organise as many collabs with you as possible, one of the many collabs might be It Takes Two, since the both of you have never played it before and luca thought that it’ll be a good idea to play it with you during the off collab

luca plays as cody and you play as may (or vice versa), when you guys get to the part where cody gets the nails and may gets the hammer, luca would keep shooting the nails at you/hammering you down with the hammer and laughing all while doing it. once you get free of being nailed/hammered down, you’d run after him with the hammer/nails, yelling, “LUCCCAAAA!!!”” to try and hammer/nail him down as revenge. the both of you would progress through the game super slowly because of luca and his trolling

luca finds it super cute when you run at him to try and get revenge from all the trolling that he’s doing 

so prepare yourself for luca griefing you a lot for the whole duration of this game

from all the tik toks that the both of you have watched together, a repertoire of inside jokes were created and when the group does collabs together, the both of you would be giggling at jokes that only the both of you get, leaving the rest confused

when the group of you would go out for food, luca would always be down to try something he’s never eaten before. so when he tries something he likes, he’d look at you and go, “y/n, this is really good! i like it!” and you’d clap and say, “pogggg! i’m so proud of you luca!”

when the group of you goes shopping, luca would always find a way to make you laugh. luca would pick up a pair of sunglasses that look really bizarre and say, “hey y/n, you think i should get these glasses?”, you’d giggle and tell him that he looks ridiculous in those glasses

when you try on outfits and ask luca for his opinion on them, he’d always go, “y/n poggggg! yes, get them!” and when you go back into the changing room, he’d blush a little because he thinks you look amazing in everything

when the group goes out to a bar for a drink, like with mysta, both of you get absolutely hammered

luca and you would start doing random dances and giggling when the other looks stupid doing it, not caring if people were looking

vox and nina being the ones to make sure the both of you get back safely

somehow luca doesn't get a hangover, but you do, so luca brings you aspirin and a glass of water. he then says, "it's okay y/n, just pog!" you groan at that and say, "luca please."

luca would be there to help you get over your hangover, bringing more water whenever you wanted some, going out to get your favourite food and keeping you company

when you're leaving, luca engulfs you in a hug and says with a pout, "nooo y/n why're you leaving me?" 

you pat him gently on the back and assure him that more off collabs will be planned in the future and that you both can still hang out online

he'd nod while still hugging you and says, "thank you for making this trip so fun y/n, i'll miss you."

"i'll miss you too luca." i'm so soft for him uweee ( 〃▽〃)

ike

ike would be one of the last few to join the group hug because he’s just so shocked that you’re literally standing right in front of him

he’d hug you again after the group hug and say, “aaahhh, it’s so good to see you y/n!”

he’d make you try caviar toast, let’s be real, mans is addicted to that stuff (≧▽≦)

ike’s social battery drains pretty quickly but he’d make sure that he’s around you, you guys don’t have to talk, he just loves being around you

ike would arrange to do multiple collabs with you, a clubhouse games 51 collab being one of the many collabs

since ike has a crush on you, flirty ike comes out to play, occasionally slipping in flirty comments whenever the chance arises

when you guys play connect 4, both of you get equally competitive so you’d both be taunting each other and trying to trick each other into making a wrong move

when ike wins and you just flop back onto the backrest of the couch feeling defeated, he sits closer to you saying, “aww you did really well y/n, you were 1 step away from beating me.”

he’d rub small circles on the back of your hand to help you feel better. i’m ascendingggggg 

when you win, ike goes, “what the hecky?? i did not see that coming, good job y/n!”

both of your twitter feeds will be full of fanart of the both of you, ike likes as many as he can and retweets a lot of them too

ike would take the time to get to know you properly and by the end of the off collab he would know your likes and dislikes like the back of his hand 

this might be ooc but i see you and ike taking a nap next to each other, with your head on his shoulder possibly

the rest will see it and go, “aaww”, nina will probably snap a photo secretly and send it to ike because mama knows ~

i feel like ike would ask you to accompany him to cafés for a little mid day snack or for brunch perhaps

ike and you would definitely be the ones to clean up and tidy up the airbnb, you guys would be dancing and singing along to vocaloid songs while cleaning. married life with ike brainrot go brr

when you guys go shopping, ike would be like luca, he’d compliment every item you try on and thinking about how stunning you look in every single item of clothing you try on

“y/n…you look amazing!!! definitely get that outfit and the other items of clothing that you tried earlier.”

when the group goes out to a bar to drink, i feel like ike would get tipsy and would be a little more flirty than usual but of course you’re too drunk to even realise that he’s flirting with you

i’d imagine that ike has a higher alcohol tolerance than you do so he’d end up wrapping an arm around your shoulder and vice versa, making sure that you get back safely

he would definitely take care of you the next morning when you’re nursing that hangover, bringing you the aspirin and water, then hanging out with you for the whole day, sitting beside you and reading a book, just scrolling through twitter on his phone or writing a novel, getting you whatever you need when you ask for it

when you tell him that he doesn’t have to stay with you, ike says, “i enjoy your company y/n, so don’t worry.” with that soft gentle smile (*/▽＼*)

when you’re leaving, ike would give you a long hug, rubbing his thumb slightly on your back saying, “it’s been such a pleasure spending time with you y/n, i hope we can do this again sometime soon.”

“likewise ikey, i always enjoy spending time with you.” i cri, i love ike

shu

shu would also be one of the last few to join the group hug because he’s stunned and at a loss for words but he’s so excited to get to spend time with you in person

he’d give you a hug and squeeze you a lil saying, “eyyyy y/n, welcome to paris, happy to have you here!”

shu is such a memer and has such zoomer humour that you’ll be laughing tons throughout the whole trip and shu appreciates that you laugh at his zoomer jokes

shu would also want to collab a lot with you, so plan a valorant training week with him as your coach

you’ve been watching all the other hopconners and want to give valorant a shot

you’d ask shu to coach you with the pien face and hoo boy, how could shu say no to that face, you got him blushing

“u-uh yeah, i’d be happy to coach you!”

he’s secretly so happy that you asked him to teach you

during the valorant stream, shu would sit beside you and get you to do some aim training first

at first you’d struggle with flicking your crosshair to the targets’ heads so shu stands behind you with a hand resting on the back of your chair, the other on your hand (asking permission first of course) to guide you on how to flick to the dummy’s heads. this made me blush (//▽//)

you’d get the hang of it really quickly after he demonstrated to you and he’d be so proud of you saying, “eyyyy! you got it y/n!”

your chat, consisting of the yaminions and your fans couldn’t see what was happening behind the scenes but saw how patient and gentle shu was being with you. your chat would be flooded with comments saying, “awww shu and y/n are so cute!”, “i feel like i’m third wheeling.”, “shu sounds so proud of y/n, that’s so cute!”

when you guys play unranked valorant games together, shu would definitely try his best because he wants to impress you. so when you hype him up as he’s getting kills and compliment him after saying that he’s absolutely cracked at the game, his heart flutters and he gets a little flustered. he’s so cute

during all the collabs that the both of you do, shu will slip in compliments whenever he can and he’d drop a few flirty comments here and there just to see if you’d get flustered. if you do, he finds it really fricking cute

if you have any technical difficulties, shu will be there to help in a heartbeat. he ain’t called shupport for nothing

shu would ask you if you’d like to go grab food with him and if no one else asks to tag along, he’s secretly really happy because he gets to spend more time with you alone

shu would definitely ask you to watch anime with him and if you end up falling asleep on his shoulder while watching, he’ll stay there and take a nap with you because he can’t bear to move when you look so cute resting on his shoulder like that

shu likes being around you, so if you’re hanging out in the living room, he’d be there too

if he watches something funny on youtube he’d show it to you so the both of you can laugh about it together and if he finds fan art or clips posted to youtube about the both of you that he likes, he’d show them to you on his phone

when the group goes out to a bar, both you and shu would get drunk after 2-3 drinks and shu gets a little bolder when he’s drunk so he’d probably start flirting a bit more. when you flirt back, shu blushes and gets all flustered

vox and ike will help get the both of you back to the airbnb safely but the whole time, shu will be holding your hand because he wants to make sure that you’re always with him and that nothing bad happens to you on the way back. protective shu >>>

the next day, shu would somehow not get a hangover but you will and he’ll be the one taking care of you. when you give him the pien face, asking him to give you headpats and stay with you, shu’s heart melts and he pats your hair gently, lulling you back to sleep

when you’re leaving, shu gives you a big long hug where you guys sway a little side to side. you giggle and he chuckles saying, “eyyy y/n, i really enjoyed hanging out with you during this off collab, let’s arrange for more in the future okay?”

shoto would also, like luca, run towards you immediately with arms wide open, yelling your name excitedly

after the group hug, shoto would give you a hug and squeeze you tight saying, “aaaahh im so happy you’re here y/n!”

shoto is kinda like a mix of vox and shu, he has zoomer humour but makes a ton of dirty jokes too so every time shoto makes a zoomer or dirty joke, you’d look at him with a deadpan face and say, “shoto...”

i feel like shoto would do minecraft collabs with you because they’re chill and relaxing , you both would make a little village of your own and go on mining adventures. sounds so relaxing (─‿‿─)♡

i also feel like shoto would get you to play valorant with him and shu but flirting with you throughout the whole collab making poor shu a thirdwheel (≧▽≦)

“hey y/n, if you clutch this i’ll give you a kiss.” “h-huh wait, what?” 

chat would be flying saying things like, “ayo???”, “shoto??”, “he said he would what??”

but you end up getting shot by the enemy because you were too flustered

shoto just chuckles and says, “maybe next time y/n.” but secretly his heart was racing

if vox is unable to be there when you plan on playing FNAF due to other collabs, shoto will sit in for him

whenever you get jumpscared, he’d get jumpscared too, occasionally (≧▽≦). but he’ll place a hand on your back, rubbing it slowly while encouraging you

“c’mon y/n you’re at 4am! it’s do-able, i believe in you!”, “YOU DID IT WOOOOO! i’m so proud of you!”

shoto would also compliment you a lot especially when he likes the outfits that you wear

“sheeesh y/n you look good!”

shoto would definitiely treat you to sushi, he’d ask, “hey y/n, would you like to go on a little sushi date with me?”

in the mornings shoto would also cook pancakes for you if you haven’t had anything to eat yet

“wait you haven’t had breakfast yet y/n? i’ll go cook up some pancakes for you real quick, stay right there.”

when you wanna go shopping, you bet shoto will ask to tag along. i wanna hc that shoto has pretty good fashion sense so he’d help pick out some outfits for you to try on. every outfit you tried on has his jaw dropping every single time. “omg, y/n you look amazing! you better get this outfit because holy crap you look so good.”

after all the shopping both of you would get boba, find a little bench to sit down, rest and chat a little

shoto would also be one to ask for you to watch anime with him, if you guys are both not in the mood to go anywhere. the both of you would just hang out in the living room of the airbnb watching anime. he’d sit right next to you with his legs crossed. after watching a few episodes you guys will just hang out, talking about what you thought about the few episodes that you’ve just watched

from all the collabs that the both of you have done, there will be lots of fan art of the both of you. shoto likes and retweets as many as he can. he would show them to you on his phone if you aren’t busy or if the both of you are just hanging out on the couch

when the group of you head out to a bar for some drinks, shoto has a higher alcohol tolerance than you do so you’d end up getting drunk after 2-3 drinks whereas he’d end off the night being just tipsy at most

you thought shoto was flirty before? meet tipsy shoto. shoto would definitely be flirting with you the whole time you guys were drinking. 

“you know what? this tastes pretty good, i’ll probably want a little more later.” 

“i know what i want a little more of later too.” 

“SHOTO!!!”

“just kidding...unless?” ( 〃▽〃) shoto please

shoto would wrap your arm around his shoulder and he does the same to you so that you won’t stumble and fall while you guys are heading back

if you get a hangover the next day, shoto will definitely be there to help you get over your hangover. he’d be there to bring you anything you want. you want ramen? he’ll go cook it. you want sushi? he’ll go out and get it. you need more water? he’s on it. he’ll be right beside you the whole time, keeping you company 

when you’re leaving, shoto gives you a long hug, rubbing your back slowly and says, “i loved spending time with you y/n, i’ll miss your presence...” pien shoto is so cute uweee

[redstarfish-art]

YGO WIP part 1

A/N: Halp, I’m falling from one fandom rarepair (One Piece: LuSan) to another fandom rarepair (YGO: Buddyshipping) and I’m starting to feel like I’ve just been hopping from one fandom to the next through the joint dude-with-bad-luck-in-life energy (Jason, Nico, Sanji, Joey). Like what’s going on?

Anyway, whatever, here’s a random buddyshipping (HonJou) drabble for the non-existent buddyshipping fandom:

One day. One day Honda will learn about Jounouchi’s latest crisis from Jounouchi himself. And not from a frantic call made by Yugi at 2am in the morning.

One day.

Honda had to believe that day was possible. Because that’s the only thing that’s stopping him from screaming and throwing things into the wall.

“Where did you last see him?” he asked Yugi, already pulling on his shoes. It was raining outside, which was going to make this even more of a pain than usual.

“By the docks. There was a duel.”

Of course there was a duel. There was always a duel. Honda bit his lip as he grabbed the family umbrella.

“Did he lose?” he asked.

“N-no. He won, everything was fine,” Yugi said, voice quiet. “We were going to the convenience store to celebrate.”

Great, it had better not be another kidnapping.

And Honda was not going to ask why Yugi and Jounouchi were out by the docks dueling in the middle of the night. He stopped asking a long time ago.

“Yami says he doesn’t sense any magic,” Yugi added. “We’ve been looking, but no luck yet.”

Honda wished Ryou had more of a handle on the Spirit of the Ring. He was pretty sure the vindictive spirit would be able to find Jounouchi in no time.

“I’ll look around the warehouses on the bike,” Honda said. “Keep me posted if you find anything.”

“I will.” Even though Honda knew that was more of a hopeful promise than anything. Yugi had a tendency to forget to call until it was over. Yami was worse.

TBC

A/N: Yeah, sorry, it’s short. But I felt like posting something.

Of course, immediately after writing this, I had a very random idea in which Kaiba has to do this matchmaking challenge for PR reasons. He picks Honda mostly because Honda also like long coats (and he figures it’d be easy to just send Honda to his personal tailor), only to regret his choice immensely when he finds out the guy Honda wants to date is Joey.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

[Mu Shu “I live” gif goes here]

SO. TDP posted this today and now I have LIFE. Go read it if you haven’t! I’mma break down all the moonfam goodness I’m seeing peeking around the edges of this very very Moonshadow happysad birthday information.

Runaan and Ethari both like books now. Can you imagine them just sitting together under a tree, casually touching with feet or shoulders, each engrossed in their own book, being delightfully introverted together? Maybe reading each other the most interesting parts of their books as they come across them? Aahhh. It’s so soft.

Rayla is the one who insists on the adoraburr meadow picnics! She’s decided that her stabby dad needs these picnics! I love this so much. Ethari pretends he’s helpless in the wake of Rayla’s picknicky juggernaut, but I gotta ask you: who makes the picnic food? It’s definitely Ethari.

Also! Why does Rayla think picnics are birthday-worthy? I wonder if Lain and Tiadrin did this with her before they left for the Storm Spire. Whose birthday got a picnic? Was it each of them? A family tradition that Rayla adored and insisted on continuing with her new dads! Ohmygod it’s the sweetest thing!

And I’m so soft for the fact that Rayla believes Runaan deserves this birthday celebration ritual even though he’s quiet and stabby. She doesn’t care that he’s a natural loner. He’s family, and she’s going to care about him whether he likes it or not. ohgodmyheart

These big strong dads getting foiled--repeatedly--by a tiny elfling with pockets full of adoraburrs though. Halp.

Okay the moscato detail is sending me, guys. Before Rayla came to live with them, Runaan’s birthday probably consisted of reading under trees and then moscato and a quiet night in. Moscato is a sweet wine, and it’s not very high in alcohol content. Runaan doesn’t really do sweet, so I think he drinks this particular wine for Ethari. But if he’s a lightweight, it could get him tipsy anyway. This page started by telling us that Runaan has a hard time relaxing, so maybe the moscato is his way of uhhh letting down his hair, just for Ethari? holy shnikes it’s my mdzs headcanon

Ethari’s gifts have a whole bunch of little details tucked in there though! Ethari knew Runaan for what seems to be many years before they married. He knew him as a “young assassin.” Awww man, I need all kinds of details there! And of course he spent many hours working on a joke gift for Runaan. A sweet, cute tasteful jeweled mouse. That’s just... I can’t, Ethari is too pure! But I bet he loved to practice his craft and made fun gifts for all his friends. What dedication, though. A true jeweler at heart.

And he’s observant, watching Runaan when Runaan thinks he isn’t being watched. He does that, with Runaan and with Callum in the show. He just likes to watch everyone around him, to know them. Part of his friendly charm! 

Can we get an awww for young Runaan petting an itty bitty Moonstrider? Because awww. Did he pick that one? Is that his mount? Did he insta bond with her and need to take her home that day? I think he might’ve! Runaan seems to make heartfelt decisions in a snap, despite his stoic exterior.

It’s literally a heartbloom flower, that’s its name, I hoped it was. I wanna know all the traditions around those flowers now. They seem very Moonshadow, tied so strongly with life and all its good things.

I’m angsty over the shift in Ethari’s gift choices though. When they were young, he made Runaan a mouse, because he thought the assassin was so quiet. Last year, his gift was supposed to be a three-eyed nightfox, a stabby hunter. Because he thought Runaan would like it. Runaan’s changed so much since they were young, and it makes me have feels. I mean, all the adults have changed. All three dads got harder. But this... ow my feels. Ethari’s just a craftsman in love, trying to make his handsome husband’s stabbiness beautiful. And he does. He looks at Runaan and he sees sleek efficient lines, an apex predator, perfectly suited for his job. He sees Runaan with an artist’s eye, and a lover’s eye. Every move Runaan makes is lovely to Ethari, the epitome of deadly grace. So he crafts his husband a dramatic, lovely fox while Runaan’s in Katolis.

Angst warning!

Runaan had his birthday in Katolis after all. He left home before his birthday, and Ethari took that time to craft the nightfox, to have it ready in time for Runaan’s birthday. But Runaan never came home. Whether he was in the dungeon or the coin, Runaan missed out on sharing that special day with Ethari and Rayla in the meadow. He missed out on those glasses of moscato, on letting Ethari surprise him with yet another jeweled trinket.

Runaan missed his birthday. If you have a birthday in the in-between space of the coin, do you really have a birthday at all? Maybe Aaravos knows the answer to that question.

Okay, more angst, but then a silver lining, okay? I promise.

When Runaan’s lotus sank and Ethari had to ghost Rayla with the rest of the village, he lost the last two members of his family, the two closest to him. In the last five months, Ethari lost every member of the moonfam, and he was completely alone. Three of them ghosted for cowardice, and one dead. Of course his husband remained honorable. But he still died. He still isn’t coming home. He still missed his birthday.

Moonshadows are tightly knit introverts. They need each other very deeply, even though they don’t go around expressing it with every breath. They spend time together and give each other gifts to show their love and affection, instead of blurting their feels with words. Runaan, Ethari, and Rayla were deeply rocked when Lain and Tiadrin supposedly ran away and abandoned their duty. They were each a different kind of mess as a result, but they clung together all the harder. And then, Ethari lost them both. And he was the only one left. 

This is Very Not Good Tee Emm for a Moonshadow. They literally need other Moonshadows to be in their lives. And Ethari is so open with his feels, and they’re so strong for his sweet family, and especially for Runaan, that he was actually dying of his grief. Just like Zubeia, who’d been married to Avizandum for how many elven lifetimes. It’s impossible to live without your heart. You just can’t. And so, Ethari crafted a different trinket. Not one for Runaan. Not anymore. But a trinket in memory of Runaan. A dying weeping-tree leaf. Ethari was going to die of grief for all his lost family, for his lost husband. That trinket? That was for everyone else, after he’d gone. To tell them why he died. He spent hours on it, making it with all his usual focus and dedication. Because it was going to be his very last piece. He wanted it to be just right.

Okay now I’ll make it a little better, yeah?

First of all, obviously, Rayla came back! Ethari isn’t going to die. He’s living for Rayla, helping her out, supporting her with everything he’s got, fighting to get her un-ghosted. She’s the only family he has. She’s his world now, and he’s never going to stop loving and supporting her, ever again.

But secondly, *hands you tissues* surely Runaan knew his husband deep down, after all their years together. He may have been a stabby nightfox on the outside, but his heart was attuned to Ethari’s. When he saved Rayla, he did it for love of her. But when he told her to go home...

...He knew, guys. He knew how terribly Ethari would suffer if he lost literally everyone in such a short span. He knew it would be the end of Ethari, that he couldn’t take such a devastating blow on top of the one they’d already suffered.

Runaan didn’t just save Rayla for her own sake. He saved her so Ethari would still have someone to love and care for. So his husband would still have family.

Runaan’s mission was a disaster, and his whole team was lost. But he didn’t just save one life with his last sacifice. He saved two. Runaan saved the rest of his family by sending Rayla home to Ethari. He saved them both. The stabby dark nightfox is more than just a hunter. He’s a husband and a father, and he’ll do whatever he must for his family. 

Ethari won’t need that dying weeping-tree trinket. And he’s already made something since: his lighthawk, that carries a message of life. Ethari only needed to know that Rayla was alive and well and needed his help, and he found his purpose again. The moonfam’s going to be okay, because Runaan sent Rayla home to save Ethari’s life. And sooner or later, they’ll save his in return.

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Poetic Tragedy (Chapter 1)

So...uh… Yeah, this happened. I was in the middle of writing chapter 13 of Blood in the Water, the sequel to Such a Softer Sin, and this idea hit me and I had to get it down. No idea where I’m going with this or how long it will be, just kinda riding this one out looool.

Pre BDS because I’m obsessed apparently. I’ll get to the other like 7 BDS fics I’ve started eventually, I haven't even posted most of them yet :’)

MurphyxOCxConnor. I just can't write about one anymore apparently, I love them both too much.

Halp.

I'll warn you right now, it's a sad one and there's warnings for talk of addiction and mentions of suicide.

The title of this fic was once again inspired by a song by The Used - Poetic Tragedy, it inspired my new OC Madeleine (I genderbent the lyrics lololol).

Then in violent, frustration, she cries out to God or just no one

Is there a point to this madness and all that she was...

Is just a tragedy

--------------------------------

The streets of South Boston were bitter with the harsh wind, winter was coming and that meant trouble for all of those that had no homes. Madeleine Ryan was one of those poor homeless souls. This life wasn’t new to her though, she had been homeless since she ran away at 15. Her mother was a prostitute, a junkie to top it all off. Madeleine had put up with a lot in her young years, but coming home from school to see her mother lifeless on the mattress she slept on, vomit from her mouth, well that shit doesn't leave you. Her mother had overdosed on heroin, and the state was about to take custody of her. She wasn't stupid, she knew that spelled trouble for her, she had known people from the system. So she fled. Life on the streets was hard, but it could have been worse for her in the system. One girl she knew from school got molested by her foster father, and Madeleine wasn't about that shit.

She was 20 now, or at least she thought she was, keeping track of birthdays wasn't really important now. She was nobody, she was a ghost. She didn't know what date it was, she had no clue. She had to use the weather to gauge what month it was and the only way she knew the time is if she managed to get a glimpse of a clock somewhere. She was a petite girl, lack of nourishment had left her on the smaller side, she was still a growing girl when she had taken up this life. Her long brown hair was a tangled mess in a bun that she was sure had been in for well over a year. She was filthy, she hadn't been able to bathe in far too long. The Catholic church sometimes held days where they fed the homeless, let them use the facilities to get cleaned up. It had been at least a year and she felt disgusting. But this was just how it was now. Looks weren’t a priority anymore, survival was.

Her once bright blue eyes were dulled down to more of a grey, the life had been sucked out of her living on the streets. She had seen things she never wished she had, done things she would never utter, just to survive. By the age of 16 she was addicted to the same drug that had taken her mother's life, she had sold herself to feed her addiction, losing her virginity to some old dude for $10. She had been a mess, in trouble with the law way too much, but when she got to the age of around 18, she realised she couldn't carry on that way. She was haunted by the image of her mother's dead body and she didn't want to end up the same way, getting knocked up by a customer, killing herself accidentally. That wasn't the life she wanted. She was on the straight and narrow now, she didn't steal anymore or sell her body, she had been clean for two years which was a feat considering she was faced with temptation every day. But she wanted more for herself, even if that was just still on the streets, but not sinking so low.

She was wearing a dark green chunky sweater but it did little to stave of the cold that was seeping into her bones, it was getting dark now and it would only get colder. The jumper was much too big for her and was covered in dirt and holes, much like her jeans. Her sneakers were beat up to hell and were a size too small, but it was better than no shoes at all. She had a thin blanket and she wrapped it around herself tighter to try and warm up, but it was no use.

She had been in this current spot for a week before, but she had moved a few nights ago somewhere else and it didn't end well for her, so now she was back here. She moved around a lot to stop to cops bitching at her, and this place seemed decent enough. It was the Irish part of Southie, people tended to be more generous here and she felt somewhat safer. No one harassed her here or hurt her, so when she left and found another spot, it didn't surprise her too much when she had the shit kicked out of her and had her money stolen by some addicts. The was the night before, and now she was back next to the Irish pub she felt safest at. Her cup was empty, a painful reminder of how she had let her defenses slip. It wasn't much that they had taken, but it was the money she would have used for food, and now she had nothing. Her stomach was growling painfully and she sighed, resting her forehead on her knees. It was times like this when her past haunted her, reminding her of how easy it was for her to earn money from her body and be able to buy food. But she didn't want to sink back to that, she would rather starve than degrade herself that way ever again.

She heard some voices and glanced up, seeing two men walking down the street, she recognised them. They had never exchanged words, but the boys always gave her some money as they went past before slipping into the pub every night. When they got to her, they were bantering as they usually did, she wondered if they were brothers by the way they carried on at each other. They reached into their pockets, the brown-haired one letting his smoke dangle from his lips but when he glanced at her, a deep frown etched into his usually boyish features.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” He muttered as he took his smoke in his hands and used the other to smack the dark blonde's chest. The man looked to the darker haired boy confused, huffing a ‘the fuck?’,  before he looked at the girl, his own frown taking over his face. Madeleine was confused for a minute before she realised her face was most likely bruised. It wasn't like she had seen herself in the mirror.

The blonde one crouched down in front of her and she just blinked at him, the closeness was unsettling her. He reached out like he meant to take her chin, maybe to get a good look at the damage but she looked down, avoiding his grasp and putting off a definite vibe of don't fucking touch. They might have been decent enough to give her money when they saw her, but she knew better than to trust just anyone. He seemed to take the hint, standing back up and looking at her apologetically. The brown haired one was still watching her looking troubled.

“They take yer money?” The darker haired one asked, nodding his head to her empty cup. By the time they always saw her she usually always had at least something in it. She wouldn't look at them or speak, she just nodded. Their concern was making her feel uncomfortable, she wasn't used to anyone giving a shit about her. They muttered to each other in another language and they sounded tense, it only made her even more uncomfortable.

They looked back at her and she was still sat there, pulling the blanket tight around herself and unable to look at them. She was shocked when one of them put a $10 bill in her cup. She looked up just in time to see it was the blonde one and the other one followed suit, putting in another $10 bill in the cup. She furrowed her brows, confused why they seemed to want to help her so much but she tried to ignore it, she didn't want to seem ungrateful.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice sounding weird even to her own ears since she rarely had the need to use it. It was the first time she’d ever uttered a word to the brothers and she was graced with matching grins. It bothered her that those grins made her feel a little weird inside.

“Not a problem love.” The brown haired one spoke with a kind smile.

“Maybe ye should stick around this area, it's safer.” The blonde one mused, glancing around the streets. Southie wasn't the best place full stop but if anyone tried to cause shit here in the Irish neighbourhood they were in, people would intervene. The girls busted lip, bruised nose and bruised jaw looked like no one had jumped in to help her. They wouldn't be surprised if she had more bruises on her body.

Madeleine nodded, looking back down. She didn’t like staying in one place for too long but he had a point, it was only when she left this area for another this happened. She had been here for a week successfully with no problems before that. Maybe she would stick around here until the cops started to hassle her.

When it became clear the girl didn't want to talk, they gave her nods and went on their merry way to the pub. Madeleine glanced at the money, taking it and putting it in her pants pocket. She didn't want anyone seeing it and trying to take it, she felt more on guard now after what happened the night before. It had been years since she had been mugged like that and she was a little shaken up. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, maybe a couple of hours, when the darker haired boy stepped outside, lighting a smoke. He was swaying on his feet a little, seemingly intoxicated. He glanced over at her and she just watched him carefully as he grinned, sauntering over.

“Heya love, mind if I sit?” He asked, not really waiting for an answer as he plonked himself down on the sidewalk next to her. She felt awkward, she wasn't used to making conversation and she hadn't expected anyone to just waltz up to her and sit with her. People usually avoided the homeless, they didn't go sitting with them. They were silent for a moment as he smoked, his back against the wall as they sat side by side. She wasn't really sure why he wanted her company.

“Ye pocketed that money?” He asked curiously, casting a side glance at her. She nodded feeling mildly perturbed he had figured that out, even in his inebriated state.

“Aye, good girl. Don't need a repeat o’ what happened te ye.” He frowned, discarding his smoke once he was done with it. He shifted to sit facing her and she blinked at him. Physical contact with humans wasn't something she was used to, it had been a few years since anyone had touched her with exception of the night before, but she liked to think punches didn't count. The man seemed to have no boundaries. He took her chin in his hand, much like the other boy wanted to do before, and she tensed. He either didn't notice or he ignored it as he tilted her head one way, then another, assessing her injuries with a frown.

The pub door opened and closed once more and her eyes looked over to see the blonde one, she couldn't turn her head fully since the darker haired boy still had a hold of her face.

“Fuckin’ hell Murph, I leave ye alone for a minute and yer harassin’ the poor thing.” The blonde huffed, staggering over, he seemed more drunk than ‘Murph’ did. He released her face then, looking a little apologetic, like he only just realised in his alcohol-soaked mind he had been touching her.

“Fuck off Connor, was just checkin’ her over.” Murphy scowled, seemingly in jest though as ‘Connor’ sat down next to him, the both of them now facing her. Awkward seemed to be the theme of the day for her apparently. Connors' eyes glanced to her once again empty cup and his eyes widened almost comically.

“Christ! Have ye been mugged again?!” He asked incredulously and she couldn't help it when her lips quirked up in a small smile. He really was drunk. Murphy snorted at him, reaching out and smacking him around the head playfully.

“She’s put it in her pocket ye dumb shite, ain't gonna leave it out for everyone te see is she? She’s much smarter than that.” Murphy grinned, making her blush a little at the compliment. He caught her eyes and gave her a cheeky wink and she bit her lip, looking down so he couldn't see her pink cheeks.

Connor smacked Murphy's head in retaliation with a huff.

“Ain’t a dumb shite, I’m a drunk shite, there's a difference.” He declared as he pointed at him, looking back to the girl and flashing her a grin. They definitely had to be brothers with the way the pair were with each other.

“So girl, ye know our names by now, what's yers?” Murphy asked curiously as he looked at her. She chewed the inside of her cheek, no one ever asked her name, her name didn't matter out here where she was a nobody. Yet these two were looking at her so intensely like her name was the most important thing they'd ever know. It was making her feel uncomfortable and awkward again, she was used to being invisible.

“Madeleine.” She whispered softly, pulling the sleeves of her oversized jumper over her hands in a comforting way.

“Well Madeleine, me lovely lass, it's a pleasure te meet ye. Sorry ye have the displeasure o’ meetin’ me dumb shite brother over here.” Murphy smirked, full on laughing when Connor hit him again.

“Ignore him Madeleine, he’s just sour that I’m the older brother.” Connor grinned triumphantly. She looked at them, once again amused at their antics, it distracted her from feeling out of place and having too much attention when their attention was focused on hitting each other.

“Fuck you, I’m the oldest and ye know it.” Murphy huffed, making Madeleine tilt her head curiously at them, how would they not know?

Connor caught her confused look and smiled at her.

“We’re twins lass, our Ma won’t tell us who the oldest is, even though everyone knows it's me.” He snickered, making Murphy roll his eyes.

“Listen here, Maddie’s a clever girl, she knows I’m the most reliable o’ the two o’ us. I knew what she’d done wit’ the money and yer the dumb shite that thought she’d been mugged again, I think we know who she’s more likely te listen te.” Murphy insisted with a lopsided grin. She blushed lightly again at the nickname, no one had ever called her a nickname. This was all new to her and honestly a little weird.

The boys carried this on for what felt like forever, just bantering with each other and trading insults. It was as if they read her well, knowing she was too shy and withdrawn to partake in a conversation, so they spoke enough for the three of them, keeping her amused as she watched them. She wasn't sure how long had passed when the pub door opened again and this time a guy with shaggy hair and a beard came stumbling out.

“Rocco!” The boys exclaimed gleefully in unison, making Madeleine snort lightly to herself. The man in question turned to look at them, a huge grin spreading on his face.

“Fuck guys! It’s damn near been an hour, everyone's wonderin’ where you got off to.” He said as he walked over, well as good as he could with how much he had drank. His eyes fell to the girl then and she felt awkward and lowered her head. He didn't make a comment though, it might have had something to do with the pointed looks the boys were giving him.

“We’ll be right in Roc.” Connor smiled, making the man nod and grin before he went back inside. She felt a pang of something that was unfamiliar with the thought of once again being on her own. She was used to being alone so she wasn't sure why the thought of the boys going was so unappealing. It wasn't like she had even contributed to the conversation, it was just nice to have company and it had been amusing for her to watch them interact. She hadn't smiled in a long time, and the both of them had made her smile a lot in the time they had sat with her. The boys watched her for a moment before glancing to each other, and she could have sworn it was like they were talking through that look.

“Why don’t ye come in wit’ us lass? Get a nice warm drink in ye and some food?” Connor suggested. Her eyes widened at the suggestion and the boys noticed how they darted to the door and back down to her hands. It was too crowded in there. Homeless people weren't really welcome anywhere, she’d been tossed out of numerous places. She was embarrassed if she was honest, she was more than aware she was filthy and looked a mess, she wasn't sure how the boys standed to look at her.

“What if we went and got ye somethin’ te eat and brought it out here for ye? Would that make ye more comfortable?” Murphy asked softly as he looked at her with a small comforting smile. Once again he seemed to read her pretty well, the boy was astute even when drunk. She thought about it for a moment, still not understanding why they were helping her or why they had chosen to just spend an hour talking to her and keeping her company, but they were offering a meal, an actual meal, and it felt too good to pass up.

“Yes please.” She smiled, her voice still small and almost timid like she was afraid to use it.

The boys exchanged a glance again and Murphy stood up, patting his brother on the back before going inside. She blinked to Connor wondering why he had chosen to stay sat there with her and not go into the warmth.

“Aren’t ye cold lass?” He asked looking concerned as he reached out and rubbed the blanket between his thumb and finger, like he was testing the thickness. The frown on his face told her he wasn't stupid even if he was drunk, the blanket was thin and wasn't doing much to help with the weather. She shook her head, outright lying to him and he squinted.

“Bullshit, this might as well be made o’ toilet paper.” He huffed, reaching out and taking her by surprise as he grabbed her hand, his eyes widening when he felt how cold it was.

“Fuckin’ hell lass, ye feel like an ice cube!” He frowned, taking both of her hands in his, rubbing them to warm him up. She was surprised at how warm he was. He was wearing his coat but it was still cold yet his hands were lovely and warm.

She felt weird at the physical touch, but the warmth felt too good for her to pull away. She just watched him carefully as he brought their hands up to his mouth and he blew on them, making even more warmth seep into her cold hands. She wasn't sure how long they sat like that for in comfortable silence before Murphy suddenly came back out with a steaming bowl of something and a cup of something hot. Connor let go of her hands, giving her a beaming smile as Murphy sat back in his place, a matching smile like he was so proud of himself for getting her something to eat and drink.

“Hot chocolate and some good old Irish stew, it’ll warm ye right up.” He grinned, handing her the bowl and setting her cup down on the floor.

“Thank you.” She smiled, enjoying the heat the bowl was giving her. It smelt amazing, she only ever managed to buy herself something small and cheap, she hadn't had anything cooked like this in far too long. In her most desperate times she had rummaged through dumpsters for leftover food she could eat. The pair of them were watching her and she just looked back, blinking at them and wondering if they were going to stare at her whilst she ate, she fucking hoped not. As if they got the message, they turned to each other and they started to talk in another language.

She wasn't sure if it bothered her, not knowing what they were saying, but their body language was relaxed and she just started to eat her food. She ate it slowly, not used to such food and her stomach was pretty small by this point. She was struggling to finish it but she forced herself to. She wasn't sure when she’d get another meal like this and she knew better than to waste it. When she was done, she set the bowl down and took the cup, sipping it slowly. She closed her eyes, relishing the taste. She hadn't had a hot chocolate since she was a child, this really was a treat. When she opened her eyes she found the boys watching her with goofy grins and she blushed, looking down.

“It's good aye? Doc makes a mean hot chocolate.” Murphy smiled widely at her, she chanced a glance at him and smiled softly with a nod. The boys didn't seem to phased with her lack of conversational skills, they didn't force small talk on her and were more than happy to carry the conversation themselves and she was grateful. This whole experience was a little overwhelming. Rocco came back out, shouting to the boys that people were waiting on them for a game of pool and she felt that disappointment again. The boys sighed and muttered something to each other she couldn't understand before looking back at her.

“Will ye be alright?” Connor asked, actually looking concerned. She nodded, mustering up a grateful smile, they had done a lot for her after all. They didn't seem satisfied but when Rocco came out once more, they grumbled to themselves and stood up. They looked down at her, almost like they wanted to say something but they seemed to think better of it, just giving her a smile and wave before they headed back inside.

She breathed a sigh of relief, as much as she enjoyed their company, it had been taxing and totally new to her, she wasn't used to this attention from anyone. She was grateful for the food, for the company and the fact they had made her smile, but she would much rather continue to be a ghost. Having no one notice she existed. For the first time in a very long time, she felt the weight of being alone. She sighed to herself, laying down and curling into a ball, her back to the wall. Hours later, she heard the boys on their way home, singing obnoxiously and laughing. She didn't open her eyes but she smiled to herself as she slipped back off to sleep.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @arlaina28 @daryldixonandfrogs @divadinag

[pagannightwitch]

Tumblr Writers Q&A Thanks for tagging me @javierpinme !🌿🍄🌿

1) How many complete fics/one shots do you have that you have not published (yet)? No complete ones! Just a bunch of lil WIPS.

2) How many WIPS do you have right now? Do you take writing requests or write original ideas, or both? Mmm, two I think? The sequel to "Heart of a Mandalorian" and a possible continuation of my Frankie short series "The Dance". Technically three, I have the beginning scraps of a Marcus Pike one, but doubt that's gonna go anywhere.

I would take requests if anyone wanted to send them in, but mostly it's shower thots or dreams that spark mine.

3) Do you take writing requests or write original ideas, or both? Right now? Only original ideas. Original-ish, most of the stuff I write are my take on particular tropes. :p

4) If you do take requests, how many do you currently have? I ain't got none, hon.

5) How many fandoms do you write for? Just the Pedro Pascal men. <3

6) Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you no longer write for? Nope, I've never attempted writing anything before the Pedro character stuff. :) 7) Do you write for ships, reader inserts or other? Right now, just reader inserts. I don't feel comfortable trying to write anything else. Just easier for me to articulate what I want the characters to feel if it's from "my" perspective.

8) Niche fandoms/characters you write for? No? lol, I don't think I understand this one...What's a niche character??

9) Do you read fics as well as write them? I read so much fic it's fuckin' nuts. I don't know that I read much else at this point in muh lyfe. I dabble in writing.

10) What is your favorite genre to write for? SMUT. Sweet stuff, usually fluffy sweet smut. Though I do have a 4 part fic that has no smut at all in it. A feat for me, but one of my favorite things I've personally done.

11) What is your favorite trope (to read/write)? Ooh, I love this question. Friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, idiots who don't realize they love each other, one bed, grumpy and sunshine love each other, uuuummmmm. There's more. I love caretakers, sweet folks, and love. I don't like sad endings.

12) What do you do to get motivated to write? Read other peeps fics! Daydream, listen to music, watch movies. I mean, there's lots of stuff to motivate but most often it's something like, screaming at myself silently in my brain, staring in the middle distance. "WRITE, EGGHEAD. WRIIIIIITE."

13) Is there a trope/genre you like to read, but not write? It's not that I don't like to write it, it's that I don't feel comfortable yet attempting it...Smut with more than two people. I love reading it, it can be gorgeous, sweet, sexy, etc, it's just difficult handling two fictional people trying to bump uglies and make it sound nice, more than that and I'm like, HALP. TO MANY GENITAL

14) Any characters/fandoms you want to write for that are never requested?Nope, coz I've never gotten a request. Tho, they're not open atm coz I'm SCARED. What if I do the thing wrong? I DON'T WANT TO DISSAPOINT D:

15) How long have you been writing fanfiction? Uhhhh, couple of months I guess? Do daydreams count? I've been making up elaborate stories in my head, inserting myself into my favorite media since I can remember. But this is the first time I've attempted to share it with the outside world.

16) Did you read fanfiction before you started writing? Oh yes. So much fanfiction. So much.

17) Do you only post on Tumblr, or any other sites as well? Nerp, just Tumblr for now.

18) What do you personally consider the word counts of “Drabble”, “One shots” and “fics”?

Errr, drabbles are short, yeah? Maybe a thousand words or so? One shots is just that right, a one time fic in that little story you're writing. A fic I use as a general term for all of it. Any fan created story I call a fic.

19) Which do you prefer to write more? HC, drabbles, oneshots/fics, multi chapter stories, other? I'm still finding myself. One shots at the moment, but I did enjoy the short series I wrote about Frankie, "The Dance". Since I am so brand spanking new at writing, I prefer to just get my thots out and see where they take me. I'm not super strong with long term story elements or dialogue. It takes me a long time to write anything for how many times I edit and re-write things.

20) Are there any stories you have discontinued? If so, why?I started writing something that didn't have a title that I never posted ANYWHERE. Just as practice with a thot I had about Din Djarin. AU where the reader lives in a universe where Star Wars doesn't exist, who is plunged into the Star Wars universe after wishing herself there during an abusive episode from her husband/boyfriend. Din and Grogu take care of her. She slowly opens up, befriends the boys and falls in love. It didn't feel very strong, but it was great practice. All 40k words live in my drafts on googledocs.

21) What is one of your main “pet-peeves” as a writer on Tumblr? Anon hate and people only liking content and not reblogging. If you don't have anything nice to say, fuck off. Nobody needs that kind of negativity in their life, seriously. If you like something REBLOG IT. Jesus, it's polite ok? It gets the content creator out to a wider audience and it just FEELS NICE TO SEE AS A CONTENT CREATOR. It means that what we made wasn't utter shit, and some other little internet gremlin liked it. It feels good.

22) Do you write at a particular time of day? Anytime the fic gods see fit to bless my brain with thots.

23) Do you listen to music, ambiance/noise, etc. to write or do you need silence? Honestly? I rarely listen to music when I write. I have two kids I homeschool, and we often have something educational on tv, or spongebob or something on when we aren't doing school. I feel most comfortable writing on google docs on my cell phone now, since that's easiest to cart around, and I can whip it out and jot things down wherever I'm at. So amient sound of two small goblins, spongebob, murder shows, WAP, whatever. It's never super set. I write when I get a minute, sounds around me are not even a secondary thought.

24) Do you outline your fics at all before writing? Hell no, buckle up bitches! Not even the writer knows where this shit's going. 🤣😂🤣

25) Do you post your writing as soon as you finish it, or do you schedule it to come out at a specific time/day? It takes me two weeks of writing, two weeks of editing, another week of should I post/should I not post, this is trash, lemme edit it one more time and it'll be right. Ah fuck it. YEET. Have some smut, fellow internet gremlins. THERE IS NO SET TIME. THE TIME COMES WHEN THE FIC IS DONE.

No pressure tagging! @write-and-buried @musings-of-a-rose @rosellacwrites @lowlights @stefiangel2 @chaoticgeminate @daddydindjarin @youvebeenlivingfictional

[dramallamadingdang]

Replies!

Some overdue, as usual. :)

For @blackswan-sims. @wiksims, @celebkiriedhel, @deedledops, @declarations-of-drama, @dunne-ias, @deedee-sims, @hemfbg, @strangetomato, @youregonewhenyourestillinmyheart, and @patjustpatposts.

blackswan-sims replied to your post “Would you mind uploading you rotated garage tutorial shell house? :) I...”

I'm not the requester, but I wouldn't mind having it packaged as shown in the title pic. :)

Well, now that I think about it, I could pretty easily do it both ways, so maybe I’ll just do that. :) Especially if I don’t hear back from the anon before I get around to doing it.

wiksims replied to your photo “Pixelhate’s mesh: No white lines, doesn’t fade…but boy howdy does it...”

I kind of like it stretched. It fits dormen right in my opinion

It does look all right for that dormer, yeah, which is 12 clicks tall. But there’ll be a problem for ones meant for shorter walls, especially for foundations and foundation-height walls. So, I’ll need to experiment to figure out how to compensate for the stretching for those shorter walls and then I can decide whether to allow the stretching or not. I’m thinking maybe the trick to compensate for the wall stretching that the game does might work, since the texture image for the overlay is the same size as the standard image size for walls, but I’ll need to experiment.

celebkiriedhel replied to your post “hugelunatic replied to your post “Halp?” ...”

The other overlay you may want to consider is the EA Butterfly Decal Mesh. It's a Half-Wall, and doesn't fade.

That’s a possibility, although for 12-click-high walls I need taller than half-wall height. Although if that thing shifts, since it’s a painting....

deedledops replied to your post “Halp?”

I could swear the object fade was a simpe thing. I know there's an option in game that affects it as well, but I have found that some stuff I recolor, like paintings doors etc would do this depending on how I imported new textures. I think it was to do with the dxt format I used (dds utilities). The most used ones are dxt1, 3, 5 IIRC. I could be more helpful if I had recolored anything recently smh, I'll look into it

It is a SimPE thing, in that it’s a BHAV thing and that BHAVs can be altered in SimPE. I don’t really know how to alter them, though. It’d be easier to clone an object that doesn’t fade and then replace the mesh with the wall writing one. Then you don’t have the fading behavior. But I don’t really know how to do that, myself. I know how to clone stuff, but I don’t know how to do the mesh-replacing thing. Soooooo, it’s probably easier for me to just use a different mesh that doesn’t fade. :)

But, it doesn’t have anything to do with the texture (I pretty much always use DXT3 when I make recolors; even if there’s no transparency, the image quality is better), and some things (stairs, ceiling plants) still fade even when you have fading turned off in the game settings (which I do). I understand why, for playing purposes, since stairs especially can block a lot of your view, but it’s annoying when you want to take pics and stuff. :\ Especially previews for recolors.

declarations-of-drama replied to your photo “This is an idea I have. I’ll often build decorative-only dormers on...”

Gene Wilder would say "Cleeevvvveeeerrrr!!" (Willy Wonka saying 'clever' to Mike Teevee)

Heh. I prefer to think of it in the Jurassic Park “Clever girl” sense. ;) OK, not really. I don’t tear apart and eat people. So we’ll stick with the Willy Wonka sense, I guess. :)

dunne-ias replied to your post “My Sims-Related New Year’s Resolutions”

both me and holley have shared posebox images with each other, so just give us a shout when you're going to get started, in case we have some DeeDee doesn't have. I have 2-300 poseboxes though, and I don't have pictures for all of them. I strongly suggest collection folders for poseboxes, because they clog up your misc categories something awful. Also, any posing advice needed at all, don't hesitate to ask, I love talking about that stuff!

deedee-sims replied to your post “My Sims-Related New Year’s Resolutions”

Oh, I have a separate folder called posebox swatches, because I have way too many, and never know which is which, so I think that's perfectly normal XD (also, fortunately most of the poseboxes come with such picture that I can add to the folder)

We need, like, a database for this stuff. Not that *I* want to put one together, mind you, but it’d be helpful. I have this very old thing, a Word document IIRC, that I found on the web somewhere many years ago that has links to poseboxes (which no longer work, of course) and descriptions and some reference pics, but....Yeah, it’s like 8 years old, at least. But I like its format because it has notes about stretchskeleton settings needed and stuff like that, so that’s kind of what I want to put together for my own uses.

But thank you, Dunne-ias for the offer and the advice. And I’m sure that when I end up screaming in frustration and wanting to kill things with my brain, I’ll end up screaming for you and/or Holley. :)

hemfbg replied to your photoset “OMG, I went into my building neighborhood to start on a...”

This is glorious. I wanna rebuild it but I don't think my game could handle a lot that big.

It is fabulous in its sheer awfulness, isn’t it?? :D But I totally would never play something this big, as I’m sure that once furnished, landscaped, and populated with Sims, it would choke my poor Simming computer to death. :) I mean, it’s on the largest possible lot, outside of Lot Adjusting it to 6x6, and it takes up most of it. Even if it didn’t choke my computer, it’d take Sims a Sim-hour, at least, to walk from one end of it to the other. Then they’d be missing carpools and school buses and it’d piss me right the hell off. I mean, that’s mainly why I’ll never play a lot larger than 4x3, preferably not larger than 3x3.

Nah, I built that thing mostly as a furnishing/decorating challenge, which will require approximately 1000 retextures/recolor of some very old and (now) nasty-looking “fancy” objects. I would never actually play the thing.

strangetomato replied to your post “loonyjelly replied to your post “So, um…I need an image host so that...”

I wouldn't recommend Tumblr for this. I've done it in the past and then my images disappeared later. They were still on Tumblr, but not the post that links to them.

That’s kinda what I feared, that it’d work for a while until Tumblr noticed the off-site hotlinking and changed the path to the images or something. I mean, that’s what I’d do, if I ran Tumblr, set up bots to look for that sort of thing. So, in the end, I went with Imgur. Even opened an account. Even if I only ever use it for storing pics for Secret Santa gifts...Well, at least it’s there. :)

youregonewhenyourestillinmyheart replied to your photoset “I needed these for my cabin/”hotel”-building project. Thought I’d...”

I need it for ts4

patjustpatposts replied to your photoset “I needed these for my cabin/”hotel”-building project. Thought I’d...”

These are amazing ! Wish they were for Sims 4 :(

Well, I’m not sure what Inge’s policy on converting for other games is. Heck, I’m not even sure if she’s in the Simming community anymore at all. But if she’s amenable and someone wants to convert those beds for TS4, people are totally free to swipe the textures I made for such conversions. I don’t even own TS4, myself, because I have no interest in it, so I’m afraid that’s not something I’ll ever do.

[lil-meow-aethetics]

hoodie (fionn whitehead imagine)

Fionn hates fans. He’s appreciative of their support and getting him roles, but he isn’t huge in the whole “oh my god it’s time to crowd him going places take a million pictures stalk my shit and steal my shirt” side of the fans. It was ridiculous- why was everyone so insistent on finding out his birthday and sexuality? Apparently they do not understand what “privacy” means.

Thankfully, Fionn has the best girlfriend. Y/N has always been as annoyed with fans as he has, and they both were very private people. After press tours ended, people had started going up to him and Y/N on the street and asking for his autograph and - in short- mobbing him. They usually got separated and soon Y/N was sick of it. She complained about not being able to walk around with Fionn anymore.

That’s when she got him the Hoodie.

The hoodie is a black zip-up that’s three sizes too big for Fionn and surprisingly comfortable. Whenever they went outside, Fionn would shut the hoodie and let Y/N put sunglasses or his glasses on top of it. All their friends and families thought it was hilarious, but it worked. No one was able to recognize him, and Y/N got used to steering him around after running Fionn into a couple things.

After a while, Y/N’s Camera Roll had thousands of photos of her and “Hoodie”- and Fionn faked jealousy whenever she posted it on her Instagram. The first “Hoodie” post was a picture of Fionn pretending to read in the park with his hood on. She captioned it “Sunday in the park with Hoodie” and everyone loved it. Some people started asking who it was, and if Fionn knew. She just sent a 🤷🏻‍♀️. Fionn saw the post after it had been posted for two weeks (typical Fionn) and he commented 😱. All their close friends who knew thought it was hilarious, but a lot of people were still convinced “Hoodie” was a different person.

The hoodie collection grew, now Fionn had at least fifteen so they didn’t have to do laundry as much. Sometimes Y/N would steal a hoodie, even though it was wayyyyyy too big for her.

One day, Y/N put her phone on record and recoded a walk with “Hoodie.” Here is the leaked transcript of hat recording. Thank your local crazy fangirl for it.

“What do you want for lunch?”

“I dunno you can-”

“HOODIE LOOK OUT!”

“WHAT???”

“Just kidding. Ooh new Italian place do you want to try it?”

“Does it have good ratin-”

“Go to your left a bit, there’s some acid on the sidewalk. Stop fiddling with your glasses, they’re going to fall of if you keep doing that.”

“Yeah, sorry. The new hoodie feels weir-”

“Side-step, let go of my hand for a sec and- ooh too late that was a pole.”

“And that was my fault. Shoulda listened Ow.”

“Need an ice pack?”

“No.”

“”

“”

“Okay yeah I think I’m bleeding.”

“Okay. Alright yeah I think you are. Good thing your hoodie is red?”

“[laughs] Ow my nose.”

“Here I’m taking you inside this tiny drug store where no one will recognize you so you can- oh, okay yeah help me find an ice pack -er- nevermind just tilt your head back ‘till I get back with tissues okay? Sit there and-”

“Yea, got it Y/N.”

“Good don’t move. [noise]”

“That’ll be 12 euros.”

“Here go. Thanks! [noise] [fangirls getting louder as walking closer]”

“[muffled and sad] halp Y/N”

“Oooooh who’s Y/N? Your girlfriend?”

“Your mom?”

“Oh mY GOd iT’S HaRry STylES”

“Harry?”

“Where?”

“I’M COMING HARRY MY BABYYYY”

[noise]

“Hey you okay?”

“no. Yeah a little.”

“Here are tissues. Shove them in your face and pull your hoodie back on.”

“Okay that works [noise]. Can I have the ice pack?”

“Shit it’s not cold.”

“We could go to that Italian place and ask for ice.”

“Then we’ll have to eat there, too”

“That works”

“K stand up and take my hand. That’s my boob. Don’t grab that in public.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. That thing slapping your hand away? Grab it. That’s my hand.”

“Oh.”

“Okay. Off to the restaurant?”

“Yeah.”

“You look like you need coffee.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Okay we can order some.”

“Ciao, quanti?”

“Oh boy.”

{Part two starting at 50 likes, publish at 100 🤞🏻}

[yukizus-blog]

11 Questions

Rules:

A. always post the rules. Answer the questions then write 11 new ones. B. Tag 11 people and link them to the post. Tell the person who tagged you that you’ve answered their question.

LISTEN IT’S IMPORTANT

I was tagged once again in some strange tag and you have to know that... I still don’t get many things on Tumblr, so that’s always a struggle for me! Also, I’m not even into K-pop! Thanks... xD Well, I’ll just do the best I can with my K-poopers then!

Also, not sure if I’m doing it correctly, so I’ll answer first 11 questions, which seems like the thing I am supposed to do, a they’re very basic - and then my friend’s questions, instead of the ones that she was asked to answer

1. Who is your ultimate bias?

Ryan Higa - R.O.P

2. Who is your ultimate bias group/idol?

BgA

3. What kpop groups/idols do you stan?

BgA lol, I don’t even follow K-pop groups xD

4. What song is stuck in your head right now?

Right now? Despacito, like in everyone else’s heads xD

5. Pick one: maknae line or hyung line not really a question but who cares

... What. Halp... HALP Q.Q @hiimcaroline

*EDIT so after she helped I can answer

I guess more hyung line? But Ryan is in the maknae, so... Difficult.

6. Where would you like to meet your bias? (at a concert/fan meet/on the street etc.)

Well, I guess accidentally, but then I’d just panic... xD Like, I’ve got so many things to say and I’d be like Jun with BTS - Hi, hello, yeah, bye, hehe.... So maybe fan meet? I’d be more ready... No

7. What is your aesthetic?

Ryan’s smile! That’s just so heartwarming!

8. Which idol would you want to become best friends with?

David Choi - Daeyang - definetelly! For talking etc

For doing stupid shit - P-Dragon - Philip Wang

9. How did you discover kpop? and when?

*K-poop hehe xD Ryan’s channel

But seriously, K-pop - my friends used to love k-pop so I just heard of it. They were torturing me with this, I had some songs that I knew and listened to... But still, not a fan.

10. Would you rather: your ult bias group become really famous and gain a lot of recognition and fans or your ult bias group have few but very loyal fans who form a community together even if the group is not so famous?

Second, I guess. But something in the middle would be awesome and realistic. Of course it’s better to have few but great!

11. Kpop song recommendations?

Kpoop* once again xD

They have only two tho’ xD

Who’s it gonna be and Dong Saya Dae

Questions from @likebreakofdawn

1. In which other fandoms are you? 

Omg... I don’t really have time for them, but I guess anime stuff, currently One Piece fandom is the strongest for me... Also Miraculous Ladybug sorta? And PewDiePIe of course! Also, LilyPichu. I guess these are my current ones, but I’m not really in any fandom now, I mean, stronly in.

2. Who’s your bias wrecker? 

J-Lite - Justin Chon 3. Are they any kpop bands you don’t like? 

I don’t know them, so it’s not like I don’t like any. I’m just not into Kpop 4. Shirtless or pantless bias? i’m sorry i’m not

You’d better be  just... WHat? xDDDD Shirtless, definetely

5. Favourite BTS dance? 

I don’t know many, but I guess Fire one? I know like 3-4, so... Not a big choice xD

6. What would you do if you would meet your bias in the public? 

Panic, hiperventilate, as I never met anyone really famous like.. to talk or anything like that - I’ve been on one concert in my entire life! I don’t know. I’d like to talk, but also I’d love to say everything I want. I also know that they may not care or hear it a lot, which is kinda depressing. So maybe it’s better not to meet them?

7. Which haircolor of your bias is your favourite? 

Definetely not the one from Who’s it gonna be - I like his natural color and the purple-ish he’s having now - not really this one on the photo, but it’s the closest one - like, this color, but after some days it became really pretty - as it washed off sorta!

8. Do you have any kpop albums? 

No.

9. Who’s your bias/favourite person outside kpop?

Like, almost everyone is outside kpop! xD

Pewdiepie, LilyPichu - from youtube and twitch; Imagine Dragons - as a band <33333333333333333333333 Just.... <33333333

10. How do you react when you see your bias new selca? 

@hiimcaroline could you became my translator plz? XD

*EDIT I don’t see it usually, but when I see his new video I’m so happy and it usually makes my day!

11. Any words for your bias?

Keep smiling and doing awesome videos, you’ll be my bias, even if your band is not really real. xD

I won’t tag anyone as everyone’s been tagged already xD And I’m not into kpop

What was that, I don’t even know. I’m confused. Why have I done this? Why was I tagged? Why? Why are we still here? (you know the rest :D )

At the end I’d just post something from twitter, which seems very accurate here and for me!

[ignis-scientia-estrogen-brigade]

~(I’m terrible with titles halp)~ [Pre-Road Trip Fic; 9700 Words]

[ISEB Author’s Note: Well, it’s finally here—the long awaited, highly NSFW fic I’ve been promising my followers for weeks. And it’s long. Like, stupidly long. I compiled all three parts into one for your viewing pleasure; I didn’t mean for the word count to escalate out of control the way it did, but that’s the way the literary ball bounces. In hindsight, I could’ve probably done away with the first two parts, but I suppose every good payoff requires a thoughtful setup. Feel free to skip to the end if you’re just here for the juicy parts!

My apologies to my LGBTQ+ followers—this probably isn’t the fic you were hoping for, but I did try to leave the backdoor (heh) open for future speculation of the strategist’s arguably ambiguous sexuality. For now, I plan on refocusing my attention on the few Asks I still have sitting in my inbox, but I might need to abscond from Tumblr for a little while to catch up on some other projects I’ve put on the back burner. Thank you so much for your endless patience; I hope it was worth the wait!] [ISEB Author’s Note #2: Reminder if you didn’t read the excerpt I posted earlier —> the color blue = blue joke = dirty joke. Happy reading!]

Ridiculously NSFW

“I could go for an Ebony about now.”

Her temper flares and she sees red as she stumbles forward and down onto the crash mat. He had leveraged her own momentum against her to his advantage, parrying her lance deftly using—of all things—a paltry set of daggers.

But even through the unbridled rage that is currently clouding her sight, the redhead notices something… odd. In the two months since she had been promoted to the Citadel’s interior security detail, he had scarcely said a single word to her other than the usual introductions and academic formalities; her associates had warned her about the spectacled man’s habitual aloofness, so to hear him say anything beyond the customary Good morning—much less crack a wry quip at her expense—gives her pause.

She picks herself up off the floor and brushes a lock of auburn hair aside to hide her scowl. “It’s rather unfair for one of us to be switching weapons mid-strike, wouldn’t you say?”

He cycles through the arsenal of armaments he has at his disposal without glancing up. “If you are not content with what the lance has to offer, I’m sure Gladio would be happy to introduce you to the finer points of the broadsword.”

She doesn’t have his ability to summon weapons out of thin air; that privilege is reserved solely for the Kingsglaive, as well as the three individuals appointed as royal Crownsguard to the prince. Witnessing the crystal’s magic in the flesh never quite ceases to amaze her, but attempting to defend against its awesome power has admittedly been trying at times—like now, for instance.

She wrinkles her nose as she hefts her own weapon. “No thank you.”

“Too challenging? I’ll concede that broadswords can be rather unwieldy, but they have their advantages.”

“Hardly,” she scoffs. “Gladiolus would be a much better sparring partner if he could train himself to keep his gaze above my neckline.”

He settles back on the lance and tightens his grip around the handle. “All the more reason to approach him. If you know what his weakness is, you’d be remiss not to exploit it.”

She narrows her eyes as she readies herself against his next assault. “And what, might I ask, is your weakness?”

“I’ll throw you a bone,” he says, tapping the rim of his glasses with a gloved hand. “I can’t see worth a damn.”

She knows not to underestimate him; they don’t call Ignis Scientia The Strategist without good cause. He is deadly in the field of polearms—and daggers, and magic enhancement, and whatever bloody else he keeps up his leopard-print sleeve—even if he does have to rely on a pair of spectacles to correct his dubious vision. It’s the whole reason she sought out his guidance in the first place; she’d been recruited from the lower echelons of palace security thanks to the promise she showed with a spear, and if the rumors swirling around the fitness center’s locker rooms were to be believed, the man could skewer a Dualhorn and a Thunderoc in the same stroke without even breaking a sweat.

“Duly noted,” she replies, and meets his oncoming lunge with a fierce riposte of her own.

She ought not to have even bothered rising from the mat, because she’s back on the floor again in half a heartbeat, and he’s standing above her adjusting his lenses with an infuriatingly blank expression glued to his features. “None the worse for wear,” he chides. “Shall we start again from the top?”

“What for?” she growls, and brushes aside the hand he has extended out to her. “It seems rather pointless to continue when I can’t even succeed at getting my blade past the tip of your nose.”

“Your mistake is treating a pike like it’s a sword. It’s designed to be a piercing weapon, not a slashing device—few people master the art of the lance without first learning how to properly thrust from the shaft.”

She rises to her feet and barks out a frustrated laugh. “If I thought you had an actual sense of humor, I would’ve taken offense to that.”

He dismisses his weapon and turns on his heel. “And if I thought you were capable of recognizing the color blue when you saw it, I would’ve been more subtle.”

His pointed barb leaves her speechless, and she stands frozen with her mouth agape for several moments as she watches him stride toward the edge of the sparring mat. “I suppose you’re the expert on handling shafts,” she finally manages to choke out.

It’s hardly a clever retort; referencing other, more… salacious palace rumors surrounding the strategist in a foolish attempt at getting under his skin is a disservice to her shrewd intellect. But gossip was often rooted in a seed of truth—the man was scarcely seen outside the company of his fellow Crownsguard—and she isn’t quite sure how she stumbled into this infuriating battle of wits to begin with.

Her insinuation has no discernible effect. “Mum’s the word,” he says, as he treads off toward the locker rooms. “Same time tomorrow?”

As she breaths heavily under the weight of her failed efforts, she ponders whether anyone else within the Citadel’s walls had borne witness to his tongue that was even sharper than his daggers.

She comes prepared the next morning; she’s handled a shaft before—forged or otherwise—and she knows now where his vulnerability lies. She thinks she may have been a little overzealous in her frontal assault, so she spent all last night reading up on defensive strategies; her twilight studies in the Citadel’s library have left her more lethargic that she cares to admit, but it’s nothing a stiff cup of Ebony won’t help to rectify before the regularly scheduled slaughter begins in earnest.

But she doesn’t get the chance to indulge in her preferred beverage of choice, because he’s already waiting for her on the sparring mat when she arrives with her lance tucked under one arm. The clink-clink sound of weapons being conjured and reconjured echoes throughout the fitness center’s vaulted ceilings, until he makes his selection—a magic flask, curiously enough—and turns to face her without so much as a proper military salute.

A more undiscerning person might have assumed the Crownsguard also had the ability to warp-strike like the prince, because he crosses the distance between them in less time than it takes for her to blink. But she knows her eyes are not playing tricks on her—she has seen the definition of his tightly-coiled hamstrings rippling beneath his trousers—and raises her lance in an attempt to thwart his lighting-quick charge.

She blames her slow reflexes on the lack of caffeine in her system when she’s half a heartbeat too late; he’s already two steps behind her, the flask in his hand pressed firmly against the small of her back. The burning sensation of raw firepower captured in a bottle instantly sends her careening to the crash mat; her weapon escapes her fingertips and clatters to the ground, and she recoils angrily like a caged Sabertusk as she springs to her feet.

“A polearm is rather sluggish against lightweight consumables,” he comments, “but it was an admirable effort nonetheless.”

She smothers the last of the flames that lick at the hem of her tunic and takes a deep breath to quell her rising pulse. “You’re too generous.”

“On the contrary. Don’t think I didn’t notice your true intentions.”

She hesitates as she moves for her wayward weapon; indeed, her parry had a secondary, more nuanced effect. Because when she went to guard against his superior speed—despite being thrown humiliatingly to the floor—she had been able to roughly gauge the distance between the business end of her lance and the circumference of his reach.

He’s certainly earned the nickname, she thinks, and resumes a defensive posture. “I suppose the error was mine to presume I could pull the wool over your eyes.”

“You won’t need Garula fibers to blind me if you can pry these spectacles off my nose.” He switches weaponry once again, and is now wielding a dagger in each hand. “From the top.”

He’s as fast as his last advance—perhaps faster, if it were even possible—and she has but a nanosecond to groan internally at her own folly before her knees are buckling under his strategically placed backswing. It’s only a small measure of mercy that she managed to maintain a hold of her weapon this time around, and she reestablishes her grip over the shaft as she staggers to her feet.

But the rough estimate she had tabulated earlier is more precise now, and she’s feeling a little more confident in her chances of landing a strike. “Again,” she pants.

Two more times he fells her within moments—once with a halbert, the other with a flask of lightning—and two more times her calculations grow closer to exactness. On his third pass, he opts for a lance identical to hers. “All else being equal,” he quips.

He’s on her again in an instant, but she resists the urge to deflect his blow and instead falls back a step to allow his forward motion to carry him past her. Only then does she tilt her staff to the side nearest his right temple; he jerks his head around without disturbing his momentum and brings his own lance to bear. “Too slow—”

But she isn’t aiming for his forehead like he predicted; she was merely hoping to graze a few tawny hairs above his ear, and his sudden neck twitch positions the hinge of his glasses right up against the tip of her blade. She kicks at the base of her weapon with a booted toe and—using her dominant hand as a fulcrum—catapults his spectacles clean off his face.

Weakness, she grudgingly surmises as her jaw hits the mat with an audible thud, is entirely subjective; even with his sight impaired, he had managed to correct his maneuver and appropriate it into a reverse thrust that had landed squarely between her shoulder blades. This time, she resigns herself to wallowing in pain on the floor for several seconds, until the view of his shoelaces materializes in her burry vision.

“That’s it,” he says, and drops to the ground beside her.

“What’s it?” she mutters sarcastically. “Have you come up with a new recipe?”

It’s only when she pushes herself to her knees and glances over at him that she realizes she has never seen his face without his glasses before. “No,” he chuckles. “Targeting my spectacles—that displayed an impressive amount of ingenuity.”

His cheekbones are more chiseled than she was expecting; she supposes there’s something about wearing the equivalent of two magnifying lenses over one’s eyes that rounds the features a bit. “You knew I was going to try something,” she counters. “Why would you even let me get within twenty feet of you if you had ranged weapons at your disposal?”

“Does the probability of oncoming traffic ever stop anyone from jaywalking?” He helps her to her feet and dismisses his lance. “I took a careless risk. It clearly didn’t pay off quite the way I would’ve liked.”

“Perhaps you and I have contradictory definitions of the word ‘clearly’. I was the one eating the mat stuffing, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I told you, I can’t see worth a damn. Had you been a Voretooth, I very likely would’ve been formally introducing myself to the Draconian by now.”

More sentences strung together in one sitting; more silly quips being dished out in jest. If the redhead wasn’t careful, she might begin to erroneously presume the man had a personality.

“I loath to steal your catchphrase,” she says, as she stretches out the knots he left behind in her shoulders, “but I really could go for an Ebony about now. I missed the window of opportunity to pour myself a cup before you unleashed your scholarly wrath on me.”

“I’m happy to see at least one other person within the entire constituency of Insomnia has an appreciation for the perfect coffee bean.” He retrieves his spectacles from their final resting place and returns them to the bridge of his nose. “Although you’ll have to walk all the way over to the cafeteria, since the fitness center’s lounge only has offerings of watered-down Coeurl excrement.”

She recalls to mind his bare face unencumbered by corrective lenses, wondering what it might look like in a more relaxed setting and not clenched in concentration under his efforts at knocking her senseless. “Care to join me?”

He hesitates as he moves to exit the sparring mat, and for a brief moment appears to ruminate over her offer. “Another time, perhaps,” he says finally. “I still have more fish to fry, and my recipes won’t write themselves.”

TWO-HUNDRED TWENTY-ONE THUNDEROCS HIDE IN RAVATOGH’S DUNES SHELTERED TOWARD RESPECTIVE ELECTRICAL ENTITIES TILL MIDNIGHT

It requires an embarrassing amount of mental gymnastics on her part to decipher the puzzle he leaves on her Citadel-issued cellular later that morning; she somehow knows it’s from him, although how he even acquired her number in the first place was another mystery entirely. When she does finally crack the riddle, however, she fully expects the evening to take a turn toward the peculiar.

Which is ultimately how she finds herself standing outside the address encoded in the message, at the precise time indicated: 221 T.H.I.R.D.S.T.R.E.E.T.—MIDNIGHT. She is hesitant to play along with this silly game of his, but something about the extensive precautions he took to encrypt his message warrants further investigation. She takes a deep breath, smooths down her skirt—Why did I choose a skirt? she wonders—and rings the doorbell to an unassuming apartment located two miles from the Citadel’s walls.

The strategist doesn’t even offer a formal greeting before he is whisking her inside and locking the door behind her. “My apologies,” he says in a low voice. “There’s only a brief window of time before the change of guard is finalized.”

Peculiar, she decides, is a massive understatement; utterly and baffling are the correct adjectives she was looking for. “Change of guard? What in Astrals are you talking about?”

“There are two guard stations situated near the parking lot,” he explains. “They switch off every four hours. It takes them about ten minutes to complete the protocol until they’re back on their respective watches.”

He might as well be speaking in divine tongues, for all she can understand him. “Why are there guards stationed outside your apartment?”

“Because of the crown prince, of course. He lives three doors down.”

Her hand goes to her mouth, and her thoughts suddenly veer toward her career; specifically, she envisions it torpedoing into oblivion if she were to be caught prowling the royal residence under highly suspicious circumstances in the dead of night. “He didn’t see me, did he?”

He snorts softly as he moves into the kitchen. “Highly unlikely. It would take the Archaean himself to pry Noct from his bed after he’s shut down for the evening.”

As fast as the wheels are turning in her mind, she is still unable to make heads or tails of what he is telling her. “Is that why you live so far from the Citadel? Because the prince resides all the way out here?”

He nods from behind a kettle warming on the stovetop. “Truth be told, it would be significantly easier on everyone if he would agree to move back into the palace. But, he understandably cherishes his freedom.”

She finally tears her eyes away from him long enough to take a proper gander around the living room; she isn’t quite sure what she had expected, but the austereness of the space seems to add up to what little she knows about the man. “Are you very close to the prince?”

The clinking of ceramics being retrieved from a cabinet echoes off the sparse walls. “I did his laundry for many years, so I suppose as close as two friends can be—short of scrubbing his back in the bathtub, at least.” She then hears him chuckle. “And before you ask, I only did it the one time. He’d had a nasty encounter with a Cockatrice, and was having trouble reaching behind his shoulders before the petrification wore off.”

The aroma of freshly-brewed coffee circulating in the air works wonders to take the edge off the worst of her bewilderment, and she feigns a gasp. “A personal anecdote, coming from the lips of The Strategist himself? I never thought I’d survive your sparring sessions long enough to see the day.”

He returns to the living room with a cup of Ebony in each hand. “Yes. Well. We all have our more… perturbing secrets.”

“Speaking of secrets,” she says carefully, “are you going to tell me why you summoned me all the way here out of the blue like this?”

He then sets one of the mugs down on a small coffee table in the center of the room, claiming the other for himself as he settles in on a sofa. “It was hardly out of the blue—you asked me this morning if I wanted to join you for coffee, and I deferred your invitation in favor of a later date. Consider this as me cashing in on my rain check.”

She peers through the nearest window and out at the pitch black darkness. “At midnight?”

“There was a guard change at eight, but Noct likely would’ve been sitting out on the front porch playing King’s Knight around then.” He sips nonchalantly at his beverage and raises a spectacled eyebrow. “Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to the other fish bait if they caught wind of me showing even the slightest bit of nepotism to one of my pupils anywhere on palace grounds.”

Come to think of it, she can’t seem to recall ever seeing the strategist in the company of anyone save Prince Noctis and the two other men appointed as his personal retinue; Ignis Scientia regularly advised other members of palace security like herself in the art of warfare, but outside his role as tutor, he could generally be found browsing the morning newspaper and nursing a cup of coffee at a table for one. “Is that what you call your students? Fish bait?”

Another sip; another wayward eyebrow. “I suppose that would be an insult to the food chain.”

The last of her caginess ebbs, and she reaches for the second mug of Ebony as she lowers herself onto the love seat across from him. “How very enlightening. Well then, Ignis—er, may I call you that?”

“Certainly. What else would you call me?”

It had never really occurred to her to view him as anything other than the Citadel’s resident polearm authority, or The Strategist when his drills proved to be particularly grueling. “All right—um—Ignis.” She takes a long sip of her drink and lets the warm liquid pool on her tongue. “While I’m flattered to know you hold me in high enough regard to invite me into your home, I can’t help wondering what was is about me that drew your attention in the first place.”

He studies her for a moment, then adjusts his spectacles as he crosses one knee over the other. “It was your accent. You’re from the north, correct?”

“I am.”

“As am I. Hearing your voice takes me back to my childhood.” He drains the last of his Ebony and sets his empty mug aside. “The king was also reared there, although Noct was born in Crown City, which is why he talks like an uncivilized barbarian.”

She smiles at his quip, but the uncharacteristic openness of his demeanor perplexes her more than a little. “I must admit, it’s a bit unusual to hear you speak so candidly. At the risk of stroking your ego, I’m happy to report that the rumors about you being one-dimensional are quite unfounded.”

A tart expression touches his features. “My pride is positively basking in your adulation.“

“Sorry,” she laughs. “It’s just that your stuffiness inside the Citadel has a tendency to ward off more curious observers.”

“Is that what my pupils say about me? That I’m stuffy?”

“Only when you refer to them as fish bait.”

“All’s fair in the great battle between teacher and student.” He draws himself up off the couch and retrieves his empty mug, then stops beside her and gestures to her own. “Would you like a refill?”

She shakes her head. “Thank you, no. I fear even the one cup will result in keeping me awake for hours.”

His fingers brush against hers when she lifts her mug toward his outstretched hand; the way they linger there a moment longer than would normally be considered polite makes her heart skip an odd beat.

He appears not to have noticed her sudden diffidence. “I’ve found that sleep is highly overrated,” he says, as he moves back into the kitchen. “My friends find it endlessly amusing to chastise me for my Ebony habit, but you’d be astounded at how much free time one is able to accrue without the pesky requirement of regularly scheduled unconsciousness.”

She rises from the love seat as the sound of water splashes in the sink. “What does a man like yourself do with his personal time? Do you have a secret stamp collection I don’t know about, or is your bedroom as empty as your foyer?”

He shuts off the tap and returns to the living room. “Care for a tour of it?”

“Rather forward, aren’t we? You haven’t even given me a proper kiss yet.” She then offers him a wry grin. “Or am I too feminine for your tastes?”

She recognizes the audacity of her joke almost as soon as the words tumble out of her mouth; asinine banter during a sparring session was one thing, but alluding to his rumored personal preferences in the intimacy of his own home—a space she had been invited into in confidence, no less—was a line she had never intended to let herself cross. He closes the distance between them and touches a hand to her elbow, and she averts his gaze in anticipation of his ire.

But Ignis surprises her, because instead of promptly escorting her to the front door like she expects, he brushes his lips across her left cheek. “Not at all,” he says quietly. “My tastes are admittedly rather eclectic.”

It’s neither a confirmation nor a denial; knowing what she knew about Ignis Scientia, the redhead would likely never uncover the honest truth behind his veiled sexuality. But it doesn’t matter now, because the gentle pressure of his fingers tightening around her arm is causing her face to grow inexplicably warm, and she is suddenly viewing the strategist in a whole new light.

She finally forces herself to look up at him; his expression is one of friendliness, his magnified irises slightly softer than before. “Good to know.”

He then drops his hand from her elbow and strides across the living room toward a door on the far side of the apartment. When he holds it open for her, she tentatively follows him and tiptoes inside; it’s only after she’s taken a moment to glance around the tidy space—and is relieved to find herself in neither a stamp collector’s workshop nor a sadomasochist’s flagellation chamber, but a completely ordinary bedroom—that she allows herself to let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“The decor is inarguably drab,” he concedes as he stops beside her. “I don’t have quite the same eye for design as Prompto.”

She points to the singular personal artifact embellishing the otherwise stark walls—a set of gilded daggers crossed at the hilt, and mounted on a wooden plaque. “I’m surprised you don’t keep those locked away in whatever alternate dimension you store your other armaments.”

“A birthday present—Regis gifted them to me when I turned eighteen.” He moves to rub at a speck of dust on one of the blades with his shirt sleeve. “They couldn’t cut so much as a strand of candy floss, but at least they’re pretty to look at.”

Her inquisitiveness overrides any reservations she has about being in such close quarters with her superior, and she strolls past an ornate dresser before pausing at a framed picture perched on the end of it. As she peers down at the four adolescent faces that fill the image, she immediately recognizes the bespectacled youth hovering near the edge of the shot. “Look at your bangs!” she laughs, gesturing to the mop of brown fluff that envelopes his forehead in the photograph.  “What kind of friends would ever allow you to pass through the front gates of the Citadel with that kind of haircut?”

His cheek twitches in mild annoyance. “It’s rude to stare.”

Her lips spread apart into an earnest smile. “You have nothing to worry about. If I may be so bold, you’ve aged quite gracefully into your present form.”

He sniffs irritably, but the twinge of humor that laces his features is unmissable. “Your flattery is noted.”

She then glances back down at the image on the dresser. She knows all their faces; it’s part of her job, understanding who she serves under, and who she is assigned to protect. Gladiolus Amicitia, back before his mane grew wild and his skin was unblemished by either scars or tattoos; Prompto Argentum, a little on the plump side but no less endearing; and, of course, Noctis Lucis Caelem, whom she had seen brooding around the palace grounds on occasion but had never formally met.

She picks up the photograph and presses a finger to the prince’s visage. “I should like to ask for his autograph one day,” she teases. “Perhaps you could put in a good word for me?”

Ignis pushes at his spectacles to mask a grimace. “His head would never fit inside the Regalia again if I did.”

Her eyes narrow at him as she returns the picture to its proper place atop the dresser. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the sentimental type,” she says. “As a matter of fact, before tonight I might not have been persuaded to believe you weren’t actually a robot.”

“I find emotions to be more of a hindrance than an asset. Compartmentalizing things helps to keep a level head.”

“Is that why you’re so aloof around the Citadel?” She returns to his side and pinches gently at his shirt sleeve. “Are you even capable of feelings, or are the rumors about electronic circuitry running under your skin in place of joints true?”

“Of course I’m capable of feelings. I wouldn’t have a photograph of my closest companions displayed at my bedside if I were a heartless magitek soldier.”

The way his eyes harden behind the steely gaze he is leveling at her makes her heart pound, but she doesn’t let go; instead, she swallows her uneasiness and grips his taut bicep more firmly in her grasp. “Then why don’t you ever talk about yourself, Ignis? I’ve studied under you for months now, and I still don’t know a thing about you.”

A pause. “What would you like to know?”

“I suppose inquiring as to why you felt the need to enshroud your message in such secrecy is as good a place as any to start.”

His emerald irises linger on the hand she has clutched around his arm, but he doesn’t pull away. “I have a propensity for keeping the details of my personal life as private and confidential as possible. Surely that’s something you yourself can relate to.”

His observation is not unfounded; whispers surrounding her own proclivity for maintaining a cordial distance from her peers—and persistent male suitors—had circled back to her own ears, and she’d been content to allow them to perpetuate purely out of self-interest. “You and I have differing circumstances,” she says. “My job is not nearly as secure as yours.”

“Perhaps, but the reasons are the same. Maintaining an air of professionalism requires considerable precautions to be taken.”

She purses her lips for a long moment. “May I ask you a question?”

“Certainly.”

“I was wondering if you’ve ever been married before.”

“Other than to my service to the crown? Not as of yet.”

“But you’ve involved yourself with other parties, correct?” Her mouth twists into a knowing grin. “The palace rumors don’t exactly paint you in a particularly… virtuous light.”

“I’ll have to double down on those pesky palace rumors.” He snorts softly and presses a finger to his spectacles. “There is record of intimate liaisons in my personal history, to be sure. I’m just a man, after all.”

Her fingers are still wrapped around his bicep; her mind urges her hand to release him from her grasp, but her heart has other plans for her wayward extremities, and she runs an open palm up his shoulder. “Did you really invite me to your apartment just to chat over a cup of Ebony?”

Her attempt at subtly is fruitless; he finally yields under her touch and pries her fingers away from his arm. “I didn’t have any ulterior movies behind my summons, if that’s what you’re implying.”

The blood in her veins turns to ice in an instant—perhaps the frozen corpse of Shiva has reanimated herself in ethereal form somewhere in the strategist’s coat closet—and she drops her hand to her side. “Forgive me,” she says quickly, burying her attention in the folds of her skirt to hide her embarrassment. “It was presumptuous of me to read into your hospitality like that.”

She isn’t looking at him; she can barely endure her own humiliation at having her advances unceremoniously spurned by the strategist, much less meet the judgment of his spectacled gaze. But she can see his feet shift toward her, and suddenly she feels the heat of his warm breath circulating against her forehead.

“Only because it would tarnish my reputation as a consummate professional,” he says quietly.

They stand in silence for what feels like an eternity; he doesn’t move to touch her, and she doesn’t glance up at him or dare to even breathe. “I suppose that would probably complicate matters a bit,” she whispers.

His light exhales against her skin only serve to amplify the burning of her ears. “Probably.”

“I recognize it’s rather unbecoming of me to ask you to put your respectability on the line in that way.”

“I’ve taken greater risks.”

She then swallows her reticence and meets his gaze with an uncertain one of her own. “Would you even want to pursue something? I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit to being slightly awkward about my intentions, and you’re a challenging person to read.”

His eyes convey a certain measure of restraint; he glances over at the fingers he is now tracing along the lines of her arm, until they reach the crook of her neck and brush back a lock of red hair behind her ear. Her spine tingles under his gentle probing, her heart beating furiously like a herd of Spiracorns stampeding inside her chest, and her breath catches in her throat when he closes the distance between his lips and hers.

It’s a chaste kiss; nothing excessively overt or sloppy, and it’s over almost as soon as it has begun. The eyelids she hadn’t even realized she’d closed flutter open, and she tracks his motions with inquisitive orbs as he moves to stand behind her. Her own feet are rooted in place, seemingly anchored to the hardwood floor by some invisible titan of the underworld—the Infernian, she presumes, if the heat pumping through her veins is any indication—and for a moment she fears her knees may give out entirely when he nuzzles his nose against the tender spot under her right earlobe.

She then feels a hand glide down her forearm and ensnare her palm. “Apologies for my ambiguity,” he says. “Hopefully I’ve managed to clarify things for you.”

Her small fingers tighten around his longer ones. “Quite.”

His other hand drifts to the base of her neck, brushing her fiery tresses aside and probing at the trio of buttons that fasten her blouse. Gooseflesh ripples through her skin when he teases the closures loose; she is sure his fingers must be losing circulation by now—she has them involuntarily locked in a vice grip—until he releases her digits and moves to press his hand to her abdomen. His chest is up against her back; she can feel the taut musculature of his physique through the thin fabric of her tunic and his slow, deliberate breaths warming her cheek.

The stillness of the strategist’s bedroom is in sharp contrast to fire roaring in her belly; he tugs on her sleeve and drags his lips across her bare shoulder, no more or less urgent than before. Her hands search desperately for something to hold onto, and she clutches at the pockets of his trousers; her eyelids then seal themselves shut when she feels the distinct sensation of his arousal hardening against the small of her back.

After a silent gasp escapes her lips as he rakes his teeth along her earlobe, and she can barely keep herself upright under his electrifying touch, she finally turns to face him. His lips tentatively meet hers, gently at first, then more insistent as she sifts her fingers through his hair. He tastes like Ebony and desire and all the things that make men of his astute intellect so delightfully tantalizing, and she can’t quite stop herself from nipping playfully at his tongue as she drinks in his flavor entirely. His strong hands are everywhere at once, tracing her jawline, running down her spine, slipping beneath the hem of her tunic, until he liberates her from the billowy fabric obstructing her upper body and discards it somewhere in the direction of the dresser.

She is already fumbling with the closures of his own shirt, her fingers trembling like a new Anak calf taking its first clumsy steps. When she can’t get the third button undone, he captures her hands in his own and lowers them. “Perhaps the Ebony I brewed was a bit over-caffeinated?”

“Sorry,” she laughs. “By the looks of it, you’d think I was a newly deflowered virgin.”

He finishes the task of unbuttoning his shirt and offers her a smirk. “Are you?”

She returns his quip with a grin of her own. “I suppose you’ll just have to determine that for yourself.”

He finally strips himself of the stubborn article and drops it to the floor; it’s only when she lays eyes on his bare chest that she realizes how toned his body truly is, befitting a trained gymnast of his caliber. Her hand immediately reaches for his chiseled curvatures, gliding over the sculpted muscles of his torso until her fingers eventually drift south and stop at the top of his trousers.

“I wonder,” she teases, as she coaxes the zipper loose, “just how many of your pupils have seen you in your birthday attire.”

“A mystery for the ages,” he demurs, and deflects her hand in favor of tackling the clasp of her undergarment.

In a maneuver he had clearly mastered countless times before, he frees her of her lingerie in mere seconds, and it’s her turn now to field his gaze. She shifts uncomfortably under his probing eyes for a brief moment, but her shame evaporates when he draws her to his chest and captures her cheeks in his strong hands. His kiss is less restrained than earlier, his ardor more insistent as he lowers his nimble fingers to clutch at her breasts; his lips eventually follow suit, and she grits her teeth in an attempt to thwart the moan bubbling out of her throat when she feels the warm sensation of his tongue encircling her nipple.

As much as she relishes in his expert touch, however, she doesn’t let him get very far; he was the one who invited her here, she surmises, so it’s only fair of her to do some of the legwork. She pushes him away and guides him to sit on the edge of the bed, then gestures for him to remove his shoes before he allows her to tug on the hem his pants.

“You’re certainly more ambitious than the other virgins I’ve deflowered,” he jests.

“You of all people should realize I’m a quick learner.” She kneels before him and traces her fingers under the elastic waistband of his tight boxer briefs. “The spectacles I pried off your face this morning certainly haven’t forgotten.”

She then grips at his smallclothes and releases him from the confining accoutrement; she’s been in enough intimate positions to know not to ogle directly at any bare skin for too long, but she can’t resist running a hand across the rigid flesh centered amidst his thighs. When he doesn’t immediately flinch under her touch, she shoulders his knees aside and positions herself more closely between them.

But then he does stop her, clutching at her red hair and gently pulling her away from her intended target; in a moment of hesitation that was rather unusual for him, his voice falters. “That’s… really not necessary.”

She briefly considers responding to his reticence with a cheeky quip; ultimately, she decides actions speak louder than any words her occluded mind could conceivably think up, and pushes onward to draw him fully into her mouth. He doesn’t let out so much as a silent groan, or thrust himself annoyingly against the back of her throat like every other paramour she’s erroneously entertained; she is, however, intimately aware of the sound of his breath shortening in his lungs. His fingers are still wrapped up in her hair, but instead of holding her back, they now twitch lightly with each caress of her tongue.

He’s bigger than she would’ve given a man of Ignis’ slender build credit for, but size has scarcely ever factored into her own gratification, and anticipating satisfaction on a first go around with a new partner is a lofty expectation besides. So she simply enjoys this private moment he’s offered to share with her, gripping his athletic thigh in one hand and supplementing her tongue strokes with the other. He allows his fingers wander down her neck and across her shoulders, taking great care never to buck his hips or choke her senseless with his rock-solid erection, until the firm pressure of his hands pushing her away from his equipment causes her to stop what she’s doing and peer questioningly up at him.

“It might be best if we switched places,” he breathes, as he draws her to her feet. “Wouldn’t want this night to end rather abruptly on my behalf.”

She gives him a teasing look, but lowers herself onto the bed and stretches out on top of the comforter. He seats himself on the edge beside her, running his fingers along her collarbone and breasts on his way down her abdomen, and then leans over to touch his lips to hers. His kiss is chaste once again, his hunger from before evidently having abated; she traces the outline of his jaw as the scent of his cologne swirls in her nostrils, until her hands get tangled up in the rim of his spectacles.

“Shall I take your glasses off for you?” she chides, as she watches him readjusts them. “Or are they a necessary part of bringing yourself to orgasm?”

“Not quite, but they may factor into your own enjoyment.” He then positions himself between the pleats of her skirt and focuses his attention on the zipper at her waist. “I certainly can’t manipulate what I can’t see.”

His hands move quickly, and soon he is tugging her garment down around her hips before casting it aside entirely. His face hovers near her belly and he fingers the black lace that encircles her thighs; the heat in her lower abdomen matches the warmth of his breath on her skin, and he finally removes the last barrier separating one another from sensual bliss.

But he doesn’t immediately plunge his spectacles into her nakedness like she is hoping, and instead tilts his face slightly to tickle the insides of her thighs with his cheek. She gnaws on her lip in displeasure at not having her earlier services reciprocated; when he continues to tease every inch of her skin with gentle nips—save for the one spot she desperately wants him to ravage—she arches herself up against his mouth to make her insistence known.

“Do try and be patient, Darling,” he murmurs. “Trust that I have a strategy in mind.“

She bites back a frustrated growl, and resorts to gripping the blanket beneath her to curb her annoyance. His mouth wanders back and forth between her legs and the surrounding area—always circling toward her arousal, but never quite indulging her in desire—until he places a single light kiss against her aching nub before moving disappointingly away from her nether region to nuzzle her ear.

She opens her mouth to enlighten him on his grievous oversight, but the abrupt sensation of his long fingers pressing themselves inside her walls silences any intelligible argument she might’ve had. He lowers himself beside her, covering her slightly parted lips with his own and delving ever deeper into the folds of her warm flesh with a skillful hand. She releases her grip over the comforter and snakes her arms around his neck, drawing him closer than any mechanized gravity well could accomplish while simultaneously rocking her hips against his methodical touch.

An inkling of shame trickles down her spine when she feels her own wetness touch the insides of her thighs, but he doesn’t appear to mind; on the contrary, he uses her natural lubrication to his advantage, massaging her with a slick thumb as he drags his teeth along her collarbone. The pressure in her abdomen is building now, her body stiffening against his rhythmic probing—not too roughly, nor too gently, but just enough to encourage the momentum of her arousal ever onward—and even with her eyes closed, she can almost visualize the culmination of her ecstasy nearly within reach.

But a whimper escapes her when his hand disappears from between her thighs, and she glances up to see him parting her legs before nestling his narrow hips between them. The taste of bitterness floods her tongue—she was this close—and she turns her head aside to hide her disappointment.

It’s only after he rests his hands on either side of her shoulders that he peers down at her with a concerned look on his face. “Something wrong?”

He wouldn’t be the first lover to leave her unfulfilled; it was foolish of her to expect this strategy of his to bear any real fruit. Still, she heaves a sigh and pokes disinterestedly at the pillow beneath her head, her eyes suddenly absorbed in the details of the fabric. “Not at all.”

She isn’t looking at him when he grazes his lips against her ear, but she can feel the heaviness of his breath on her skin. “I asked you to trust me,” he whispers. “I won’t ask a second time.”

He says it not unkindly, but the seriousness in his voice causes her pulse to suddenly quicken; she has but a moment to see him toss his spectacles aside before lacing one hand through her fingers and guiding himself inside of her with the other.

There is clarity, she surmises, at the eye of every storm; even with her mind a chaotic jumble of longing and desire and frustration at the rapture he is withholding from her, she is able to lift the veil that clouds her thoughts and focus on the singular divine sensation of being penetrated by him. He’s as hot as forged iron and twice as hard, and only a man christened after fire incarnate could have scorched every fiber and cell of her being merely by bringing his weapon to bear.

Her green orbs widen as she clutches at his fingers, and she says his name; he has both of his hands wrapped around hers now, and he covers her lips with his own. But a kiss isn’t enough to silence her gasps, nor does pinning her wrists down stop her legs from slithering around his waist involuntarily, and it’s only when she has his slender hips captured in a vice grip between her thighs that he presses a palm gently to her forehead to ease her sudden trembling.

“Be still just a moment longer,” he says. “I’ll do my best to make it worth your while.”

She gives him an imperceptible nod, but she can’t even see him clearly, because his searing heat inside of her is causing the edges of her vision to blur. He reaches down to pry away the Malboro tentacles seemingly suctioned to his body, then slips a hand around the small of her back to angle her hips up toward his own; she resists the urge to question his logic or writhe beneath him without his consent, and instead allows him to shift his weight forward onto his forearms until he is positioned directly above her and the base of his shaft is wedged firmly against the most private and intimate part of herself.

This is not, she realizes as he begins to move, two idiots fumbling around like awkward Adamantoises in the throes of carnal passion; it’s a master study in Euclidean geometry, because of course it is, because Ignis Scientia has a strategy prepared for every facet of his existence, even in his approach to tasks as instinctual and intuitive as making love. He’s as precise with his flesh-and-blood lance as he is with a real one, and her fingers dig into the taut muscles of his back as her nub pulses furiously with each slow drive of his hips. She can’t bring herself to say anything, because her throat has tightened and she is physically incapable of expressing her ardor without sounding like a lumbering Garula in heat, so she lets the arching of her back and her own dripping fluids acknowledge the magic he is working inside of her.

His hands don’t stay at her waist for long; they are gripping her thighs, caressing her breasts, gliding over her shoulders and brushing aside a stray lock of red hair from her glistening temple. His lips don’t linger in any one place either, and instead nibble at her collarbone and neck while his movements inside her grow more deliberate, more precise, more methodical in their unwavering effort at bringing her to climax. Her aching nub is throbbing in agony now, his shaft just grazing the sensitive hood with his rhythmic strokes, applying concentrated pressure only long enough for her to relish in a brief instant of gratification before he’s backed off and left her desperate for more.

Any last vestiges of shame she felt at conveying her fervor evaporate, and she finally stops trying to conceal her moans from him; if anything, her newfound voice only serves to urge him onward, and her thighs return to his waist as she feels the pressure in her abdomen reach its tipping point. His forehead is pressed against her head now, his mouth covering hers in between each disciplined thrust, and she bites down hard on the thickest part of his shoulder when the first crest of her orgasm rips through her and tears her nearly in two.

He helps carry her through each subsequent wave, sustaining his movements until the convulsions that rack her body begin to abate. When her tremors eventually cease altogether, and her cries of ecstasy have run their course, he leans down and kisses her lightly on the lips; it’s only after she touches a hand to his cheek that she notices the light sheen of perspiration coating his brow, and she immediately realizes the monumental effort it must have taken him to restrain himself long enough to push her over the brink.

“You’re a man of your word,” she says, as she studies the planes of his bare face. “I ought to have known better than to underestimate a strategist.“

He snorts softly before pushing himself upright; after a moment, he moves to withdraw himself from her. But her thighs remain firmly wrapped around his waist, and he is unable make it farther than half an inch before she begins to pull him back toward her. “We can stop for the night,” he says. “I’ve already kept you out late as it is.”

“I’m not letting you get off that easily.“

“Getting me off isn’t the hard part.” He pats her legs as he tosses her a wink, but she refuses to relinquish him from her grip. “Really, Darling—it’s fine.”

“And if I insist?”

He hesitates; after several heartbeats, he gently pries himself from her clutches. She grudgingly releases him, wondering if she had turned him off somehow—it was hard to tell, when his obvious erection was still at full attention—until he gestures for her to kneel facedown on the bed. “May I?”

For a brief moment, she considers denying his request; a submissive position was far from her favorite, and she’d spent many an evening staring at the length of her fingernails and pondering whether she’d left the stove on at home while some faceless paramour went to town on her backside. But she had already underestimated Ignis once tonight—and his inquiry was hardly unreasonable in light of his own generosity, besides—so she rolls over onto the comforter and tentatively props herself on all fours.

She can feel the bed shift behind her, and soon his hand is gliding down her spine; a shiver races through her as he traces the outline of her left buttock before stopping between her legs. He drags his mouth across her hips, pressing a finger inside of her to test her readiness, and she gnaws on the inside of her cheek to stop her cries from potentially disturbing the neighbors—or worse, the crown prince three doors down—all over again.

He then leans to rest his weight on the palm of one hand, his right arm parallel with hers; she can feel his warm chest against her back and his probing growing more insistent. “Is this all right?” he asks.

She responds not with words, but by lacing her fingers through his own; he withdraws the hand he has between her thighs, evidently content with his findings—how she is still soaking wet is entirely beyond her—and replaces his digits with the head of his shaft. A sharp hiss escapes her lungs as he eases more fully into her warmth, until the two have become one again and the mass of his body envelops her like a protective blanket.

For the first time tonight, she hears him utter a low growl; it’s scarcely audible over the creaking of the headboard, and had she been a less perceptive lover, she might’ve dismissed it as simply the sound of his apartment settling in on its foundation. But when she leans into him and clenches her pelvis muscles, he drops his head to her shoulder and lets out a gasp.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “Just… give me a moment, if you would.”

The fact that he expresses remorse mid-coitus doesn’t exactly surprise her—this was Ignis Scientia she was dealing with, after all—but it’s how he says it that gives her pause. Because, in a way that was very unlike him, he had dropped the more formal My apologies he generally favored in day-to-day Citadel life, and his sudden loss of control in the heat of the moment is rather telling in her mind. She tightens her fingers around his own and tilts her face to his cheek; he responds by pressing his lips to her temple, and then pushes himself upright and takes a firm hold over her hips with both hands.

It’s only when he has regained his composure and resumes the slow and steady cadence of his thrusts that she realizes how intimate the position she is in can truly be. He isn’t yanking on her hair, or shoving her face annoyingly into a pillow; his draws his fingers down her spine instead, stopping occasionally to grip at her buttocks or reach underneath her to massage her breasts. A cry claws its way up her throat as he buries himself ever deeper inside of her walls, and she tilts her head down onto the comforter to stifle her moans; his chest is pressed against her back again, his arms braced against either side of her shoulders, and she can hear the sound of his breath growing ragged in her ears.

The mutual rhythm they find together is almost second nature, as innate and automatic as breathing; their bodies were made for each other, she decides, because her hips are at just the right angle to support his increasingly erratic movements, and his lanky torso is just long enough for his cheek to touch hers. She lifts a hand to caress his jaw, and soon he is kissing her neck, her ear, her lips; his trembling hands search for something to hold onto, until they find her outstretched fingers and entwine them in his own.

He is quiet when he climaxes; the only indication that anything in his behavior has changed is the staggered jerks of his pelvis and the teeth he has clenched around her shoulder. His fingers tighten and relax with each warm pulse flooding through her lower abdomen, until the light pressure of his chest against her back abruptly doubles in weight.

The pinching in her shoulder then softens, and he presses a tender kiss to the love bite he left behind before pushing himself upright and withdrawing from her. Her arms and legs suddenly turn to rubber beneath her, and she collapses onto the comforter in delirious heap. He doesn’t move to rest beside her like she expects, though; out of the corner of her swimming vision, she sees him stride across the bedroom and throw open a nearby window. As the cool night air nips at her bare skin, she surmises that a man who was the embodiment of fire needed some way to quell the inferno coursing through his veins.

She watches as he stretches out his long limbs, entirely unconcerned that his naked backside is on full display for her viewing pleasure. When the chill gets to be too much even for her, she peels back the comforter and slips between the sheets; he retrieves his spectacles and returns them to the bridge of his nose, and she can sense the aloofness that has come to define Ignis settle back in on his features. “I suppose you were right about the Ebony,” he says.

She frowns slightly at his cordialness, and lifts the blanket to hide her shame. “I suppose so.”

“At the risk of sounding like I’m trapping you here against your will, the next change of guard isn’t for another few hours. It might be best if you linger until then.”

“Of course.” She then bites her lip and hesitates. “Um, Ignis?”

He plucks his boxer briefs from off the floor and seats himself on the edge of the bed. “Yes, Darling?”

“I presume you’re not really one for pillow talk, but perhaps it might be worth it to discuss some things.“

“All right.”

“I’m… not entirely sure how we ought to conduct ourselves moving forward. At the Citadel, I mean.”

She eyes him as he stuffs himself inside his smallclothes. “I see no reason not to carry on as we have been, provided you’re willing to maintain a professional rapport. If you ever find yourself in the mood for more intimate company, you know where I live.“

“Is that an open invitation?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be.”

Her heart skips, and she can’t quite conceal the small smile that touches her lips. “Well then, it might be pertinent to lay down some ground rules.”

“To be sure.” He draws himself up off the bed and turns to face her. “What did you have in mind?”

“Are the hours disagreeable to you?”

“Not at all. I’m up late as it is.” He reaches for his trousers and steps into the legs. “Although you’re welcome to stay until the eight o’clock guard change, if you don’t care for stealing away like a thief in the night. Noct’s never up before eleven, anyway.“

“Best not to take any unnecessary risks. Four o’clock is fine.”

“Anything else?”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t get into the habit of calling me ‘Darling’. Pet names are generally reserved for more… loving relationships, wouldn’t you say?”

He peers at her through his spectacles and shrugs on his shirt. “Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“Is there anything you care to add?”

“Nothing I can think of.” He moves to stand beside her as he tackles his buttons. “So we are in agreement?”

She nods. “Yes, I suppose we are.”

“Splendid.” He then leans over and pecks her lightly on the cheek. “Can I get you anything? A cup of Ebony, perhaps?”

She runs a hand down his torso, offering him a mischievous grin as her fingers pause at the waistband of his trousers. “Not unless you plan on entertaining me for the next few hours.”

He hesitates for a long moment; then he is unbuttoning his shirt once again and discarding it on the floor. “I think we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

[superworldunkown]

IT’s a date! (x3) Part 2 - I am here...for your date: Midoriya

AN: OMG remember when I said I’d have this posted in a few days almost three weeks ago? Do you ever have moments when you’re like, “Yes I have time to do this.” and the universe is like “....The F*** you do.” Well, anyways here we are, Midoriya takes Y/N on their first date. (should also note here Y/N can be whomever you want but my inspiration is my typical Melanin Queen <3) 

Also, how do you taglist ppl on this thing? Sorry, I’ll learn, halp a old, broken, millennial queen? ​

Link to Part 1 HERE 

Midoriya, the ever calm, ever sweet little bean of Class 1-A sat eagerly in your hospital room, admiring the work he had done while you were in physical therapy. He hoped you’d like it. He understood that underneath all of the streamers and hero décor it was still as stuffy hospital room, but he had made a promise to you and damnit (dare he say it), you were going to have nothing but a good time.

It was Monday. Midoriya’s time to shine. 

Taking a step out of your room and sliding the door closed to not ruin the surprise he sat in one of the gray chairs in the hospital hallway, his mind wandering back to how he, Todoroki, and Bakugou ironed out the details to this unique event...

Several Days earlier

“L/N made it out of surgery as expected.” The doctor began only to be cut off by the rather battered group of soon-to-be heroes that stood eagerly outside of the surgical unit. 

“Y/N....did they...did they die?” 

“He said as expected you moron!” Bakugou’s brash voice cut through the air, causing Midoriya to bristle and Todoroki to sink in his chair with slight embarrassment.

THe doctor cleared his throat slightly before continuing, “Yes Young Shoto, the surgery went well and we were able to stabilize their injuries'. It will be a difficult road to recovery, but seeing as they’re in the care of our hospital staff, and you three, I think they’ll be just fine.” 

All three of them began to light up at the cheeks before turning away to some object other than the unsuspecting doctor. Midoriya, the tile floor, Todoroki, a lamp, Bakugou, he was practically burning holes through the ceiling. 

Midoriya was first to speak, “The date! We promised Y/N dates!” 

“But they’re in the hospital for the next several weeks at least.” Todoroki added, “I don’t think they will let them leave.” 

“We’ll plan them here!” The green haired boy smiled, “It will be fun!” 

The three of them spent the next hour ironing out the details. And by ironing out the details it meant heavy arguing, Todoroki’s deadpan replies, Bakugou’s screaming, and Midoriya using several pages of paper to write and rewrite the arrangements. 

“Okay I think we got it!” The scribe let out a heavy sigh, staring at the piece of paper, “I’ll take Y/N on Monday, Todoroki, you have Wednesday, and Kacchan will finish on Friday...so strange Kacchan usually you’d like to go first in everything.” 

“That’s because Bakugou likes Y/N.” Todoroki said without blinking an eye.

“WHAT! Take that back you IcyHot bastard you don't know squat!” 

“Oh I guess that does make sense.” Midoriya nodded, “That way you can see what we’re planning and have something to top them all. That’s so sweet Kacchan-”

“Don’t agree with him Deku!” 

“You two would make an odd couple.” Todorki chimed in, ignoring the heated blond,  “But maybe having a girlfriend would calm you down a bit.” 

“I’LL KILL YOU BOTH!”

Present

“Oh hey Midoriya.” Your voice caught the student by alarm, shaking him out of his trip down a rather loud and painful memory lane.

“Oh, Hey Y/N - wait! Dont open that yet!” He jumped to his feet, scrambling over to the door.

You narrowed your eyes, rotating the wheels of your wheelchair in an attempt to nudge the boy out of your way. 

“Give me one second! Just have to-finish up one last thing!” Midoriya quickly slipped through your hospital room door, leaving you bursting with both irritation and anticipation. After a few moments he finally slid the door open, “Okay its ready!” 

“Better be.” You huffed while wheeling yourself forward, “I had a long as day and I’m-”

Before you could finish your words your mouth hung open, taking in your once bland hospital room, now adorned in purple, white, and yellow decor. 

“I hope you like it.” The student asked while smiling and scratching the back of his head, “I know Mirko is your favorite hero, after all.” 

Everything in your room was Mirko themed, your bedsheets had a Mirko themed blanked strewn across it, purple streamers hung from the ceiling, there was even a basket of fresh carrots at your bedside. Midoriya knew how to impress when it came to heroes. 

“Oh, and this is for you!” Before you could protest, he slipped a pair of signature Mirko ears over your head, causing you to laugh as you glanced at your reflection through your window. 

“Midoriya, this is too much, really?” 

His smile grew even brighter; you couldn’t believe that people could smile that big, “We’re just getting started!” 

He helped you into your hospital bed before placing a bento box filled with sticky rice cut in the shape of mini rabbits while you two settled into the ‘Ultimate Rabbit Hero montage’, which basically was a bootleg movie Midorya put together of all of Mirko’s interviews, fight scenes, and press conferences. After that, Midoriya even went a step further with dessert,

Carrot Cake. Because he’s Midoriya, and you don’t deserve a friend like MIdoriya. 

“I don't know how anyone will top this. This is very sweet Izuku.” You spoke while setting your plate at your nightstand. Midorya sat beside you in a chair, also finishing up the dessert. 

“Please don’t tell Kacchan that.” Midoriya looked your way, half joking, but also half serious. Honestly, the poor boy had enough praise in relation to Bakugou that’s caused way to many fights between the two of them. 

“Well. Both he and Todoroki have quite the standard to live up to. You gonna tell me what they’re planning?” You asked while leaning forward, hoping you could get something out of the sweet boy next to you.

“They didn’t tell me anything, I swear.” He smiled while holding his hands up defensively, “But knowing them I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” 

Seeing the truth behind his words smirked, “Well, we’ll see. But seriously, this was beyond wonderful. Thank you Midoriya.”  Your hand reached out to give him a gentle pinch at his freckled cheeks. 

“It’s not nearly enough Y/N. You saved our lives back there. I just feel bad that you got so hurt. If only’ I’d been there sooner I’d-Ouch!” He winced slightly as the hold on his cheeks tightened in your grasp,

“Don’t worry about me okay. I’ll be fine. The doctor actually said I was making quite the progress for someone who should have died.” 

Midoriya turned your way, smiling that heroic smile, “That’s amazing Y/N. No wonder why you like Mirko so much, you’re just like her! You always bounce back even after the toughest injuries.”  

 You laughed softly, “I thought you were going to say I’m like her because of my foul attitude.” 

“Well...that too I guess.” 

AN: Okay ya’ll thats it. Join me next time, (hopefully sooner than last) for Part 3 with Todoroki (and a sprinkle of Bakugou). 

[ah17hh]

Am I a lesbian? Send halp. via /r/polyamory

Am I a lesbian? Send halp.

Throw away account for reasons. I wasn't really sure where to post this but I really need to talk to someone. So I (29f) got married young, I always knew I was attracted to women but I had only had one girlfriend before I met my husband, mostly just because I'm a gentle femme and guys are typically the only ones who approached me. Well a 2yrs ago my husband and I decided we were gonna go ahead and be poly so that I could figure out my sexual orientation outside of the cis/het standards I was used to, it worked out well for him too as he liked the validation and support he gets from his gf's. There was a lot of drama and adjustment along the way as per the usual for monog couples switching over. We had some great triad relationships but I figured out we have very different taste in partners and so we started dating separately. I met a girl out here that I fell head over heels in love with but she was monogamous. She wanted to marry me and I was so crazy about her I nearly divorced my husband so I could make that happen. In the end I wound up walking away from her because I couldn't give her what she wanted, I couldn't justify giving up my marriage to be monogamous with someone else. I don't think I've loved anyone as intensely. Now that I've experienced this level of love and infatuation I'm not really attracted to my husband or any men tbh. It's been over a year and I'm sex repulsed by men, am I actually a lesbian? I have no problem with attraction to my female partners. I'm at a loss rn, my husband is my best friend and it would break my heart to have to tell him 10years into our relationship that I'm too gay to be with him now. I'm trying my best to be ethical, and not jump to conclusions full disclosure I have a mental illness that can also make sex challenging so idk if that is a factor rn.

Submitted July 25, 2020 at 07:40PM by Moist_Efficiency_926 via reddit https://ift.tt/3f7LGQM

[sportsandfitnessinfo]

New Post has been published on http://fitnessandhealthpros.com/fitness/tucson-bucket-list-sedona-getaway/

Tucson bucket list: Sedona getaway

Hi friends! Happy Monday! How was the weekend? Did you do anything fun? Anyone else going crazy over the basketball games? My bracket is officially busted for the most part, and I lost the battle I had going with the Pilot. (If I won, I was going to get to sleep until 10am as my prize. Maybe he’ll still let me?) I’d love to hear what you were up to!

Friday, we had a lot of fun celebrating St. Patrick’s Day.

After I picked Liv up from school, we headed straight to the Tucson St. Patrick’s Day festival at Armory park. As I was putting P into her stroller, I could hear the Celtic music playing, and we had arrived just in time to watch the dancers. I figured the girls would like it, but I had no idea how much. They were ENTRANCED. After the dance performance, the girls jumped their hearts out in the jumping castles (and Liv went down the giant slide like 4 times), and then we sat in the shade eating shaved ice while listening to live music. (<— I like to get the wedding cake flavor to share with the girls because it tastes amazing and zero food dyes.)

As we were packing up to leave, we called the fam (many of them were getting off work), and met up at madre’s for a St. Patrick’s Day feast. She made corned beef, carrots, potatoes, soda bread, and we enjoyed an awesome meal and then played music while the girls danced around the living room. They were cracking us up, and I have to say that their jigs were pretty spot-on after watching the Irish dancers earlier that afternoon.

Saturday morning, I caught an early Orangetheory class, and we we packed up for a Sedona road trip. We’re cranking through our Tucson bucket list as quickly as possible, especially since it turns out that we’ll be heading to Georgia in early April. (I’ve been in denial this entire time and was telling myself it would be the end of April.. turns out that’s not the case at all hahaha.)

We stopped to grab lunch at Chipotle on the way,

(and the girls could shake out their legs)

and before we knew it, we were checking into the exquisite L’Auberge de Sedona. I stayed at L’Auberge a couple of years ago for the Sedona Yoga Festival, and have wanted to take the fam ever since. L’Auberge kindly offered a media rate for our stay in one of their gorgeous creekside cabins.

(There was no doubt about who we were cheering for on Saturday! Jeans are here; they’re my current fave.)

The cabins have a full patio with creekside views -so you can hear the ripple of the water and birds chirping- plus an outdoor cedar shower. When I first took a shower outside, I was wondering if it would be awkward, but turns out that no, it’s super peaceful. The Pilot and I have a random list of life goals, and we added outdoor cedar shower to the mental list.

The entire time we were at L’Auberge, Liv was saying, “THIS IS AMAZING!” and she told me she wanted to live there. Me too, girl. Me too  

We changed for dinner, then enjoyed a meal at Etch, which is their casual outdoor restaurant.

It has a beautiful view of Oak Creek and offers tapas-style dining, entrees featuring local produce, plus handcrafted cocktails. The Pilot had a pomegranate margarita, I enjoyed a glass of Petite Syrah, 

and we shared the wedge fries and hummus plate. Livi loved the mac n’ cheese, P went crazy for the chicken, and the Pilot enjoyed the filet. I was so excited to try the cauliflower steak and egg with shishito vinaigrette, maple apples, and pistachio. 

The cauliflower was perfectly-seasoned, and I loved unexpected sweet apple slices. I’m definitely going to try and recreate it at home!

After dinner, we headed down to the pool for a nighttime swim. P was getting snoozy, so she cuddled in my lap as I put my feet in the water, while Liv and the Pilot splashed and played. The pool was heated to 80+ degrees and saltwater, which I LOVE. We went back to the cabin to start a fire and get the girls ready for bed.

Usually when we stay in a hotel, the Pilot and I will put the girls to bed, then try to stay up and watch a movie or sit on the patio with some wine. Most of the time we’re so tired from having to pretend we’re asleep while the girls fall asleep, we end up crashing early. It ended up being a wise choice because they were up early, and ready to feed some ducks. 

L’Auberge has duck feedings each morning, and they supply the kiddos with their own duck food. Needless to say, it was a huge hit. The girls liked it, too. 😉

After feeding the quackers, we headed to the restaurant for breakfast. It was an amazing feast of eggs, pancakes, yogurt parfait, and fresh berries -I’ve never seen P eat so many blackberries in my life, and Liv crushed her pancakes- and I had a fresh green juice with my eggs and oatmeal.

We packed up our stuff for check-out,

(Dress is on sale here)

and made a quick stop in the spa for a candle + a bottle of my beloved Quiet Mind spray. The spa offerings at L’Auberge are truly unique, as they use local ingredients to craft body care ingredients, and interact with the environment to creating earthing-inspired spa treatments. I posted about my last spa experience at L’Apothecary Spa here and about forest bathing here. Their sleep treatment was incredibly relaxing, and I got to create my own body custom body scrub.

After checking out, we headed to the nearby Tlaquepaque village to explore the shops. 

They have a toy store upstairs, which ended up being a gamechanger. It was a little tricky to entertain P on the car ride up to Sedona -we got stuck in traffic for an hour- and this toy ended up keeping her busy for the ENTIRE ride back. She’s really into taking things apart and putting them back together, and was completely content figuring out this board. If you have any other similar tricks or ideas to keep her entertained on our upcoming plane trip to Atlanta, I would appreciate them so much!! I’m already planning on buying her a seat and bringing her carseat. (Otherwise, she’ll want to be climb and run all over the plane…Halp meeeeeeeee)

After a lunchtime stop at Whole Foods in Phoenix, we were back to the pups! (They had a sleepover at my madre’s.)

It’s funny because when we were back at the house, I told the Pilot that even though we were back home, it doesn’t really feel like *home.* It’s been such a temporary thing, I think we still feel like we’re at a hotel, and definitely haven’t completely settled. I think that short-lived stay has really encouraged me to just enjoy the present and enjoy these random adventures with the fam. Maybe one day we’ll be in one place for more than a couple of years, but for now, it’s going to be awesome sharing fun memories all over the place with these little nuggets.

I hope you have a wonderful day!

See ya in the morning with your spring fitness plan, plus more details about our upcoming barre bootcamp. 🙂

xoxo

Gina

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Originally at :The Fitnessista Written By : Fitnessista