#mars fics

[more-mara]

My writer red flag is that I cannot stick to one project at a time because tell me why I’m writing a Landoscar university au one shot when I haven’t even finished my current wips 🤨

[pthalomars]

I never post my writing but I'd like to share a snippet of a drabble I wrote for an au that me and @jankwritten are working on

[Context: a year after blood of olympus, leo wakes up under Thalia's tree comes back to find his best friends in shambles. It's not the warm welcome he was expecting..]

[mariipun]

Some Sunny Day

Warnings: N/A, Fluff

Word Count: 1,671

Brief Description: Welcome Home Bakery AU. Wally Darling x GN!Reader. Reader/self-insert. You are learning how to bake, but don’t know where to start. Not wanting to be a nuisance, you’ve begun watching from outside the local bakery café’s window as Wally took notice.

[Characters belong to Clown, aka, partycoffin]

Dedication: @satanic-witchcraft (Inspired by their Bakery AU, although it’s extremely loosely based /I just love the aesthetic/. Just a fanfic I wrote because I dreamt about this scenario lol)

.

.

It first began on a warm Tuesday afternoon.

You stood there outside, writing in a yellow-covered journal as you watched through the window of the bakery café; the blue-haired man glancing up at you every so often as he kneaded the dough. At one point, the both of you had made eye contact and he watched as you smiled. You pointed toward his motions and then pointed at your book with a slight tilt of your head as if asking permission to take notes.

Wally nodded, a smile of his own forming on his lips in return before going back to work on evenly distributing the dough. You continued to take notes, sometimes carefully mimicking some of his movements in the air as if committing to memory the way the dough needed to be handled. You’d be there for about an hour before placing your journal into your satchel, tucking the pencil behind your ear, and waving goodbye. Wally simply grinned, nodding in reply as you walked away.

This continued every week for the next three months.

Like clockwork, you were there every Tuesday afternoon as the café side bustled with life; customers shuffling in or out with pastries, coffees, or teas. Wally had become accustomed to your presence, albeit through the bakery’s window. He wondered why you simply didn’t come in to ask him questions about his work... or why you never seemed to come into the establishment during this time.

The other workers happened to take notice as well, but he assured them it was not an issue, and he didn’t want anyone to pry. He assumed you were wanting to learn how to bake, perhaps even explore new culinary skills. He may not know the extent of your situation, but he was always happy to teach, as you had always been enthusiastic to learn.

You’d watch, you’d write, and then you’d both exchange goodbyes. He didn’t realize when he’d stop working on whatever he was doing to simply watch you walk away to whatever destination you were headed to next.  

.

.

Every Tuesday afternoon, he began anticipating your return.

He didn’t quite show how excited he was, maintaining his cool demeanor, yet mindlessly fiddling with the strings of his apron. As the clock ticked closer to the predetermined time, he would prepare his area, having a different recipe or lesson at the ready.

You had even started noticing the little things he did, perking with curiosity. Some days there would be a recipe for whatever he was making during that time, laid out in front of your view; a list of ingredients meticulously written out in what you assumed was his handwriting.

Was he sharing his trade secrets with you?

You would read through the list of items, jotting them down quickly before watching as he began creating the batch of goods. Whenever Wally shared one of his recipes though, he’d patiently wait until you were done writing before showing you how to measure and make.

On other days he’d start showing off, tossing dough in the air, or elaborately packaging whole loaves of bread for orders. Sometimes he’d get a bit carried away, getting flour in his hair, or accidentally dropping an egg on the floor. He’d shift his eyes toward you to catch a glimpse of your reaction, always earning a giggle or stifling a laugh in your hand before continuing to write away in that yellow journal of yours. His cheeks would dust rouge in embarrassment, but honestly, Wally was glad he had an audience, especially one as devoted as you.

Sometimes, a bittersweet taste would settle on his tongue as the hour would end and you’d retreat into the world while he stayed behind the glass. Your figure would be lost within the crowd of people walking up and down the sidewalk, colors of various shades blending and muting into the background.

He wondered what you did every Tuesday morning before coming to the bakery, and what you did after when your time together would end.

Maybe he’d ask you one of these days, but for now, he enjoyed the wordless company.

.

.

Twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes past your usual arrival time.

You hadn’t shown up yet and the ticking of the clock began to make him restless.

Wally started to wonder if you were no longer available, or maybe, no longer interested in stopping by. A few different scenarios had swirled in his mind from you being at work, maybe school, having gotten hurt, maybe sick? Why was he so concerned about a complete stranger? Neither one of you even knew the other’s name.

Yet… he felt his chest tighten, disappointment prickling at his skin.

Surely, you were just running late today?

He stared at the counter; his mind lost in thought. He didn’t hear the familiar dings of the bell when the front door opened as you stepped inside, yellow journal in hand. He had only looked up when he heard Julie’s voice greet you from the register.

“Finally decided to come inside instead of watching through the window, huh?” Julie chimed.

You laughed in response, the sound filling the bakery with warmth.

Wally’s cheeks lifted as a smile formed on his lips, eyes falling on you. Feelings of elation and relief both washed over him in waves.

He stood still. The world around him seemed to burst into vibrant hues of light. Soft yellows, pinks, and mellow blues dance around you. He continued to watch you in adoration as you placed a drink order and made your way to one of the small tables near the corner of the café.

“It’s not polite to stare you know,” Poppy spoke up from behind him, causing him to turn and stutter in response. She smiled at him and shook her head. “Why not just say hello?” She encouraged, earning a defeated sigh from the man.

Wally took off his apron, hanging it up. “You’re right…” he mused, dusting himself off. “I’m going to take a break…”

“Take all the time you need dear,” Poppy replied, taking over the kitchen.

He carefully made his way over.

.

.

You were comfortably seated in the corner, reading through your writings as you sipped your drink. Setting the cup down, you looked over to the man making his way to you. You gave him a smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Mind if I join you for a bit?” he asked, a bit hesitant.

“I don’t mind at all.” You spoke sweetly, gesturing for him to sit.

Wally pulled out the chair across from you, settling down as well. Eyes panning down to your journal, he pointed a finger in its direction. “May I?”

“Oh! Of course.” You chuckled, moving the journal toward him. He began turning through the pages in awe of the detailed notes, scribbles, and even sketches of the baked goods he shared with you.

“Wow, this is incredible.” He breathed, “You even captured some of the techniques I use when I bake…”

“Yeah, I really wanted to make sure I got it right, ya know?” You confessed before clicking your tongue, “…But… whenever I try to bake something myself, it doesn’t seem to turn out right…” You mulled over the words, leaning forward to rest your arms on the table as you watched him read.

After a moment, he looked up at you in understanding before setting the journal back on the table. “Well, if you are interested, I’d be more than happy to teach you one-on-one here in the bakery, so you aren’t just watching from outside.”

“Really?” You squeaked, a bit more loudly than intended, earning a few looks your way. You gave him a sheepish grin, nodding. “Thank you… I would absolutely love that, but…”

“But?” He looked at you quizzically.

“I don’t have much money to really afford private lessons or anything…” You said sadly, reaching over to take the journal back. “I’ve usually just come by to watch you work, which is why I took notes. I tried doing the same with a few other bakeries, but they brushed me off. You were the only one that didn’t really seem to mind…” Sighing, you closed the journal and tucked it away, “I just didn’t want to bother you with it, so I’m just fine watching from the window…”

Wally pondered this for a moment, humming thoughtfully before nodding at you. “Then how about this? I’ll teach you ways you can improve your skills, and in return, you help me organize my recipes. That sound fair?”

“More than fair… That’s just way too generous.” You counter, hands coming up in defense.

“I suppose, but I do need some help with organizing my own notes. And it’d be a great help if you could assist with that, especially with all the ideas and experiments I have in mind... Sometimes I lose track.” He chuckled, gently scratching his cheek. This offer was more of an excuse to get to know you better anyhow. “So, what do you say?”

“Y-Yes…. I say yes, absolutely. Thank you so much, Mr.—"

“Darling”, he interjects, extending a hand for you to take. “My name’s Wally Darling. But please, call me Wally.”

You slowly take his hand in your own, heat emitting from your cheeks as you gave him your name in return. “It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance… Wally.”

For the rest of his break, the two of you talked, laughed, and talked some more until his attention was pulled away back to work.

You said your farewells, but before leaving, Wally gifted you a small box of pastries filled with new flavors he was working on; contemplating whether they would be good to sell or not. He asked you to try them and write in detail what you thought about each one. You were happy to do so, saying goodbye once more as you left the bakery.

You were both looking forward to next Tuesday.

.

.

[marzipanloves]

☔ for Macaque?

(TYSM! Funny enough I have the perfect picture for it)

☔ — f/o and s/i got caught in the rain... write about how they handle it! did either of them bring an umbrella?

The sound of rain pouring down on the pavement made a wash of white noise in the otherwise noisy city as two men stood under the awning of the café they’d just finished eating at. Somehow the downpour caught them by complete surprise, despite Mars pulling out their phone and rechecking the weather report, that ‘15% chance of rain’ suddenly like far bigger odds as they’d initially assumed.

The other man beside them somewhat leaned towards them, glancing down at the phone in their hands.

“So. Does it say how long this’ll last?” Macaque asked glancing back up at them.

“Uhhh…” Mars muttered, scrolling with their finger only to find that the forecast had suddenly changed to rain for the rest of the day, “I’ll just say it’s not something we can wait out.” They sighed, putting their phone back in their pocket. Their husband caught the message, letting out a discontent hum as he crossed his arms.

The two of them stood there, looking out at the rain that blurred the view the further they looked out, rippling and splashing on the ground. The pitter-patter of raindrops on the pavement somewhat muffled the sounds of conversations and already sparse traffic around them. What started as a disappointment turned to a much more  peaceful scene, as Mars shut their eyes and took a deep breath of the clear, refreshing scent of the water, sighing blissfully. Turning to see their now more relaxed body language, Macaque himself felt his frustrations fading as he stretched, only to use his extended arm as an excuse to wrap around their waist and pull them closer to him.

They leaned against him, giving another content sigh as they nuzzled against his warm body to contrast the cool weather.

After another few moments of watching the rain Macaque stretched again, rolling his neck and shoulders.

“Alright then, I think I know how to deal with this.” He said with a tilted smile on his face. Before they could ask, he suddenly fell into the ground, quite literally, as a circle of shadow enveloped the ground beneath him that he suddenly disappeared into.

A small gasp of surprise left them before they chuckled, shaking their head from how they were still surprised by his powers despite how used to it they were.

Another shadow portal appeared on the concrete wall beside them, a hand reaching out and gesturing them closer before being held out, ready for them to take it. Mars giggled again at their husband’s playful actions before stepping forward and taking it. As soon as his hand closed around theirs, they were quickly pulled forward, nearly falling through the portal until they hit something warm and soft again, looking up at how they’d landed on their husband’s chest.

Disorienting as it had been in the past, they weren’t surprised this time by the sudden shift of scenery as they looked around to suddenly be under the awning of his dojo.

“You okay?” Macaque asked with a smug smile, having pulled them harder just to feel them fall into his arms, something he figured they’d put together but pleased by the result nonetheless. Mars let out another small chuckle as they leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Yep!” they replied, turning to look out at the rain once more. Now out of the more busy main areas of the city, the sounds of traffic and people were completely gone amongst the sounds of the rain. It felt so tranquil, they could almost…

“Babes?”

Macaque’s voice brought them from their voice, pulling them back as they’d walked forward without realizing it, his hold stopping them from nearly stepping out into the rain. Though to be honest, it looked really nice…refreshing after the otherwise warmer than normal weather for the season. Plus, they were already right here at home…

They turned back to give him their own mischievous smile.

“Baaabe?” he asked, quirking a brow as he saw the grin on their face, his own growing as if he practically knew exactly where their mind was going.

Before he could ask they let go of him, stepping out into the pouring rain with a small noise of surprise at how cool the water was and how quickly they were drenched.

At their surprise and silly act they heard their husband laugh, turning to see him shaking his head. At first they thought he’d just roll his eyes and tell them to come inside, but to their surprise he suddenly stepped forward too, ears and tail flicking as he felt the cool rain on his fur. The initial bracing for the cold water smoothed into a more relaxed look as he opened his eyes again, looking down at them with obvious fondness in his eyes and voice as he cracked another smile.

“You’re somethin’ else.”

In return Mars just chuckled again, leaning up to cup his face in their hands and pressing a kiss on his lips, initially supposed to be quick but ending up lingering longer as his arms wrapped around them. After a few moments they broke the kiss, eyes starting to flutter open again as they looked back up at him.

His lidded adoring gaze suddenly shifted to more wide eyes before he started laughing. They were about to ask but realize what’s up as they open their eyes more and realize their glasses are absolutely covered in water, practically useless now. His hearty laugh, much brighter and louder than his otherwise more chilled, composed demeanor was both adorable and contagious, causing them to just take the frames off and laugh along with him.

“Alright, alright. We should get inside before it gets too cold, come on.” Macaque shook his head again, lifting the edge of his cape to cover the two of them from being drenched any further as he ushered them back towards the building.

They may have both gotten cold and had to hang their soaked clothes up, but it was still far worth it to make some hot drinks and settle into the warm bed together, drifting off to a very comfortable nap, hand in hand as usual.

[yzzyhee]

love bite — sjy

bf!jake x gf! reader

warnings: established relationship, suggestive (minors dni), kissing/making out?, biting, marking, grinding, hair pulling, petnames (baby) , smallcases written work

wc: 930~

synopsis: your boyfriend’s collarbone makes you give dracula a small run for his money

a/n: i actually wrote for a second time. wow. it had to be done… anyway! genuinely don’t know what i did nor do i want to know anymore 😃 but this is mainly for myself bc i can’t either bite his or my wife’s collarbone so @ja3yun, angel, this one is for you. i wish to do to u what yn did to jakey 🙂‍↕️ or i just want jake idk anymore send help but anyway feedbacks are appreciated 🧛

“stop staring.”

“hm?”

“yn.”

you smile innocently at your boyfriend as he gives you a pointed look. to be honest, you have been staring at him — specifically his collarbone that is currently peaking from under his hoodie.

“can you please focus?”

oh, right. jake’s been trying to explain to you the material from the latest physics class but you seem to lose your focus. and how could you not? his pretty, kind of — definitely — suckable collarbone is just sitting there, waiting for you to bite on… you’re just a girl after all.

“let me bite you.” you say suddenly and for a second your eyes widen, surprised that you actually voiced your thoughts.

jake tilts his head and looks at you with a curious look. you’re not usually the dominant one in the relationship, always letting him to take the lead in your intimate moments.

although his focus should remain on the task at hand, your outburst has diverted him into your way of thinking and now his thoughts are filled of your soft lips on his skin and the way you look at him sends a small shiver down his spine as heat courses through his veins.

he leans back against the headboard of his bed, his hoodie somehow slipping a little further down his shoulder, exposing more of that collarbone you’ve been eyeing so intently.

“you want to bite me?” he asks, voice low, almost teasing.

you bite your bottom lip and nod, feeling confident now that you sense the desire in his voice.

“just a little bit.” you murmur, a mischievous smile spreading across your lips as you move closer to him and let your fingers brush against the fabric of his hoodie, tugging it down more to expose that tempting, just so tempting skin of his.

jake’s breath hitches as he watches you. it’s not like you to be so forward and that contrast between your usual shyness, submissive attitude versus this sudden boldness is making his heart race. he doesn’t stop you when you press your lips to his collarbone, slowly kissing the exposed skin. your teeth graze him without notice and he feels a jolt of electricity run through him.

“yn…” he breathes out, his hands instinctively finding your waist, pulling you closer as your lips work their way along his collarbone. the softness of your lips kissing, tongue peaking out to lick at his skin and the nip of your teeth is driving him insane, each touch of yours going straight to his dick as he feels himself getting hard.

you’re so focused on him, lost in the sensation of his warm skin beneath your mouth that you barely notice the way his hands tighten around you, pulling you into his lap and making you straddle him.

you let out a small gasp, feeling his hard on pressing into your core. his hands make their way to your back, lowering you completely on him.

you detach yourself from his collarbone and move to look at him. your breath halts as you see him looking at you with darkened eyes and slightly parted lips. he drops his gaze on your glossy lips, touching them slowly with his thumb. you part them, biting down on his finger.

his eyes seem to darken even more, his lips crashing against yours, hungry and demanding. his hands find the hem of your shirt and he doesn’t even think twice before he pulls it over your head.

he breaks your kiss to look at you and you suddenly feel a bit shy under his gaze as he’s taking you in, staring as if you’re the beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

you take advantage of him staring at you and you take control to reach the zipper of his hoodie, your fingers brushing against his chest as you pull it down, revealing more of the skin you’ve been craving.

you lean in, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone, revelling in the way his breath comes in short gasps and the way his grip on your waist tightens.

“baby, you’re driving me insane…” he groans, his voice strained and filled with a kind of desperation that feeds into your ego and makes you start rocking back and forth slowly on him.

you smile at his words, enjoying the effect you have on him. “i like driving you insane.” you whisper against his bone and feeling brave, you give him small kitten licks along it.

he swallows thickly as your kisses move slowly higher, settling on a spot just near his pulse, feeling it pounding. you let your lips part against his skin as you begin to suck gently, your tongue flicking against him and teeth biting into as you work on leaving him with your mark.

jake moans again and bucks himself up into you. the sound spurs you on and you suck and bite a little harder, feeling his heartbeat quicken. as you pull back you’re greeted by the sight of a dark mark blossoming on his skin and you smile in satisfaction.

his hands glide up your back, fingers threading into your flowing hair. with a firm grip, he gently tugs, tilting your head back to expose your neck and the curve of your chest, barely covered by your bra. he leans closer, his warm breath hovering over your skin. his lips graze your collarbone, pressing a slow, lingering kiss before his tongue begins to trace along the delicate ridge.

“my turn to bite," he murmurs with a cheshire-cat grin, and you've never been more grateful for giving voice to your desires.

[ghostbsuter]

"Excuse me?" Jazz's voice echoes in the meeting room in space. She gains the attention of the heroes immediately and sees them tensing up in at her appearance.

Behind her, he swirling green portal is open, waiting for her to return.

A blond, coat wearing man, curses upon seeing her and gives a half bow. "Princess Jasmine," he speaks up, eye twitching.

"What brings you here?"

At the greeting and reveal of her title, few others fall into bows, the lady at the head of the table, wonder woman?, gives her a smile.

Her eyes pin the green skinned man to his seat, who in return tilts his head at her.

"My brothers birthday is soon," she focuses on the man again. "I'm simply here for a present."

The man tenses, another curse slipping. "Ah– king phantom, right? I wasn't aware his birthday would be so soon."

Jazz ignores him, calmly walking to the Martian and placing a picture of Mars before him.

"The tales of your people have brought much interest to my brother. He became a big fan." She tells, sharing her intentions at his light poking.

"I ask for a signature, it would make his day."

Martian Manhunter, alien hero, and once upon a time, a father even smiles. He's delighted yet feeling a deep-rooted sadness. The tales of his people continue to spread in the afterlife, it seems.

Jazz leaves quickly after, not before giving Diana a number, they are cousins after all.

Danny will love her present.

[dulcescorderitas]

riding while riding

parings: dean winchester x reader

warnings: 18+, smut

the impala growls beneath you, steady and alive, the deep purr of baby's engine vibrating through your thighs as dean grips the wheel with one hand, the other locked tight around your hip. his knuckles flex, tension coiling in his arm, but he doesn’t stop you when you move, when you press your palms to his chest and sink down onto his cock, slow, hot, aching with the stretch.

“fuck,” he grits out, head knocking back against the seat, adam’s apple bobbing as his breath hitches. “you tryna kill me, sweetheart?”

he’s already wrecked, voice low and strained, but you don’t care. you can’t—not when he’s thick and deep inside you, when the heat of him is searing through your core, and his cock filling you up so good you can barely breathe. the road ahead is a blur of darkness, the moon was casting pale streaks across his face showing sweat beading at his temple and his jaw locked up tight as he fights to keep his eyes on the highway instead of you; watching you ride him, slow and greedy, dragging pleasure out of him inch by inch.

“shit,” he chokes, fingers digging into your waist, like he’s trying to keep control, like he’s not seconds from snapping. “you gotta—baby, you gotta be careful.”

but you don’t ease up. you rock into him harder, your nails scratching against his chest, and he twitches deep inside you, a sharp jerk that makes you gasp. his grip tightens, and you know it’s killing him, trying to focus, trying to keep the impala steady while you work yourself down on his cock. he’s torn between keeping you safe and giving in, and you love it; you love the way he’s struggling.

“dean,” you whisper, lips brushing his ear, breath hot and teasing. “let go.”

his restraint shatters like glass.

his hands lock tight around your waist, and suddenly you’re not in control anymore—he is, slamming you down onto him as his hips drive up, sharp and devastating, dragging wrecked little sounds from your throat. the impala swerves, just a little, tires kissing the middle yellow line before he rights her back into the lane; but fuck, neither of you care, not when he’s fucking you deep and rough, his jaw slack, his breath coming fast and broken.

“damn,” he groans, forehead pressing to your shoulder, his body burning beneath your hands, and his eyes desperately trying to say open. “you’re so—fuck—so damn tight.”

the world outside ceases to exist. it’s just this—just the raw friction, the road flying by, the sticky heat of sweat and desperation clinging to your skin. your thighs shake as he ruins you, every thrust lighting you up, shoving you closer to that edge, and your breath catching in needy little whimpers that drive him insane.

you’re almost there, right there, pleasure coiling, your body trembling.

you shatter apart with a cry, your nails biting into his shoulders, your body clenching tight around him as you fall, pleasure hitting you so hard it blanks your mind. and dean, he’s right behind you, his breath strangled, a hoarse groan ripping from his throat as he thrusts up, once, twice, then stills, buried deep as he spills inside you, heat flooding you as his whole body shakes beneath you.

for a moment, there’s nothing but ragged breathing, the rumble of the impala eating up the highway, the sticky press of your bodies locked together. you slump against his chest, his heart hammering against your ear, and his hand drifts up, fingers slipping beneath your shirt, stroking slow circles against your damp skin.

“you’re the nastiest distraction,” he mutters, voice rough, spent. but he’s smiling, his lips pressing soft to your temple, his other hand never leaving the wheel, guiding you both through the night.

tags: @soldiersgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @bocadelinfierno @sunnyteume

[marviless]

sinkhole

buddie | 29k | rated teen | post 8x08

It’s an obsession—thinking about this guy. Buck doesn’t know how to be normal about it. He’s spent the last forty-eight hours overcome with the urge to know everything about him, whether he likes his coffee cold or hot, whether he sleeps with socks on, whether he eats the same Special K cereal as Eddie in the morning with the little freeze-dried strawberries, whether he breathes out his nose or his mouth, whether he has any idea that his new home is a gravesite, and Buck is the widow sitting on the bench nearby. He needs to know. He needs to see, needs to find out whether this man is worthy of treading over the same hardwood floors that Eddie and Christopher’s bare feet have touched.

Someone new moves into Eddie's house. Buck does the completely normal thing and starts dating him.

READ ON AO3

[incorrect-green-lantern-quotes]

Currently drunk and imagining Green Lanterns being the resident alien experts in the Justice League/Titans/whatever superhero team they’re in

Like, when the JL first got together and Hal learned that two of his teammates were the last survivors of their worlds, he decided then and there that he would always support them in whatever way he could.

(Because as the first- and for a while, only- human in the Green Lantern Corps, Hal knew better than most what it was like to be the only one of his species in a room. It’s astonishingly lonely even when you know your planet and people are still alive and well.)

So Hal asks his ring for information about Krypton and Mars, which holidays their people had celebrated and held sacred, what foods they had enjoyed that he could recreate with ingredients available on Earth.

Hal ends up becoming the third JL member after Bruce and Diana to learn about Superman’s secret identity after Clark has to explain that he came to Earth as an infant and most of his own knowledge of Krypton is as secondhand as Hal’s is. J’onn however, is very touched by Hal’s attempts at baking N’bisko cookies, as it reminds him of when he would make them with his wife and daughter.

Guy inadvertently makes Hal's practices into a tradition when he gets roped into some Fourth World drinking games with Mr. Miracle and Big Barda. Apokolips might be a flaming hellhole, but it was still once home to them both and they do miss it at times. Even in his Warrior years, Guy keeps his pub stocked with food and drinks that are popular in space, in case he gets a hungry visitor from the stars.

From then on, it becomes a duty of their shared legacy. John in his rookie days didn’t listen much to Hal but this was one of piece of advice he did heed: You might end up with an alien refugee as a teammate at some point, and it is your job as a Green Lantern to be there for them when they’re homesick. John was never a member of the Titans, and he's certainly no mentor to the team's alien princess, but he does visit Starfire on days when her banishment from Tamaran weighs most heavily, like the Blorthog Festival.

Kyle had no idea about any of this when he inherited the last ring in the wake of the Corp’s twilight. Expecting him to pick up where his predecessors had left off would have been just another weight to carry on his shoulders. So instead the heroes who'd once been touched by a Green Lantern's kindness now return the favor for their only successor. They tell Kyle about the Corps that were the keepers of peace and justice across the universe for thousands of years. They tell him of how the emerald knights of Oa were brave and kind and loved by so many people.

They tell him these things because they see that the Green Lanterns were more than just an organization of lawmen. They were a legacy, a family, a culture. Unorthodox insofar as that every member was an adopted one, but that only meant Kyle is just as much a son of the Corps as Hal or Guy or John had ever been. He may be Oa’s last son, may not have known that he belonged to the Green Lanterns until their light was all but gone, but he would never have to be lonely.

[saintzweig]

accidentally sending your boss, art donaldson, a lewd photo :") you've been working as his manager for a few months now, his old team slowly cutting ties with him to manage a younger, hotter tennis player and you were hired to make sure the transition from being a six time grand slam champion to a retired six time grand slam champion goes a little easier.

working under him was a little intimidating at first, after all he was older and wiser, but art did his best to make you feel comfortable and friendly– sometimes a little too friendly.

you were on your day off, lounging on the couch with your take out boxes between your legs, phone on the other hand. as pathetic as it sounds, you were spending your rare free day sexting someone you just matched with on tinder, some guy named patrick. you took a second to check out the hidden folder of your lewd photos that you keep just for this situation, because taking photos right as you're texting is too exhausting, right?

you choose a good one, your face slightly in the frame showing the dark berry lipgloss adorning your lips, body clad in black lingerie and your thighs pressed together, your fingers hovering above share, imessage, patri– oh. you sent it to art. your boss, art donaldson. retired six time grand slam champion art donaldson.

you quickly scramble up to open the app and delete the photo, but the world seemed to be against you as your fried rice spilled all over your lap and sofa, slowing you down. by the time you've opened the chat, art had already seen it. oh god.

and he's typing.

you picked at the skin of your lips anxiously, would he fire you over this? is there an hr he can report you to? how are you gonna pay off your debt? where will you live now that you can't pay off your rent?–

'i'll see you tomorrow'

'better be wearing that'

[nikkisvfx]

when they look like a lana del rey song 😫

[mxxtalupyourass]

꧁𖤐 NIKKI SIXX NSFW ALPHABET 𖤐꧂ 1984

꧁𖤐 WARNINGS: Mentions of breeding kink, Choking, No Aftercare situations, Mentions of drugs, Mentions of Alcohol, Panty stealing

(Lmk if i missed any)

A/N: got a burst of inspiration

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

𖤐 I believe Nikki would act depending on who you are

𖤐 If you were someone who mattered to him, he would 100% be real sweet to you afterwards. He may not say a lot, but he’ll let you sit there in his arms.

𖤐 If you’re just a groupie or someone he views as a quick lay, there isn’t really a lot of aftercare. He’s high & horny and probably fresh off stage, he doesn’t care about aftercare.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part on you & on himself)

𖤐 This man is a tits guy and I will die on that hill.

𖤐 He loves your tits so much. They’re like a pillow. You sleep on your back? His head is lying on your boobs like a pillow.

𖤐 For him, he likes his arms. He likes to watch you ogle over his arms, his tattoos.. It’s cute.

𖤐 He’ll catch you staring at his arms sometimes and he just giggles at you.

“You’re staring again, Love.” He poked your side, laughing at you a bit.

“S’ not my fault, you can’t just have your arms out like that! You know what they do to me.” You huffed at him, making him laugh more. He was wearing a tank top, which left his arms out for the world to see.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

𖤐 Drawing back to what I said before about your tits, he would love to cum on your boobs.

𖤐 Just the thought of your perfect tits covered in his unborn kids could get him hard as a rock.

𖤐 If he cums inside of you, he always goes the next morning to buy you a plan-b.

D = Dirty Secret (Self Explanatory.)

𖤐 When you two met as teenagers, the first time you took him to your house was just a few days after meeting.

𖤐 He snuck into your bedroom and stole some of your panties.

𖤐 He said he was gonna go to the bathroom real quick, and you nodded.

𖤐 He didn’t go to the bathroom.

𖤐 You wondered where they went..

E= Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

𖤐 SUPER experienced. You already know.

𖤐 Like, every other story of him you hear is about sex somehow.

𖤐 He knows where to look for every spot, good positions, and good kinks.

F= Favorite Positions

𖤐 He loves doggystyle. Adores it. Especially in a mirror.. Seeing your face and seeing your tits bounce make him cum.

𖤐 Like’s Face Off too. He thinks it’s super hot to hold you and stare at you into your eyes as he’s absolutely ruining you below.

𖤐 His favorite is cowgirl, though. Loves putting his hands on your hips to guide you.

G= Goofy (Are they more serious? Are they humorous?)

𖤐 Depends.

𖤐 If he’s drunk? He wouldn’t be opposed to some laughing.

𖤐 He’s high? I feel he’d be more serious. If it’s heroin, then definitely serious. Weed though? Goofiest man ever.

𖤐 If he’s sober, it just depends on his mood.

H= Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

𖤐 He’s not SUPER overgrown, but.. he’s not bald either. He may trim a bit, but..

𖤐 And as for the carpet matching the drapes.. No, they don’t match! Nikki dyes his hair black from brown, so it’s all gonna be brown down there.

I= Intimacy (How are they during the moment? Romantic?)

𖤐 Depends on how he’s feeling & if it’s a quickie or not.

𖤐 If it is, then there isn’t a whole lot of romance..

𖤐 But if it isn’t, & he’s in a good mood, then he could be plenty romantic.

J= Jack Off (Masturbation headcannon)

𖤐 He has been surrounded by girls for a couple years now. He used to jack off a bunch, but now he doesn’t really need to..

𖤐 Although he does jack off sometimes when he’s on tour, thinking of you.

K= Kink (One or more of their kinks)

𖤐 choking. He loves the idea of being able to control how you breathe while he fucking ruins you.

𖤐 Bondage. He loves seeing you tied up.. and maybe himself a little..

𖤐 He is the KING of edging people. He loves seeing that look of desperation on your face.

𖤐 Sensory deprivation. Blindfolds, noise cancelling headphones.. etc.

𖤐 Temperature play. Matches, ice cubes, hot wax..

𖤐 Public/Semipublic sex. Likes the risk of getting caught

L= Location (favorite place to fuck)

𖤐 Backstage. Not even in his dressing room either.

𖤐 In bed, of course. He’s a fan of his early morning sex.

𖤐 Shower. He loves showering with you.

𖤐 Kitchen counter. He adores pulling you to the side onto the counter while you’re cooking..

M= Motivation (What gets them going?)

𖤐 If you wear any tight or revealing clothes.. oh man its on.

𖤐 On occasion, he’ll have you sit on his lap. After a little bit of you squirming around to get comfortable, you’ll feel something hard poking your ass.

N= No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs.)

𖤐 He would never actually hurt you. He might talk about it, but that’s just words. He would never.

𖤐 He might have sex with you while he’s drunk or high, but he never wants to when you are. Just in case.

𖤐 And back to the choking thing, he would love to choke you, but he wouldn’t ever choke you hard.

𖤐 And if you say to stop choking, he would in an instant.

O= Oral (Does he prefer to give or receive? Skill?)

𖤐 As much as he LOVES to eat you out, he prefers receiving.

𖤐 He is super amazing at oral. And he also loves to see you fall apart on his tongue.

𖤐 But theres something about seeing your lips all swollen, wrapped around his cock.

𖤐 He loves it when you choke on his cock..

𖤐 He would grab your hair and guide you, letting you up to breathe occasionally

P= Pace (Are they fast or rough? Slow and sensual?)

𖤐 Depends, again.

𖤐 Unless he’s feeling particularly sweet, he’s gonna be fast & rough.

𖤐 if he’s feeling more romantic..

𖤐 He’d be more gentle, slower. More sensual.

Q= Quickie (Opinion on quickies, how often..)

𖤐 Big fan. He’s a big fan.

𖤐 Loves getting quickies before a show.

𖤐 Usually the before-show quickies just mean you suck his dick,

𖤐 But after the show, he always pays you back.

R= Risks (Are they game to experiment? Do they like risks?)

𖤐 YES yes he is!!

𖤐 He LOVES to experiment.

𖤐 If you come up to him with an idea or a new thing to try, he’ll drag you to his room real quick. No hesitation.

S= Stamina (How long can they go for? How many rounds?)

𖤐 I’d say about 3-4 rounds on a day he’s just really feeling it.

𖤐 One round lasting about 45 minutes.

𖤐 A normal day would be about 1-2 rounds

T=Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On themselves or on you?)

𖤐 He owns toys but not for himself

𖤐 Claims that nothing can do it for him as good as you can.

𖤐 But he loves punishing you with toys. It’s his favorite.

𖤐 Would either edge you or tie your wrists and make you sit with it in for a while on max.

U= Unfair (how much do they tease?)

𖤐 He is the king of teases.

𖤐 He would sit there with his leather pants just a little bit unlaced, while you whine for him to just take them off

𖤐 Also, the edging bit. He loves to hear you whine for him, to let you cum.

V= Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

𖤐 He isn’t particularly loud.. but he isn’t quiet either.

𖤐 Quiet moans, little whimpers..

𖤐 Lets out a whine when he cums.

W= Wild card (Random Headcannon)

𖤐 Basically worships you.

𖤐 Like actually. Any time you take off your clothes, he realizes just how down bad he is.

𖤐 Praises fall from his lips like a second language

𖤐 “Love, you are absolutely perfect..”

𖤐 “God, look at those thighs.. pretty girl..”

𖤐 “Fuck, the things you do to me..”

X= X-ray (what’s going on under those clothes?)

𖤐 6 1/2 inches, take it or leave it.

𖤐 Pretty girthy, though, so it makes up for the length.

𖤐 Has pretty heavy balls

Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

𖤐 Oh lord

𖤐 He’s horny any time you are

𖤐 Actually, when isn’t he horny?

Z= Zzzzz (How fast they fall asleep afterwards?)

𖤐 I’d say about 30 minutes

𖤐 Likes to take care of you, & make sure you’re all cleaned up.

𖤐 Will let you curl up in his arms and fall asleep

𖤐 Plays with your hair and whispers praise

[pettyprocrastination]

I'm sorry to the gang but I think initially Aemond is a bad lover.

Like, to actually think about it.

His first ever sexual interaction is with a prostitute twice his age that he was coerced into by his older brother, and it seems like he's never seen that woman again until season one when he returned to the brothel in search of aegon hence her speaking on how much he's grown since she last saw him which he seemed visibly uncomfortable within.

It's likely that his interaction with Sylvie was his first and only sexual interaction.

Which means that when he married you and it comes time to consummate your marriage and try for an heir. The sex is...less than ideal.

It's methodical and routine. Your husband above you rutting into you until he cums and then some because the maestro said his seed must "settle" for a child to take hold.

In his mind, sex is done out of obligation and dedication. It's an expectation for a man of a noble house to sire a son to continue the name. And what does he know of pleasure? The vile whispers his brother croons with no intention other than to see his younger brother uncomfortable? The prostitute he laid with before he was even a man himself? Those situations did nothing but make his skin crawl- it's no wonder that his sex is nothing further than noble obligation to his wife and his lineage.

It's less than an issue in your eyes until a knight tasked with standing guard by your door each night speaks I'll of the prince to his brothers in arms.

It spreads like wildfire before the day is even finished. What was once gentle ribbing between men in arms became vile wishes towards you- the dragon prince's wife. Conversation of how it's "a damn shame to let a pretty little thing like her go to waste" and how if they had their chance they'd show you how a proper man lays with a woman.

And maybe one idiotic son of a lord brought into the kingsguard, egged on by too much wine and the racacous laughter of his brethren jests that perhaps one night he'll slip into your room and show you how a proper man fucks when your husband is a way.

"Let the cyclops ride his dragon if it means the princess will ride mine."

Unfortunate for him that our husband happened to be entering the training yard just in time to hear his promise to his brothers in arms.

Now the thing with Aemond is that he's deeply prideful, but also so, so, so desperate for approval. He's spent his entire life chasing it and getting so little in return. His mother was insistent on what makes a good husband- loyalty, dedication, listening to ones wife unlike the way he watched his father wave away her concerns all throughout his childhood. He was adamant about being the proper husband in every strict tradition and stiff display of affection he offered you-

but nobody helped him with sex. So to learn through the vile words of some idiotic guards that he has left his wife wanting becomes the only thought in his mind and must be rectified.

You've only just begun your day when your husband slips into your room, telling whoever is stationed by your door to leave as he locks it behind him before standing before you, hands twitching and eye looking anywhere in the room but you.

So nervous, like a little boy all over again.

When you ask him gently what's wrong he does not hide it from you.

"I have left you wanting, haven't I?"

You let out an incredulous laugh, so taken aback by the blunt question you don't know what would be an appropriate response.

To say he hasn't would be a lie.

To say he has could harm his ego, further spurring his rage.

Instead, you gently cup his face where a pale hand envelopes your own.

"Most men do not concern themselves with the comfort of their wife."

Your blaise response hurts more than saying yes.

"I am not most men."

Your husband, the crown prince and rider of a generations old war hardened beast, looks at you with eager eyes and tells you- asks you to show him how you wish to be touched.

How to fuck you.

You spend the night In his arms, gentle guiding him on where you wish to be kissed, bitten, and licked. How to hold you, where to touch and how hard. Your husband is a receptive one, content to go for hours upon hours until your legs are trembling and there are tears in your eyes because once he learned the utter euphoria of seeing your sing his name in the breathy moan there was nothing he desired more in this wretched world to hear it again and again and again.

When you do finally rest, bodies slick with sweat and exhaustion creeping through your veins, you find yourself wrapped in his arms and his head tucked into the crook of your shoulder. He says nothing about siring a child, or the maestros advice, but simply kisses the spot just beneath your ear before letting himself slowly drift into a deep sleep, the first moment within your marriage that he is truly relaxed in your presence.

The next morning his family is kind enough to say nothing of the bite marks lining your neck as you eat breakfast, just as they are mindful to not ask of the head that once belonged to a member of the kings guard that now belonged on a spike before the castle walls.

[marzipanloves]

💐 for you and MK? :3c

(EEE TYSM JJ♡!!!)

💐 — someone's recieving flowers; write about either f/o or s/i giving the other flowers! what's the occasion, or is it just because?

Another day, another set of deliveries and hope that no one attacks the city while he’s at it. MK breathes in the wind whipping past his face as he drives his delivery cart down the busy streets, relishing the smell of fresh air, the warm noodles in the to-go bags he holds onto and the rubber of the tires as he screeches a rather tight turn down a corner he nearly forgot to take.

He heaves a sigh of relief as he pulls the wheel steady again, chuckling nervously before he finds the place his phone dictates as the last order of this bunch.

He stares down at his phone for the destination before glancing up, eyes widening as he sees the bright and colorful array of flowers and plants all around the front of the building.

“Woahh…” He stares as he parks the cart and grabs the bag, walking in the front and hearing the chime of the door.

“Pigsy’s Noodles! Got your delivery!” He calls out as he steps in, immediately overwhelmed with sweet, floral scents.

“Oh! That was really fast! Thank you!” The shop clerk waves him down, smiling happily as he places the bag on the desk. He feels pride as he sees them open the bag and breathe in the warm scent of the food with a satisfied smile.

“Well, I pride myself on quick return time. Welp! Gotta head back!” MK turns on his heel but is quickly stopped as the clerk calls out again.

“Wait! Aren’t you that Monkie Kid guy?” they ask, head tilting. A somewhat sheepish smile lights MK’s face as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, aha…yeah that’s me.” He feels odd still being recognized so regularly but the clerk just gives another big smile.

“I thought you looked familiar! Tell you what, pick out a bouquet, on the house!”

“What? Well uh, I don’t really…” he trails off as he looks around at all the different types and colors bundled around every shelf and corner of the shop.

“Hey, don’t worry about it! Don’t’cha have someone you could gift to? Friend, family, partner?”

The clerk’s insistence makes it dawn on him that, oh. Yeah he does have someone now. He’d been so focused he hadn’t thought about it, but as it’s mentioned he suddenly feels a happier smile and warmer flush to his face as he thinks about his boyfriend. Mars, so sweet and kind, they’d given him tons of gifts in the past, even before they were dating, usually just extras of whatever they decided to bake or buy. He’d never given thought to things like this, flowers or candy in a romantic gesture, but now that they mention it…

“Yeah! Yeah I’ll totally get some.” He turns with a grin before it falters, suddenly aware he’s a bit out of his depth with the uncountable number of types around him, “Uhh….you got any suggestions?”

--

Mars hummed to the music playing in their headphones, glancing around the screen in front of them as they traced their stylus along their tablet, filling the once blank canvas with small doodles and sketches.

They let their whole focus drift to drawing, making another small doodle of their boyfriend, MK, after seeing footage of him blowing up online after he showed up in another of their friend’s livestreams, watching him somewhat sheepishly hold the phone and talk to the viewers. They couldn’t help but stare every time he was in frame, grinning ear to ear, noticing how his face scrunched when he laughed or how small tears pricked in his eyes as he was left in a small laughing fit as he and Mei goofed around in her garage.

They didn’t even notice how their feet swung a little faster and excitedly every time they heard his voice.

They also didn’t notice the thumping sound coming from another room, at least not at first but the second and third times they did, jumping in surprise as it grew a little louder. Somewhat anxiously they took their headphones off and walked around, trying to listen for the source of the sound before it happened again, making them realize it was some kind of clunky knocking at their door.

They hesitated at first, unsure if the odd clunky knocks were someone else in the apartment building or if someone just accidentally ran into it, but those thought were quickly dismissed as they heard a familiar voice.

“Mmph! Mars! Babe, you home?!”

Mars grinned as they nearly tripped over themself running to the door, quickly opening it only to jump back as they opened to see a giant bundle of different colored flowers waiting for them.

After a moment they heard more sputtering before their boyfriend’s face appeared above, stepping on his toes with a happy grin.

“MK? What’s all this?” They asked with a slight chuckle at the absurd size of the bundle he held, moving out of the way so he could come inside.

“Well,” MK grunted as he carefully stepped in, turning to the side so he could see them better without the flowers directly in front of him, “I had a delivery at a flower shop and they recognized me as the Monkie Kid! And, well, they said I could pick out whatever I wanted! For you know, saving the city a ton and stuff.” He grinned before looking down at the bundle and back at them with a sheepish chuckle.

“I guess I kinda went overboard. I couldn’t help it! I didn’t know which ones I should get! But the shopkeeper kept recommending stuff for love and appreciation and stuff, and I know you like purple and-- well...” he gave a small shrug with a chuckle at the realization of how silly he probably looked.

Mars laughed happily at the explanation and his sudden cute nervousness as he tried to find a place to set the bundle down before they stepped in and helped bring it to a table.

“They’re all so beautiful! I can see why it was hard to pick.” They smiled at him, and with his hands finally empty they quickly ran into his arms, squeezing him tightly which he happily returned, nuzzling his head against theirs.

“You like them?”

“I love them! I’ve never gotten so many! And I don’t usually get many to begin with.”

“Really?” MK pulled back, smile faltering at their confession. “But—you’re so cool and nice and awesome and stuff!”

Mars chuckled at the puppy eyes he gave but just leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“And so are you, especially for doing all this. Thank you, MK.”

His smile quickly returned as he pulled them into another hug, tightly holding them in his arms, shutting his eyes and enjoying the warmth in their voice and their embrace.

“You deserve it.”

[yzzyhee]

lucky three — sjy & psh

bf!jake x fem!bodied yn x bf!sunghoon

warnings: established poly relationships, mlm ( 1 kiss sorry 🧌 ), kisses? idk just fluff mostly (98%) , maybe petnames?? not proofread, anything else lmk!

synopsis: on a rainy afternoon, you and your boyfriends realise how lucky the three of you are to have found each other

wc: 1.4k

a/n: idk guys its just my bday… its been raining for the past two days and i badly need this to happen to me + what aj wrote in her guess who fic 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 read it now.

jake’s arm drapes lazily around your shoulders, while sunghoon’s head rests comfortably on your lap. the three of you fit together as if you have been carved out from the same piece of clay. nothing ever feels incomplete when you are all together.

"tell me again why we decided to stay in today?" jake asks, his voice low but with a playful lilt as he tilts his head toward you. he traces lazy patterns with his fingers along your arm, the touch sending electric warmth through your skin. he is always tactile — always touching, as if afraid you will slip through his fingers.

"because it's raining, and i love the sound of it," you reply softly, your hand brushing through sunghoon’s raven-black hair. he closes his eyes, his lips tugging upward slightly, clearly enjoying the soothing motion of your fingers. sunghoon is quieter — thoughtful; his affection comes in soft waves, almost unnoticeable until you are pulled under and engulfed by the depth of his love.

"you love the rain, but jake hates it," sunghoon finally speaks, his eyes still closed. his voice deep, resonating through the quiet atmosphere of the room.

" i don’t hate it. i just don’t love it like she does," jake teases back, glancing at sunghoon before turning his gaze to you. his eyes, always full of light, sparkle with a mischievous glint.

it has been like this for a while now — your lives intertwined so naturally. your relationship feels like a melody, each of you three contributing with a different note and yet when you’re together, you create the perfect harmony. sunghoon brings calmness and stability, a quiet strength. jake is the warmth, the laughter, the chaos and you’re the centre, grounding them both in a way they never realise they need.

you shift slightly, pulling your legs under you and leaning back into jake’s chest. you sigh, contentment washing over your face like the rain outside.

"you know," you say softly, "i don’t think I've ever been this happy."

jake's fingers stop their movement as he leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple. "that’s because you’ve got both of us," he whispers against your skin, his breath warm.

sunghoon opens his eyes at this, a small smirk playing on his lips. "he’s not wrong," he says, shifting so that he can sit up and face you. his eyes meet yours, dark and intense, but filled with so much love it nearly takes your breath away. "you’re our everything."

you feel a lump form in your throat at his words. it’s moments like this — when they are so open, so raw with their emotions — that remind you just how deep your connection goes. the world outside doesn’t understand it;

some people judge, others whisper behind your backs. but none of that matters when it is just the three of you, like now, tangled in each other’s arms, completely content with the love you have found.

"i still remember the first time we told you," jake says suddenly, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "i thought for sure you’d reject the idea."

"reject you? never," you respond, shaking your head "you know i could never say no to either of you."

sunghoon raises an eyebrow, playful skepticism in his eyes. "you hesitated, though. for a second."

"i didn’t hesitate," you insist, but there is a teasing tone in your voice. "i was just…surprised, that’s all. it’s not every day you realise two guys you love are willing to share a relationship with each other and with you."

"and you never looked back," jake adds with a grin, his eyes filled with pride. "you belong with us."

sunghoon’s hand finds yours, gently pulling it into his lap, thumb tracing the back of your hand. his touch is always soothing, like an anchor in a storm. "we belong with you, too," he corrects, his voice tender.

your relationship is unconventional — some would even say complicated. but it isn’t for you. for you, sunghoon and jake it’s something as natural as breathing. there are no jealousy-fueled fights, no insecurities you haven’t already talked through. communication has always been your greatest strength. yes, it isn’t always easy, but you make it work because none of you can imagine life any other way.

"you two are everything to me," you say softly, looking between them. "i mean it. i don’t care what anyone else says."

jake's hand tightens on your shoulder, pulling you even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "we’re yours. always."

sunghoon nods, his expression soft but serious. "we’re in this for the long haul, yn. you know that, right?"

"i know," you whisper, your heart swelling with emotion. "and i wouldn’t have it any other way."

the rain outside seems to slow, softening into a light drizzle as if mirroring the quiet calm that has settled over the room. jake’s eyes meet sunghoon’s, a silent understanding passing between them before jake speaks.

jake’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries all the weight of the moment. “come here,” he says, his fingers lightly tilting your chin to face him.

shift slightly, your heart racing with a mix of anticipation and love that bubbles beneath the surface. the connection between the three of you is palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. jake’s lips brush against yours in the softest of kisses — tender, almost hesitant. it’s sweet, gentle and yet it sends shivers down your spine, the kind that makes you melt into him even further.

sunghoon watches quietly, his dark eyes studying the two of you with a calm intensity. there’s no jealousy, only a quiet reverence for the love you share. after a moment, he reaches out, his hand resting on the side of your face, guiding you toward him. his lips meet yours next, the kiss deeper, slower. where jake’s kiss was light and playful, sunghoon’s is grounding — steady, like him. his thumb caresses your cheek as he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, both of you breathing in sync.

"you’re so beautiful," sunghoon murmurs, his voice deep and quiet.

jake presses a kiss to your shoulder before leaning back into the couch, watching the two of you with a soft smile. “i could stay like this forever,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet but only adding to the warmth surrounding all three of you. “just the three of us, like this.”

you let out a soft laugh, leaning into the warmth of jake’s chest and resting a hand on sunghoon’s knee. “we really do fit together, don’t we?”

sunghoon nods in agreement, his fingers running absentmindedly along the hem of your shirt, a comforting gesture. “perfectly,” he says softly, almost as if he’s still amazed by how seamlessly you all connect.

jake chuckles, his hand slipping down to intertwine with yours. “we’re like puzzle pieces. weird, unconventional puzzle pieces, but we fit.” his grin widens, eyes sparkling mischievously. “and no one else can figure it out but us.”

the three of you share a soft laugh, the kind that fills the room with a warmth even the rain can’t dampen. outside, the storm has softened to a gentle drizzle, the rhythmic patter of raindrops on the window creating a peaceful lullaby.

sunghoon leans in again, this time pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before turning to jake. there’s a pause, an unspoken invitation hanging between them before jake smiles and leans forward. their kiss is unhurried, filled with a mutual tenderness and understanding that never fails to make your heart swell. when they part it’s with a soft sigh, their foreheads resting together for just a moment longer.

you watch them, feeling a deep sense of contentment settle in your chest, you’ve never felt more at peace, more loved than in moments like these — wrapped in the arms of the two people who mean the world to you.

“let’s stay like this a little longer,” you suggest quietly, not ready to break the spell of the lazy afternoon.

jake chuckles softly, pulling you closer to him. “i’m not going anywhere.”

sunghoon hums in agreement, his thumb still tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. “we’re right where we’re supposed to be.”

and with that, the three of you settle back into the quiet comfort of each other’s embrace, the rain outside fading into the background as your world becomes nothing but the love and warmth that you share.

it’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are — to have found not just one, but two souls that complete you in ways you never thought possible.

[marokra]

something about movieverse Sage interests me. i’ve seen a lot of concepts, theories, and ideas thrown around and i adore every single one of them, but honestly i have to wonder why Sage would be created in the first place.

Both she and Stone are both driven by the same thing—loyalty, the only difference being that the former’s coding had that as it’s basis. fundementally, at least from movie 1 Robotnik’s point of view, they serve the same purpose, to protect him, to serve his whims and carry out orders to a tee. having two while only one worked perfectly fine would be redundant, again, from his pov, therefore there wouldn’t be any reason to pursue Sage’s creation. well, unless there was some sort of need.

maybe she was created to assist Robotnik on that mushroom planet, or as a post-sonic 3 thing with fix-it fic undertones.

maybe she was a years-old passion project, some scrapped lines of code he never had the time or purpose to pursue, as she wasn’t particularly needed. he didn’t need a hyperintelligent ai that was built purely to protect and aid him, as Stone did that job well enough already, despite being oh-so-painfully human. so that leads me to wonder which circumstances would drive Robotnik to pursue this dead end, to finish what he started.

there’s a lot of possibilities that could lead to it, honestly. mainly driven from the idea of separation, at least how i see it.

maybe he based her personality on Stone, just a little, most likely unintentionally. deriving from his loyalty, maybe a stray mannerism here and there. Sage, once sentient, once she gets introduced to him, i feel like she’d start to notice the little similarities within her code.

not much gets past an AI, really. she noticed the agent’s quirks, and upon doing a deep dive of her own code, she’d come to realize she had ended up adopting those same mannerisms, that unwavering loyalty towards her father, despite not having known the agent long enough for the mirroring to kick in. it intrigues her. what about the man would drive her father to allow her to mimic him? to deem those traits important enough to include in her code?

but as she kept observing, cataloguing even the simplest of things; like the way he made lattes, his thinly veiled distaste for humanity, and the way he looked at her father like he was the embodiment of the scorching, sharp, yet ever so radiant sun, was when the pieces started to fall into place.

noticing the things that her father loved about his assistant (even though he would deny it to hell and back if she brought up her hypothesis) answered her questions quite clearly.

she knew regular children take on the image of both of their parents. and if her theory was correct, maybe she would come to see Agent Stone as her father, too.