#more like scenes from the supposed fanfic idea

[toomanyplotbunnies-sendhelp]

MDZS Magic Kaito AU (funny?) Heist Scene:

Yiling Laozu (aka WWX): Ladies and gentlemen... - or better said "Gentlemen and gentlemen," for I see no ladies around on such a fine night - it is a pleasure to see you all again. *looks over at the angry policemen around, and his eyes land on Lan Wangji* Oho~ my dearest detective, you showed up! *looks around again pitifully* And yet I do not see your uncle here. May I inquire about his well being?

Lan Wangji: Hm.

Yiling Laozu, a bit more sofly: Oh... Then I wish your uncle speedy recovery. Getting a cold at his age must be tough.

Lan Wangji: Hm.

Yiling Laozu: Yes, yes. Don't worry, I am not making fun of your uncle. Please do tell him that heists without him are a bit too quiet for my liking, however. I do look forward to the next heist, at which he will hopefully participate.

Lan Wangji: Hm.

The (forgotten) police officers/police task force around them: What in the word is this conversation?

[thebiggerbear]

where is she?

Summary: Soldier Boy only has one thought in mind when Homelander wakes him up: you.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Wrote this on July 29th. This was meant to be a drabble and I was going to experiment with a different format at the time but after taking another look at it close to a month later, I decided against it. I haven't seen Season 4 of The Boys yet but I did see a gif on here of something from the finale in regards to SB. This idea popped into my head that day and I wrote it out. Starts from the Tower scene in 3x08, an AU. Unbeta'd. Full dialogue in text is from 3x08.

Warnings: drug use; violence; violence against a woman; choking (not Butcher/Boys friendly)

Word Count: 1019

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy

@solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @faephoria

@believeinthefireflies95; @globetrotter28

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @rebel-paladin; @deans-spinster-witch

@bts24; @roseblue373; @nancymcl; @c1gs-coffee; @peachhiz

@kickingitwithkirk; @fanfic-n-tabulous; @illicithallways; @mentallyillandgae

You can also read on AO3

You burst into the room from the stairwell, finding Ben trying to fight three of your new supposed teammates off, his eyes full of fury and a slight tinge of fear immediately finding you as they slipped a mask over his face. “I’m not…going back…in that fucking box!”

“Get off of him! Now!” You angrily yelled, energy pulsing from your hands as you tried to rush them when Butcher caught you off guard and knocked you into a wall on his way to get to Ryan. 

“Sorry, luv.” His expression was full of trace amounts of remorse as he turned from you but you didn’t care. Your attention was on Ben alone.

When Ben saw you slam into the wall, even more fury seemed to emanate from him and he was finally able to push everyone off. His chest was a bright pulsing red that continued to get brighter and brighter; he was charged up and he was about to blow.

“You’ll kill everyone!” Starlight implored.

Ben’s expression didn’t change and you knew you had to get to him before he went off. You didn’t care about any of them, especially now, and you didn’t care for yourself. But Ben you cared about and you wouldn’t let him do this — not again. 

“Ben!” You called. 

Within the seconds it took for you to get to your feet, Maeve was already launching herself at him and they crashed through the window of the high rise, plummeting stories below. “No!” You rushed to the edge, watching their freefall in horror. “BEN!” You screamed before the impact of the explosion sent you careening backwards.   

When Soldier Boy was woken for the second time, uncaring who was there to greet him, he only had one question. “Where is she?”

America’s Asshole of a Son, now suited up, stared out at the city from Homelander’s newly renovated suite. His own son watched him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.

“It could all be ours, you know.”

“Don’t care,” Soldier Boy growled out. “Where’s Butcher?”

Homelander sighed in disappointment and approached. He didn’t know much about the man whose blood he shared but one thing was for certain: Soldier Boy was laser focused when it came to revenge. He just happened to be focused on the wrong thing.

When he reached the older man, he studied him for a moment before nearly rolling his eyes. “You actually loved her.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Soldier Boy turned a lethal glare onto him, his pupils dilated from the drugs coursing through his system that he’d just snorted, but it still caught him a little off guard. Homelander didn’t feel shame or remorse; those were human feelings and he was a god. But right then, he felt like a small child scolded by that dark gaze and his shoulders subconsciously lowered an inch.

“Find me Butcher or I will find him on my own,” the Supe threatened before walking away. Homelander watched him go, angry that even while dead you somehow still managed to fuck with his plans.

Right before Soldier Boy was about to strike a killing blow to Butcher, Hughie yelled, “She’s alive!” The Supe froze and turned a scowl onto Butcher’s dickrest. 

“I promise,” the bitch insisted. “I can tell you where she is! Just don’t kill him. Please.”

Soldier Boy’s glare dropped to the man swaying in his hold, his face bloodied, bruised, and swollen. The supe's jaw tensed and he dropped the man to the ground, making him a silent promise that he would still pay for his betrayal, before his eyes landed on Hughie. “Take me to her. And you better be telling me the fucking truth or you’re never going to get to feel the warmth of this fucker’s mouth again.”

Hughie’s eyes widened but he gave a nod. A hint of a smirk teased the corner of Soldier Boy’s lips for a moment and then disappeared completely. Before following the bitch out the door, he gave Butcher one last kick for good measure.

Soldier Boy tightened his grip on Grace Mallory’s throat and lifted her body higher up the wall. He ignored Hughie’s whiny pleas of not hurting the old bitch. “Open it,” he ordered. “Now.”

Hughie did just that. The supe could hear a whirring sound behind him and he intensified his glare at the woman he was currently choking out before turning to look over his shoulder. Out of a drawer, a cryotube emerged, looking quite different from the one he had been in when his pussy of a son had found him. His breath caught in his chest when he saw you inside, slumbering peacefully, tubes wrapped around your barely dressed body. Rage began to flow through his veins when he realized that you had been stocked away inside a fucking sock drawer like a second thought — like you had never mattered. You were the only thing that mattered.

He turned back to Mallory, gritting his teeth, and his body shaking with fury. He saw the lack of fear in her eyes and in a split second, his decision had been made. He flung her across the room, not caring about the sickening cracks he heard when she made impact. For good measure, when Hughie tried to run to her aid, he brutally knocked the kid aside and made his way towards you. Within seconds, he had the cryotube open and he ripped the wires from your body. He curled his arm around your shoulders and carefully hoisted you up into his lap.

A few heartbeats later, your eyes slowly began to open, your lashes fluttering repeatedly as you returned to consciousness. Your gaze struggled for a minute to focus on the image in front of you but when it did, you rasped out in disbelief, “Ben?”

A soft smile played upon his lips as he ferried your hand to his bearded cheek. “Yeah, doll. It’s me.” 

When you attempted to return his smile, he leaned down to whisper, “I found you,” before he gently pressed his mouth to yours.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[ghostyeyestohide]

I Put A Spell On You

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Valerie (Plus Size Black Fem OC)

Warnings: SMUT (not too extreme), 18+ (MINORS, SCROLL AWAY), buildup (if you got the attention span of a squirrel, DONT READ), titty fondling, oral sex (f receiving, m receiving), bisexuality (from m), masturbation, slight edging, spitting, slapping, smoking, choking, striptease, some femdom, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, cussing, aftercare, mentioning of death, a hint of voyeurism (from Junior), and Non-Canon.

Parts: Part Two • Part Three

Summary: After a day of examining Junior, Terrance returns home for a sit down dinner with his wife, Valerie, who wants to do a little more afterwards.

A/N: So, I basically restarted this app with a new account just to snoop around and read smut. I noticed that Aaron became even more popular now, and since there is already a lot of Terry fics, I thought it would be perfect for me to finally show my idea of how I think Foe should’ve went if I was in the writers room as someone who has seen the movie and read the book. I’m making this a two (or four) part series as I got the perfect bisexual hookup scene for Terrance, Junior, and OC since Ian and Garth didn’t want to give it to us in the movie, so that’s otw! And this is a one time thing as I been retired for a decade from fanfic (smut) writing, so ENJOY!

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do not copy or repost my work. I do not authorize it.

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Valerie was in the kitchen, spreading parmesan and fresh basil on top of the toasted cheesy garlic bread when she heard a car pulling up in the driveway. She walks to the window near the door, pulling the curtain back a little to see who it was.

The sounds of the door unlocking is heard, with it lifting up. Out comes Terrance, her husband and OuterMore’s hardest worker. He looked exhausted in his light brown top, black slacks, and black dress shoes, but happy. She smiles, walking towards the door to greet him.

“And there’s my beautiful girl in her pretty, ruffled dress.” Terrance states as he walked through the door, smiling as he puts his suitcase down and pulls her into an embrace.

Valerie chuckles before placing her lips over his, giving him a long but sweet kiss, to which he responds by doing the same.

“Sounds like someone had a good day today.” says Valerie, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking at him.

“Yes, I did. Love to tell you about it over dinner because my word, it smells wonderful in here.” he replies, getting a chuckle out of the both of them.

“Oh stop! It’s nothing crazy, just spaghetti with meatballs, cheesy garlic bread, some Caesar salad with the crisp parmesan, and that bottle of white wine you got from your previous assignment.” she replies sly, tracing her finger over his shirt.

“And I’m guessing you’re the dessert?” he asked in a low, seductive tone that enhances his British accent well while rubbing over her curves. Valerie laughs as she pecks his nose with a kiss.

“I mean…..I could be that, but I was looking forward to eating my homemade lemon loaf, drenched in homemade lemon buttercream, with that vanilla ice cream I also made, but we can go with your first option!” she responds with a smile.

“Dont tempt me with temptation already out there, Val.” he replies, kissing her again.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Terrance stammers, looking for the correct thing to say.

“You know I’m talking about that cake, dear. But, I’ll go change so I don’t keep you waiting. I am hungry after all!” Terrance exclaimed, kissing her one more time before going up the stairs to their room.

“Hurry! I’m not one to be waited on, Terrance!” she replied jokingly as she picks up his suitcase and places it on the living room table before walking back to the kitchen.

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As the couple ate their dinner and drank their wine, Valerie started first with how she spent her day crocheting new clothes for herself to wear, reading some books, and prepared the food as Terrance talked about what him and Junior did, from him watching him do farm work to doing scans on his body for measurements, assuring he has everything that the real Junior gave them.

“And then, I had dinner with them. Of course, I didn’t eat as I told them you were cooking, just some wine and whatnot. For some odd reason, Junior started going off.” said Terrance as he bit into his slice of lemon loaf and ice cream.

“Going off?” asked Valerie, very confused since he told her he was perfectly fine all day.

“I told them the trip to the space station is coming sooner and he knew this when I told him on the farm. But now, he was mad, saying “I don’t want a robot living with my wife!” angrily and demanding that we go outside and fight.”

“With a broken arm?” she asked as she ate some of her slice. Terrance nods as he dranked some of his wine.

“You had to be there to get it. It was a bit scary, but…..it was very indecent that he was doing all of that while not looking at Hen not once.”

“Hm.” she nodded, looking down at her bowl.

“And what was Hen doing by the way?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh. She was trying to calm him down. Saying “do the fight test with me, not him” blah blah, and then, I can’t remember the exact words, she said something and he basically called her stupid. I laughed, which I shouldn’t have and she got mad at me. So, she got up from the table, crawled across it slightly, and slapped me…..” Terrance replied, with his voice going quiet with the last few words.

Valerie sat there expressionless, taking in the words that just came out of her husband’s mouth. Hen slapped Terrance kept replaying in her mind, slowly adding to the burning sensation that was growing inside her. Finally, she got up and put her bowl in the sink.

“Val, are you oka—“

“You let that miserable bitch slap you…..you let Hen, who changes emotions like she has a permanent period, slap you?!” Valerie cuts him off, looking at him with anger all over her.

Terrance gets up, slowly walks up to her in order to not make her even more mad.

“You have to understand: I deserved that slap. He basically insulted her and I had no business laughing!” he responded with.

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re the one who insulted her, she had no right to put her hands on you! And you’re calm about it?” she said, slamming her hands on the island in front of her, startling Terrance.

Valerie shakes her head, thinking if he should continue his assignment of watching Junior and Hen or stay home permanently for her sanity.

“I can’t do anything or we’ll accidentally reveal what he truly is.” he replies, throwing his hands up. Valerie scoffs, just in shock at how calm he’s being about this.

“Why couldn’t she take it out on her walking sex toy since he the one who said it? You’re the not the one in a loveless marriage.” she states.

“……do you see yourself as that?” he asked her.

“In a loveless marriage?”

“No. What you called him.”

“…..no. I’m just…..ugh. How can you hate your actual husband, but fucking on a replica of him?. Is it love? Is it hate? Or is she just confused…..” she said, stopping in her tracks before looking away from Terrance.

Terrance looks back at her confused, trying to figure out how would his wife know that if he never told her much about Hen. Then, it hit him.

“…..you been reading my files behind my back again. After I told you not to do that”

Valerie lets out a cold laugh before looking at Terrance again, tears swelling up in her eyes.

“That’s the only way I can keep pretending to live the life the real Valerie would be as the man, who makes endless promises to not push her to the side, fawns over his growing sexual attraction to his newest assignment in Junior.” she responds with, tears now falling down her face.

Terrance exhales quietly, leans up against the counter as he faces away from her.

“You read that in the notes, huh.”

“…..is it true? Or are you just toying with him and keeping proof?”

Terrance sighs, rubbing his face as he stands near the island in front of her. Taking in what she said, he pulls out a cigarette, lights it up and smokes it, blowing the smoke away from her.

“Okay. I am attracted to him. I’ll admit it.” he replies.

Valerie wipes her tears, inhaling and exhaling quietly before clearing her throat.

“Always knew the minute you can home and told me about meeting them. The way you mention his name, what he does, how he acts, his instant rejection to being chosen to go to space…….almost similar to Valerie’s story. Which I’m assuming you have yet to mention that to them.” she said, locking eyes with him.

“They don’t need to know that.”

“Why not? Will it make things worse when you ask him to run away with you?”

He looks at her in disbelief, caught off guard with what she just said.

“If you think I’m leaving you for him, I’m not. I can’t have any type of sexual contact with any of our subjects or I get terminated. And they take you back since you’re their property. You knew this the minute you were made.” he says, blowing more smoke out.

Valerie looks down, slightly embarrassed about throwing that accusation out. She was afraid that he was going to risk everything by being with Junior, putting everyone in danger. Terrance blows out smoke one more time before tossing the cigarette and stands in front of Valerie.

“Hey.” he gently holds her chin up, looking into her eyes. “I can’t throw off this feeling I get when I’m around him. He just brings something I never seen in other subjects out of me. But, I have control. You know me too well for me to abandon you like that.”

He wraps his hand around Valerie’s face, wiping away tears as he kisses her.

“Those notes don’t mean shit to me right now. You do. You’re the only thing I have left of her, replica or not. You been with me all these years and never once have I ever did anything that seemed like I don’t value you anymore. I never forgot about the things you love, the things you do, and the things I do for you that make you happy. I always go home to you, which OuterMore hates since it violates the ‘staying at the subject’s house’ rule, but I refused to let you be here all alone out here. And this won’t change that.” he says as he begins to rub on her body.

“I know you’re being genuine, but this……this is becoming an obsession and it needs to stop.” she responds, pointing at Terrance’s suitcase on the table.

He laughs, gently rubbing his hands all over her body as Valerie tries to fight against it, but fails.

“I’m serious, Terrance.” she states, gently pushing him back.

Terrance turns Valerie around, with her back against him as he has her pressed against the sink. He begins placing soft kisses all over her back and neck, making her let out some soft moans.

“He’ll be home soon. That Junior will go back to the factory and we’ll move on from all of this. It will always be just the two of us. You. Just. Need. To. Trust. Me. Val.” he responds, with each sentence and word ending with a kiss as he slowly lowers himself to his knees, positioning himself in front of Valerie’s ass. He starts tracing over her legs, brushing closer and closer to her pulsating heat.

“Uh-uh” she responds, placing her right foot against his chest and gently pushing him back, creating some distance as she turns around.

“I can’t get a taste first?” he asked, looking into her eyes with a pathetic, begging look.

She shakes her head ‘no’. “Go sit on the couch.” she says as she gently removes her foot from his chest.

Terrance smirks before carefully getting up and walking to the couch. She grabs their wine glasses, pouring the remaining bottle in each one before bringing it over to where he’s seated at.

She places his glass on the table before walking over to their vinyl player, turning it on before placing the needle on the disc, tuning the volume as the song begins to play:

Turning around to face Terrance, who has his wine in his hand now, she begins dancing seductively while drinking, hitting her marks as she lipsync to the voice of Nina Simone.

I put a spell on you

Cause you’re mine as she points at him, earning a smile back from him, who is slowly becoming even more aroused at her movements.

As she slowly walks over to stand in his view, she notices a male stranger is standing outside of their window near the door, watching them. He looked intrigued, with his messy clothes, dark brown hair, Roman-sculpted face and piercing blue eyes staring at her. Noticing a bandaged arm wrapped against his chest, she realizes who this stranger is.

“Junior,” she said in her mind.

“Everything okay, baby?” said Terrance, very concerned for why she stopped suddenly.

She snaps back into motion, not mentioning to him that his subject is also watching her do a dance that’s only meant for his eyes. She doesn’t seem to care, only focusing on showing where the love should always be.

You know I can’t stand it

You’re running around

You know better, daddy as she gently sits in front of him on the table, placing her glass on her left. She begins to untie the knot on her strings that hold her breasts up, letting the top fall down to expose them.

He leans forward, tempted to touch her, but she slaps his hand away, belting out the next part:

I put a spell on you

Because you’re mine as she stands up and walks behind the table.

You’re mine as she removes the rest of her dress, leaving her in just her lacy underwear. She gestures him to remove his clothes, but play with himself afterwards.

Now even more aroused, he complies with her order, gently taking out his semi-hard length and begins jacking off slowly, growing with each stroke.

Sipping her wine, she locks eyes with Junior to see if he’s still watching. To her amusement, he was, gently breathing against the window while slowly stroking himself. This is exactly what she wanted to happen: two men who are avoiding each other to not violate the rules both salivating over her. Just one gets to fully experience her as the other one watches.

I love you, I love you as she sits in a chair that faces Terrance, rolling her hips as he watches with hunger in his eyes.

I love you, I love you anyhow

I don’t care if you don’t want me as she gently removes her panties.

I’m yours right now as she tosses them towards him.

Oh you hear me

I put a spell on you as she opens her legs, exposing her glistening bliss towards him, gesturing him to come to her, but slowly.

Terrance gets up, walking towards her as she gently rubs her clit, looking at his girthy, long length swinging back and forth.

Because you’re mine as he kneels in front of her, giving her a fat sloppy kiss before moving down towards her pussy, placing his mouth over her slit, making her inhale loudly at the friction of being touched.

He begins to flick his tongue in and out, burying his face deeper in between as she places her hands on his head, gently pushing it down a bit more.

“Wow, you really were hunger.” she laughs before being replaced by her moans.

He hums on it to vibrate around her, gently rubbing her folds with one hand as the other creeps up to her breasts, gently rubbing them.

“Fuck…you’re so good when you’re on your knees, pleasing me.” she whispered as she exhaled loudly when he inserts one finger inside, gently rubbing at her spot that she likes that he hits while fucking her.

As he adds another finger inside and speeds up the pace, she looks at Junior once more, see his self pleasuring has sped up too. There shouldn’t be a reason that Val is enjoying this so much, being devoured by a man who helped create her to replace the emptiness of his deceased wife as a replica of another watches them hungrily, desperately wanting to join them.

“I’m getting closer and close—oh, fuck!” she exclaims as Terrance begins sucking hard on her clit, repeatedly plunges his fingers inside her, watching her squirm with his eyes locked on her.

After her moans grow louder and louder, she finally releases, the sensation washing all over her and Terrance’s face. After a few minutes of regaining herself, he removes his face from her, which is covered in her essence.

“Come here.” he mumbled as he gently pulls her up for another sloppy kiss, mixing in her juices with her mouth. She responds by kissing him back harder, gently wrapping her hand around his length and stroking it, causing him to groan.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. You know that, right?” he says, throwing his head back as she strokes around his tip.

Valerie gives an ‘mmhm’ as she places kisses all over Terrance’s chest and abs, leaving a few marks as she trails lower and lower to his length. She lets go, tracing it with her tongue before engulfing him into her mouth, making him let out a soft moan.

“Just like that.” he says as he gently grabs a fistful of her curls before she slaps his hand away.

“I mentioned you have to work for it. That means no touching me and following my orders.” she said as she looks up at him, stroking his length in her hands.

“You let me eat you out. And push me down into it.”

“That’s your job. Being on your knees for me and me only.”

Terrance chuckles quietly, nodding his head as Valerie continues sucking him, gently massaging his balls as she strokes the rest of what she can’t fit into her mouth.

She looks out the corner of her eyes to see if Junior was still watching, but noticed his disappearance. I guess he couldn’t bare to see more of something he can’t touch physically. She looks up at Terrance and begins bobbing her head & hands faster, going off the adrenaline that sudden decided to pop inside her.

“You’re gonna make me bust fast, doing that.” he groaned, tensing up at his growing climax inside him.

Valerie laughed, speeding up the pace. Terrance began letting out some expletive, hinting that he’s near. Just as it was about to release, she stopped just in time, with him inhaling and exhaling hard.

“Told you you’re working for it.” she says, winking at him before letting it go and laying back in the chair. He laughs slyly, licking his lips as he examined her body. Her curves fit in the right places, her skin glowed like she was a diamond, and her busty elements enhanced her beauty. She was the perfect woman for him and he wouldn’t give that up for anything. Not even him.

“Where do you want me to be?” he asked, gently stroking himself.

Valerie repositions herself, put each leg on the post of chair, exposing her heat like she did previously before he ate her out. She gently taps her pussy, gesturing him to insert there first. She was eager to feel him inside her, waiting enough to get what she wanted.

He nodded, lining himself up to her entrance. Before he inserted, he let out a long trail of his spit out of his mouth, using his tip to rub it all over her clit and lips. He then inserted himself inside, both lovers letting out a loud gasp as she instantly clenched around him. He gripped her legs, gently moving his hips to get her adjusted.

“No matter how many times we make love, mm,….it still feels like you’re getting bigger and bigger each time.” she whispered, gently scratching over his abs.

“Oh yeah?” he asked before pushing all of him inside her, lifting her legs towards her chest. Valerie gasps, taken aback by the sudden move. He laughs before gently kissing her face, swaying his hips around a bit.

“What do you want me to do now? Since you’re in charge.” he mumbles against her cheek.

“You know how I like it. Don’t overexceed it.” she replies before moving his right hand around her neck, keeping both her hands wrapped around it.

He starts with a quick thrust, causing her to let out a low moan. Then, he picks up the pace a bit, continuously slamming his pelvis into her thighs. He squeezes her throat a bit as his thrusts become even more aggressive, making her let out a bunch of lewd sounds she never thought she could make mixing in with the sounds of her wetness being poked fills the living room.

“Fuck, you’re gonna break me, Terra-mmhm! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she yelled as he hit her sweet spot over and over, moaning louder.

Terrance puts his left hand on top of the chair, holding it in place as he continued fucking her, slowly building up both of their releases as Valerie becomes a pleasure mess under him.

“Come on and let me release, Val. I already got your release coming and I’m not too far behind you.” he states as he looks down at her, giving her deep thrusts.

She lets out a hoarse chuckle before being cut off by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming, feeling herself on the edge of release. Just as it was about to occur, she pulls his length out, feeling it beating hard in her hand.

Terrance, puffing very hard, looked at her in disbelief, once again being denied release. He scoffs sarcastically, gently rubbing her breasts.

“You’re making me work hard for mines, you’re denying your own.” he said.

“Makes this even more fun. And worth the wait. Now lay across the table.” she replied, gently pushing him off her.

He bits his lip as he walks towards the table, grabbing a few pillows and placing them on it before laying onto, carefully positioning himself.

“Hands above head.” she says as she gets up.

He obliges, placing his hands above, anticipating what she’s gonna tell him to do next. The cool air in the air, settles on his skin, creating goosebumps as his heated length slightly moves up and down, yearning to be touched again.

As she walks over slowly, something in the window between the kitchen and the living room (by the fireplace) catches her eye. She notice its Junior instantly, admiring her and him. Had he been standing there the whole time or does he moves to get a better a view of the show?

Becoming even more aroused, she kneels down in front of Terrance, beginning to place a trail of kisses, from his thighs to his length to his chest to his neck and lastly, his mouth, positioning herself on top of him. She sits up, looking down at the man, who’s looking at her with a dark glare in his eyes.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me? she asks, slightly moving her hips to grind on his length, making his hands and mouth twitch.

“Mmhm.” is all he could get out, fighting real hard to not touch her.

Suddenly, she slaps him across his face. It wasn’t hard, but with the way she gasped, that wasn’t her intention at all. Trying to play it off, she wraps her left hand around his throat, squeezing it. He lets out a stifled groan, breathing hard as the stinging brewed on his cheek.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, not a sound. So let me ask you again: are you going to be a good boy for me?” she asks, tilting down towards him.

“Yes. Yes. I am going to be a good bo—“ he’s cut off by her lowering herself onto his length, causing him to buck his hips upwards.

“Fix yourself right now. Or you don’t get a release.”

He relaxes, letting his hips lie down as she begins moving her hips back and forth, creating a aphrodisiac motion that makes her moan his name a few times and praising how good he’s making her feel right now.

“Touch me up here and look at your art, please.” she cries out as she pulls his hands towards her breasts, letting go of his throat. She looks at him quickly, who is mesmerized at what she’s doing, before look back at him, slamming herself down on him again.

Terrance gently massages them, breathing hard as he was in awe at how much she’s enjoying doing this. Every bounce, every speed, every curve, every moan, he was happy that this was pleasing her as much as it’s pleasing him. He can feel her release building up again as she begins to slow down her pace.

“Mm. Can you…can you finish……” she asks as she collapses onto his chest, breathing hard. He chuckled, amused that she lasted almost close to her release.

“Do I have permission to receive my release?” he asks, gently massaging her back.

“Yes. You deserve it, finally.” she replies in an exhausting manner.

He kisses her forehead before hooking his arms under her legs, picking her up as he stands up, not fully removing her from his length. He gently lays them on the couch, positioning a pillow under her before he started to pound her, causing her to let out some screams.

“Not so dominant after slapping the shit of me, huh?” he asked, aligning himself face-to-face with her as he wrapped his hands around her neck, still having her legs hooked in his arms.

Valerie lets out a stifled ‘no’, moaning loud as she watches his length go in and out of her, feeling like she’s losing oxygen at the sensation.

“Play with yourself for me. I wanna see this beautiful pussy cumming all over me, this masterpiece of a body shake, making its mark as I fill you up. Can you do that for me, Val?” he whispered as he deepens his thrusts, sweat dripping down his face and body on her, who is in a daze with her body’s reaction.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” she yells as finally, while rubbing her clit, her release washes over her, causing her to shake unbearably and squirt all over him and the couch.

Terrance moans “that’s my girl” as he thrusts a few more times before releasing inside her, letting out grunts as his load pumps into her womb, laying on top of her until he was finished.

The couple laid in silence, calmly rubbing each other, for a few minutes before Terrance removes himself from her, both groaning at the separation. He gets up and goes to a different room, disappearing for a few minutes.

As she waits for him to return, she looks again to see if he was still watching. He was gone this time, taking what he saw with him back home. She smiled, knowing this about to be so awkward when they finally meet.

A wiping between her legs snaps her out of her thoughts. She looks up and see Terrance, wearing a robe now, wiping off any juices or sweat with a wet cloth. He sits her up, lays a robe near, as he walked to the dirty laundry basket, tosses the cloth in there before walking to the kitchen. He grabs the both of them a bottle of water and sits next to her, taking out a cigarette to smoke.

“Drink.” he whispered, handing her a bottle.

Valerie nods, taking it and sipping some of it. She grabs the robe and puts it on as he lit his cigarette.

“Anything feel loose? Feeling low on your fluid? I can go grab your case so you can change your tab.” he said.

She shakes her ‘no’, tying the robe string around her waist to close it. She leans over to give him a few kisses, placing some over his face.

“…I’m sorry for slapping you.” she says, giving him puppy eyes.

“You’re good. You were just in your element, that’s all.” he replied, puffing out smoke.

“You sure? Cause I can see my hand mark slowly forming on your face.” she said, leaning over as she traced it with her fingers.

“At least you marked your territory.” he responded with, making both of them laugh.

Valerie laid on Terrance’s shoulder, slowly closing her eyes as she is exhausted from the partaking she did. He gently traces over her thighs, looking down at her.

“Did you see something out there while we were making love?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“You kept looking at something towards the window for a few moments. Was there something there?”

“….no. I think I was….getting myself caught in my own spell. And I kinda like it.”

“Glad you do. It makes you even more hotter.”

She feels him smile against her head before he placed a kiss on it, continuing his smoke as she fell asleep on him, tiredness finally taken over her. He looks at his suitcase again, thinking about what the next few weeks here is gonna look like.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A/N II: Started this at 8 PM on Saturday and I finished it this morning. This is how you know I’m a writer with experience (writing fanfics, essays, screenplays, reviews of film and tv) because I cannot believe I wrote all this in two days.

Part 2 is currently in progress and it is now a four part, but two of them will be like a little emotional so I can show a little more of my writing in screenplays style.

If you want to be tagged in it when I publish it, let me know so I can make a list. Have a good day/night, everyone! 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

[brunchable]

POV: You're sucked into your fanfic - Part One

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fanfic Writer Reader.

Themes: Comedy - Chaotic Reader. Action scenes.

Summary: Waking up in a forest straight out of her own fanfic was not on Y/N's to-do list, especially not when she’s suddenly the villain about to fight Bucky Barnes. Decked out in an impractical gothic outfit, complete with a corset she can barely breathe in, Y/N realizes she’s written herself into a showdown she’s destined to lose. But instead of following the plot, she’s fangirling while getting her butt kicked by her fictional crush—and making things even worse with every sarcastic comment. Bucky thinks she’s insane. Y/N thinks she’s in heaven. What could possibly go wrong?

A/N: Isn't this anyone's dream? LOL to live your favorite fanfic LMAO.

You yawn as you type away on your laptop, the dim light of your screen the only illumination in the room. It’s late—way too late—and your bed calls to you, but you’re deep in the middle of a new scene for your latest Bucky Barnes fanfic. This one is different. This one is more intense, more dramatic. You smirk at the screen as you write your villainess character, who’s about to have a showdown with none other than Bucky.

“I’ll finish this tomorrow,” you tell yourself, half-heartedly knowing that you won’t. You glance at the clock and wince at the time. Ugh, work in the morning... okay, just five more minutes.

But even as you type that last line, exhaustion takes over, and your eyelids droop heavily. Before you know it, your fingers still on the keyboard, your head hits the pillow, and the world fades to black.

× × × ×

You wake up with a start, a cold breeze biting at your skin. Sitting up abruptly, you blink against the sudden brightness of your surroundings. Trees? The smell of wet earth? Slowly, you stand, your heart racing as you take in the unfamiliar scene around you.

Wait... This looks familiar. Too familiar.

The clearing. The night. The ominous, misty forest that surrounds you. No way...

The scene clicks in your head. This is the exact setting of your fanfic. The one where your villainess has her big moment—where she’s supposed to face Bucky in an epic, final showdown.

“Okay... maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe I’m still asleep,” you mumble to yourself, rubbing your eyes. But the cold wind is sharp, the sounds of the forest too real. You frown and glance down at yourself.

Your stomach drops.

You’re not wearing your usual pajamas. Instead, you’re decked out in a gothic nightmare of an outfit. Long black cloak, intricately laced corset, and leather boots that look cool in theory but are so tight you can barely walk. You tug at the uncomfortable collar of your dress, feeling more like a cosplayer gone wrong than a terrifying villain.

“Oh no. No, no, no...” You spin around, trying to figure out what’s happening. “This can’t be happening. I did not just wake up in my own fanfic!”

But before you can even begin to comprehend your situation, a voice cuts through the trees. A voice you know all too well.

“Give it up, villain. You’re not going to win.”

Your breath hitches, and you freeze. Slowly, you turn around to see none other than Bucky Barnes, in all his intimidating glory, walking out from the shadows, his metal arm gleaming under the moonlight.

Holy crap, he’s real. He’s actually real.

But there’s one problem. He’s looking at you like you’re his enemy.

“Well?” Bucky’s deep voice breaks through your panicked thoughts. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

Your mind goes blank. All those hours spent imagining this very moment, and now that it’s happening, all you can do is stand there, gawking like an idiot.

“I, uh... look, Bucky—” you start, but then it hits you. You’re the villain in this story. The bad guy. He has no idea you’re just a fanfic writer who’s been plopped into this nightmare.

You quickly glance around for an escape route. But there’s nothing except more trees, mist, and darkness. No way out. And then you remember what comes next in the story. The fight scene. A scene you wrote yourself... with the villain—you—losing.

Oh god. I am so screwed.

Trying to think fast, you wave your hands in surrender. “Wait, wait, wait! We don’t have to do this. Can we just, like, talk about this?”

Bucky’s eyes narrow, suspicion clear on his face. He takes a step closer, hand twitching toward his gun. “Nice try. I know your tricks.”

You cringe. Of course he wouldn’t believe you—you wrote him to be suspicious of every word the villain said!

“I’m serious!” you squeak, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. “You don’t want to fight me. I, uh... I surrender! Yeah, I totally surrender.”

But Bucky doesn’t back down. In fact, he steps even closer, and now you can see the lethal determination in his eyes. “Surrender, huh? Sounds like a trap.”

You mentally slap yourself for writing him to be this distrustful. Why did I make him so paranoid?!

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you ramble, desperately searching for a way out. “You’re probably thinking I’m trying to pull a fast one on you, but I swear, I’m not evil. Not really. It’s... complicated.”

Bucky doesn’t look convinced, and honestly, you wouldn’t be either if you were him. He raises his metal arm threateningly, ready to fight, and you know you’re out of time.

In one last-ditch effort, you blurt out, “Wait! I love you!”

That stops him in his tracks. His brow furrows in confusion. “What?”

You slap a hand over your mouth, mortified. Did I just say that out loud?

“Yes! I mean—no! I mean...” You fumble for words, feeling your face flush. “What I meant was, you’re amazing. You’re... everything. I’ve, um, admired you for so long, and I really don’t want to fight you. I’m just... a huge fan?”

Bucky stares at you like you’ve lost your mind. “A fan?”

You nod furiously, praying this works. “Yes! A huge fan. Of your work. Uh, your missions? And, you know, your... metal arm? It’s so shiny and, uh... powerful.”

He stares at you for a long moment, clearly baffled by your bizarre behavior. “This is a trick, isn’t it?”

You groan internally. Of course he’d think that. You wrote him to be impossible to convince!

Meanwhile, Bucky’s stance shifts, preparing for a fight. You realize with growing dread that if you don’t come up with something fast, you’re going to get your butt kicked by your fictional crush.

And it’s all your fault.

× × × × 

Without warning, Bucky lunges forward, and you yelp, instinctively trying to duck, but the heavy corset makes it hard to move.

“Wait! I’m serious! We can talk this out—oof!” You squeak as Bucky’s metal arm knocks you flat on your back.

“Oh my God,” you wheeze, lying on the ground, staring up at the stars. I’m getting my butt kicked by Bucky Barnes. This is the best and worst day of my life.

Before you can even get your bearings, Bucky grabs you by the arm and flips you up like you weigh nothing. You manage to stand, but just barely, wobbling in your ridiculous boots.

“Oh my God, he’s strong,” you whisper in awe, dazed. “This is like, the hottest thing ever—wait, no, focus!”

Bucky, looking at you with complete disbelief, narrows his eyes. “What is wrong with you?”

You try to explain, but then he sweeps your legs out from under you, and down you go again. This time you land face-first in the dirt.

“Hnggh... I deserved that,” you mumble into the ground. “I wrote this. I brought this on myself.”

You roll over, still fangirling, despite the pain. “Wow, even in pain, you’re gorgeous.”

Bucky looms over you, looking more confused than ever. “Are you hitting on me while I’m kicking your ass?”

“Yes,” you wheeze, still on the ground, clutching your ribs. “I regret nothing.”

Bucky sighs heavily, and for a split second, you think you catch a flash of amusement in his eyes. “You’re insane.”

You grin up at him, despite the dirt smeared across your face and the throbbing ache in your back. “I’ve been told that before.”

He shakes his head, clearly still trying to make sense of the situation, but you can tell he’s holding back laughter now. You’ve confused him, at least. That’s something.

“So... are you gonna help me up?” you ask hopefully, extending a hand.

Bucky stares down at you for a long moment, then mutters, “You’re not even a good villain.”

“Don’t remind me.” You groan dramatically. “It’s harder than it looks.”

With a roll of his eyes, he finally relents and pulls you to your feet again—though not without a little extra force that nearly sends you stumbling again.

You clutch your chest, still a bit winded, but can’t help the goofy smile on your face. I just got beat up by Bucky Barnes. And it was glorious.

× × × ×

You’re still catching your breath from being unceremoniously flipped, kicked, and restrained when Bucky wraps his metal arm around your waist and hauls you up against him, keeping a firm grip on you. He pulls out a pair of cuffs—the same cuffs you wrote about, of course—and slaps them onto your wrists.

“W-What are you doing?” you sputter, still in awe at how close you are to him now. You stare at his arm holding you in place, feeling your heart race like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Oh my god, am I being arrested? By Bucky Barnes? This is... this is a dream come true.”

Bucky looks at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Stop talking.”

“No, seriously. Where are you taking me?” you ask, wiggling in his grip but mostly just to make yourself more comfortable because—holy hell, his muscles are everywhere. You’re about to pass out from sheer fangirl euphoria. “Is it to a secret Hydra base? Are you throwing me in the trunk of a car? Wait, is there gonna be an interrogation? Do you have a secret lair? Because if there’s a lair, I’d love a tour.”

He tightens his grip, hoisting you up with one hand as if you’re nothing more than a grocery bag. You flail your legs a bit but quickly stop, realizing how cool this actually is.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Bucky says gruffly, dragging you through the trees.

“Oh! Is this like one of those slow-burn captor-captive situations?” you say, eyes wide with excitement. “Are we going to have a moment of shared vulnerability? Will we bond over our tragic backstories? Because, listen, I wrote an entire chapter about this, and let me tell you, it’s steamy.”

Bucky stops dead in his tracks, clearly regretting every life decision that brought him here. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You grin, too giddy to care about the situation. “Oh, you’re gonna find out. I’m a lot.”

He lets out a long, frustrated sigh and continues dragging you through the forest like you’re a troublesome cat being hauled to the vet. You stumble along behind him, your boots still making it difficult to walk, but you’re too caught up in your own fantasies to care.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you gasp, pretending to be serious for a second. “Are you taking me to the Avengers? Am I about to meet Steve Rogers? Oh my god, if this is a prison transfer situation, I’ll take it. Honestly, throw me in a cell, just tell me Captain America’s on the other side of the bars.”

Bucky groans audibly, muttering under his breath. “You’re literally the worst villain I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, thank you!” You beam, still being pulled along like a rag doll. “I tried to make my villain complex, you know? With layers. You’ll see. There’s more to me than just an evil laugh and a cool outfit. I have depth! Trauma! A tragic backstory, even!”

Bucky finally stops and spins you around, looking you dead in the eyes. “Shut. Up.”

You blink up at him, biting your lip to suppress a fangirl squeal. “Wow, even when you’re angry, you’re hot.”

For a second, you think Bucky might actually lose his patience with you, but instead, he just rolls his eyes and resumes dragging you through the forest.

“You’re taking me to the Avengers, aren’t you? You can tell me! I won’t spoil it for anyone,” you whisper conspiratorially. “I mean, you know, since I’m totally going to escape and wreak havoc... right after I meet everyone and maybe take a group photo.”

Bucky doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he hoists you up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and starts walking faster. Your head bounces a little with each step, but you can’t help but notice how strong he is.

“Is this the part where I pretend to hate being manhandled, or...?”

Another groan from Bucky. He’s definitely considering just leaving you tied to a tree at this point.

You sigh dramatically as you dangle over his shoulder. “You know, I could help you with your characterization. Maybe throw in some emotional depth, give you some really meaningful dialogue in your next big scene. Maybe a nice brooding monologue... You’re into those, right?”

“Where I’m taking you,” Bucky says, his tone clipped, “there won’t be any brooding. Or talking.”

You perk up. “Oh! Silent treatment? Broody captor vibes? I love it.”

You can practically feel the exhaustion radiating off him as he mutters, “I need a vacation.”

With a smirk, you reply, “I’m free this weekend.”

[w4w4lycsss]

CLUMSY WIZARD | MORGIE LE FAY

summary: Morgie lets you use him as a test dummy for your new inventions or spells pairing: Morgie Le Fay x male!wizard!reader a/n: It's no secret to anyone that I'm obsessed with Hook, but I'm very offended that Morgie doesn't have fanfics! It's an experiment, if you like this kind of content I will upload more things

Your greatest desire since you were a child had always been to be a recognized and talented wizard, when you entered Merlin Academy you were sure of yourself that things would turn out well. You were positive and had your eyes in front of you when it was necessary to face a problem with your magic. You liked the idea of sitting in the schoolyard with your book on your lap and memorizing as many spells as possible to be the best.

During one of your boring personal classes on 'how to undo a crush' one of the VKs caught your attention; Morgie Le Fay. There was something about him that made you laugh and have a good time when you watched him crack jokes with Hook and Maleficent.

You didn't expect him to come up to you so suddenly one random day to ask what you were reading about as if you had known each other all your life, which took you by surprise. Somehow you got out of your bubble and started talking to him about the basic spells you were trying to memorize, and he offered to help you just because 'he was bored.'

From there a bond of friendship was formed that gradually grew in trust and affection to the point that the two of you seemed like a couple. He liked to lay his head on your shoulder, take your arm when you walked together or give you small gifts from time to time, he had even made a scene of jealousy when he saw that someone was harassing you.

Right now Morgie was in your laboratory (room) sitting in a chair with his hands tied with a rope and a strange apparatus on his head, but he was calm. Too quiet. Accustomed. It had reached a point where it was so common for him to have to carry strange objects on him in order to be with you that he had already gotten used to it, he only had to wait for you to finish to go out and make mischief with his friends.

"My dear, what am I supposed to have in my head now?" He frowned in confusion and followed youwith his eyes as you walked from place to place with a book in your hand.

"A lie detector! Or well, the prototype."

"And why do my hands tied?"

"The last time I put one of my machines on you, you took it off halfway through." You frowned and pouted angrily.

"It was scary."

You ignored his words and left the book on the table. You folded your arms, looking at him as you thought. "I already got it!"

You approached him, releasing the safety that surrounded his neck and removing the non-machine from his head, leaving it on the ground and releasing his hands. You excitedly approached him and gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek, quickly turning to your desk to jot down your new idea in your book.

Morgie froze, analyzing the situation and eventually smiling broadly as he processed what had just happened, putting his hand on the side of the kiss you gave him. It took him several seconds to stand up and go to your side, sitting on the table where you were standing.

"Do you remember you told me that when you saw me out of the corner of your eye for the first time you were reading 'how to undo a crush'?" He tilted his head towards you, although you did not notice it because he was immersed in your writings.

You let out a sound of affirmation. "I never had the opportunity to use it with practically anything."

"You can use it with me."

You lowered your pen and slowly raised your head at what he had just said. You slowly frowned in confusion, causing him to smile proudly.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you believe?" He smiled even more, getting off the table and coming closer to you. "I'm in love with you. Actually, I like to be."

The sudden way in which he confessed it to you did not give you time to react, when you least expected it he had already placed his hand on your cheek and approached to give you a shy kiss on the lips, waiting for an answer. When the two of you parted your lips you let out a long nervous laugh, tripping over your feet and almost spilling scientific and magical liquids from your lab/room.

Morgie laughed as you said so many inconsistencies in a row when some were not even words. The two of you clasped your hands and looked at each other with longing and love as the laughter of both of you ceased.

[nickfurysrighteye]

Practise?

chase davenport x reader

summary: the school's gonna do a play and it's gonna be Romeo and Juliet. Chase was supposed to help with the behind the scenes but instead he gets to play Romeo, and you, Juliet, offer him some help with his lines..

cw: sfw, kissing, that's it i think

a/n: this is my first time writing for this fandom and also my first time making my writing public so please be kind :') ...i haven't written any type of fanfic in a veeeery long time. this is just for fun!!!

"Seriously?! I can't believe it!"

Janelle yells storming into the gym. Everybody stops what they're doing to look at her puzzled. This year Mission Creek High decided to organize a play and upon a great request it was decided to stage 'Romeo and Juliet'. Janelle volunteered to direct the entire planning of it.

"Our Romeo decided it was a great time to break his arm, therefore we don't have a Romeo anymore!" she says walking towards Leo, who's busy painting the fake wooden balcony. Leo decided to take part in the production only to have an excuse to be with Janelle, and doing so he dragged Chase along, just to have some company.

A few people gather around to see what was going on, you take your eyes off the script you were revising to look at your classmates on the opposite site of the room.

"So? What's the big deal?" says Leo "The understudy can take his place."

"The big deal is we don't have an understudy! We barely have enough people working on this play, do you really think we have extras?" Janelle is furious.

"Why don't we pick somebody from the crew?" you barge into the conversation, feeling the eyes of everyone onto you "I mean, it's not like we have time to redo auditions.."

Everybody is silent, eyes going left and right scanning the room for someone brave enough to take on one of the leading roles. You look behind Leo's shoulder "I bet Chase could do it."

Chase was surprised and slightly confused by your statement "Me? But I'm not an actor." he says, struggling to speak loud enough to be heard.

"Neither am I, and neither is everyone else..this is a high school play not Broadway, no of us are actors." you shrug while looking over to the brown haired boy.

Janelle looks over to him "Chase, do you think you could do it? You'd be a life saver, honestly." you could hear the tension in her voice from all the stress the planning brought her.

"I-i mean, sure I could give it a try" Chase tried so hard to sound confident in his choice but you could hear the slight tremor in his tone.

"Perfect, problem solved!" Janelle said.

Once everyone got back to work you get closer to Chase, "If you want we can practise the lines together, I could also give you some tips."

"Sure, I'd love that." Chase says with a sweet, soft smile. "Cool, you can stop by at my house today if that's ok." you smile back

"Yeah, sure, I'll see you later."

-

After school, the two brothers head to the lab and Chase is panicking, regretting the choice he made earlier that day. "Why would I agree to do something like this?! Why didn't you stop me Leo?! This is going to be a disaster! The play's gonna suck!" he spits out the words so quickly he can barely keep up with his thoughts.

"Chase chill out! You'll be fine, like Y/n said no one here's an actor, you're all gonna suck" Leo's already tired of his complaining.

Chase's worry isn't only his acting, but the fact he's gonna be the lead in a romantic play with you as his love interest. He's also terrified by the idea of having to kiss you multiple times on stage, in front of a ton of people. This is stressing him out way more than anticipated.

He already knew who you were long before taking part in this project. He saw you walk around the halls, he saw you sitting a couple of desks in front of him in some classes you have together. He always thought about you as the pretty girl he would only talk to in his imagination. Nobody could have predicted the two of you acting as lovers in a school play. Certainly not Chase.

-

With his heart beating out of his chest, Chase knocks on your front door. You open the door and invite him in. "We can go upstairs in my room" you say, guiding him upstairs.

You go through the script together, focusing on the more difficult parts to memorize. You're suprised Chase could memorize all these lines so quickly, and he's getting better at getting into character.

He says every line with the right feeling, you two work in harmony, it's like you're no longer acting as the characters but are living the story as yourselves.

"You're quite talented you know that Chase?" you smile

"Thanks, I'm actually a bit nervous if I'm being honest." he chuckes while lowering his eyes, looking at his fingers fidgeting with the corner of the script's page.

"How come? You're doing great." you tilt you're head slightly. You sit on your bed, taking a small break.

He shrugs, sitting down beside you "I don't know, I just am" he mumbles.

You stare at him with a soft gaze, you study his expression, you're lightly mesmerized by the way the light beam from the setting sun is hitting his face, shining through your window. His eyes now being a warmer hazel tone.

He can hear the beat of his heart in his ears "Actually, I'm scared 'cause --" he stops "I'm worried about our kiss."

"Our kiss?"

"Yeah, it scares me a little having to kiss in front of an audience."

"It's gonna be a quick kiss don't worry about it."

"I know, it's just that --" he looks down again "I've never done it before."

"You've never kissed anyone?" you say, the slight surprise in your voice makes him feel even worse now.

"It's fine Chase, I get it. There's no need to be ashamed of it." you try to reassure him. "Wanna practise?"

"The kiss?" he looks at you.

"Yeah, I mean, we probably should anyway since it's part of the play." you say, standing up and placing yourself in front of him like you would be on stage.

"Yeah, ok, that's..a good idea" he stands up as well. Chase tries to hide his uncertainty.

"You sure about this?" you ask, you don't want to pressure him.

"A hundred percent" he's anxious, he's rubbing subtly his hands on his jeans because they're starting to sweat, his knees get weaker and he hopes they'll be strong enough to support him.

"Ok now, just follow my lead." you take his hand, leaning nearer. Your other hand cupping his cheek, your lips are now inches apart. Your touch feels warm on his skin, making him breathe faster.

"Close your eyes." as he does so, your place your lips onto his gently, and start to slowly and softly kiss him.

A warm feeling of joy starts to bubble up in his chest as he copies your movements and picks up the pace. The kiss gets more intense, more impatient as he tastes your lips. You get closer and your hand that was on his cheek is now on the back of his neck, tangling your fingers with his hair. His hands start to move, although he's still unsure of what to do.

You stop for a brief moment. "It's ok if you wanna touch me, y'know." Chase laughs a little, he then places his hands on your sides, sliding them down to your waste. He grabs a little harder and pull you into another kiss, this time greedier, messier.

He didn't think it would feel this good kissing you, his heart is racing so fast you could probably hear it. Your lips are exploring eachother, you're both enjoying this much more than you should be. After a few moments Chase decides to wet your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, you part your lips a bit and he slips part of his tongue in. The feeling of your tongues tasting eachother sends shivers down your spine, you feel your cheeks getting warmer.

"You taste amazing" he blurs out the moment he stops to catch his breath, then he pulls you again into another kiss. His words make you melt.

Chase has lost track of time. Actually he has lost track of anything, he can only feel you. Your lips, your tongue, your taste, the sweet smell of your perfume and the warmth of your body standing so close to his. A few moments pass and you pull away to catch your breath, your faces still close to eachother.

"Was i good?" his question makes you chuckle.

"Yeah, you were. You know the kiss isn't supposed to last this long though, right?"

"Sorry i got a bit carried away." Chase laughs a little. You smile softly, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

"I don't think you're gonna have problems on stage, Chase"

"Although we should probably get back to revising the lines"

"We should, but after we're done we should go back to the kissing part, just to be sure"

[olderthannetfic]

Until I read the comments on that one post I had no idea the Bechdel Test was a joke and wasn't supposed to be a serious measuring stick by which you gauged if something was feminist or not. Everywhere I'd ever heard it brought up, it was brought up as a very serious thing, and it was a failure of media if it didn't pass it. I remember the debate about Mako Mori from Pacific Rim and if she was a character you were "allowed" to like as a progressive person despite the fact that Pacific Rim doesn't pass the Bechdel Test, the discourse, the discussion of if the director was sexist for not writing in another woman for her to chat with about non-men related stuff, the camp of people trying to insist that having a fully realized character arc and being as developed as any of the male leads = good writing even if she doesn't talk to another girl...

And I've also had the remark about my writing not passing the test, just not to my face. I searched my fanfic's name once, curious to see if anyone was discussing it outside of tumblr and AO3, and found a Tiktok complaining about it not passing the Bechdel Test. The top comment was "motherfucker YOU don't pass the test but we still watch your ass". I cackled and moved on, but neither the commenter, poster, nor I had any awareness this wasn't Feminist Media Critique 101 theory and was, in fact, a goof.

Right now there's a segment of fandom debating if Blue Eye Samurai is feminist since when Mizu and Akemi talk, they do bring up men, since, y'know. Women aren't considered people with rights in their era in Japan and thus it's something they mention instead of only talking about being cool girlboss badasses who never bring up gender. If something doesn't pass the Bechdel Test, a smug segment of the internet high-fives itself and congratulates one another on being More Feminist Than Thou.

They then get really angry if you disagree, even though by this metric, Sleeping Beauty (the original animated one, where Aurora has only 16 lines of dialogue) is more feminist than Blue Eye Samurai.

--

*DYING*

Okay, so, nonnie....

Dykes to Watch Out For (1983-2008) was a long-running comic and major piece of lesbian media. I grew up buying compiled volumes at the bookstore. To be honest, that kind of 90s-ish lesbian culture isn't really my scene despite me being bi, but it was very nice to have this slice of life-y somewhat realistic, occasionally somewhat parody, look at the queer communities around me. It's up there with Tales of the City for me in terms of being a window into a particular culture and time and place.

If anybody is interested in queer history, in addition to looking up factual info, I think a read of the complete Dykes would give a really good overview of how people were thinking about things and what issues came up a lot. You'll see things like Barnes & Noble increasingly putting feminist bookstores out of business in the 90s, attitudes towards porn in lesbian circles—all kinds of cultural issues of the day.

I drifted away as I got later in my teens and found more genre fiction I cared about, but at one point, this comic was a very welcome antidote to the glurgey coming out stories that made up a lot of the more realistic media.

Anyway, here's the comic itself, reproduced in its entirety because I think it's important to actually understand the context.

This is from 1985, so the era of Rambo, Conan, and Death Wish, each of which you can see being made fun of here. It's based on Bechdel's friend Liz Wallace's actual rule for seeing movies.

That's it. That's the origin of this whole stupid test.

"LOL, fuck 80s action movies". That's it. That's the joke.

The fact that blockbusters still routinely fail to pass in the 2020s is shameful, but that was never the point of the strip.

[skyeslittlecorner]

Omg loveeee your works and the smol kings 😍 Can I have some more plssssss 🥺 Like MC teasing them for being so little (poke and bite those cheeks... 👉👈), then carrying them in their hands for cuddles or some kissie and huggie 🥹🥹🥹 Or any other fluff stuff too!!!!!

Ahhh they're just too precious 🥺 Nobles move aside, it's time to take care of these rascals personally. Little, lovable rascals. The more I see them like this, the more I hope that PB will take the opportunity and turn them into kids one day. Even for a moment. Let me hold and cuddle baby Satan pleeeaseee 🙏🙏

PS. I swear it supposed to be fluff BUT Levi said noooo who need fluff when we can have ✨trauma✨. He doesn't cooperate even in fanfics.

Satan

Remember how Sitri was worried about whether it was good idea to show Satan to people of Gehenna? You found out how wrong he was as soon as the other kids appeared on the horizon. Satan's gaze was glued to them. Silenced by the Paimon’s bubble gum, tearing the teddy bears brought by Leraye, didn't even pay attention to the nobles, he just grabbed your hand and pointed towards the group of kids with sticks.

"Over there! Let’s go!"

You were alone with him for a while, but it wouldn't hurt if you two went out to play, right? He didn't need the nobles' presence. But you? You were supposed to sit with him and the kids. When Satan took a stick they were pretending is a gun, you expected to get one too. Instead, he stood in front of you and stated seriously:

“You're my queen, you don't fight! I'm fighting for you.”

He looked so cute that you burst out laughing and pinched his fluffy cheek. He groaned and pushed your hand away. 

"No! You can't! You don't do that to warriors!”

“Then protect me bravely, my king.”

You moved away to a safe distance so as not to accidentally get hit by a piece of bark or a bullet of the mud. Two women who stood a little further away, apparently the mothers of some kids from group, invited you to join them.

“I didn't know you had children, he looks so sweet…”

“He's really strong! Just like his majesty Satan. Incredible”

You watched tenderly as the little ones rolled in the dust and puddles. Kids. You had to explain everything to the women, but maybe not yet. A family with him… The very idea melted you inside. More and more often you wondered if you really wanted to come back to Earth.

Mammon

You were gone for fifteen minutes at most. It took you a moment of wandering around the gallery to find the bathroom, and then an even longer moment not to get lost in the bathroom itself (why was a sauna there?). As you returned to the alley where you left the nobles with the little king, you heard howling. You had a bad feeling. They were confirmed when you turned between the shelves and a scene straight from Dante's Inferno appeared before your eyes.

Bimet was crouching and waving toy cars, Eligos was swinging a gold-plated candy bar, and Mammon was sitting on the floor and crying. Valefor was the only one who looked conscious, with the phone to his ear.

“There you are,” he smiled with relief as you came closer in your stupor. “I tried to call you. His Majesty… You see what happened as soon as you left us.”

Bimet narrowed his eyes and huffed.

“Come here and fix it.”

You didn't even feel like making fun of them because this sobbing was tearing your heart apart. Mammon was really tiny as a child. You knelt down and gathered him in your arms, his slim body clinging to you with all his frail strength. He calmed down, but only a little.

“Here, here. Everything's fine. What happened?"

“I found… something… for you.” His voice was interrupted by hiccups. "But you were not there…"

You kissed the top of his head, between the curled horns. His head sometimes tilted to the left, where the heavier horn was.

“Shhh, I won't leave you anymore.”

“You promise?”

You nodded, and the kid smiled through his tears. He sniffed and pressed a candy bracelet into your hand. When he grabbed your hand, you felt that he still had some of his adult strength in him. From now on, you were forbidden to leave his side.

Beelzebub

You spent the entire day running back and forth around Avisos after the little king who refused to sit still. You thought your legs were going to fall off. When you were sitting on the couch in the office and the little boy was falling asleep on your lap, you realized that you simply went about it wrong. It was a better idea to take him to the feast immediately. It's true that he ate three pubs, but this bill was nothing compared to his usual conquests. He lay curled up, his head in your lap, holding your hand.

“My tummy hurts.”

Bael, although he took pity enough not to rush him to work, still preferred to have you both with him, in the office.

“So you didn't have to eat that much?”

“I am the king of gluttony.”

“You're a little worm, Beel. This is how you end up mixing newt eyes with Eastern European moonshine. Next time you'll think about what you're cooking."

He was answered by a childish grumble, as Beel squeezed your hand tighter.

“Don't listen to Bael, he's stupid. It tasted so nice…”

"I heard it."

"He worries about you." You stroked the blond hair that you had already braided.

Beel wanted to talk to you again, take you somewhere, but you saw that his eyes were closing completely. You laid down on the couch and let him snuggle against your chest. 

Bael just glanced at you, but soon you were both asleep. He sighed and covered you with the blanket, and now that Beelzebub was asleep, he could stroke his hair a little too. Stupid... but he's still his king. And a friend, after all.

Leviathan

Young Levi was even quieter than usual, and much, much more fearful. He didn't want to have anything to do with anyone. He hid in corners and nooks, and the fact that he was tiny didn't help. You knew that the invisible Foras was watching over him, but that didn't calm you down. A gift for this child came to your mind, when you saw that all the pens were missing from the desk.

You found Levi hidden behind his coffin, with a stack of notes scattered around. All the drawings were black, gloomy and hastily sketched.

“Leviathan?”

He started like a frightened deer ready to run away.

“Don't go, please… it's me. It's just me. I have something for you."

He didn't back down, but he didn't invite you in either. Still, you sat down across from him and placed a new pack of colored pencils next to drawings. He looked at them, his small lips quivering as if he were holding back tears.

“I don't want them.”

"Why?"

“It wasn't… it wasn't colorful there.”

His drawings made it all too clear to you what he was thinking. You saw the castle of Hades and the spindly Levi himself. You could tell by the horns. But other children, with broken horns, with bandages...

“They want you to be happy.” You reached out and wiped away the tears that ran down his pale cheeks. Little fists rubbed eyes in anger. Tears came to your own eyes as you looked at his silent pain.

Leviathan himself must have felt terrified, because he stood up and staggered closer. Trembling fingers grabbed your sleeve. A piercing sob hit you straight in the heart. All you could do was cradle him in your arms. 

You took a new piece of paper, the brightest color you could find, and started to draw. You gently stroked the shaking shoulders and only picked up the paper when you finished.

"Look here."

Your artistic skills left much to be desired, especially that you didn’t draw with your leading hand, because thi one was holding a crying child. The picture of Levi with his nobles and, above all, you, was bursting with colors. Foras must have had a lot of fun seeing this, but you had to swallow your pride.

“It's nasty.” Levi commented through tears. “And Glasyal looks like he has a hump. That's not how it should look."

But you managed to distract him. Now, until he fell asleep in your arms, little Leviathan never left your side.

[jennaaswife]

Some more information about Wednesday season 2 from the leaker. I'm 100% believing them, as many things they mentioned got confirmed recently, like Enid's hair being different and more similar to Emma's, Enid not having scars, etc. Again, don't read if you don't want to potentially be spoiled for season 2.

1- A main character will die (I'm certain it can't be Enid or nobody will continue watching the show, so I guess Tyler, Bianca or Eugene? Obviously none of the Addams can die and there is no much main characters, so...)

2- Pugsley will go to Nevermore. He has powers (we don't know what yet)

3- Maxim has magnetism-esque powers

4- Morticia and Wednesday will be close

5- Enid has a few scenes with Pugsley

6- Pugsley will become close friend with Eugene (always knew they'd get along!)

7- There's a lot of flashbacks of young Wednesday, Pugsley, Grandmama and Barry

8- Ajax breaks up with Enid in episode 1

9- Larissa was indeed supposed to have impersonated Lurch at the end of season one, like a lot of people guessed, but the idea was sadly dropped. Gwendolyn and Christina won't be back this season. Though Christina will be 'there' through flashbacks/photos of season 1

10- Esther and Enid gets closer. Esther spoils Enid with gifts (bye bye all the amazing ideas and fanfics where Esther is a real bitch and Wednesday has to confort Enid)

11- Tyler will have a lot of scenes.

12- There's a 'scary' murder scene. This season will be way more gory than season one and definitely not for kids.

13- Bianca's mom has a fight with Morticia and is planning something bad. Probably something related to the cult she mentionned in season 1.

Also, the 2 years time jump has never been mentionned by the leaker or any official source. So calm down everybody. I really doubt this info is true. It wouldn't make any sense, especially for the stalker storyline and characters arcs. That's all for today! Again, nothing confirmed, but a lot of stuff the leaker mentionned months ago got confirmed recently... and they said they are sharing this to 'get revenge' or something because Netflix messed up with their contract or something. So I personally do believe everything they said, especially with the teaser we got that confirmed a lot.

[rpgchoices]

More on Davrin's character (his beliefs about gods and elves) (part 3)

I promise I will stop at part 4! I just want to collect all the possible info before I actually start writing fanfics. Part 4 will be specifically for his romance, tho I already wrote a small meta about it here.

This part contains SPOILERS mainly from Solas' murales/memories.

Part 1 (Davrin and his Dalish clan) here Part 2 (Codex, Davrin naming Assan and his journal) here

In this part I wanted to talk about:

Davrin and the gods (Solas' murales) plus some contraddictions with "Vows and Vengeance"

A bit more about Davrin's vallaslin (90% sure it is Andruil's)

Davrin's feelings abour protecting other elves

Some extra from the artbook (his age, when he left his clan, his armor)

Davrin and the gods/believing Solas' memories

Transcription of the video: (first scene) Bellara: And the mages who declared themselves my gods. Well, mine and Davrin's. And Rook's. Rook: They're not gods at all, much less my gods. Davrin: I'm with Rook.

(second scene) Emmrich: This is astounding! The ancient elves were spirits who voluntarily manifested a physical form! Davrin: I'd rather go back to talking about the blight. Taash: Hey, Lucanis. Could Spire turn into an elf? Lucanis: No. Bellara: Sorry, but. What? Rook: Okay, no. This whole spirit thing is stupid, and I vote we ignore it. Davrin: Seconded.

(banter) Bellara: Elf came from spirits! Emmrich: An incredible revelation of what happened thousands of years ago! Bellara: I asked Davrin what he thought, and he just shrugged! Emmrich: Ah, he would! Bellara: Rook! Do you feel any different? Rook: As an elf? Should I? Bellara: More spirit-y, maybe? I don't know.

While sometimes it is frustrating to see characters and companions not reacting to the big lore revelations, I find it works pretty well with Davrin. He is clearly uninterested in Dalish gods, even if in Vows and Vengeance he uses "May Andruil guide you on your path", and he is uninterested in openly (with others at least) talk about his feelings on the main revelations. Elves are spirits? He shrugs it away or decides to ignore it (much more interested in how this will affect elves than anything else), the gods? Not his, not interested in them.

He even calls Solas "Baldy" and is not particularly intimidated by him or by the two remaining Evanuris (or respectful of them). (And we also know he does not believe the Fade is real, tho much of that Emmrich banter seem more like he is teasing him).

Another small element of his relationship with the gods is another Vows and Vengeance comment. Someone mentions Fen'harel doing a ritual, and Davrin reacts quite alarmed, asking where the other person heard that name. Does he actually believe in Fen'harel? Or is it simply the idea that someone would use the name of the trickster god?

EDIT: UPDATE! There is a dialogue between Neve and Davrin where Davrin confirms he never truly believed in the gods, he always thought they were a myth.

Neve: Does it bother you they're elven gods? Davrin: It won't help our reputation, that's for sure. Davrin: But me, I never gave our gods much thought. They were just a myth. Neve: Not anymore.

I also wanted to say - yes, I know some discrepancies are probably writing related. To me the most "out of narrative" explanation is that the Vows and Vengeance writers did not fully consult about his character with the game writers, and the game writers rushed through these revelation and did not allow for many reactions.

About Davrin's vallaslin

In a previous interview the answer was not given (it was treated like it was supposed to be a big spoiler), but in the game, as far as I can tell, we do not see any identification for Davrin's vallaslin.

I talked before (here in part 1) about why I think it is Andruil's (or a mix of Andruil and Ghil) and now I am even more certain it might be Andruil. Not only Davrin is the one who tells of the tale of Andruil during the Solas' memories event, but in Vow and Vengeance he gives Nadia a blessing from Andruil:

Nadia: My love. He waits for me Davrin: Then may Andruil guide you on your path.

This is of course a Davrin pre-Veilguard. In Vow and Vengeance he also is alarmed by hearing that the Dread Wolf is doing something. I am a bit confused by how much he actually believes in the gods, at this point!

Davrin and protecting elves

In general, Davrin seems the only character to mention elves discrimination, mainly through banter or some rare comment here and there. We also know he is the only elf who lived away from other Dalish elves (different from Bellara who seems still in contact with her clan and lives with a group that highly respects elves), and we know he described his impact with the outside world as "different" (from what he imagined, see part 1 here).

At the end of the game, you can also have a banter between him and Solas:

Video here.

Solas: You are Davrin of the Grey Wardens. And judging by your vallaslin, you are Dalish. Solas: I expect you have been urging the team not to trust the Dread Wolf, based on the stories you heard around the campfire in your youth. Davrin: What story should I tell? The one about the Dread Wolf creating the blight when he and Mythal slaughtered the Titans? Solas: Have you told the Dalish? Davrin: Why? So it can spread and make humans blame elves for even more things our ancient ancestors did? Davrin: Sharing that story would get a lot of people killed. Davrin: So the best thing I can do right now, as a Warden and a Dalish elf, is to stop the blight and clean your mess. Solas: Mala shivanas ar athim.

(the last seems to translate as "Your duty humbles me").

A similar sentiment is shared after the "elves were spirits" memory from Solas:

The main core reaction we get about the Solas' revelations are not inwardly focused (his own reaction to them) but focused outwards: towards other elves. It seems not to be as important that Solas made the Titans tranquil as much as the danger of humans to blame elves. He is not as interested in elves derived from spirits, as much as he is interested in bigoted humans starting to see all elves as demons.

I think it is also interesting that he only mentions "humans", even if the reactions regarding the Titans would probably come from dwarves, it is clearly humans that in the DA world oppress and discriminate elves.

More Davrin info from the Artbook

I also just wanted to add this for completion sake!

He's in his early 30s and left his dalish clan in his teens. Usually elves (from the codex compiled in the wiki page) get the vallaslin around 18 or younger, so it could overlap to being just before his departure if he got the vallaslin in his clan.

Also the artbook says he created his own armor from different pieces!

I love seeing the stitches in his main blue-like collar jacket, and you can see some wear and tear on the rest of his clothes, especially the waist piece!!

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Can you write fuego with a pregnant wife?

Hi!

I thought that I had done quite a few of them, but... apparently not ^^' Admittedly I took some inspo from my own long fic (aka Embers -series) for this, and basically used a scene as a basis. Anyways, hopefully you like it ^^

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: Romance/fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k Contains: pregnant reader, marriage mention, Fue gets kicked by the baby in the face, a lot of fluffy feels

Fuegoleon had always deemed himself to be a family man. Granted that he has other aspirations as well, and hadn’t had a partner for such a long time, which was why such a status and aspect of his life had been placed on the backburner for the time being.

Not that it had particularly stopped thinking about the future, and the family he might like to have. A wife. Kids. Maybe a few. One was too few for his liking, but he wouldn’t push for more if his partner so wished.

It was a personal preference if nothing else.

But. It had existed in a daydream for a time longer than he could tell.

Until he had met you.

Not that the images had flashed through his mind clear as day from the very first moment he had laid his eyes upon you, but rather… it was like a gentle, comforting sensation. The knowledge that this… this would be it. With you he could go on to build something.

What he had felt, was a kind of familiarity. Like this was how it was supposed to be, and nothing less would suffice.

A part of him wanted to rush. To just move together. Get married. And have the titles of husband and wife. But another part of him held back. Because that seemed more courteous. Something that one does. Bids their time and takes slow, tentative steps to the ever after. Not marry the woman he met less than a year ago.

Though people did do that.

But people, aside of royalty, were more free to make such actions. And he didn’t wish to place such scrutiny onto the two of you. Because it would just be unwanted attention. Rumours of a bastard child possibly.

Senseless gossip.

Attempts to tarnish a reputation.

No matter how displeased even the mere idea of it made him, he chose to abide the customs. Little steps. One by one. And yet with each day he tried to show his devotion, even if with words, scattered here and there, a passing touch, lingering gaze. Some if which came without a thought, because it, too, was easy; as natural as breathing.

And now…

As you sat there, in the arm chair with rings in your ring finger, and a baby bump on your tummy, he couldn’t help but smile.

Because it was his whole world that existed in that chair. And he made a point to cherish the moments where he could know, with absolute certainty, where the two of you were; away from harm and trouble. In the sanctity of your shared living quarters.

“Come here,” you told him with a whisper while stroking your stomach.

He perked up, eyes opening just a little wider, as he made his way across the room and crouched by your chair.

“The baby is kicking,” your tone was hushed, delicate and tender, as if you were speaking out a secret that was only for the two of you to know.

His eyes shifted between your expression, gorgeous and loving like the first rays of dawn, to the little bump in which your precious child resided.

He placed his hand onto your stomach, and waited.

Waited for a moment longer, eyes attentive and curious.

“Come on,” you cooed. “No need to be shy, kick some for dad too.”

‘Dad’… he thought as the corners of his lips tugged further up.

One of the most esteemed titles he could be granted.

“Come on,” you encouraged again, as if your child could hear. But… somehow it didn’t seem to make a difference, if they could, or could not. After all, they didn’t have the language to comprehend for a good while still. So, you were speaking because… speaking to your own child was one of the most natural things to do.

Your precious miracle.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled and pressed his cheek against your tummy. “You are far better acquainted with your mother,” he mused while closing his eyes. “But I can’t wait to meet you to-“

*Bump*

A kick right to his nose.

He jolted back.

You raised your hand to cover your mouth.

“Feisty,” he said while holding onto his nose. “And packs a punch already.”

There was a laugh that flowed from your lungs; equally amused and concerned.

“Are you okay?” You asked while placing your hand onto his shoulder.

“I am,” he chuckled before placing his cheek against your stomach again. “It seems we’re having a true Vermillion here,” he mused to himself with a wide smile again. “But no kicking or punching your mother,” he told, sternly, to your bump and the child. “Understood?” He quirked an eyebrow.

And… almost as if to reply, there was another kick, but this time against his hand. A much softer one this time.

“Good,” he smiled while closing his eyes.

You placed your hand onto his head, and let your fingers stroke through his silken hair, as your eyelids closed half way at the tender sight before you.

Because this… this really was him, at his happiest. While holding you, and being held by you; when he was with his family.

[linderosse]

Hi! I love your art and your Wisdom AU. I have a question about it. Are you still keeping Legend and Fable siblings after Jojo said they weren’t related in the Q and A, or are you sticking with Linked Universe canon?

Thank you!!! Glad you like it!

Hm, I haven’t seen this Q&A! Can I get a link to it? :)

The reason some Zelda fans believe ALttP Link and Zelda are related is this:

Those are the dying words of Link’s uncle. Some English fans (Edit: choose to)(Edit: nowadays) believe the end of this sentence was supposed to be “sister,” since nothing else really fits (I’ve heard “soulmate” (Edit: or “destiny”) as an option, but it seems strange for Link’s uncle to be telling him who he’s supposed to end up with). Thus the headcanon of ALttP Link and Zelda being siblings.

The Japanese text is even more ambiguous, since it reads something along the lines of “You are the princess’s…” This means the line was probably meant to say something like “You are the princess’ only hope.” Unfortunately, this version doesn’t seem to work as well with the English translation, while the “sister” line still works with the Japanese text. The intention is different from the way some fans choose to interpret it. :)

To complicate matters further, the remake (2003) removed the line from that scene, although the line is still present elsewhere in the game— Blind the Bandit disguises himself as Link’s dying uncle and repeats the same lines, and he says the original phrase (Edit: ending with, “You are the princess’…”). The devs are definitely aware of the original line. (Edit: And they’ve fixed the translation, lol.)

So there’s the background info!

Now, on to the main part: regarding following LU canon. The truth is: I am already changing a few things from Linked Universe, the most important of which are these:

Legend and Fable are siblings

Tetra and Wind are not Phantom and Spirit

Shadow and the Four Swords manga are canon

Time and Wind (and other relevant characters) remember Hyrule Warriors

Why am I making these changes for my AU?

Discussed above!

I’m much more of a Spirit Tracks fan than Jojo seems to be :). And when considering the Zeldas, Phantom is markedly different from Tetra in both personality and skills. I’m sticking to LoZ canon over LU canon here. Phantom deserves to be her own character!

I’ve been a fan of the FSA manga for a decade and a half now, so it has long affected the way I see the Zelda series. I also love Shadow and Four’s history— it adds a unique twist to the classic Zelda formula. Shadow is therefore canon in Wielders of Wisdom and the parallel LU story, The Secrets We Keep. Expect Shadow’s backstory to play a role somewhere in the combined Wisdomverse :)

I’m new to the Hyrule Warriors fandom, but I love the connection it gives Warriors with Time and Wind— and other characters :). This is also going to be addressed in The Secrets We Keep. Check that out for more info!

Many of you who write/read fanfics for LU have seen these ideas before. Interpreting canon in different ways has always been an integral part of the Zelda fandom, because canon is itself can be contradictory. That’s one of the things that makes this fandom so fun <3.

And the most important thing is that these changes fit the story I want to tell better.

I’m going to do my best to stick to LU whenever possible, but I want to tell a fun, engaging story, and sometimes that will mean taking a different path: sometimes following LoZ canon more closely, sometimes interpreting things my own way :).

So, to answer your question: I will probably be keeping Legend and Fable as siblings. It’s a popular headcanon among fans. I believe the story I’m telling for Fable works better with other romantic interests for Legend. And I want to stress that he and Fable are just as fiercely loyal to each other.

That said, I definitely don’t mind if you believe differently! I don’t really emphasize romance anyways, and I’m not here to police the fandom. Please feel free to read the references to Legend calling Fable “sister” as friendship, or just ignore it, or whatever you wish! I don’t mind who you ship with who.

Only preference is: please don’t ship the Wielders with each other, since they’re canonically related by blood and spirit :). Other than that, anything goes as far as I’m concerned.

Anyways. This got really long, didn’t it?

I wanted to answer the question as thoroughly as I could. Please feel free to ask more questions, or stop by my quiet little art streams and ask me live if you want an immediate answer! I will always do my best to respond :)

You can find all previous responses under the tag: #lin responds !

[io-lu-art]

PUUUHHHH ok I neeeeed to rant about this cause I am watching the Acolyte as I am writing this down and I am RAGING rn. (take this with humour, pls, it's nothing bad, I promise you, lol)

requested page cut for spoilers:

So, 4 min into Episode 6 and I am wondering, that's totally Ahch-To, right? Like, that's, that's so obvious. At that point I was just waiting for the Porgs to appear (tho, did they exist 1000 or what not years ago? idk) LOL. WDYM "Unknown Planet"?

But let's put that aside.

Then the scene continues, I will not comment on it too much, HOWEVER I totally see why people say it's reylo coded. And the more I watch the more I go like NO, NO, NO plllllsssssssss don't--

THAT'S LITERALLY WHAT I AM PLANNING FOR MY FANFICTION, GUYS YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME, DO I NOW HAVE TO WRITE "I HAD THIS IDEA BEFORE THE ACOLYTE CAME OUT" AFTER EVERYTHING I POST OR WHAT? I cry.

No but really, I have proof:

This was not supposed to see the light of day before I would actually get to the point of illustrating the fanfic, but I guess now I gotta put it out there + plus this is the part of the story that I still have soooooo many other scenes to write for to connect and actually get there, hence why it freaking takes so long to work on it with uni and life happening, but--

*sighs* I mean I guess it's your average day to day trope but I am still- I... *another sigh*

I don't even read fanfiction on a daily basis. It's a wonder if I do it once every 6 months LOL. I don't even know if it is in fact a trope or not.

here, have an even rougher version from literally almost one year ago when I put together a pdf for a friend to give me feedback on in which I added some story beats that I drew around the "am I your prisoner?" scene:

You know what? It's fine. This is fine. Totally fine. It happens. I'll go on and continue watching the Acolyte ep 6 now. I stopped at min 10:50 to write this post. Let's see how much more reylo coded this actually gets. (I have seen a spoiler on Tumblr with (I believe it's) Osha holding the red blade against guy's neck.)

(I don't even know their names lol. That's how invested I am in this show. Not at all, really. But I thought, ok, let's stay up to date with the star wars fandom. I regret that now, ngl XD)

(It's not even the first time this happens to me. Remember the scene from Ahsoka when someone cuts Ezra's hair with the lightsaber? Yeah, I had that planned for a later interaction between Rey and Kylo. Welp. I refuse to post proof for that rn. It would spoil the story.)

This is so surreal and funny to me, I cannot.

[seirei-bh]

I'm trying to calculate or at least approximate in headcanon the ages that I think each character is in New Gen

First according to ep 5, Ysaline is 22 years old, since she says that she was 9 when her sister Tasha was 3, and now her sister is 16, (although since each sucrette is customizable, I think each player can have the freedom to decide what age prefer to imagine that they have their sucrette in New Gen, and that's what I'm going to do with mines)

Anyway, this also gives us a clue as to at least Thomas's current age. And also this other important fact: Thomas is 10 when OldSucrette (Lynn) is 17. So they are 7 years apart.

And there's supposed to be a 3-year time jump after Love Life to the special crossover ep. Since Lynn is 26 in LL, she is 29 in that special ep.

If we subtract 7 from 29, then Thomas is 22 years old. The same one as supposedly Ysaline canonically.

Now, it is much more difficult to estimate the age of the other characters. The only clue we have is that Elenda said in ep 4 that she was 6-7 when Devon was 10-11. Taking into account that many stories in video games, books and animes sometimes tend to use even and round numbers in big time-skips so that readers can easily remember the dates, it makes me assume that 20 years have passed since that time. So Elenda would be 26-27 and Devon about 30-31. Now the problem is that we don't know if Roy and Devon are the same age or if Roy is younger, we only know that they went to the same high school and so did Elenda, and these three met each other since they were kids, but I'm inclined to think that Roy and Devon were more like friends in a sense of older-younger brothers, since Devon seems older due to his features and behavior, so perhaps Roy is the same age as Elenda. I can be wrong though, and Roy and Devon being the same age, but this is what I think for now~

We also don't know Amanda's age, but due to her features, she appears to be around the age of Thomas and Elenda. Although Elenda in a scene from ep 3 defines herself as "the fairy godmother of Devenementiel" and says that she was there from the beginning, while Amanda seems like a recent member of the company, which makes me think that perhaps Elenda is a little older than Amanda.

Jason could be either Roy's age or Devon's age, but I'm inclined to think that it would be more convincing for Jason to be Devon's age, given his features, and since they are both company bosses and direct rivals, it would make sense for them to be the same age, and olders than the other crushes.

And Brune seems from her features to be somewhat older than Elenda, but perhaps not as old as Devon.

So my final conclusions are:

Thomas: 22 (the only age probably canon for now) Amanda: between 22-24 Roy: 26/27 Devon: 30/31 Jason: 30/31

Elenda: 26/27 Brune: 28~

There are other possibilities, of course. But the only thing we can be quite sure of is Thomas's age, being 7 years older than Lynn and the same as Ysaline, and that Devon is 4 years older than Elenda. It's also possible, for example, that they are all 22 except Devon and Jason being 26, but Rayan Zaidi is 33 in UL and Devon and Jason's features seem -at least from my pov- closer to that age than in the middle of the twenties~

Anyway, I'd like to know the opinion based on these calculations and/or headcanons of other players regarding this topic 💜

I guess we won't know until they confirm it in the game, if they confirm it in future eps, however if it is never revealed, I'd really like to know what the canonical ages of each crush are. So @chinomiko if you ever see this, please it'd be wonderful if you could answer this some day, or at least if these ideas are close to the canon. I know that the age of each character is something that doesn't have too much importance since everyone can imagine what they want, but I am especially curious about Jason and Devon <3 Besides these details are always useful for fanfic material.

[brunchable]

POV: You're sucked into your Fanfic - Part Two

《 The plot goes off the rails. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Writer!fReader

Themes: Comedy - Chaotic Duo (mainly y/n), breaking 4th wall. Fanfic Bucky meets his writer.

Summary: Y/N, now fully aware she’s in her fanfic, tries to navigate the villain’s role but is terrible at it. Y/N tries to sabotage one of the villain’s main plans but accidentally makes things worse.

A/N: Y/N is just a clown at this point LMAO.

tags: @winterslove1917 @zeeader @iamdedsthingz @hzdhrtss @almosttoopizza

@yiiiikesmish

You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re in your own fanfic, but now comes the hard part: pretending to be the villain you wrote, a role you’re quickly realizing you’re terrible at.

“I can do this,” you mutter to yourself as you pace around your lair—or, well, the lair you wrote. “I wrote the villain. I know how to be evil... right?”

The words sound hollow even to your own ears, but you try to psych yourself up. After all, you can’t be that bad at playing the character you created... right?

Wrong.

You freeze at a loud thud echoing through the room. Oh no. That’s probably Bucky—or maybe the rest of the Avengers—coming to crash this part of the story. You know what comes next: an epic confrontation, full of dramatic one-liners and battle-ready glares. A perfect opportunity for your villain character to show off her menacing charm.

Only problem? You’re about as menacing as a kitten wearing a cape.

You glance toward the entrance, heart racing. Okay, play it cool, you can pull this off.

But deep down, you’re still reeling from the last time you faced Bucky. You were supposed to be locked in a super high-tech Avengers prison, right? Yeah. That lasted a grand total of two hours, mostly because your minions—and you use the term very loosely—broke you out.

To be fair, you didn’t even know you had minions. You didn’t exactly plan for that when you wrote the story. But, apparently, your villain character does. And when they broke you out, it was less like a well-executed heist and more like a disorganized clown car unloading directly into a high-security facility.

Imagine the worst rescue you can think of. Now multiply it by ten, add three explosions that were definitely not supposed to happen, and you have a vague idea of how badly it went. There were henchmen tripping over each other, one of them got stuck in the ventilation shaft, and another one kept calling you "Supreme Evil Leader," which felt flattering but... also very awkward.

To make matters worse, Bucky—looking all intense and broody, because of course he does—caught up with you right as you were awkwardly sliding into the escape vehicle, and the confrontation? Oh, it was a mess. 

You tried to give him a villainous speech about how “this isn’t over,” but it came out more like, “I’m... uh... not done here! Watch out!”

Then one of your minions set off a smoke bomb before anyone was ready, and you tripped over your own feet trying to make a dramatic exit. Classic villain move? Not quite. You barely made it out without face-planting.

So yeah. That’s where you’re at. This is round two, and you’re really hoping to do better this time.

Another thud echoes through the room. You swallow hard.

Okay, no more bumbling. This time, I’m going to deliver the villainous performance of a lifetime. 

You scramble to the center of the room and try to remember what your villainous character would say. You did write this scene, after all. It’s just... harder to do it when you’re living it. Especially when you know Bucky is about to walk in, all brooding and muscle-y.

Maybe if I just stand here and look mysterious? That’s evil, right? Just stare into the distance like I’m plotting something dark.

As the door bursts open and Bucky strides in, guns blazing (literally, because of course he’s carrying), you raise a hand, attempting to look menacing. “Aha! Bucky Barnes... we meet again!”

He pauses mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “You’re... dramatic.”

Damn it! Why did I write such terrible dialogue?

You cringe internally, but you push on. “Yes, well... I’m a villain. That’s what we do, right? Be dramatic?”

He’s not buying it. “Is this supposed to scare me?” His tone is flat, his expression unreadable.

You fumble for a comeback. “I—I mean, of course! You should be terrified of my... evil...ness.” You gesture vaguely around the lair, hoping it looks more intimidating than it feels.

Bucky takes another step forward, his metal arm gleaming under the dim lighting. “You don’t seem very sure of yourself.”

Great.

“I’m very sure!” you snap, but even you don’t believe yourself. You can feel your composure slipping. This is not how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to deliver a chilling monologue and strike fear into the heart of your enemies.

Instead, all you can think about is how Bucky’s muscles look even better in person.

Focus! You’re supposed to be evil! Stop mentally cataloging his biceps!

Bucky crosses his arms, clearly waiting for you to say something intimidating, but your brain is short-circuiting. 

“Look,” you start, hoping to salvage the situation, “maybe we could just... skip the whole fighting thing? We’re all tired, right? How about we just, I don’t know, chat?”

He blinks, clearly confused. “Chat?”

“Yeah!” you nod enthusiastically, jumping on this new plan. “You know, talk it out. No need for violence. I’m sure we can... negotiate.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “You’re stalling again.”

“Stalling? Me? No way!” You laugh nervously. “Okay, fine, maybe a little. But in my defense, I wasn’t expecting you to look this... uh, intense.”

He steps closer, clearly not amused. “You’re the worst villain I’ve ever met.”

“How many times are you going to say that?,” you groan, throwing your hands up. “I didn’t ask for this! Well, technically I did because I wrote it, but now that I’m living it, it’s way harder than it seemed when I was typing it up, okay?”

Bucky stares at you, utterly confused, as you ramble. “You wrote what?”

“Never mind,” you mutter, waving him off. “The point is, being evil is exhausting, and I’m not cut out for it.”

Bucky looks at you like you’ve lost your mind—which, honestly, you probably have at this point. You’re clearly not doing a great job of selling the “evil mastermind” role.

“Okay,” you say, standing up straighter, trying one last time to get back into character. “You know what? Let’s forget all that. Let’s just get back on track, okay?”

You strike a dramatic pose, trying to regain some villainous dignity. “Behold, Bucky Barnes, for you will never escape my clutches! Mwahaha—”

Before you can even finish your half-hearted evil laugh, the ground beneath you starts shaking. You freeze.

“Oh no,” you whisper, realizing that you’ve accidentally triggered the next phase of your villain’s grand plan—which you totally forgot about.

The lair begins transforming around you, mechanical arms lowering from the ceiling, hidden weapons emerging from the walls. 

What did I even write here? You try to remember, but it’s been too long, and you wrote so many twists and turns into this plot.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as the chaos unfolds. “This part of the plan?”

You wince. “Uh... yes? I mean, obviously.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You don’t even know what’s happening, do you?”

“Not... exactly,” you admit sheepishly. “It’s been a while since I wrote this, okay? But look, I’m sure it’ll all work out in my favor.”

Just then, a panel on the wall opens up, revealing a countdown timer with large, glowing red numbers. Your heart sinks. Oh no. Not the countdown!

Bucky notices the timer and shoots you a look. “What happens when that hits zero?”

You scratch the back of your neck. “Um, you’re not gonna like this, but... I think it triggers some sort of self-destruct sequence? Maybe. I’m not entirely sure.”

Bucky glares at you. “You think?”

“Look, I was going for high stakes when I wrote it, okay? I didn’t expect to actually be here!” you blurt out, throwing your hands up.

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re a disaster.”

“I know! But it’s not my fault! Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep your villain persona together when you’re staring at all this?” You gesture to him dramatically, feeling flustered. “You’re like... ripped.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by your sudden compliment. “Excuse me?”

“I said what I said!” you huff. “You’re ripped, and it’s distracting, okay?”

He shakes his head, still looking at you like you’re crazy. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been told that before,” you reply with a grin, trying to distract him while you figure out what to do next. “But seriously, can we stop the countdown? Because I really don’t want to blow up right now.”

Bucky takes a step forward, eyes narrowing. “Then stop playing around and fix this.”

You fumble for the control panel, desperately pressing buttons at random. The countdown speeds up, and you wince. 

“Oh no, I think I made it worse.”

Bucky grabs your wrist, yanking you away from the panel. “Stop touching things if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“YOU TOLD ME TO FIX THIS!” you protest, but Bucky’s death glare shuts you up immediately. You shrink back, feeling the weight of his grip on your wrist as he pulls you away from the panel.

“You’re making it worse,” he growls, letting go of you. “Just… stand there and do nothing.”

You cross your arms, pouting. “Not my fault this whole thing’s a dumpster fire. I wrote it, but I didn’t think I’d have to live it.”

Bucky ignores your muttering as he works on the control panel, trying to figure out how to disable the countdown. You watch him for a moment, eyes trailing over his arms as they flex with every movement.

Focus, Y/N. Now’s not the time for ogling. Well… maybe just a little ogling.

"How are you so calm during all this?” you ask, hoping to break the tension—and maybe sneak in a little more flirting. “I mean, you’re literally disarming a self-destruct sequence with those gorgeous, dangerous hands of yours. It’s honestly distracting.”

Bucky doesn’t even look up, but you swear you see a flicker of a smirk. “You’re the one who set this off in the first place. Shouldn’t you be handling it?”

“Look, if you weren’t here being all Captain Broody and Muscles McGee, maybe I could think straight,” you snap back. “I can’t be held responsible for the chaos you create just by standing there.”

He finally glances at you, eyebrow raised. “You’re blaming me?”

“Well, yeah!” you say, gesturing wildly. “I was trying to be a villain, but have you seen yourself? How am I supposed to be evil when you look like you just stepped out of a superhero calendar?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, turning back to the control panel, but you catch a flicker of amusement in his expression. You might be bad at villainy, but at least you’re good at throwing him off.

You lean back against the wall, pretending to be casual as your heart pounds in your chest. “So... once we stop the countdown and we’re not blown to smithereens, what do you say we grab a drink? You know, to celebrate not dying.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Bucky mutters, still focused on the panel.

“I’ll stop talking when you stop being hot,” you fire back without missing a beat.

Bucky finally stops what he’s doing and looks at you, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. “Are you flirting with me right now? While we’re about to blow up?”

You give him a sheepish grin. “Hey, if we’re going down, might as well go out swinging. Or... flirting.”

“Unbelievable,” Bucky mutters under his breath before turning back to the countdown. With one final movement, he manages to disable the timer, and the red numbers blink out.

You let out a long breath, slumping in relief. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t entirely screw things up.”

Bucky stands up straight, glaring at you with his arms crossed. “You almost killed us.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t,” you say, flashing him a grin. “So technically, I saved us. You’re welcome.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I prefer ‘charmingly chaotic,’” you reply with a wink. “But sure, impossible works too.”

Bucky shakes his head, clearly exasperated. “You’re lucky you didn’t blow up your own lair.”

“See? Lucky. I’m like a walking good luck charm,” you say, giving him a playful nudge. “So, about that drink—”

“Not happening,” he interrupts, cutting you off.

You sigh dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

Bucky steps closer, leaning in so his face is just inches from yours. For a split second, you think he might actually be considering it. But then he says, “You still owe me for almost killing us. Get moving before I change my mind.”

You blink up at him, trying to ignore how flustered you feel. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a hero, you’re awfully grumpy.”

“And for someone who’s supposed to be a villain, you’re terrible at it,” he shoots back.

You can’t help but grin. “Fair point. But hey, I never said I was good at being bad. I’m more of a... chaotic neutral.”

Bucky shakes his head again and walks toward the door, clearly done with the conversation. “Let’s go. And try not to trigger another self-destruct sequence.”

Before you can even muster a comeback—probably something sarcastic about how it’s hard to be a villain when you’re distracted by muscles—you suddenly feel a strange tug, like someone’s yanking you backward by an invisible rope.

Your eyes widen. “Wait, what—”

The room starts spinning. One second, you’re staring at Bucky’s very serious, very grumpy face, and the next, it feels like the entire lair is collapsing around you. Everything blurs together in a whirl of colors and lights.

“OH MY GOD, AM I DYING?!” you scream, arms flailing as you try to hold onto something, anything. But there’s nothing. Not even Bucky’s annoyed expression to anchor you.

For a brief, panicked moment, you’re convinced this is it. This is how you go out. Flung into the void for writing bad fanfiction. What a way to go.

Then, with a pop, you land face-first into... your bed.

You blink, completely disoriented. “Wait... what just happened?”

Your laptop sits open beside you, the fanfic document staring you in the face like it’s mocking you. Your head is spinning, your heart racing, and you slowly sit up, still convinced you might be hallucinating.

“No way...” you mutter, glancing around your bedroom, taking in the very non-evil surroundings. The smell of laundry detergent. The sound of traffic outside. Your cat, Felix, staring at you from the corner with a look that clearly says, What the hell was that?

“I’m... back?” You pat yourself down, making sure you’re all in one piece. No villain outfit, no lair, no brooding super-soldiers demanding you fix things. Just... reality.

It hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh my God, I got kicked out of my own fanfic.”

You collapse backward onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I didn’t even get to redeem myself! Or finish flirting with Bucky! Not that I was doing a good job, but still!”

Felix hops onto the bed and meows at you, completely unimpressed with your current existential crisis.

You groan, pulling the laptop onto your lap and staring at the screen. “Well... I guess this is better than being trapped in my own chaotic, terrible story. But man, I was so close to redeeming myself. Kinda.”

Felix bats at your laptop as if to remind you of your priorities.

“Fine, fine,” you mutter, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I guess I’ll just... write the rest of the story like a normal person.”

You pause, glancing at Felix. “Do you think Bucky misses me?”

Felix’s blank stare is the only response you get.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you sigh dramatically. “He probably doesn’t even remember me. I didn’t even get to finish my evil monologue.”

You sit up on your bed, still reeling from your sudden ejection from the fanfic world. Your brain is buzzing with one thought: I need to go back.

Sure, your villainous arc had gone off the rails, but you were so close to turning things around. And, let’s be honest, who wouldn’t want to try a redemption arc when it means more time with Bucky?

You rub your temples, staring at your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe. “Okay, okay... maybe if I just... concentrate hard enough, I can get back in. That’s how it works, right?”

Felix watches you with his usual disapproving stare as you gather all the determination you can muster and lean in toward the laptop screen.

“Come on, just suck me back into the fanfic,” you mutter, inching closer to the screen, squinting at it as if somehow willing yourself back into the story would do the trick. “Please?”

Nothing.

You frown. “Alright, time for desperate measures.”

With a deep breath, you slam your forehead into the laptop screen.

Thud.

“Ow!” you yelp, clutching your head as Felix meows at you like, What is wrong with you?

“That didn’t work,” you mutter, rubbing your forehead. “Okay, let’s try something else.”

You get up, pacing back and forth. “What did I do last time? Maybe if I type something... yeah, that’s it! I’ll just type myself back in!”

You sit back down, hands flying over the keyboard as you try to rewrite yourself back into the fanfic.

“Y/N is sucked back into the story... um... gracefully and... with a cool villain pose!” you type, nodding to yourself. “Yeah, perfect.”

You press enter with a dramatic flourish and then wait.

...

Nothing happens.

You stare at the screen, blinking. “Okay, rude.”

Felix hops up onto the desk, flicking his tail in annoyance as if to say, Even I know this is a terrible plan.

“Oh, shut up,” you grumble at the cat, shaking your head. “Maybe it needs more drama.”

You jump up from your chair and dramatically yell, “I SUMMON THEE, FANFICTION WORLD! BRING ME BACK TO BUCKY!”

Felix stares at you, completely unimpressed.

Still nothing.

“Why is this so hard?” you groan, leaning over your laptop like you’re trying to psychically connect with it. “Come on, take me back! Just throw me back into the chaos! I’ll do better this time, I swear!”

In a fit of frustration, you try slapping the screen. Then gently caressing it. Then hugging the laptop like it’s some magical portal that just needs a little love.

Felix meows again, this time louder, as if to say, Seriously, stop embarrassing yourself.

“Fine!” you huff, letting go of the laptop. “Maybe I need to... I don’t know, meditate my way back in. Channel my inner villain.”

You sit cross-legged on the bed, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “I am a powerful, misunderstood villainess. Bucky Barnes cannot resist my charm. Take me baaaaack...”

Silence.

Your eyes pop open and you look around. Still in your bedroom. Felix gives you an unimpressed side-eye.

“Ugh!” you groan, throwing yourself backward onto the bed in defeat. “I’m stuck here. Forever.”

Then, out of nowhere, your phone buzzes. You lazily grab it, fully prepared to ignore the world, when you see the time.

Your eyes widen in horror. “Oh no... I’m late for work!”

You leap off the bed, tossing Felix an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta go! Villainy will have to wait! Please don’t tell anyone how badly this went!”

In your panic, you nearly trip over your slippers as you rush to grab your bag and dash for the door, realizing that while you might have been kicked out of your fanfic, real life is waiting—and it doesn’t care how close you were to a redemption arc.

As you race to get ready, you can’t help but mumble to yourself, “I swear, next time I get sucked into a fanfic, I’m writing myself as the hero... and with a better wake-up plan.”

[tomurakii]

My last post about bloodweave was pretty negative (though necessarily so imo) so I wanted to talk about the little things about the bloodweave dynamic that I DO like and want to see more of in fic (under the cut).

- the orb means Astarion can't start their relationship transactionally. Gale can't give Astarion blood, and also can't have sex with him (and presumably would refuse casual sex anyway). How would the relationship develop without Astarion being able to rely on the give-and-take, forced instead to just trust Gale will watch his back? Astarion isn't a plans guy, I imagine having to come up with something on the spot (considering none of the other companions are reeaaaally an option either) would lead to a lot more emotional vulnerability as he tries to take a route he has much less experience with. Not to mention that the flirty and standoffish front isn't exactly going to endear him to Gale, who approves of the capable, loyal, and righteous. How long can Astarion pretend to be invested in Gale's wellbeing before it becomes true?

- they both have bad ascension endings, but different natural outcomes. Gale is considered the more morally upstanding one, but in their solo states (without the player's influence) Gale will go through with ascension and Astarion won't. Would they goad each other on? Gale disapproves of Astarion's ascension, using arguments that could apply to himself about the personal sacrifice and loss of the soul. Would Astarion flip them around, become defensive? Their dynamic could mean the power hungry character ending up discouraging the pursuit of godhood, or the two of them hurtling over the edge together. Or, maybe, Astarion encouraging Gale to ascend and having to trust him to return.

- they're the party members with the most life experience, and they're also both pretty well-educated (even if Astarion's law qualifications may well have expired by the events of the game). He spent his time under Cazador sewing (like Gale in his Baldur's Gate epilogue) and learning languages (of which Gale knows four). They have enduring common interests beyond their circumstances. Gale can help Astarion rediscover the latent nerd potential he lost when he died, and lord knows he would love to pick his brain for a first hand account of the mid-to-late 12th century.

- Astarion recently regained hope for his future when the tadpole freed him, Gale recently lost all of it. While act 1 is a continuous series of positive discoveries for Astarion (tadpole frees him from cazador -> ceremorphosis is held off by the dream visitor -> tadpole can be controlled), Gale's life gets worse with time as his treatment stops working. It's a dynamic that could give Gale hope, force Astarion to practise empathy, or put them completely at odds.

- Astarion's all-encompassing desire to reclaim his life could be inspiring to Gale. Moreover, I imagine seeing just how passive Gale is about his death would infuriate him. To have so little regard for his real, mortal, free life? It's a great source of angst, and also a great starting point for Gale to start wanting to live again. Because after learning about Astarion's past he would agree, he'd recognise how much value a mortal life was supposed to have. He'd think himself ungrateful or impolite for entertaining the idea of throwing it away when Astarion would give anything to have what he had. This would lead to guilt, and potentially self-loathing, unless someone was there to help pick up the pieces.

- If Astarion meets Oblodra before Gale's act 2 romance scene, (or for a fanfic plot, just before Gale is confident enough to confess) they most likely won't have sex until the graveyard scene in late act 3 (or the post-ascension equivalent). It means that rather than the fuckfest we so often see from bloodweave fics, the relationship is almost entirely a slow-burning, emotionally intimate affair. I'd really love to see that play out, the progression from semi-horny yearning on both parts as the orb keeps them apart, to two love confessions that are followed by the both of them experiencing non-sexual intimacy for the first time in years. I doubt Mystra was one to hug her chosen, after all, or hold their hands.

I just love a bg3 ship that forces the characters to take different actions than they do in canon. It makes me feel like I'm developing a broader understanding of the characters, you know?