#most self-indulgent thing I've ever written

[ghostedglitch]

Prelude

prelude - an introductory piece of music.

The Third Movement in a Symphony of Teenage Shenanigans (Third Movement or thirdmvmt for short) is a series of short humanstuck fics centered around high schoolers and best friends Karkat Vantas and Sollux Captor as well as their friends and families. It’s a pretty simple AU and it’s loosely themed around Karkat being a choir kid, hence all the titles being music terminology.

I've pulled a lot of little details directly out of my own life. Third Movement is absolutely "Harper self-indulgently projecting, the fic" and I'm never going to apologize for that.

This post, Prelude, is where I will keep information about this world, including character profiles, headcanons, and details about the world. As such, I may change or add things as the series grows.

Last updated January 14, 2025

Individual character profiles below the cut:

KARKAT VANTAS

Age: 16 Birthday: July 12 Height: 5’3” (160 cm) Pronouns: He/him (He’s pretty apathetic about gender actually, he would probably be open to anything* but this is what people default to and he doesn’t care enough to investigate further.) Orientation: Asexual, biromantic Family: Kankri (brother), Kanaya (cousin), Porrim (cousin) Occupation: 11th grader Hobbies and Interests: Singing, theatre, film, creative writing Voice part: Tenor *For the sake of clarity, since Third Movement is written in third person instead of first or second, the narration will only ever use he/him for Karkat.

Karkat is the “performing arts” variant of your typical overachieving AP student. Instead of physics and calculus, his areas of expertise are literature and music. He holds himself to very high standards, both in his academic performance and in every other aspect of his life. Growing up with a sense that he is inherently different from his peers** in ways he can’t put his finger on, Karkat pushes himself in the hopes that his achievements will compensate for his shortcomings. He would be doing this to a degree even without all the pressure to excel that he receives from his older brother Kankri. Perfectionism seems to run in the family. **this guy is straight up autism

He needs glasses but he nearly never wears them. Fortunately his vision isn’t that bad and he can get around fine so long as you don’t ask him to read a sign on the other side of the cafeteria. 

Constantly fidgeting. Tends to bite his lips and pick at his fingernails without even noticing.

Prone to insomnia.

Because typing quirks don’t really exist for humans the way they do for trolls, Karkat doesn’t always type in all caps. Typically, he will type with proper caps and punctuation, and uses all caps for emphasis (frequently).

SOLLUX CAPTOR

Age: 16 Birthday: June 2 Height: 5’2” (157 cm) Pronouns: He/it* (transmasc) Orientation: Aroace, but romance favorable (he’s dating Aradia) Family: Mituna (brother) Occupation: 11th grader, math tutor to 9th graders Hobbies and Interests: Programming, gaming, sleeping in Voice part: Alto or tenor *For the sake of clarity, since Third Movement is written in third person instead of first or second, the narration will only ever use he/him for Sollux. As an it/its user myself I hate to do this but it’s just so things don’t get too confusing.

Sollux and Karkat have lived next door to each other and been best friends since they were tiny. They trust each other with everything. Sollux is an introverted gifted kid, the sort who can get perfectly fine grades without really trying—which is why he doesn’t put in any more effort than absolutely necessary. His favorite people on Earth, the people he’s the most open and comfortable around, are Karkat, Aradia, and Mituna. If you’re inviting him somewhere and you actually want him to come, you’d better also invite one of those three.

Unlike Karkat, Sollux is nearly never seen without his glasses.

He is excellent at math and science, and is a year ahead in math. He’s just sort of okay at English and history, but that’s fine, he’s got Karkat.

Half-Korean. “Is he mixed-race because that’s two, or because you’re projecting?” Yes.

Karkat persuaded him to join theater tech so he could be there when Karkat performs without having to be onstage himself.

Because typing quirks don’t really exist for humans the way they do for trolls, Sollux’s capitalization and punctuation patterns are the same as usual but he doesn’t make any substitutions, except to replace any instance of to/too/two with a numeral 2, including within words like “today” or “into”. For instance: “are you going 2 come over 2night or is it 2 late?”

ARADIA MEGIDO

Age: 16 Birthday: April 4 Height: 5’6” (168 cm) Pronouns: She/they Orientation: Bisexual Occupation: 11th grader, part-time McDonalds employee for now (per Sotto Voce) but she's quitting soon because she hates dealing with Eridan. Hobbies and Interests: Singing, archaeology, media about ghosts Voice part: Alto

Though she has a tendency to unsettle people with her tone of voice or cheerfully morbid comments, Aradia is a generally cheerful and curious girl who prefers to live in the here and now rather than dwell on the past or what-ifs. She’s dating Sollux and she’s in the same choir as Karkat. 

Sometimes dyes part of her hair dark red.

On their first anniversary, Aradia taught Sollux how to make a friendship bracelet, and they each made one for the other. So now, Aradia almost always wears a dark golden yellow bracelet, and Sollux is nearly never seen without a dark red one.

KANKRI VANTAS

Age: 22 Birthday: June 24 Height: 5’8” (173 cm) Pronouns: He/him Orientation: “I’m too busy for that.” Family: Karkat (brother), Porrim (cousin), Kanaya (cousin) Occupation: College senior Hobbies and Interests: Activism, volunteer work for charities, writing Voice part: Baritone

If you thought Karkat was too perfectionistic you’re not ready for this guy. His high expectations make Karkat look relaxed. The problem is that his standards don’t apply just to himself—and he isn’t always gentle about it. Karkat often clashes with Kankri over his tendency to act like a secondary, even stricter parent.

After graduating high school he got involved in a big volunteer project alongside his father (Signless, but I haven’t named any of the parents and I kind of don’t feel like it) and took a gap year to focus on that.

MITUNA CAPTOR

Age: 19 Birthday: May 29 Height: 5’10” (178 cm) Pronouns: He/him Orientation: Pan Family: Sollux (brother) Occupation: College sophomore Hobbies and Interests: Gaming, skateboarding Voice part: Tenor (loud)

Sollux’s excitable and reckless older brother. The two get along very well—most of the time. (Mituna was the first person Sollux came out to, and he’ll always be grateful to have such a supportive brother. But also, Sollux knows EXACTLY who stole his good Pokemon cards when they were kids, and has no intention of letting that shit go.) Though Mituna often struggles to articulate himself and doesn’t have the best impulse or volume control, he’s also really fucking smart and he thinks it’s hilarious when people forget that.

A few of his favorite games are TF2, Minecraft, and Splatoon.

Likes to wear bright colors. I am partly noting this for myself because I am my own illustrator and I have a pretty subdued taste in clothes colors. 

Though he shares the same two-toned aesthetic with his family, he didn’t inherit the mismatched eyes Sollux got.

As a plot point in Subito Pianissimo I’ve given him some sort of chronic illness that I haven’t nailed down any details about. I don’t expect it to come up again with enough prominence that his exact diagnosis would matter… but I hate leaving question marks!

ADDITIONAL CAST

Kanaya and Porrim Maryam: Ages 16 and 23 respectively, the Maryam sisters are the Vantases’ cousins. Porrim is only slightly older than Kankri, but she’s usually one of the first people he turns to for help. Similarly, Karkat and Kanaya are extremely close and often turn to each other for advice.

Kankri and Karkat's father: So the dancestors are siblings and the ancestors are parents so this is Signless. He's dedicated his life to putting more good in the world through activism and volunteering. Kankri very much follows in his footsteps, or tries to.

Mituna and Sollux's father: Close friends with Karkat's dad. His main job's IT but he also helps Signless with his projects.

Feferi Peixes: Age 16 (all the beta trolls are juniors). Energetic, optimistic, and impressively popular, star student Feferi Peixes is involved in so many school organizations and events that no one is quite sure how she does it. This year she’s determined to win student council president, and has recruited Karkat to help with her campaign.

Latula Pyrope: Age 19. She’s been dating Mituna since they were 14.

Eridan Ampora: Age 16. Has an assortment of internalized phobias to get over. Karkat is friends with him but constantly questions this decision. Eridan has a blatant crush on Feferi who has repeatedly rejected his advances. Sollux fucking hates Eridan and delights when bad things happen to him.

UNIVERSE NOTES

ID cards drawn January 8-9, 2025

This post would've been an entry in the series itself on AO3 but I couldn't tell which side of the fence it fell on regarding the content guidelines so I'm erring on the safe side.

I haven't decided yet if I'm going to include the beta kids; I work better with smaller casts. If an idea presents itself to incorporate them in a way that has to be them and not anyone else, I won't restrain myself, but as of now this AU is pretty centered on the Vantases and Captors (and, given my whole everything, I'm not expecting that to change much).

[getaapologist]

The Tension and the Terror.............Part II

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length in a later part)

Summary: Letha, left alone to guard Macrinus's things as the party turns to debauchery, lets her curiosity get the better of her. She leaves a bit of an impression on a man no longer surprised by anything.

Warnings: Voyerism. 18+ only

Word Count: 2.4k

Part 2 of 13?

[ Part I ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: I really hope you like this one. Letha is a bit of a peeper. I mean, you'd look too, right? Right? Hope you like it.

Letha forced herself to stare down at the swirling patterns in the outer robe Macrinus had handed off to her. She followed a line of embroidery until it was lost in a swirl of too many others, indistinguishable. The noises echoing from the individual rooms down here were uncomfortable, to say the least. She honestly might have preferred her cell. The smooth stone walls hid the real draw of Thraex’s lavish party from her eyes, thankfully. What did people with no fears do for fun? It made her feel sick.

Laughter reached her ear, causing her to turn her head in its direction. She recognized it as the same woman from earlier. The one hanging over Geta’s shoulder all evening, feeding him fruit, laughing at every word that came out of his mouth. She glanced over at the narrow opening in the stone wall to her left. Amber light spilled out, beckoning to her. The curtain covering it might as well have been invisible with how sheer it was. 

It was him. Geta. The woman sat in his lap, joy in her features as he ran a hand up and down her bare arm. She reached up for his face, her slender fingers smoothing over his jaw, the tips of them lightly brushing at the start of his bottom lip. He pulled at the sheer maroon fabric barely covering her chest from his eyes and smiled at what he saw. Letha forced herself to look away from them, doing her best to tune out his quiet words, her breathy laughter and squealing. Clothes rustling. A satisfied sigh. Oh. 

She begged herself to not look up, but she was possessed by the compulsion to observe him in such a vulnerable state. What did an Emperor look like when surrendering to another? 

He was still mostly clothed, his black and silver patterned tunic pushed up above his waist. His thighs were on full display, and even they were almost too much to look at. He had long, quite muscular legs. The way they were stretched out, it was as if he was almost all leg. Thraex’s concubine was nestled into the apex of his thighs, one of her hands resting on the pale skin beneath his hip.

He watched the woman working in his lap, doing what she was employed to do. A handful of minutes exchanged for precious gifts. To have the favor of an Emperor? Well, that was probably worth more than just a few minutes. His eyes were very nearly closed. He was breathing heavily as he reached down to hold her hair out of her face. He wanted the view. The hand on the back of her head was tender, his grip relaxed as her head bobbed beneath it. He moaned, the sound drawing blood into her cheeks.

Letha felt her own heart racing. Her face burned as if the amber light streaming out through the small window was the sun. She knew she’d spent too long there. She cautiously took a step back, her sandal scratching at the floor. She immediately looked back into the room, wondering if she had been heard. 

He was no longer blissful, his intense eyes staring daggers into hers, an unmistakable heat in them. He stared her down for almost a minute. She didn’t dare breathe. His lips finally smoothed out into a knowing smile as he reclined back further, relaxing underneath the pretty woman’s ministrations. 

She found she couldn’t catch her breath, though she was merely standing still in the hall. Macrinus’s beloved robes were still in her arms and she cursed him for making her endure this. He accepted her insistence that she not participate well enough, but he couldn’t just leave without sampling something.

Letha knew for her own sake she should walk—no, run—but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. The way his lips parted, the slight reddening of his cheeks and throat… It was intoxicating. And he didn’t look anywhere but at her, the woman in his lap forgotten. He was taunting her, just with his eyes, the dark brown orbs watching her every breath, looking for signs of her arousal. She couldn’t help but imagine it, with him. Would his grip be gentle or firm? What did an emperor taste like? 

She knew she was as affected as him, suffering from the heat of his gaze, that same heat pooling low in her belly. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time. She bit her lip, her chest burning. She pushed her thighs together, almost looking away.

Geta’s eyes squeezed shut, cutting the live wire hanging between them. His breathing hitched and he gave way to his release, low moans filling the small room. The glint of the light off the silver laurel crown sent her crashing down to reality. He was an Emperor. She wouldn’t get to just walk out of here. But he hadn’t scolded her. Hadn’t called for one of the guards to send her away. No. He welcomed her gaze. As the woman sat back on her knees, wiping at her mouth, Letha finally did look away, not feeling up to any more daring behavior for the evening. 

“Oh, did Macrinus abandon you?” Someone tutted. At the sound of another’s voice her head whipped around, heat rushing to her cheeks at possibly being caught. It was Thraex, and he was not wearing near enough layers for her comfort. “Letha, was it? Come drink with me, I am sure he won’t mind.” His hand was sweaty on her arm. The contrast of Thraex to Geta was staggering. A chill quickly overtook the warmth in her belly.

“I–I cannot–”

“Thraex,” Geta interrupted, his greeting stern despite his smile. She whipped her head around to look at him. His robes were righted and the woman was slipping out of the door behind him as he stepped out in the hall. Relief washed over her despite what had just occurred.

“I–Yes, your majesty?” His grip lessened and his hand fell away under the Emperor’s gaze.

“I just wanted to thank you, you are a gracious host. Caracalla does so enjoy your parties, more than most.”

Thraex smiled widely at the praise. “Thank you, Emperor Geta. It is always my goal to relieve some of the stress you two must carry. A bit of respite,” he explained, winking.

“Yes. It is appreciated.” 

Geta’s eyes moved down to where Thraex kept his hand near Letha’s arm. As if Thraex was waiting for Geta to turn around so he could whisk her away. She felt her nerves growing in the awkward silence, wondering if she would survive this evening after all. 

“Ah, these belong to Macrinus?” Geta finally spoke, gesturing to the folded robes in her arms. “Would you happen to have a place to put them? I have business with her.” Thraex realized what Geta was implying, as did she. She felt lightheaded. As if there was more than one kind of business being conducted in these halls. 

Thraex stood there stunned for a moment before he snapped back into the role of a welcoming host, collecting the folded bundle of outer robes and large necklaces and passing them off to a young man standing behind him. “Yes, yes, of course your majesty. Excuse me.” He bowed to Geta before leading his own concubine down the hall, his movements harried as he gestured to an ornate side table near the door Macrinus had disappeared into. The bundle was placed there, and then they were gone.

“Come,” Geta ordered, turning around to return to his room.

Letha felt frozen, like she was buried in hot sand up to her neck. She did not want to follow him, but it seemed she had little choice. To defy him surely meant punishment, and if the rumors were true, it was usually fatal. She had done enough to put herself in hot water already.

“You look like a frightened deer,” Geta chuckled, standing in the doorway, looking every ounce a hunter. “Come, have a drink,” he urged before stepping into the room.

He is a monster.

He is a monster.

He is a monster.

Letha sucked in a ragged breath, her stomach fluttering just beneath her ribcage as she took a step to follow him into the mostly private room. He stood near a side table, pouring some wine. 

“Shut the door.” An icy chill spread across her shoulders as she turned to do as he bid, the door offering a click as the latch fell into place. 

“Here,” he muttered, his arm outstretched, ring-adorned fingers offering a glass of wine to her. She couldn’t look him in the eye as she accepted the cup. Her limbs were shaky, her body full of nerves. “Sit,” he ordered, retaking his place on the plush bench. He patted the space beside him. The vision of him stretched out in that same spot, eyes falling closed in pleasure, filled her mind and she balked at Geta’s command.

“There?”

He grinned. “Yes. There.” His eyes were full of mirth. “You should not defy your Emperor,” he playfully scolded.

Letha felt like she was jumping into the ocean with a shark as she took a seat beside him. His dark eyes observed her over the rim of his glass, his motives indiscernible. She held her own cup with both hands, her eyes averted, unable to look at anything but the floor.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” That caught her attention, allowing her to finally meet his heavy gaze. “For the show,” his eyes were intense, but not angry, “and for saving you from Thraex.”

Heat blossomed under her skin. “Thank you, Emperor.”

“Geta,” he instructed.

“Thank you, Geta.” She brought the cup to her lips, allowing herself a small sip of the sweet red wine. Silence filled the space between and she felt his stare burning through her skin. She didn’t know what he wanted of her if he wasn’t outright angry with her. She floundered, breaking under imagined pressure. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Watch me? Don’t apologize. It was quite nice, actually.” 

She very nearly choked on the wine, moving the cup away from her lips. He bit his lip to smother a grin. He was toying with her. She had no defense against his honeyed, teasing words.

“I am curious. Does Macrinus particularly enjoy your shyness? Your… watching?”

She felt her eyes go wide. “No. Uh, I do not… He has another,” she tried to explain. He seemed surprised.

“Then why bring you, knowing what this night would devolve into?” He was studying her, his large brown eyes shining with curiosity as he took a sip from his glass.

To observe. To dangle the carrot in front of her eyes. To show her he meant what he promised. He could enter the Emperor’s orbit, allow her close enough to enact her revenge, whatever form it took. Though this didn’t feel much like revenge.

“I am here to serve Macrinus, Emp–Geta,” Letha explained, only barely catching herself using his formal title. “His usual—Hyacinthia is not feeling well.”

“What a shame.” He smiled, the tone of his words implying otherwise. She didn’t know how to respond, instead letting her eyes fall to his ringed fingers holding his cup. In a strange way, they suited him. 

“So,” he started, setting his cup down on the side table before returning his attention to her, his body turning too, “do you have any notes?” 

“Notes?” She replied, confused.

“Yes, notes, for Lyra. You were paying enough attention, surely.” His words cut through her, that same feeling from before beginning to build again. “I’ll be sure to pass them along.” 

She looked down to her lap, the heat of her blush filling her cheeks, making her feel woozy. Or perhaps it was the effect of the wine on a very empty stomach. “No.”

He grinned. “You look heated.”

“The room is stuffy,” she excused, lying. 

“Are you thirsty? In need of more wine?” He put on a good act of being concerned for her, but it was obvious he was enjoying himself.

“Do you have a habit of teasing women?” She asked, mildly frustrated, on the verge of embarrassment.

“Just the ones that watch me cum.” She was mortified. He let out a small laugh at her reaction before continuing, undaunted. “Do you have a habit of watching people fuck through windows?”

She blushed furiously, looking away from him. “Definitely not.”

He looked the part of one of the fabled wolf-children of Rome as he grinned. “What is your name?” His hands fell to his thighs, the very same thighs she’d just seen completely bare.

She wanted to lock this whole evening in a box and throw it in the sea. Her confidence in herself and her dedication to avenging the death of her family was profoundly shaken. And all it took was a pretty face. But how could she help herself, especially with the way his brown eyes watched her every move?

“Letha, your majesty.”

He looked like he wanted to scold her for the honorific, but the offering of her name seemed to satisfy him.

“Letha.”

Footsteps could be heard outside, as well as a stern voice calling out for her. Macrinus.

She looked to Geta who simply nodded, releasing her from his presence. She paused at the door, taking a moment to smooth her hair out of her face before pulling on the handle.

“Letha,” Geta called out, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. It seared against her skin. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder, her heart racing. “It was a pleasure performing for you. Perhaps we can do this again sometime.”

She felt her face flush and she forced herself to leave the Emperor there, unable to think of anything to say in response. She had never felt so conflicted, unable to let herself enjoy the attention of a beautiful man.

She slid through the door, careful not to open it too far to reveal the occupant. She wanted to keep this from Macrinus. She wasn’t willing to hear anything he had to say about it. She didn’t know what to make of it all herself. If Macrinus questioned her resolve too firmly it might crumble. After closing the door as quietly as she dared, she stepped out into the hall. She saw him already shrugging on his robes, head on a swivel. 

“Macrinus,” she spoke, approaching him. He turned to look at her, his eyes tired, but still alert. Surely he would notice something telling in her eyes. She quickly walked over to him, apologies and explanations ready to tumble from her lips.

“We will talk later,” he warned her, putting on his large necklaces. “I have business to tend to.”

[ Part III ]

[buttdumplin]

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

cw: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's word count: 2.1K

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

~

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

~

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

~

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

[babycandle]

kindergarten teacher!reader x john price imagine 🖍️🧨❤️‍🩹

You first meet John when he comes to pick up his niece and nephew with his sister-in-law.

According to Lucy, his brother’s wife, he’s a government worker who is constantly traveling for work, and the kids missed their super cool uncle dearly. You’d heard many stories from the kids themselves, but this Uncle John remained sort of an enigma to you, like an imaginary friend.

Nothing could have prepared you for the real Uncle John.

He stands at a good head (and maybe half) taller than you, dressed in a casual navy shirt and utilitarian cargo trousers, a baseball cap embroidered with the British flag atop his head. Thick facial hair covers most of his lower face, but it doesn't do much to hide the bright smile he gets as soon as he lays eyes on the kids. The ease with which he picks up his niece and nephew, Olivia and Oliver, nearly leaves you breathless – not to mention, the sight of his thick, fuzzy arms flexing and unflexing as he tosses a kid over each shoulder, eliciting delighted squeals from them both.

(In some decrepit corner in your mind, you wonder if he could do the same to you. Probably.)

As you're chatting with her and updating her about her kids’ day, Lucy motions him over so she can introduce you to each other. “This is my husband's brother, John!”

“Hello there, lass.”

The smooth, brassy tones of his voice wash over you like a tidal wave that you’d happily drown in. You introduce yourself as the kids’ kindergarten teacher, and he gives you a good-natured smile as his niece and nephew start climbing all over him like a tree. “I hope they haven't been causing you much trouble,” he chuckles, a twinkle in his eye.

You try your best to swallow the dryness in your mouth. “Of course not! It’s a joy to watch them learn and grow everyday,” you reply sheepishly, clearing your throat as you avert your gaze.

You're too busy internally cursing yourself for not looking a bit more put together; there's dirt and sand all over the bottom half of your overalls, paint splatters going all the way up your arms and maybe even on your face, and your hair is matted and frizzy. Self-consciously scuffing the soles of your sneakers against the floor as you try and fail to get the sand off of it, you miss the way his gaze rakes over you from head to toe, the corner of his mouth curling in interest.

It's at that exact moment that Lucy plucks her kids off of John and hands them each their backpack to carry themselves. You deflate a little, knowing that that's their cue to leave.

However, you instantly perk back up again when John turns to you, his arms now empty, and extends a hand for you to shake. “‘Twas a pleasure meeting you, lass. Hope to see you around more often, yeah?”

Your heart catches in your throat as you reach out to shake his hand. When he grabs you in a firm, warm grip, you feel his calloused fingerpads brush over the back of your hand, and you have to suppress a shiver from running down your back.

“It was nice meeting you too, John.” You offer him a shy smile, praying that your cheeks don't look as warm as they feel.

You distantly wonder if you were imagining his touch lingering just a tad too long before he finally lets go.

As he turns around to leave with his family, you're quickly whisked away by the other kids demanding your attention. Consequently, you don't notice the way his eyes stay on you even as he walks out the gates, nor do you notice the way his sister-in-law waggles her eyebrows at him suggestively as soon as they're out of earshot.

You don't have high hopes of seeing him after that, of course. Maybe it's just the fact that you've been single for several years since your first serious relationship ended – yes, you convince yourself, that's why you can't stop thinking about him all night. That's why you still feel the weight of his hand in yours, the brush of his fingers on your skin tickling like a phantom touch. That's why the sound of his voice echoes in your mind like a broken record, and that's why you keep thinking back to the way his eyes crinkled when he looked fondly at his niece and nephew.

But you can't deny the way your chest squeezes when, the next day at kindy, he comes by to pick up the kids again – this time, alone.

bonus (an alternative pov):

There's a very short, concise list of the things Price lives for. Since the birth of his brother’s daughter, she’s been undoubtedly added to the top of that list. Then followed the birth of his nephew as well, who obviously followed suit and quickly became a serious contender for the number one spot.

He makes it a point to visit his brother’s family every single time he gets time off without fail. The kids grow up absolutely adoring their super cool, super strong uncle who always comes back from his business trips with funny stories to share. (Their favourite activity to do with him is hanging off his arm, almost using it like a monkey bar.)

So, when he’s finally granted leave after nearly a year of bouncing all over the world and eliminating several apocalypse-level threats, the first thing he does is call his brother and fly back straight to them.

He lands while the kids are at kindergarten, so when Lucy offers to bring him along to pick them up, he jumps at the chance. (He made sure to take a very thorough shower before hopping on the flight here, not wanting a single speck of dirt from foreign lands or speck of blood on him. Even so, before he leaves with Lucy, he takes extra care to wash his hands and scrub underneath his fingernails again. Just in case.)

It goes without question that he's absolutely over the moon to see Olivia and Oliver – the sight of them running to him, screaming his name in joy is nearly enough to make him melt. He sweeps them up in his arms, holding onto them like a lifeline.

Occupied with the kids for a few minutes, he glances up to see where Lucy has gone. Then, he sees you.

You're chatting with Lucy, your smile bright and your eyes brighter. There's wildflowers tucked into every pocket on your overalls and rainbows of paint on your arms, as well as a smudge of yellow on the side of your cheek. The soft afternoon sunlight hits your hair at just the right angle that it highlights the stray strands of hair on your head, making you look like you're wearing a halo.

For a moment, all the bustle and noise around him winds down into a fuzzy, white silence. You're the prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes on.

[coffeebanana]

Summary:

When Adrien slips and breaks his wrist getting out of the shower, it definitely puts a damper on his date night with Ladybug. But that doesn't mean he's not prepared to flirt his way through the pain.

[mllekurtz]

Neve/Rook || M || 1.8k || complete || no archive warnings apply

After the end, there’s a new beginning. A couple of affection-starved women with a penchant for deflection try to figure it out.

[seiya-starsniper]

Dreams for a Dozen Cats - Dreamling (AO3

Rating: G | Status: Complete | Chapters 1/1 | Words: 2K

Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, Getting Together, Meowpheus

For @dreamlingbingo: Square D4: Creature: Feline and for Dreamling Week 2023 presented by @mr-sadman (Day 1: Meowpheus)

Summary:

Of all the unusual things Hob Gadling has come across in his long immortal life, he thinks perhaps one of the strangest things is finding Dream of Endless holding council with a colony of stray cats just outside The New Inn. 

[ruelpsen]

Honestly, as someone who has been going through fictosexual attraction for years and also didn't know how to deal with it at first: Just write and think about the most self-indulgent bullshit you can picture. It is the only way to keep sane or so I've found.

Oh I'm already on it, believe me. In fact, here's a little snippet from what I've been working on...

"Are you... turned on by this too?" you ask. "I'm not sure," he growls. "I will admit it's not something I've ever involved in my... liaisons before. But seeing you so desperate like this is always sure to awaken a hunger in me. Or rather-" he pauses for a moment, burping again- "a thirst." With that, he kisses you deeply once more. You feel his fangs press against your lips as you moan with pleasure. You grip the back of his shirt as your hips instinctively buck against his, suddenly jostling his body. He abruptly breaks his lips away from yours only to turn his head to the side and release a short, thick belch. "Apologies," he says. "I didn't want to be..." He trails off, lost in thought for a moment. He eyes you for a second, observing the redness in your cheeks and the pleading look in your eyes. "On second thought, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" "Yes," you moan. "God, yes." "My, my, what a nasty little creature you are..."

[amodwithoutamark]

After I Met You

+8k, 2/?

+canon divergence, palace au, foxxian/dragonji 

+Wei Wuxian marries Hanguang-jun to stabilize the relations between the great sects. This, unsurprisingly, doesn't go as smoothly as planned.

[blizzardsuplex]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Professional Wrestling, All Elite Wrestling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Adam Cole/Roderick Strong Characters: Adam Cole, Roderick Strong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Mirror Sex, Barebacking, Porn with Feelings, Angst and Fluff and Smut

The porny/emotionally climatic part of the third to the last chapter of a 200-300 page new adult urban fantasy novel that doesn't actually exist.

Almost posted this on anon, but everyone who knows me would probably know who wrote it anyway, so. This is me owning it LOL

[zymotica]

writing saturos/menardi fic in 2024 was not what i expected to be doing this year but apparently i've done it anyway

[jtl-fics]

1, 13, 48 for the fic ask meme!

Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

For things like FF it is "I gotta write this down ASAP" since it's a lot more stream of consciousness and a lot less 'planning'. However for stuff like Math Nerd Neil AU I am constantly day dreaming about it at work (especially when I'm dealing with cleaning up files and my brain needs outside stimuli to survive)

13. Do you listen to music while you write?  If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

I listen to music EXCLUSIVELY for fight scenes. So I was listening to roundtable rival by Lindsay Sterling for the two recent ones lol (music is a lot more badass than those fights)

48. Who is your favorite character to write for?  Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

Okay my favorite for AFTG is Andrew. I just think that in general he has A LOT going on that we never got access to properly in the series so I like exploring that.

IN GENERAL I have a a 300k Trails of Cold Steel fic that sits in editing hell that is largely written from Crow Armbrust's POV because I love him.

[a-tale-of-legends]

Snapshots

Random snapshots of my ocs with their partner(s). The canon ones anyway. Warning. This is very self indulgence lol. Oc x oc and oc x canon ships here!

1. Jin, Amber and Wally( Jin and Amber: 26 Wally: 24)

"Wa-lllllllyyyy~" Jin coos, their face flushed from the nights drinking. They cling onto Wally's sleeve as they stumble along, a giddy smile on their face.

" Mm-hmmm?" Wally replies, vaguely amused at his partner's drunken state. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a little tipsy. But he was sober enough to help his lovers walk back home....or rather a nearby hotel. Gardevoir and Gallade are behind them, keeping a watchful eye on them and their surroundings, so they should be safe.

Jin inches closer to Wally, and with a childish grin. He gently boops Wally's noise.

" Pretty," Jin giggles, and if Wally's cheeks weren't already tinted pink, the shade deepens.

" Aaw," Wally whispers, " You're pretty too!"

" But you're the prettiest," Amber chimes in. She's been silent the whole time compared to Jin. She too was leaning on Wally for some support, but not to the point where she's weighing in him. Wally glances down up at Amber now, his cheeks growing even more red. She gives him a similar childish smile, face flushed.

" You're so pretty," she giggles.

" Soooooo pretty,"

Wally thanks Arceus, Rayquaza and whoever else may be listening for the darkness of the night. Both of his hands are preoccupied keeping his lovers close by his side, so he can't cover his beet red face with his hands.

" Guuuuuuuuuys!"

2. Kenji and Silver. ( Kenji and Silver: 19) ( semi what if/ alt reality. Might be canon but I need to think about it)

Not many people know exactly how soft Silver can be. They get small glimpses- with his pokemon, with his friends, but no one truly knows how soft he truly is. But Kenji knows. Kenji knows this well.

Silver cups his face as if it's fragile glass, planting small chaste kisses on his cheek, near his lips, and down at the crane of his neck. Small yet so filled with love. Silver then rests his forehead on Kenji's shoulder, moving his hands around Kenji's waist, connecting his hands at his back. A hug.

Kenji bites back a tease. A "What happened to Mr. Grumpy Face? Where's my Silvy?" which would definitely get a reaction out of Silver. Maybe a small kick. But he doesn't, instead returning the hug.

"Long day?"

" Mmpf" Silver grunts.

" Want me to make you some food?"

"Yes please," Silver whispers, turning his head slightly so Kenji can hear him better. Kenji beams.

" Right on it!"

Kenji knows how soft Silver truly is. He knows this well.

3. Elliot and Eva ( Elliot: 26 Eva: 25)

" Eli, come on, I need to get to work. You need to get to work" Eva giggles, gently shaking her girlfriend- no wait. Gently shaking her wife as said wife as an iron grip around her waist.

" Noooooo," Elliot whines, still in the process of waking up.

" Eli!" Eva laughs, still gently shaking her wife, who only continues to pout.

" If I gave you a kiss, would you let go?" Eva muses, and Elliot stops to think. Eva snorts as she does.

" Make it two kisses," she bargains and Eva rolls her eyes.

" If I make it two, then we're making out and then we'll never leave,"

Elliot smirks devilishly

" Is that so bad?"

" Eli!!!" Eva laughs again, giving her wife a gentle smack on the arm.

" Fiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeee!" Elliot whines, " One kiss. But when we get home, I'm getting two!"

Eva chuckles, bringer herself closer to Elliot, face inches apart.

" Deal,"

4. Jude and Dante ( Tbh this could honestly happen any time after they get together. So maybe when they're 26 or so?)

".... Dante,"

" Yes Jude?"

" I need to work"

Dante looks up from his papers , giving Jude an unamused brow.

" You are working. And I am too, so maybe don't dilly dally, hm?"

This man will be the end of her.

Jude steels herself again, feeling heat spread across her face.

" Dante."

" Yes, Jude?"

" You-" the embarrassment is going to kill her, " You're sitting on my lap,"

Dante looks down, pretending to look shocked.

" Oh wow, would you look at that," Dante says plainly, then going back to his papers which she's pretty sure he's not even reading, " I don't see the problem here,"

" You have your own office?!"

Dante shrugs, shifting his papers around.

" So? This is comfy,"

He will be the death of her, swear it unto Yveltal.

Jude sighs, a slight irritation beginning to circle.

" You can't just sit there, it's -" Distracting. But she knows that once she says that, she will never hear the end of it, " I need to work, Dante,".

Dante simply stares at her, and for once, she can't seem to meet his gaze. He then tilts his head to side ever so slightly.

" Do you want me to leave, Jude?"

Silence.

Dante smirks.

" Hm,"

Jude's face turns red, either from embarrassment or anger, she doesn't know.

" Fuck you,"

" Love you too~"

5. Naomi and Marnie ( Both are 20 here!)

"-And then we saw these kids ride on a weird lizard thing!" Naomi rambles on the phone, Marnie listening intently as she fixes some boxes.

" That's very amusing coming from the person who rides a wolf everywhere," Marnie teases, placing on uniform into a new box from another. She hears Naomi let out an offended gasp.

" I do not!" she cries, " I am a proud train user, thank you very much!"

Marnie rolls her eyes, pushing the box away from her a bit, now leaning back on her chair.

" Sure, sure. I'm sure Ms. Rika would be pretty impressed by your wolf riding skills,"

Marnie can practically hear Naomi's face turn red as she sputters a response.

" I- Carol did tell!"

" Tell they did," Marnie muses. Though really it was Bede, who was told by Carol. But it still ends with Carol, so who cares.

" I'm gonna kick their ass," Naomi swears, and Marnie laughs.

" B-but, um," Naomi stammers, surprising Marnie a bit, " It's not- there's really nothing- I mean you've seen Ms. Rika, right?"

Marnie nods.

" I have,"

" S-so you understand where I'm coming from, right?"

" That I do,"

Naomi continues to surprise Marnie, as she hears the girl sigh in relief.

" Oh t-thank goodness, I- I thought you'd be upset-"

Marnie's eyebrows furrowed, " Why would I be upset?"

" W-well! Um-" Naomi stutters for a bit more, " N-No reason! Just that, well, Carol said-"

" Carol says things," Marnie cuts off, " You know this better than anyone,"

"R-right! Right. I-" Naomi pauses, " I'm just glad you're not upset, either way,"

"....Did you want me to be upset?"

" No!" Naomi yelps, and Marnie distances her phone from her ears a little, " No, no, no,no, not at all!"

15 year old would be upset. Angry glares and punching pillows, upset. Marnie wonders if she should play into her 15 year old self. Just a bit.

" I just ....I just miss you, you know?" Naomi continues, talking faster than she can think. Marnie's cheeks grow rosy, but she doesn't say a word.

" I mean, it's natural to miss you're my-" she cuts herself off , and for whatever reason, Marnie can feel her cheeks growing even more red.

" Your...."

" My.....friend???? I- I mean we are friends, I just-" Naomi sighs, " ....I don't want to have that conversation over the phone. I-I don't think that's fair to you,"

Marnie tries to tell herself to not get her hopes up. She could be reading far too into it. The two of them could always be friends and nothing more and she would be fine with that.

....but she did say she should play into her 15 year old self more, hm?

" I can wait," she whispers, as if she hasn't been doing that for the past 5 years.

" O-okay. I'll....see you later?" I love you, bye.

" I'll see you later" I love you too.

[blorboresidue]

the eternal #struggle to get myself to focus on the like 5-10% of this fic that involves things like plot or emotions instead of the vast majority of it which is, of course, [redacted]

[potatoesandsunshine]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Jedi Exile/Female Revan, Female Jedi Exile/Visas Marr Characters: Female Jedi Exile, Female Revan (Star Wars), Visas Marr Additional Tags: Pining, Dreams, revan and leida were a wartime relationship that leida is having dreams about a decade later, really normal stuff, absolutely lethal levels of 'i can fix her' radiation Summary:

The Ebon Hawk—Revan’s ship, with Revan’s droids and one of Revan’s teachers, and Leida practically sleeps wrapped in one of her dark cloaks, the way the echoes ring in her ears. She should meditate. She should really meditate. She goes to the medical bay and watches the Sith sleep.