#no it's not it's green. 'but my cat doesn't like green he only likes purple and he likes my t-shirt so therefore my t-shirt's purple'

[corvid-language-library]

I went to Moomin Valley Park in Saitama with my friend today and as always I was amazed by how much I actually understand when I'm surrounded by adult people using normal everyday phrases with a neutral accent instead of Yamagata kids babbling absolute nonsense at me

[mariahcarreyyy]

Can you write a lando norris x fem reader fic where they do anal (fem receiving) cause he won a race or championship or something please

+ my first smut ever go easy on me pls 🙈🙈

𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗭𝗘, 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗶𝘀

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

plot: after Lando wins his first grand prix race, you let him explore a new area in your sex life-- taking it from the backdoor.

wc: 2.8k { shes a long one ;) }

warning(s): smut 18+, anal fingering (fem rec.), anal sex (fem rec.), celebratory sex, the overuse of the words 'fuck' and 'baby', swearing, and mild mention of champagne.

The post-race flush on your boyfriend's face that Sunday afternoon was nothing new: his cheeks twinged were crimson and a broad smile was etched onto his face, clashing dangerously with his papaya race suit.

What was new, however, was that Lando's feet were placed neither on the third step of the podium nor the second. He stood victoriously on the top step, raising his large silver trophy above his head and beaming at the ecstatic crowd.

The Silverstone winners' green eyes meet yours in his struggle of drowning in champagne, mouthing, 'I love you.'

'I love you more,' you mouth back, no longer resisting the urge to let your proud tears escape your waterline. 

Hours later, the thrill of Lando winning his first race was as strong as ever. It twirled recklessly around you and Lando's sweaty bodies and booming music. The high-end club was overflowing with Formula One drivers and media personnel. All celebrating your boyfriend's first win, no doubt.

You and Lando had been separated at some point during the night, lost in the purple and blue LED lights of the club, and you found yourself dancing with whoever had been willing to. Witnessing his girlfriend sway against the bodies of a stranger hadn't bothered him, because the two of you were aware that no one could touch you like he could—make you feel as good as he could.

Fuck, his blue jeans grew tighter against his crotch, eyes stubbornly planted on the curve of your hips and watching as they moved seductively to the beat of the music.

The hair on the nape of your neck rose, somehow aware that someone was watching you. You detach yourself from the stranger—a fairly attractive blond in his late twenties—and turn around only to be met with your boyfriend's eyes for the second time that day.

When he turns back around to face the bartender, you advance towards his seat and wrap your arms around his waist from behind.

"Hi, baby," he smiles as you rub your forehead against the crook of his neck.

Like a cat, he thinks.

"Hey," you murmur, muffled by the cotton of his black shirt. Breathing in, you think you have become drunk on the deep musk of his cologne. "Y'smell so good."

Lando tips his head back with a boastful laugh, but it falters when he feels your soft lips slowly trailing up his neck, smirking, "Yeah? You wanna take this someplace else?"

You crane your neck up, biting your bottom lip as you nod shyly. Lando doesn't need any further confirmation; he stands up, and your hands consequently fall from his tan stomach. A whine nearly escapes you at the loss of physical touch, but he's quick to interlace your hand in his.

Sometimes, you believe he can read your mind.

"Don't let go," he demands, pushing past the swarm of drunken crowds (and also leading you to rub your thighs together in hopes of relieving yourself, but you chose not to acknowledge it).

In a matter of thirty minutes, you were able to escape the suffocating atmosphere and catch a cab back to your hotel. The moment the door of the hotel room shut behind you, Lando placed both of his veiny hands on your waist, pressing your bodies together and attacking your lips.

Your body was on fire, and the pit in your stomach screamed for relief. Lando couldn't fucking stop kissing you. And even if he could, he wouldn't dare be the first to pull away.

Lando Norris was not one for alcohol, but he would get drunk off the peachy scent of your conditioner if he could. 

The driver's hand stilled on your cheek to tip your head back and deepen the kiss, while the other tugged on the hem of your little black dress. You let out a pathetic whimper against his lips, and Lando takes it as permission to slip his tongue inside.

Hesitantly, you pull away, albeit not very far. You could count Lando's faint freckles, and your nose brushes against his occasionally. You meet his eyes and fight the urge to look down at your feet because he's looking at you like you hung the fucking stars in the sky. A grin breaks out on his face, and he resumes his feathery touches on your dress. "C'mon, baby, take this off f'me."

You blink dumbly at him. Lando doubles over, emitting that laugh that you love so much. That hyena-like, gigglish shriek. When it dawns on you that you might be staring a little too hard, you immediately reach for your dress, lifting it above your hips and shrugging it off your shoulder.

Lando curses softly under his breath and urgently lays his palms back on your hips. He presses your lips together again, softer and gentler, and your heart aches. Warmth consumes you as you lean into the kiss, Lando's lips impossibly soft against your own.

Lando gently taps his index finger on the crease separating your ass and thighs. You know, just from his touch, what he needs, and of course you do; there have been too many nights of you waking up together, tangled in white bedsheets, for you not to.

You jump, your lips still connected, and your head dizzy from his touch. His palms wrap beneath your legs, carrying you to bed like you weighed about as much as a feather. 

And like, Lando manhandling you shouldn't make you want to ride him till he cries, but it does. It only made the need in between your thighs stronger. 

Soon enough, you're splayed out on his sheets with Lando's pillowy lips sucking all over your neck, painting it with soft hues of lilac.

The fabric covering your boyfriend's body makes you jut your bottom lip out, whining, "Take it off, Lan, please."

Lando pulls away with half-lidded eyes, resting on his calves as he fumbles to free himself from the constraints of his clothes. And well, you definitely didn't lift your hips against his clothed dick at the sight of his defined abs. 

Lando breathes sharply and spreads your legs to rub your pussy through your panties. You whine, trying and failing to grind up against his palm because his other hand is firm against your lower stomach.

"Mm, so good f'me, so wet." Lando moans lightly, pushing your lace to the side, and—oh fuck, he's rubbing your clit.

You thrash against his touch, gasping as you heave out, "Lan, no, please, no."

The drivers' previous lust-filled eyes are tainted with worry now. "What's wrong, baby? I do somethin'?"

You almost chuckle fondly at how fast he retracts his arm from in between your thighs (and also cry). You shake your head, lifting your hand—which had been previously gripping at the sheets—to cradle his defined cheekbones.

"No, no, baby, 'tis not that," you gulp, and his wory morphs into confusion, urging you to continue. "I just, I dunno, I know how much you wanted to fuck me from the back, so I, uh, thought we could do it tonight."

Shit. 

Lando doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it was sure as fuck not that. To his own surprise, Lando somehow grows harder in the confines of his boxer. A grin adorns his face, despite the pain between his legs. "Fuck, you sure, baby? I know I jus' won a race, but that doesn't mean we have to, princess."

"I know," you reassure him, trailing your hand down to his boxers and palming at his erection. "I want to; y'looked so fucking hot on that top step."

"Yeah?" He sucks in a sharp breath, and you hum sweetly, squeezing his dick harder.

Lando's hips stutter against your touch, grinding down in an attempt to relieve his ache. Mustering up his last shred of dignity, Lando somehow manages to pull away, making you whine for what felt like the 1000th time tonight.

He chuckles, stepping off the bed to tug his boxers down and reach for the strawberry-scented lube on his nightstand that, as you both learned, all high-end hotels supplied. Lando eagerly sits in the space of your spread legs, leaning forward to place wet kisses along your collarbone till he reaches your tits.

You moan softly when he wraps his hot mouth around your nipple, and Lando goes fucking ballistic. The sound echoes in his head like a broken radio. Lando wants to take it out and store it in a guarded safe somewhere in India. 

The driver alternates between each boob, flicking his tongue against one and rolling the nub of the other with his fingers. Your hand quickly finds solace in his curls, arching your back to bring him closer. When he pulls away with a kiss to your sensitive nub, you find it hard not to be hyper-aware of the thick cock resting against your thigh.

You roll your hips impatiently, and satisfaction engulfs your body when Lando reaches for the discarded lube on the bed. With a pop, he pulls the lid and squeezes a generous amount on his palm. He rubs his hands together, the friction warming the lube well.

You would be a liar if you said a swarm of erratic butterflies hadn't swarmed your stomach. Lando would make this enjoyable; you knew that, but he couldn't completely take the pain away. Taking a deep breath in, you reach for Lando's clean hand.

He intertwines them beside your hip without asking a question.

He pokes a wet finger against your rim, asking, "You ready, love?"

"Yup," popping the 'p', satisfied with yourself at how well you were hiding your nerves.

Lando pushes in, and he barely has half of his index finger inside you, but holy fuck, the sight drives him crazy. The hold on his hand tightens, and he forces his eyes away from his finger wrapped around your asshole to look at you.

"H-how're you feeling, love?" Lando stutters at the feeling of your asshole clenching around his digit. "Relax, baby, you've gotta relax f'me, please."

Tears well up on your waterline, blurring your vision of Lando kneeling in front of you. It took a few seconds, but the pain eventually subsided, and Lando took that as a sign to push deeper.

Lando tries his absolute hardest not to moan loudly, instead focusing on the heat of your ass wrapped around his index. He removes it, leaving no time for you to question him before he shoves a second finger inside.

"Oh!" You arch your back, eyebrows furrowing, when the pleasure starts bubbling in your stomach. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Shit," Lando says, because your writhing against his fingers, begging for more, more, more, has reduced him to a man of few words. "Doin' so fucking well for me, baby."

The driver continues to fuck his fingers into your ass, twisting and curling every once in a while. Your head tilts back against the mattress, and your mouth hangs in a permanent 'o'.

"You think y'ready for m'cock, darling?" 

You don't--cant-- bring yourself to answer. Your mind, you believed, had officially melted into a puddle, spilling out of your ear. Lando curls his fingers, as if nudging you on the shoulder and saying, Hey, I'm talking to you.

You screech, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. His gaze, that makes you feel so delicate. His gaze, that makes your head void of any thoughts. His gaze, that you wanted on you forever.

You nod, and he carefully pulls his digits out. Lando grips the base of his cock lazily because he knows he won't be able to last long, and he'd be damned if he was about to spend one less second inside you. 

Lando lines his dick up against your stretched-out rim, fingers untangling from yours, and instead rests them on the small of your waist. When Lando pushes the tip inside your hole, the pain that shoots up your spine causes your hands to fly up to your back, clawing at him to distract yourself. 

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," Lando repeats like a prayer.

You felt so fucking wet, so tight around his cock. Lando was sure that if he died like this—naked, sweaty, and with his cock shoved deep inside your ass—he'd die happily.

The feeling of Lando's fingers was incomparable to the sensation—and pain—of his length filling you up inch by inch. The room smells of sex, Lando's perfume, and strawberry-scented lube, and once the pain finally subsided, you realized you needed him fully inside you now.

You wrap your legs around his hips, the balls of your feet pressing against his lower back as you beg, "Please, Lan, I need you, need you to fill me up, please."

Lando swears under his breath, hands gripping at your waist so hard that you're sure you'd look in the mirror the next morning to see your hips painted a lilac and indigo blue sunset. He pushed further inside, his eyes glued to your asshole, stretching to accommodate his thickness and sucking him in, moaning loudly when you accidentally clenched around him.

"Fuck, baby, y-you're taking all of me," Lando gasps in disbelief, biting his bottom lip as his eyes roll back.

You haven't said a single thing, reduced to a whimpering mess and tear-stained cheeks. When your fingernails dig deeper into his back, Lando blinks, ripped out of his lust-haze trance.

Lando tries to focus. Really, he does. But shit, you're clenching sinfully around his cock and fluttering around it as if to say, more more more.

"Lando," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear, painting his back with crescent moons from your fingernails (you'd feel bad if it wasn't for his dick splitting you in half). "Fuck me."

Lando groans at that, wasting no time before pulling his hips back and slamming them back inside. You shrieked, and at this point, you were sure that Lando's back was bleeding from your nails' assault.

You look up at Lando through your eyelashes, jutting out your bottom lip. Your boyfriend's hips don't falter when he leans down and kisses you. It was different. It was messy and hot, and you let out a choked sob against his lips.

With wide eyes, Lando pulls away. "Are you okay, baby? 'Doin so fucking well f'me, fuck, good girl."

You moan, the praise making you impossibly more horny, and nod your head frantically, reaching for your clit between your thighs. Lando tuts, removing a hand from your pretty waist to plant your arms against the pillow above you. 

"Please, Lan, I need it, need it so bad." You helplessly grind your clit against nothing.

And who the hell was Lando Norris to say no?

With the new-found pleasure of relieving clit, you are 100% sure that if you ever were to die and go to heaven, it would look like this. It would feel like this.

Lando isn't ashamed that he wouldn't last long, not when you feel this fucking good, not when he can hear your high-pitched moans and uneven breaths. With a stutter of his hips and a particularly loud groan, you already knew he was close.

"Fuck! Baby, I-I cant," he doubles over, frantically rubbing tiny circles against your clit and attacking your neck with his lips. "I'm gonna-"

You arch your back as though you're getting a fucking exorcism because, holy shit, the feeling of his hot semen filling you up is way hotter than it should be. Lando pistons his hips in and out of you through his high, and with one last cry, black spots cover your vision. 

"Fuck!- oh, fuck, lan, lan, lan," you repeat his name like a prayer because he might as well be god. Your arms thrash in Lando's hold, already yearning for his touch like you always do post-sex.

Lando releases a guttural groan as he pulls his softening dick out, twitching when your asshole involuntarily clenches around him. You're still breathing so fucking loud when he collapses beside you and wraps an arm around your neck to rest your head against his chest.

Lando shifts, tugging the thick blanket around your sweaty, cum-painted bodies before you hear, "Shit! Baby, didn't mean to hold 'em that hard, does it hurt?" 

You furrow your brows, following Lando's eyeline; your otherwise plain wrists were adorned with the scarlet imprint of your boyfriend's hand. 

Shrugging, you scoot up and bury your forehead on the crook of his neck, mumbling, "Don't care."

Lando places a mental reminder to put some cream on it in the morning, but for now, he's happy to place small kisses on the top of your head, whispering praises and 'thank you's into your ear.

When you rub your head against him shyly at his words, Lando can't help but laugh fondly at you.

Like a cat, he thinks again.

Lemme know how you liked this story or give me some feedback in the comments or my inbox! 💬🧸

Reblogs and likes are always appreciated 💌💌

[followthebluebell]

Who are the current roster of residents at your work? I know Roomba is, and that there are at least two Persians, but I can't keep them straight in my head. Q was a resident but then got adopted?

My current residents are:

Roomba (bengal - 13-15? years old, blind, female)

VERY LOUD; loves kittens, waffles wildly between loving adult cats or absolutely hating them. Sometimes to the same cat. She adores Maddie the most and will try to cuddle up to her as much as possible but since Maddie has been going into the Impossible Zone (the couch upstairs) lately, Roomba has been cozying up to Pookie.

Has lymphoma but we're trying to make her time comfortable. She's got a severe sensitivity to poultry and fish, so her food has to be beef, venison, lamb, rabbit, pork, or goat. Her favorite is lamb. On her good days, she likes to play fetch with her favorite purple plastic ball or green spring. I don't know why those are her favorites. She just plays with them longer than any of the other plastic balls or springs.

She's usually found in the office/kitchen.

Butterscotch (persian - 3? years old, blind, male; misaligned jaw)

Looks ancient, is actually a young man. He is permanently scrungly. He likes to play with pieces of garbage. He's got plenty of actual cat toys to play with, but he just wants to play with the little plastic wrap that comes off the tops of bottles and such. He's VERY sweet to people; he mostly ignores other cats. If another cat sleeps by him, he's fine. He just doesn't really seek them out.

His jaw is misaligned, which makes his face look even stranger than a typical persian's. We're not sure what happened to it. It may just be a birth defect, it may be a broken jaw that never healed right. It doesn't seem to bother him TOO much, but it does mean his face needs extra cleaning.

He doesn't like any wet food, except for sardines. Otherwise, he likes the cronch. He likes to sleep in exclusively uncomfortable places.

Pookie (british shorthair - 1 year old, female, FIV+)

VERY playful and outgoing. She likes to greet anyone who walks in. People are delighted by her. They think she's the best thing either (they are not wrong). She's cat social, but doesn't really want to play with other cats. She just likes to exist around them.

She's a menace in the office. She's learned that if the phone goes off, someone will sit down at the desk and she can annoy them until they pet her. She knocks things off the desk too and thinks it's a lot of fun to play with and rip up pages in the appointment book.

She's generally found in the office or on the front couch.

Penelope (persian, 2-3? years old, female)

Also outgoing, but much more relaxed. Penelope mostly wants to sit on someone's lap. Her favorite toys are crinkle balls--- the little cellophane ones--- and tunnels. She likes to sit at the edge of a tunnel and bat at feet as people walk past. She also likes pens, especially if someone is using one.

She likes to sit in the office chair. I think it's because she knows someone will sit there eventually and have no choice but to let her sit on their lap, but also she doesn't have very many brain cells, so I'm not sure she can fully conceptualize that sort of plan.

She tends to pick a new Favorite Place every week.

Maddie (persian, 12-13? years old, female)

Winner of the 'Are you alive...?' contest two years running. She's a picky eater and will only eat things that she sees Roomba eating. I'm not sure they recognize the other as 'alive'. Maddie adores people, as long as they aren't trying to brush her. Then she grudgingly tolerates them for a few minutes at a time before deciding to go somewhere else.

She's permanently snotty. She's been tested for many, MANY things to ensure it's not contagious--- the vet's guess is that a fungal infection caused a severe allergic reaction which resulted in nasal polyps. Combined with her very tiny nostrils, she's got some permanent drip going on there. It's... unclear whether or not surgery is a wise option. She's a senior cat, a persian, and already has breathing problems :/ We might just have to wipe her face frequently.

She's not a fan of that either, for the record.

I'm hoping that Penelope and Pookie will go up for adoption one day. There's literally no reason why they could not be adopted and I'd prefer to keep the office pet slots for cats that cannot be rehomed for behavioral or health reasons.

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Chapter 1/?)

Warning! implied marital rape at the end

25 ac Oldtown 

Rhaellas pov

I’m sitting next to Mama resting my head on her belly feel the baby move around. Kepus is getting married to a lady named Ceryse Hightower. I keep looking up at the ceiling as I love the art up there.

“Darling it’s time to watch and pay attention, the bride is coming down the aisle.” Mama says as Papa helps her stand up before he reaches over to pick me up so I can watch.

“I still can’t believe Father agreed to this, he’s only ten and three, barely out of boyhood and now he’s getting wed off?” Papa says he’s been saying that a lot lately.

When I see the bride I gasp, her dress is so pretty. It's made out of white shiny smooth stuff, green butterflies on her shoulders, and she's wearing a gold tiara with bright green stones in it. I hope one day I look that pretty when I'm married. I look down at the dress I'm wearing and smile, it's dark purple just like Kepus's eyes, and it sparkled when I was in the sun.

“There is nothing we can do, it is their child, it is their choice.” Mama says hushing Rhaena who is in our Nursemaid's arms.

“She is ten years his senior, wouldn't her family want her with someone closer to her age?” Papa continues. 

“Most likely, but he is a prince, what better match would they find?” Mama responds as she rubs her back, she does that a lot now that her belly is so big.

I look over at Kepus, he doesn't seem happy, aren't people supposed to be happy when getting married? That's what Mama and Papa say at least, so why does he seem sad?

Once the bride finally meets Kepus at the alter the Stepton starts warping ribbon around their hands. 

“What is the ribbon for?” I whisper to Papa, or I at least try. 

“It's symbolic, the ribbon is a way to show their union is strong, that they are now bound, tied together forever.”  For some reason, I don't like the thought of Kepus being bound to someone, to her.

I grow curious again when they start chanting the same thing “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his-her's, he-she is mine from this day until the end of my days.” 

“Why are they saying the same things?”

Papa chuckles when Mama giggles at my curiosity, they always say I'm as curious as a cat. 

“They are swearing before the gods that they are now bound, married.” Papa explains rubbing my back when I start to pout. He must not realize I don't like Kepus being married because he says this instead. “Shhh, you can stand on your own soon darling.” 

Once they are announced husband and wife everyone claps and cheers loudly. It startles me and Rhaena causing Mama and Papa to try and calm us down as Rhaena screams and I start to cry. 

“I told you bringing them to the wedding wasn't a good idea.” Mama says trying to get Rhaena to calm down. 

“They were fine until it got too loud for their little ears, isn't that right darling.” Papa says as he kisses my head and rests my head on his shoulder covering my other ear with his hand. 

Papa's hand are soft, not bumpy on the palms like Kepus, I want Kepus's hands to hold me, not Papa's.

Maegors pov

I know the Lords and Ladies are cheering, but all I can hear is Rhaella's sobs. Must be too loud, she never did like large crowds or loud noises, let alone the two combined. I think to myself trying to to scream at the crowd to shut up.

“Are you ready for the feast, husband?” My now wife, lady Ceryse Hightower asks with a smirk. 

She is beautiful, I'll give her that, but there is no world where she could match the fire within me. 

“I suppose.” 

She doesn't seem to like my short responses, as she frowns but quickly hides it with a fake joyful smile.

As we walk out I catch sight of Rhaella, Aenys seems to be trying to calm her down. But she keeps shrugging off his touch, hopefully, she will enjoy the feast and festivities more than this worthless wedding. I swear I've caught at least five lords snoring in their seats, seems they found it just as hard to stay awake with the Septons hour long speech of love and marriage before I was actually married.

Once we make it out of the Stary Sept we climb into a carriage to wave and greet the small folk as they rejoice in this farce. 

“we didn't have the chance to truly yet to know each other, so I had a thought, what if we did a game as we ride towards the festivities?” Ceryse asks fixing her necklace. She doesn't seem excited by the idea, but I would much rather do this ‘game’ over sitting in uncomfortable silence.

“What sort of game?” 

“Hmm, hpw about I ask you a question and you have to answer it? This of course goes both ways.”

“Fine.” I say with a annoyed and resigned sigh.

“I'll go first then!” She says only to stop and think for a moment. “What is your favorite color?” 

The first thing that comes to my mind is Rhaella's eyes, those pools of lavender that just looking at makes you feel calm and at ease. But I can't answer with that, for it doesn't seem like he best way to start a marriage, by declaring I love to stare into my little niece's eyes. 

Then I turn to Rhaella’s hair, those wild pure sliver riglets. How you can always find, I imagine you’d only lose her in the snow they are that pure and uncorrupted, just like her. 

The last thought is how when Rhaella laughs her rosy cheeks almost become a true crimson. The way her laughter always sets off mine. It always makes the worst days better somehow. Always makes my soul feel like it isn't a pit of pure blackness ready to destroy everything dear to me, but instead, it has some joy yet to be dug up and found for the world to see. 

And when I look down at my crimson red jerkin I know the answer, I don’t even need to think anymore.

“Red.” 

“Oh? I find red too angry of a color, I much prefer the calmness of green. though I see the appeal it is one of your house cars after all.” Ceryse answers even without me asking her the same question. 

A talker it seems. I think dryly as she keeps rambling on, and on about what colors she deems gorgeous and the ones she deems not worthwhile and why. 

Once we finally make it to the Hightower I partially bolt out of the carriage to escape that woman’s gods forsaken chatter. How one could love the sound of their own voice that much is beyond me.

I take her hand out of habit, for I was always taught to take my mother's, Rhaella's, and now hers.

When we enter everyone cheers and I notice my brother cover Rhaella's ears leaning down to whisper reassuring words to calm you down. She squirms in his lap trying to stay calm but the way her little face frowns and petal lips pout I doesn't seem my brother is succeeding. 

“I heard you are quite close to your eldest niece.” Ceryes says as she smiles and waves at all who have come to celebrate in our union. 

“Yes, what of it?” 

She seems to flinch at my cold tones before answering. “Only that we both have that in common, we adore our families and would do anything for them.” She responds trying to stay cheery.

As soon as we make it to the high table my father begins a speech. The same speech he does at every feast. His nonsense of how we must stand as one realm and how unions between houses will further the seven Kingdoms prosperity. 

Every time I hear it I can't help but roll my eyes, these whole already know this, they don't need their King reminding them at every fucking wedding. 

I drown out my father hoping his speech will end. maybe it will bore me to death and I won't have to truly go through with this wedding? I think dryly until Rhaella leans over Aeny's reaching for me. 

“Kepus, I want Kepus!” She demands a loom of fury on her face. She must have been denied me too many times this eve. 

For the rest of the feast I hold my little niece close letting her play with my rings and cloak. It almost seems like everything will be fine again, like it's just the two of us in her favorite field to pick flowers so she can make flower crowns for me and her. But soon it crashes down, the bedding ceremony begins and Rhaella is taken to her chambers to sleep the night away, already having fallen asleep against my chest. 

The rest is a blur, all I remember is wishes for those woman to stop touching me, and once they did I have Ceryse undressing me. 

I lay the rest of the night awake trying not to think about how I still feel like a boy, not a man who must make children. A boy who shouldn't have been touched the way I was, I fight the bile that rises in my throat all night forcing it back down. I keep reminding myself this is my duty, this is what I must do for the good of my family, and I can not tremble, I can not be scared, and I can not hide from this anymore.

I turn my skin to steel, and my heart to stone. But try as I must, my soul will not turn cold, for Rhaella has already changed it for the better. 

And with that thought I turn onto my side and pray to the fourteen again that sleep will find me, and it seems this time they truly did hear me.

Series Masterlist

special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I would be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl @sachaa-ff @baybaybear1

[anxiousthoughts365]

Dress Up

Very NSFW, minors DNI. Halloween is mentioned but this is very definitely a no Voldy AU

Halloween is a night that they all enjoy. It gives them the chance to relax, to get a little loose and a little drunk without feeling like they have to behave themselves, like they might at the annual Potter family Christmas parties that they've all attended for the past three years since leaving Hogwarts.

The Marauders like to dress up for Halloween, and of course, James and Sirius usually take things to the next level with extravagant and obscure designs. Peter likes a nice, straight-forward costume that he doesn't have to explain to anyone. And since moving in with James two years ago, Regulus has been dragged into the tradition, and has mostly willingly played along.

Remus often just does something half-arsed. Even though he enjoys seeing everyone else's costumes, he already feels like a monster all year round, so he can't see the point of donning one himself to let everyone else see him that way, too.

In past years, he's made do with as little as possible: a crooked purple wizard's hat and small round spectacles (Dumbledore); a headband with fuzzy ears and eyeliner stripes that he'd had Sirius draw across his cheeks (the cat that sometimes lingered around the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts); a black jumper with white lines painted on it (a skeleton).

This year, however, Remus has gained enough courage to properly dress up. Well, perhaps it's not entirely courage alone that has led to his choice of costume this evening. Sirius' daily tantrums in the lead up to the Potter-Black Halloween party also went quite a long way to him deciding that he'd actually make an effort this year, if only to stop the man's insistent whining.

But he's already incredibly uncomfortable, and he hasn't even left his and Sirius' flat yet. The four of them had gotten together to get ready, like old times, before they were to head over to the Potter mansion in time for the party. But at this point, Remus doesn't know if he'll actually be able to step outside his own front door.

He grimaces at his reflection in the floor-length mirror in their hallway, self-consciously tugging at the zip on the front of his ridiculously tight, iridescent green body suit. He doesn't dare to let it open any lower than his collar bones - it would reveal too much of his scarring.

But he'd wanted to be Bowie - specifically, Oh You Pretty Things on The Old Grey Whistle Test Bowie. And this is what he'll have to suffer tonight to achieve that look. He's just debating whether it will be worth the suffering when James bounds into the hall from the living room, where the others had been dressing. He takes one look at Remus, and quite comically stops dead mid-bound.

'Fuck me, Lupin,' James whistles appreciatively. Remus blushes, but before he can grumble at his friend, Peter wanders out behind James, fiddling with the front of his own outfit.

'Why is Moony fucking you?' he asks, then looks up from fixing his last button and catches sight of Remus. His eyes pop wide, and a salacious grin spreads over his plump cheeks as he purrs, 'Forget James, Remus, fuck me!'

'Why are we all fucking my boyfriend?' comes a third voice, heavy enough with petulance that Remus doesn't even need to see Sirius to know that he's pouting. His possessiveness of Remus is, at times, endearing. At other times, it's downright distracting.

But then Sirius is in the hallway with them, and Remus forgets all about how distracting Sirius' passions can be. Because Sirius is distraction himself tonight.

He's dressed as Mark Bolan, because of fucking course he is. One mild suggestion he'd found in an old, obscure Muggle magazine that Mark and David were 'close', and Sirius had been instantly convinced that the stars had carried out a secret gay affair. He'd gone so far as to beg Remus to be Bowie this year, just so they could do a couples' costume. He'd even said that Remus could choose his Bowie era, which had definitely swung his case. It also didn't hurt that he'd always found Mark Bolan rather attractive.

But in Remus' opinion, Mark Bolan has absolutely nothing on the man before him. Sirius' black hair has been teased into loose curls that hang around his face and shoulders. He's managed to dig a sequinned purple blazer out from Gods-only-know-where, and his tight black leather pants are leaving very little to Remus' imagination.

The smear of khoal around the man's eyes holds Remus' attention for a few minutes, but then he meets Sirius' gaze, and everything in him goes tight. Because while he's been looking at Sirius, Sirius has been looking at him, and Remus wonders just how much of the lust and need that he can see on his boyfriend's face is currently reflected in his own expression.

'Lads,' Sirius croaks, breaking the thick silence that had suddenly descended on the flat. He doesn't look away from Remus as he murmurs, 'You both go on ahead. Moony and I are going to need a minute.' His eyes, burning pools of molten silver, rake down Remus' body, and his voice is unbearably tight when he adds, 'Make that twenty minutes.'

James retches, but Peter is chuckling and coo'ing at them to stay safe, kids as he pulls the other boy down the hall, squeezing past where Remus stands, immobilised. The front door slams shut behind them, and Sirius is instantly moving. Between one blink and the next, he's down the hall, and all at once he's practically climbing Remus' lanky form, winding slender fingers into his thick brown curls and pulling him down into a bruising kiss.

'Bloody hell, Moons,' Sirius breathes, nipping non-too-gently at Remus' lower lip. 'You look incredible.'

'Me?' Remus huffs, reaching down to grab a handful of Sirius' arse. The leather is moulded so closely to his skin that it almost feels like he's wearing nothing, and Remus whines, burying his face against Sirius' neck. 'These should be illegal, Padfoot. I don't think I can let you wear them outside of this flat.'

'That's alright,' Sirius gasps, his hips canting when Remus' teeth graze his throat. 'I only wore them - ah - f-for you anywayyyooooh, fuck!'

'Is that so?' Remus smirks, continuing to move the hand that he's somehow managed to squeeze into the front of Sirius' very tight trousers. The man's black-rimmed eyelids flutter, and Remus is grinning as he goes on, 'Well, that must mean I can do whatever I like with them, right?'

'You can do whatever you like to any part of me,' Sirius pants, but then he pauses, his eyes clearing slightly as he adds, 'Except for my hair. It took me ages.'

'There he is,' Remus chuckles, extracting himself from Sirius' trousers and instead hoisting the shorter man up into his arms. 'Thought I'd lost you for a minute, there.'

'I'm always with you, Moony,' Sirius breathes, his eyes going hazy again as he wraps his legs around Remus' narrow waist. The contact and friction spur Remus on through their flat to their bedroom, and it's a vague, distant thought when he wonders if they'll actually make it to the party this year.

[viceconnor21]

After two years I finally redesigned Grian's design in my AU. Turns out there is a horse in greek mythology with bird back legs. It was kinda perfect.

Tripwire Personality Traits (short version):

Gremlin energy

Hippalectryon

Extremely powerful but still learning to control it

God of Wisdom and Strategy (He doesn't know that)

Don't let him near buttons

Always coming up with new games for the town to play

Sad boi when he loses control of his power

Loves to be annoying

Defiant towards authority

Calls Darling Dozy anything but his actual name

Makes it his mission to be everyone else’s problem

No memory of early childhood

Raised by birds

Has been a drifter for as long as he can remember

Always felt like he was searching for something until he found his forever home in Hermit Valley

Partner: Terraform Best friend: Crimson Dust Mother: Soul Keeper Father: Crow Keeper Brothers: Day Shaker and Final Sonata

Story clip and Background:

Tripwire watched Terraform’s ears flick in his sleep. Tripwire could tell that he was dreaming, as he mumbled something about cats. Tripwire could only smile to himself in the darkness of the room. He was so lucky to find Hermit Valley. It had been several moons since he stumbled onto Terraform tangled in that tree. Tripwire was grateful for that day. The odd creature he had helped down from the tree had all but begged him to come back to town with him, eager to treat both to a well deserved meal. That was so long ago now, but he remembered it like it was yesterday. However, despite how much Tripwire loved his life in this current moment, sadness tugged at his heart. As he stared into the dark, he tried really hard to remember anything from his childhood. Today, just like any other day he was drawing a blank. He was such an odd creature, with his bird back legs, equine front legs, break, and four wings. He came from somewhere. Tripwire longed to remember his family, the people who he had no doubt loved him at one point. He could remember foggy voices with no real meaning. A kind sounding older male, singing him to sleep. His father maybe. He could also recall the strums of guitar, and a different male singing along. Trip didn’t know why but this voice frightened him a bit. Then there was a third voice; one still wrapped in adolescence. He also remembered a haze of green and black feathers engulfing him in a warm hug. Along with these muddled memories, he often dreams of the burry face of a soft purple mare with a golden horn. Through the mist of dreams, the mare radiates power, but he can’t help but feel as though she is watching over him. It is almost as if he can feel her love just beyond a veil.

Even with being as young as he was, Tripwire felt like he never fit in with the other creatures his brothers and his father associated with. In this wide land from home in the Burrow (Borough) to his brothers’ home of L’Maneberg, Tripwire never felt like this was where he was meant to be. Everybody seemed to view him as an oddity. Even his brothers seem to look at him with a peculiar mix of curiosity, love, and resentment. He knew why of course. His brothers were a fair bit older than him, and he was the only one of them who was a true biological son of their father. Tripwire also knew that the circumstances of his birth were a fair bit dubious at best, given that nobody outside the close-knit family knew who his mother was. That wasn’t his fault. He never viewed himself as any better than his siblings. He looked up to his siblings, and was alway ecstatic when they came to visit him and his father. They always visited him in the Burrow. He didn’t leave the Burrow and his father barely let him out of his sight. He was very young, only just beginning to fly. He had very little control of his powerful magic, but he supposed that was part of the problem. He was the son of a skilled hippogriff warrior and an ultra-powerful death goddess alicorn. He looked weird too. He took on his father’s traits for the most part, but his mother’s powerful genes just refused to be repressed. On top of that, his mother’s Divine blood decided to endow him with a second set of wings and a fierce amount of power that was sometimes hard to subdue. The god-like power wasn’t just for show either. Much like his draconequus uncle, was the walking god of war, and the solar sister was the goddess of the sun, Tripwire had a role to play in the strings of faith. Of course, at this point, the colt was too young to comprehend his true power, much less control it. While his mother was unable to walk the living dimension, his father did his best to raise the demigod. However, trouble was brewing. Tripwire could feel it on the wind, see it in the stress etched in his father’s face, in the way his brothers came home one day; wrapped in bandages and smelling of smoke. Tripwire was too young to understand what it was or what it meant. It came to a head when his father came home, wide-eyed and dirty. His feathers were singed and his eyes were red from crying. Without saying anything, he scooped Tripwire up in his arms, and continued to weep. All Tripwire could do was hold his father close. He did not know it at the time, but that would be his final night with his father, and the final night in his home.

Unknown to the young colt, a war was raging just outside the walls, and just passed the border of the Burrow. It was a long and drawn out war for justice and independence that was slowly shifting towards a struggle for control and power. The night his father came home in tears, was the night Trip’s oldest brother was killed in that struggle. However, that was not the end of the sorrow. While Crowkeeper tried very hard to keep Tripwire’s existence known to very few, rumors of his existence and more importantly his power began creeping among the ranks of power hungry legionnaires and mercenaries. Crowkeeper knew his son would soon be in danger. He knew his son had the capability to cause devastation. Creatures would try to use his son’s abilities to gain power in any way possible. Crowkeeper and Soul Keeper decided that for his own safety and the protection of others, Tripwire would be sent away. However, knowledge of his whereabouts in any sense could leave him open to danger. It was decided for his own good, his mother would wipe his memories and send him far away to a place not even Crowkeeper knew. Tripwire’s faith could not be left to chance.Tripwire could be a force of great creation or destruction. If left with the wrong people, Tripwire might never find his true purpose in this world. In addition, without the guidance and the protection of his father, Tripwire could be hurt or succumb to his own overwhelming power. Options were weighed. It was decided that Crowkeeper and Soul Keeper’s flock would care for and guide the colt. The mixed flock of different birds would keep the boy safe. They would find food and shelter for the child. They would teach and comfort the boy as he wandered the land looking for a place that he could truly call a home. As the boy grew into a teenager, then into a young adult, the intervention of his unknown protectors lessened. The flock shrunk as their charge grew and learned to care for himself. Finally, only one purple magpie was left, keeping an eye on the boy barely seen Trip as he went through his days of searching for something he really didn’t understand. He searched the land blindly, starting to believe that whatever he was looking for was a foal’s errand. That was until he met the creature known as Terraform. From the tallest limb of that apple tree, that purple and gold magpie watched as Terraform insisted that Tripwire should be properly thanked for his kindness. Finally, satisfied that she had led her son to a community that would help him thrive, she left him in the capable paws of the excitable Terraform. He brought him to the valley that Tripwire would instantly love and soon call home.

Tripwire is the hybrid offspring (Hippalectryon) of Crow Keeper and Soul Keeper. Tripwire is a chaos-loving young colt, who has a knack for traps and planning. (In reality, he has a knack for planning traps but not really seeing those traps to fruition.) With his partner in crime, Terraform, Tripwire has learned that he not only has the talent for planning but also executing those plans into elaborate works of art. While Tripwire originally believed his cutie mark was to represent his ability with traps, it actually symbolized his unique gift for organization, design, and strategy. With the help of his friends in the Settlement of Hermit, Tripwire would soon realize he was the god of Wisdom and Strategy. With this realization, is slowly unlocking his true power as a god.

However, not all is sunlight and the power of friendship. Tripwire was still born of mortal flesh. He is young and his power levels are still unstable. Tripwire can be capable of great feats of destruction when his emotions go unchecked. There are times, the power is too great for Tripwire to restrain and it can cause him physical and mental anguish. Strong emotions like fear and anger can trigger this intense state of being. His “god mode” comes with several pairs of extra wings and disembodied eyes. His eyes start to glow a deep purple as his power begins to overwhelm his physical form. Power beyond his control may rip and alter his body and mind to the point where he can no longer recognize those he calls friends. In his worst episodes, he loses all sense of himself. It is in times like these that he must rely on his friends to bring him back from the edge of madness.

[ackerlikesmen]

Nicercy Headcanon

So, I'd imagine Percy being taller and more built than Nico. From the little I've read, it seems Percy is more active and likes to work out and spar more. (I don't know that much, so if I'm wrong, tell me xxx)

But Nico is still strong and packing, too. He may be smaller, but he's mighty.

So I see a 'puppy dog' Percy (or Panther Percy cuz cat Percy is as real as dog Percy) nuzzling himself in Nico's lap. How the fuck does that work????? His tall boyfriend balling himself on his lap. Nico can't answer that, but they make it work somehow.

I'm setting the scene. Prepare to read.

An orange sun rests on the horizon as the blue sky fades into a dark purple. Nico unwinds by the sea. The legs of his lounge chair dig into the soft white sand. Not wanting sand between his toes (cuz... just no), he wears his black sandals. The sea-salt breeze, cool and crisp, caressed his face, carrying the sound of distant waves. Paradise awaits him; just add iced lemonade and his cute boyfriend.

Speaking of him, Percy's visiting his father's kingdom. Lord Poseidon requested Percy's attention, and not wanting to upset his old man, Percy left for Atlantis. Plus, he missed Triton and Amphitrite.

Maybe I should see Dad... perhaps another time.

The scent of sea salt intensifies, and soon, a figure emerges from the glistening ocean. Like second nature, his lips curve in a grin, and his heart burns at his approaching boyfriend. Despite his dry clothes, the sharp, clean smell of the ocean clung to him, a powerful and evocative fragrance. The sun paled in comparison to the radiant, golden hue of his skin.

Nico's confused about how Percy isn't a god.

Soon, he's greeted with a smile. "Enjoying the view?"

Nico licks his lips. "You bet, I am."

As expected, the sea prince rests on his lap, his head nestling in the crook of his neck, his soft hair tickling his skin. He gets a whiff of soft sea salt. Of course, his legs buckle under the boy's weight. Percy, despite his attempts to curl into a small ball, still covers his entire body. Nico can't see his own feet.

But that doesn't stop him from wrapping his arms around his love. He presses a kiss on top of his head. He feels Percy practically purring.

"I sometimes wonder if you're a cat in disguise."

Percy looks up. The green in his eyes glimmers like the calm sea before them. Call it a clique, but Nico can really get lost in them. Gladly, even. Percy only snorts before nestling in his chest again. Peace washes over Nico as he sighs and faces the descending sun. The world around them fades in the distance, leaving the two souls in peace.

Yep. This is paradise.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH--- my writing! Please don't cringe! I know it's OOC, but it's cute!

I don't know why, but I love it when Percy's a little spoon.

Even though he's taller than Nico and bulkier, he's still a sea cat and will curl himself in his lap.

Alright, I'm turning in for the night. xxx

[gay-for-the-snz]

Baggage (M, cold, pt. 1/3)

So I decided I wanted to do something self indulgent, so here we are! rewinding back in time a bit--a decade, in fact!--to explore what brought him to the west coast, and his initial few days there, meeting coworkers and trying to decide who he wants to be with a fresh start

First chapter POV comes from his boss, second will come from him. Slight CW for the fact that the Captain definitely views him as like...basically a kid, and addresses him as such, including in narration, but he is 19 here and of age, so dw about it

[part 1, part 2, part 3]

⁂

The baggage claim of an airport is not the most exciting way he could be spending his Sunday morning--in the wee hours, no less--but the travel cup of coffee he'd hastily made in those bleary moments before making the drive is starting to seep into him enough to actually take effect. Bill's instructions for picking the whelp up had been exceedingly vague of who he was looking for--nothing more than that he was tall, long haired, and "impossible to miss." Scanning the crowd of people as they filter in and then back out, he's starting to doubt that this is necessarily the case. The flow of people has slowed enough that he doubts there can be that many left to make it here. Only a few lonely suitcases remain on the carousel, and they're rapidly being picked up.

He's rechecking the flight information when a figure awkwardly makes its way to grab the last suitcase, and--

Oh. Well, perhaps he owes Bill an apology. He is impossible to miss.

He's a gangling youth, easily six foot but probably a few inches above, with a braid that hangs down past his ass and the same awkward disposition he'd ascribe to a newborn fawn.

"You're Elliott?"

"Uh--yes! I mean--yes, that's me. You're Mr. Addington?" He extends a hand to shake, a bracelet of tattooed pansies encircling his wrist.

"You can call me 'Captain'."

"Oh! Right, I'll, uh--I'll do that." He doesn't really look at him, avoiding eye contact like the plague. It doesn't do anything to make the black eye less noticeable, but he supposes he can't fault him for trying. It looks like a nasty one, shades of deep blues and purples ringed by the greens and yellows of healing that's already on its way out.

He opts to tactfully leave it alone for now. He's had a long flight, and a stranger grilling him about what on earth happened that's making him pick up stakes and move cross country with a couple day's notice likely isn't the way he's going to earn his trust. He gets the distinct sense that he's going to have to coax him out like luring one of the warehouse cats out of hiding to take it to the vet.

"Well!" He startles at the sudden transition. "Is that everything, or are we still waiting on any bags?"

"This is it."

He keeps his expression carefully neutral as he takes in the sight before him, this bedraggled kid who's got a black eye and nothing to him but two suitcases. It's sad. More than that, it's actually heartbreaking. "Alright. Did you eat anything on the plane? I'm thinking about stopping somewhere on the way back, getting a little breakfast, if you're not opposed to stopping."

"I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to get yourself something."

It doesn't escape his notice that he hasn't answered the question. That beanpole probably weighs a hundred thirty soaking wet. He's going to feed him, whether he asks for something or not. "Good! There's a diner close to home that should be just about open by the time we get there."

He takes one of the suitcases, despite the fact that he was very much not asked to, and drags it a few feet before hefting it up to avoid the broken wheel that doesn't seem to actually turn. "Come on, then, let's see if I remember where I parked."

"Oh, are you--"

"You can relax, that was a joke. I'm not so old yet that I'm going to lose my car at the airport." Hopefully. He hasn't done it in awhile. It helps that he wasn't flying this time, just picking someone up, well before dawn's bothered to crack.

By the time they actually make it out to where he's parked, he's beginning to half worry that he actually did lose track of it, but relief washes over him at the sight of the old pick-up. She's a beat up old thing, but she's beautiful to him.

"She ain't the prettiest, but she's reliable. More than I can say for my ex-wife!" Shockingly, the joke doesn't land. He just shrugs. Worth a shot to break the tension. "Hop in, we'll be out of here soon."

Elliott is, if nothing else, compliant. Not much of a talker, but he looks dead on his feet, and sinks against the door as soon as he's buckled.

"We've got about an hour and a half drive, so feel free to close your eyes. Not much to see at this time of day--a new coast is great in the daylight, but all we'll be passing for awhile are headlights and highway." And he could probably use the sleep.

"Oh, no, it's fine. If I, uhm, sleep now I don't think I'll get any sleep tonight. I wanna see what I can see." He scratches at the back of his neck, and straightens his posture somewhat, like he can't be caught being tired.

"Suit yourself." The radio is playing something soft in the background, static blurring the sound of Creedence with a commercial for something he can't make out. He gives it a few minutes before he leans over, offers him a cigarette. "You smoke?"

"Uh, no, sir."

"Good! Don't start." He strikes the lighter, then gestures with it towards the cigarette already in his mouth. "Mind if I do?"

"It's your truck, and you're already doing me a huge favor."

He throws it in the center console for later. "Speaking of!" Elliott winces. "Bill doesn't usually stick his neck out for anyone--he must be awfully fond of you."

"Oh! Well, that's nice of him. I don't think that I really, uh, have earned it, though."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen, sir."

"Nineteen! I remember being nineteen. Long time ago, mind you--I was probably nineteen before your parents were even born."

"Maybe..."

He's striking out hard, here. Usually it's a bit easier to get someone talking. "Well, whether you think he's a good judge of character or not, Bill thinks pretty highly of you to call me up and tell me that he's cashing in a favor like this. Said he had a real good kid that needed out of Virginia in a hurry. Said that you're a good worker." When Elliott doesn't respond, he just continues the conversation anyway. "Now he uh, didn't tell me where you're gonna be staying. You've sorted that out, I trust?"

"I don't need any help with that."

"So where is it?" He stares out the window, doesn't even attempt to glance back towards him. "That's what I thought, yeah. Alright, well, you're gonna be with me at least tonight until we've got you sorted out."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Then it's a good thing you're not asking. I'm telling you." If he's got anything to say to that, he keeps it to himself, but he's clearly not thrilled by the prospect. He takes to braiding one of the locks of hair that frames his face, clearly an old hand at this the way his fingers deftly run through the motions.

There's few enough cars on the interstate at this hour that he feels comfortable letting his gaze linger on him in his peripheral, paying more attention to the kid in his passenger seat than to the road ahead of him. It's not a good habit, sure, but it's a calculated risk, and despite how he looks, he's always been pretty sharp when it comes to figures. The training of being in business, he supposes. It certainly hasn't hurt him.

"You got family out here?"

"No, sir."

"All back in Virginia, then?"

"I...guess, yeah. At least for now."

"Are they planning on falling you out here after you're settled?"

"God, I hope not." He crosses himself instinctively.

"Not a great relationship, I take it?"

"No, sir."

"You don't have to call me 'sir'. But I can sympathize--I've got some family up in Alaska, but not much anymore. Two sisters and a brother, and a host of nieces and nephews, and a couple of great-'s by now, even. No kids of my own, though--not that I'm complaining. I don't think it would've served fatherhood well to be gone most of the time."

"Could we--could we talk about something else?"

"Anything your heart desires."

"I think I might actually try and sleep. You were right--there's not much to see, and I-I'm kind of tired..."

He's squirrely, clearly dodging this topic in particular, but he's got enough sense to let the poor beast alone--for now, at least. He's gonna have to ask him later, both because he wants the gossip, but also because if he has to worry about whatever he's mixed up in, he'd like to know before anything happens. " 'course. You just get yourself a little shut-eye, and I'll wake you when we get there?"

"Thank you..."

He must be exhausted, because it's only a couple of minutes later that he's snoring softly, weirdly curled in on himself in his sweatshirt, arms crossed protectively over his chest and head leaned against the cold window. He doesn't disturb him, just drives in relative silence aside from the radio to let him rest.

⁂

"Hey. Elliott. C'mon, up we get." He waits until he sees him stir to try again. "Wake up. We're here."

Elliott rouses, albeit slowly, and does his best approximation of a stretch in the cramped quarters for someone so tall. "Uhm..." He sniffs, digs a knuckle into the corner of his eyes to clear the vestiges of his nap from them. "Here?"

"Home."

"I thought we were--that you were stopping for breakfast?"

"I drove through somewhere. No point in stopping and getting caught in commuter traffic if we didn't have to." He shakes the paper baggie of McDonald's the same way he might shake a bag of dog treats for a wary pet. "It's just about breakfast time, I'd wager."

It's been breakfast time, the same way they've been here, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. The two cigarette butts drowned in the remnants of a water bottle are evidence, but there's no saying that he didn't smoke while he was driving. He clearly needed the rest, and is equally clearly someone who would apologize for trying to get it, so he doesn't present him the opportunity to have a reason to.

"Oh." In the daylight, he looks positively ghastly, the shadows under both eyes nearly the same shade as the bruising surrounding the one. He looks like he wants to say something more, but he doesn't get much further than to sniff and awkwardly get out of the car, stretch for all he's worth in the driveway.

"You're hungry, I'm sure?"

"I don't really feel like it."

"But?"

"No buts, just that I don't feel like I'm hungry."

It's gonna be pulling teeth to do anything nice for this kid, he can already tell. Well, whatever. He's not known for being shy, nor for being one to back down from a challenge. "Alright. You'll take something for the road, then."

"I don't--"

"It wasn't a question." He just won't give him a choice if he's going to make a bad one.

"Yes, si--uh--Captain."

"Good man! Come on, then, let's get your bags into the house." When he opens the door, he's immediately struck by the reminder that he had not been expecting company, nor has he hosted it in awhile.

It isn't a dump, by any means, but it's definitely a space that one might say "lacks a woman's touch". A collection of pipes and tins of tobacco on one of the shelves. A collection of mugs that haven't made it to the sink just yet, concentrated on the coffee table. The mounted crabs hanging over the mantel.

Elliott stares at it in what he can only describe as a mixture of amusement and repulsion.

"Well, listen, it's not everyone's taste." He carries the suitcase he's taken custody of into the house, gestures broadly towards the house as a whole. "Living room. Kitchen back there, bedrooms to the left, bathroom and laundry room to the right."

"It's very--uh--rustic."

He snorts. "Very diplomatic of you." He seems like a sweetheart, carefully walking on eggshells to be as tactful as he can about his interior design decisions. "You'll be staying in the guest room--it's nothing glamorous, but it's got a queen bed and a closet and electricity, and that's just about all anyone really needs around here." It also has some decor that some might describe as "tacky" or "hideous", but that's neither nor here.

"I still don't--you don't have to do this. I can just find a hotel, you don't have to open your home to me--I mean, I'm a stranger--"

"Anything you find around here is a dump and priced like it's the Ritz. You haven't got a car, and you don't know the town. If you don't want to stay, I'm not going to force you, but I am strongly encouraging you to just stay here." Perhaps he's coming on a bit strong, but there's so little reason to go somewhere else that he finds it difficult to imagine anyone would think it's honestly a good idea. He feels confident that it's merely that he doesn't want to impose--he's already said as much.

"...right. You're--you're right. I'm sorry. Thank you for opening your home to me. I'll--I'll pay for the time I'm here, of course, and help with anything you need. I don't, uh, take up a lot of space--I'm pretty quiet, and I'll probably just keep to myself--"

"We'll talk about this after you've had a chance to actually settle in. For now, go put your stuff down, take a gander at the house. Breakfast will be on the table when you want it."

Elliott doesn't seem entirely relieved, but he does seem to accept the order, and goes to drop his stuff in the room. In the meantime, he starts trying to clean things up somewhat. Gathers the mugs to the kitchen sink, and throws the coats that piled on the couch into the closet, and scoots the pile of newspapers into a slightly more organized pile of newspapers to clear a seat at the table.

It dawns on him that he's been at this for almost half an hour and still hasn't seen him return yet. The house isn't minuscule, but it certainly isn't large enough that he could've gotten lost.

He peers around the corner into the open doorway to the guest room, and is greeted by the sight of Elliott sprawled on the bed, having succeeded in getting as far as taking off his short cowboy boots and laying down to fall asleep, fully clothed, on top of the covers. He's snoring, phone still loosely clutched in one hand where he'd clearly not been anticipating dozing off.

He just leans against the doorway to watch him for a minute, arms crossed over his chest. What did he get himself into here, taking on a stray like this? What did Bill get him into, sending him the kid?

He grabs an old quilt from the armchair in the corner, and awkwardly drapes it over Elliott, covering as much of his frame as he can with it, before he leaves him to sleep if he needs it. A car nap wasn't good enough--it doesn't sound like he really slept at all yesterday, if he's understanding the timeline correctly. If he's sleeping now, it's because he sorely needs it.

He's got things he could be doing, anyway. He hasn't hosted in a long while, and it shows in the fact that his house is very much set up for his use and his alone. He shoves shit into drawers in the bathroom to sort through later when he cares, throws a clean towel and wash cloth on the counter next to the shower, somewhat haphazardly wipes down the bathroom mirror with a little Windex to get it looking a little less grimy.

With that squared away, he turns his attention to the kitchen. Christ, what a mess. He isn't entirely sure how old some of these coffee mugs are, the remnants solidified into a gross sludge in the bottom of the ceramic. Luckily, it's mostly just the mugs, and then a case of tidying things up enough that there's enough space at the table for two, and he can actually see the countertop again, instead of piling it underneath the debris of being a busy man. Newspapers, and mail he hasn't thrown out yet. Keys, and receipts, and coupons. Things he comes in and sets down, and then they never move again until an occasion like this forces his hand to do something about it.

He whistles while he works, some jaunty little tune he only sort of remembers the origins of, and even less of the words to it, but slows down and lapses into silence to strain his ears. When he catches the faint sound of snoring, he takes his cue to slip out onto the front porch.

"...Bill! You sorry sonuvabitch, how're you?"

"I'm assuming you got the kid without any issue?"

"That's what I'm calling about. Now, I've got a whelp that isn't even old enough to drink sleeping in my guest bed, and I don't know a damn thing about him. He hasn't told me anything yet, and neither have you, so I'd say one of you had better start acquainting me with him."

He can hear the long pause on the line, and a deep sigh from Bill. He can picture him ashing his cigarette, taking off his readers. "I don't think it's my story to tell."

"But it's your story to call on me to intervene in? I'm not asking for every dirty detail, but I am asking for the broad strokes of it. He's not involved in anything criminal, so why was it so important he move out of state in such a hurry?"

"Legal trouble, but not his. Suffice it to say, family matters are complicated and he really shouldn't be sticking around to see them get any more complicated than they already are. There was trouble at the courthouse a week ago, and he called me in a panic and asked what he should do. I said I knew someone who owed me a favor and could hire him on until he found something else, and he packed up everything he had and got on that plane yesterday night."

"So I have to worry about someone showing up to my house looking for him?"

"Not unless he breaks out or gets paroled."

"Oy vey." He sits down on the steps with a grunt, letting the cool afternoon wash over him. "I don't suppose that's the source of that shiner, then?"

"He was reluctant to talk about it, but it seems to be the case. Look, Hyatt, I know this is a big ask, but you can trust me: he's a good kid. He's shy, but he's got a good heart, and he'll open up in due time. If he's underperforming, just hold onto him long enough to let him get himself settled with a new job--but I really think you'll take a liking to him."

Something makes him feel like he's getting snookered, but he's already got the damn thing asleep in his bed. He's in it deeper than he'd normally allow himself to be, purely because it's Bill making the call. "You know that I'm only doing this because it's YOU asking?"

Bill laughs, something warm and raucous. "I know. Hey, I never steered you wrong as your business partner."

"What about as my friend?"

"Ehh, we'll call that more often than not that I gave you good advice. And look on the bright side! Now you don't owe me anymore."

"I hope you go out of business tomorrow morning."

"Then I'll just be joining him in the guest room."

He can't help it--he grins. "Alright, well, I'll be calling you if anything happens."

"I'm looking forward to it. Hey, Hy, take it easy. I've gotta run."

He just sits there for a long moment, mulling over the information he's pieced together about his newfound tenant. Whatever his family member--a father? brother? uncle?--is involved in, it got him arrested, and he was so spooked by it that he jumped ship and left the east coast entirely just to avoid the situation.

He doesn't seem the type to get involved in anything shady--and Bill certainly isn't the type to employ anyone that he thinks is involved in anything untoward. He's a shrewd businessman, and fiercely defensive of his business--he would never let anyone work for him if he had reason to believe they were going to be bringing anything into it like that. So whatever the unnamed family was up to, either he wasn't a part of it, or Bill found out too late and the kid was remorseful enough to overrule his instincts not to get involved, and shipped him off this way.

And whatever happened at the courthouse or jail or wherever it happened, ended up with a fistfight, or something of the like. He seems like the last creature on earth to willingly get into a fight. More than anything, he looks like someone who's probably spent more time getting fought than fighting--the homosexuality practically oozes off of him, and rural Virginia doesn't seem like the most...nurturing atmosphere for that sort of thing.

He heaves a sigh, and heads back into the house to make himself something for lunch.

⁂

By the time he sees Elliott again, it's dinnertime. He's just about to go wake him when he sees the disheveled figure shuffle out of the bedroom, hair mussed from sleep and staring at him blearily, the quilt still clutched around his shoulders.

"Weeelllll, good morning there, Sleeping Beauty. You look like you slept well?"

He looks around silently, and he can practically see the gears turning in his mind. He can hear the dial up tones, the blanket lines on his cheek still visible. He slept hard. He brings a hand up from under the blankets to mash the heel of his palm against his eyes to grind the sleep from them. "Uhmb." There's a congested edge to his voice, and he coughs. "I didn't mean to."

"I didn't think you intended to, on top of the covers, in all your clothes."

He gently knuckles at his nose, still bleary-eyed as he shuffles a little further into the room. " 'm sorry. I didn't think that--that--? Hh-! H-hh'dDZzhhyue!"

"Bless y--"

"EedZZhhue!"

"Bless--"

"Heh-! heEHZzhhyue!"

"I'll just wait till you're done."

He teeters on the brink of it, brows pinched together in sneezy limbo for a couple wavering breaths until he ducks down into the quilt again. "heEDDZzhyue! 'DZZHhieww! ...guh! Excuse me."

He snuffles, the sound thick and wet, and he brings a delicate knuckle up to swipe at his nose. It seems a bit pink, now that's getting a good look at him, and the shadows under his eyes from exhaustion haven't really lessened any, despite the fact that he just slept like nine hours. "Bless you. You're feeling alright?"

"I feel fine."

He isn't sure how "fide" he could really be feeling, given the congestion rounding out his consonants into a soft, blunted sound, but he doesn't push it any. "If you're sure." He inclines his head towards the kitchen. "I made stew for dinner--I hope you eat lamb."

"Uh--sometimes. I'm not, uh, strictly vegetarian."

"Well that's a good thing, because this is not a vegetarian household." He softens slightly. "But it's never too late to learn. I could probably do to fit a few more vegetables into my diet."

"You don't have to change anything just for me. I'll eat anything."

"Anything?"

He looks sheepish, fussing with the edge of the quilt. "Uh, almost anything."

"Except?"

He looks like he expects to be shot dead. "Seafood."

Ah. Well. Yes, that would explain why. He glances sideways towards the fridge and freezer, stocked with more seafood than anything else. "I can work with that. I needed to get groceries anyway. As long as you can tolerate that my cooking is not Michelin star worthy."

"Oh, I can--I can cook for myself. You don't have to worry about me, I'm not--uh--you don't really need to do anything for me. Letting me sleep here is already more than enough--and I still need to pay you. How much do you, uh--"

He holds a hand up to stop him. "I was meaning to talk to you about that. I won't charge you rent, but you're going to have to work. Bill said you're a hard worker and that I wouldn't regret hiring you, so I'm going to trust him and give you a chance--but it's not a free ride. You're going to have to earn your job, and your stay here until you've found somewhere else to live."

"Of course! You won't regret it, I swear--I work to work, and I-I do a decent job, I think--"

His eagerness is equal parts endearing and pathetic. "Alright, alright. You don't have to pledge me a life debt, just don't make me have to fire you." He pushes a bowl across the table to the empty seat and gestures to it. "I didn't cook for nothing, so eat up--you must be half starved by now."

"I...don't feel hungry, but I'm sure I am. I'm sure it smells delicious." He looks around the kitchen, and awkwardly tears a paper towel off the roll to gently dab at pink nostrils. The color seems to be creeping in more every time he touches his nose, the pink soft but noticeable against the pallor of his skin. Was he that pale when he saw him earlier?

"Are you sick?"

Elliott seems genuinely taken aback by the question, almost defiant in his immediate rigidity. "I am definitely not."

He quirks a brow. "Is that so?"

"I can't just be a little sniffly, in a dusty guest room?"

"Dusty might be putting it strongly. I clean in there, even if there's no one staying." Well. Definitely not as often as he should. But he doesn't think it's that dusty in there--not enough that he thinks it should really be effecting anything like this, at least.

"I think it's understandable if I'm a little congested when I wake up, especially in a room that's dusty, after traveling all day!"

He can't fight the amused smile at how adamant and offended he seems by the notion that he's sick. "Alright, fine. I'm sure by the end of dinner you'll be feeling right as rain, then?"

It's the first real show of emotion he's gotten out of him that wasn't fawning or exhausted, a strange streak of obstinance. "I'm sure I will!"

Jee-zus. He really is a teen, even if he's an adult. "Good. Eat up, then."

He narrows his eyes at the challenge they've both locked themselves into now, and sits down with more of a dramatic huff than is necessary by a long shot. Once he actually starts eating, it seems like his body realizes how hungry he really is, because he starts shoveling stew like a ravenous beast who hasn't eaten in months.

"You're not a snake. This isn't your one meal for the next two weeks, you can take your time."

He pauses, the spoon halfway between the bowl and his mouth, and stares like a deer in headlights. Color floods his cheeks, matching the shade of pink his nose has deepened to. "Oh." He sniffles, swipes at his nose with the paper towel in his other hand. "Yeah, I just--"

He trails off, eyes narrowing slightly as his brow furrows and damp, pink nostrils flare. He sniffles again, the sound equally unproductive but more urgent than before. His lashes, thick and dark like he's wearing mascara--and, now that he thinks about it, he might actually be--flutter shut as he takes a wavering breath.

"huH-! uuUDDZzhhyue! huUHZzhhyue!" He sneezes twice into the bedraggled paper towel, now pretty well spent and ineffective--but he definitely doesn't seem done. The freckled bridge of his nose is wrinkled in irritation, breath scissoring as he takes uneven gasps towards the next one. "heEDDZHhue! eEZZhhyue! Huh-! huH-!? huUDDJZzhhuuee!"

He actually whimpers a little after that last one, cupped hands having taken the brunt of it, the sodden paper towel that's sitting limply in his palms of no use at all now. He sighs, sniffles, and immediately regrets it, because--

"heEZZHhieww! h-heH-! heEDDZZHHhue! ...guh! Oh my God--excuse me..."

He puts his spoon down, folds his hands on the tabletop. "Elliott."

He snuffles, a little bleary in the aftermath of the fit. "Captain."

"Is it still the dusty guest room?"

He nudges the sink on with his elbow to wash his hands--ugh, Christ, he can see the sheen of moisture on his palms from here--before tearing off a couple of paper towels to blow his nose into at such a soft volume he doesn't realize he's doing it at first.

"It might be."

"Elliott."

"It could still be! I'm sure I'll be fine by morning!"

Why this is the hill he's chosen to die on, he cannot possibly fathom, but it is. Fine. Whatever. "Have it your way."

⁂

He's just laying in his bed, listening to Elliott snore from across the hall. He could get up and close the door. In fact, he should go do that, and close Elliott's, too, while he's at it. But something about that feels too risky.

For who, he doesn't know. He highly doubts he's going to wake to discover that he's been robbed, nor that he isn't going to wake at all because he's been stabbed to death in bed. Nor does he think that Elliott is going to weep and gnash his teeth if he doesn't have the doors open as reassurance and comfort. But he went to bed with the door open, and it's some bizarre comfort to him as well to be able to keep tabs on what his new house guest is doing.

Snoring, mostly.

He's listened to him wake a couple of times, but he hasn't really done anything else, except to roll over and make the bedframe creak ominously, and to cough. Nothing horrid, and certainly nothing annoying, but something that since he's been paying attention, he finds impossible to miss.

He leans over, looks at the clock on the nightstand again, and lays back down with a sigh. At least one of them is getting some sleep tonight.

Eventually, he gets up and moves to the armchair in the living room, puts on some stupid "documentary" about something he's sure is bullshit, and lets the sound of someone whose accreditation includes "foremost psychic folklorist" lull him into sleep.

⁂

The light streaming in through the blinds is what rouses him--and as soon as it does, he is aware of two things. The first: the pain in his back and hip from sleeping in a recliner all night instead of laying in bed. The second: the sound of muffled coughing from the bedroom, chesty and congested.

His hip is barking at him, and he awkwardly gets himself up from the chair to go hobble into his bedroom to grab the bottle of aspirin out of the nightstand drawer. There's nothing to really do for it at this point, but he takes a couple of them to hope that it'll take the edge off of the pain.

He stares at it in his closet, and frowns before relenting and grabbing his cane. He hears the sound of Elliott walking behind him towards the living room, and throws a sweater and some socks onto his bed to get to later when he gets around to getting dressed, and follows him out.

"So about that cold that you definitely don't have..."

Elliott is standing before him, clad in pajama pants and thick socks and a heavy sweatshirt, and garishly cold-ridden. His nose is startlingly red and damp, the shadows beneath his eyes dark as a raccoon's mask. He's breathing through parted lips, chapped from the way he's been having to move around the congestion settled deeply into him. Just looking at him feels like he's going to contract whatever plague he's harboring within him.

"I might--" he interrupts himself to snuffle thickly and wetly, coughs into his elbow, "no, okay, I am sick."

"That much is obvious, but thank you for admitting it." He scratches his beard thoughtfully, mulling over his options here. He could try and spare him having to be out and about like this--and, in so doing, spare everyone else from his cold--but he's already made a commitment to going into work today, and dragging Elliott along with him before he puts him to work tomorrow. "Get dressed after you've eaten--we're going into work--not for a full shift, mind you. Consider it a tour more than anything else. I have to fax a couple documents over to a client, and you could use the familiarity."

"Yes, Captain."

He doesn't look happy, but it's difficult to tell if that's over the prospect of going to work, or if it's because he's being forced out while he's sick, or a combination thereof. It doesn't matter, really--he's sick, but it's a cold. He can't let him shirk any responsibility just because he's caught cold, even if it does look like a nasty one.

"Good man. Eat up and get dressed--we've got business to attend to." He claps him on the shoulder, and leaves him to get himself ready for the upcoming day.

[abyss-strikas]

ahem, you should do raino or tiger head canons, can’t get over my faves👨🏽

You're definitely right, I should! I will say, when I was writing these headcanons, I kind of went a bit overboard so I'm doing five headcanons for Twisting Tiger and Riano. I did also add a couple of headcanons at the end that includes my fan team, the Silver Lions FC, since it did come to mind when writing these out. I'll put those under a Read More though, just so this doesn't get as long as it is now. @h3art-v1n

Twisting Tiger

The grandmother that he mentions in Rookie Season is not his biological grandmother. I’m still a believer of him, Inyo and Miko growing up in an orphanage together, as shown in the comics, and I headcanon that he did eventually get adopted, but by an older woman who he considers his grandmother. She’s a fitness trainer, hence the abs thing

His favorite colour is green, associating it with nature and growth. He had to learn a lot after being adopted by his grandmother, and he was drawn to the color green because of the bandana she would always wear. She made him his own bandana before he left Japan to join Supa Strikas, and he keeps it in his closet for safe keeping.

Tiger has a sweet tooth. Aside from chocolate croissants being one of his favorites to eat, he also likes strawberry shortcake, mochi, strawberry and cherry dangos, and daifuku.

Tiger has always wanted to try and foster cats or dogs, but never really had a chance to because of his job. He was encouraged by his teammates to go for it, and he ended up fostering a nine-year old cat he named Yuki. Tiger was drawn to her because of how she was surrendered to the shelter, but no one wanted to take her in. Just like how it was for Tiger until he was adopted at the age of sixteen by his grandmother. So, he hopes he can give Yuki a better life than being in the shelter, just like what happened to him.

Tiger is the king of dance, at least on his dance pads. You might see him in the mall arcade playing the those kinds of games, with kids playing alongside him. He holds the record on almost all the songs on at least two dance machines.

Riano

The man is very humble, to the point that he’s got no secrets to hide. If he’s got secrets, they’re pretty tame and only the kind that would make him look “lame” to a majority of his fans. Like, his love for a children’s book series he grew up with, which is still going on to this day. A lot of fans like seeing him as the really cool, hot, and very charming football player he is, but there are times when he would like to nerd out about some of his interests.

Whenever Barka and Supa Strikas meet up, Riano and El Matador are always chatting away in Spanish, whether it be about some random topic or gossip within the Super League. Riano would never spread a rumor about someone, and usually scolds those who do, especially if said rumors are aimed to hurt the person they are targeting. He only participates in the gossip to see what’s going on with his fellow League players.

He used to dye his hair different colours when he was a teen, but settled on the purple when he first joined Barka. He had meant to remove it, but it became a part of his image when he played beautifully in his first few games, he decided to keep the streaks.

Riano keeps in touch with his family, and they’re a very large family. He always gets them gifts from the places he and his team go to, plays with his little cousins, nieces and nephews, and always engages in conversation with the parents, aunts, uncles, and his grandparents. However, when everything gets too much, he just heads to his older sister’s place, which is pretty much away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and crashes there for a night or two. She doesn’t mind, as she is an introvert compared to Riano, but appreciates it that her brother does come to visit from time to time.

Every two weeks, Riano treats his team to a Sunday brunch at a restaurant that he usually frequents, and the owner knows him very well. They get a discount on the bill if they win two games before the brunch, a small deal Riano made with the owner after the owner joked that his team couldn’t win back to back games during a drought they had. So far, the owner hasn’t gone back on the deal and has even made small compromises when they’ve won one game but lost the second one.

Bonus headcanons – Silver Lions FC Edition

 It may come as a surprise, but Riano did doubt the Silver Lions when the club rejoined the Super League. For Riano, his doubt stemmed from how everyone was hyping up the team, despite the fact that most of the players on the team never had any football experience, except the returning veterans. He thought they would treat the game like a joke and not take it seriously, but then he saw how they played their second game against them with precision and how they were able to adapt to their different move sets.

He also had doubts about the team for how they would respond in interviews, seeing their answers as maybe too much for the fans. But he was shocked to learn that a majority of the Super League fans actually liked the brutal honesty that came from the Silver Lions; a breath of fresh air is what many fans had said about them.

Riano would later apologize to both Oliver and Trent on how he first viewed them and their team, and they apologized in return for rushing to assume that Riano was like the other players they’ve met. Always judging them while hiding it under his charming looks and personality. Seeing as all three captains all had the same idea of what they thought the other team was like, Riano invited them and their team for brunch, to show no hard feelings between each team. In return, the Silver Lions invited Barka to the restaurant/pub they go to celebrate special events, including brunch.

From time to time, Riano will spend time with the captains, but he also has formed a friendship with their reserve defender, Flint Martinez, and his boyfriend who is one of the main defenders, Hale Pagaduan. Riano took interest in Flint after watching him perform with his underground band, and found that he and Hale could relate to each other about having big families and having such high expectations put on them by their families. When the three are together, they're usually seen running in the park with some other Barka FC players and talking about anything that has been happening in the world or within the Super League.

Twisting Tiger wasn't sure if he would even get along with any of the Silver Lions players, but suddenly found himself being followed by one of the smaller players of the team, Mica Bailey. He's one of the main strikers of the team and is cousins to Sean Bailey, one of the main midfielders of the team. Tiger is unsure why Mica has taken a liking to him, but he is able to have Sean interpret whatever Mica wants to tell him, as Mica is mute and communicates in both ASL and BSL.

Oddly enough, Tiger has a rivalry with both Bailey cousins but in different ways. With Mica, he sometimes has a hard time getting the ball to one of his strikers, as the Silver Lions player is quick to intercept and take it back up the field towards the Supa Strikas' goal. With Sean, anytime that Tiger does his Twisting Tornado, Sean is able to take the ball away from Tiger and initiate his own move his team have dubbed as The Irish Storm. The move consists of Sean running around the Supa Strikas midfielders in an infinity loop, moving so fast that it's hard to keep track of him. But the reason he does this is to allow one of the Silver Lions players to blend in while he runs, and take advantage of when Sean passes the ball to them. While he is not always successful in taking the ball from Tiger, he usually marks him when they're on the field.

Despite this, Tiger finds he enjoys the company of the Bailey cousins a lot, especially with watching Sean getting angry about something, and Mica signing things to get his cousin even more angry. Tiger has been teaching himself how to sign ASL to better communicate with Mica, and has been able to find a common ground between him and Sean in the form of model cars. Sean used to be a race car driver, but left the sport to focus on being a mechanic for his own workshop, collecting the little model cars when he can.

Tiger has also found some common ground with the main goalie of the Silver Lions, Fritz Germane, with the two of them being orphans when they were both younger, but having found a family later on. He sometimes goes to the much older goalie to hear how he was adopted and what his life was like with them.

[misstarsss]

Relationship chart

Well, I was bored and I did this, this is molding my au a bit, I'm between putting wrong destiny or Animation vs stick-life, or idk, I'll be thinking

First of all, in my version, the RGBY are just friends of Sec and nothing more.

What alan thinks about: RGBY; He feels as if they were his own creations, he considers them his children.

The Second Coming (TSC): He sees him as a son and is very grateful for his help in art.

The Chosen One (TCO): He knows that everything he did to her for two years was completely wrong and he understands that she does not forgive him, even so he considers him a friend for taking care of his children and student.

The Dark Lord (TDL): He doesn't like how he became, he knows it's partly his fault for programming him like that but he doesn't justify his actions and he doesn't like that he's still alive.

Victim: He knows everything he did but he doesn't really remember if he's alive or dead, and he's not really interested in knowing.

The Divine One (TDO): He is surprised at how passionate he is about protecting his ethereal student and he likes that a lot, even though he doesn't like the attitude he has towards Chosen.

Purple, King/Mango, mercenaries: He doesn't know them very well, although only a little about Purple and King from what Sec has told him.

Ethereal: He is surprised by her mature attitude when he learns that she can create life, although he is a little scared that she is like him before, he took her in as his student, he laughs because she reminds him of wet cats

What ethereal thinks about: RGBY; They really like their friendship and how they have treated her since they met, she loves spending time with them and having sleepovers.

Alan: He is her teacher, she really likes how he instructs her to do things that she possibly doesn't know how to do in drawing.

The Second Coming (TSC): He is also her other teacher and best friend, she really likes how lively he is.

The Chosen One (TCO): She considers him as her older brother since he tries so hard to protect her from Agent Smith/pivot

The Dark Lord (TDL) and Victim: He doesn't know much about them other than stories, although the red stickhollowhead seemed somewhat familiar to him.

The Divine One (TDO): Her other older brother and best friend, since he was born, has dedicated himself to taking care of her, although he is stifling, he knows that he does it because of what happened with Agent Smith/Pivot and that was a trigger for him to be more protective although he tries to regulate it.

Purple: He knows him from stories and doesn't like him very much but over time he got to know him better and he's one of his best friends too, they get along really well and play video games with Green sometimes.

King/Mango: Cool old man, makes her chocolate

Mercenaries: She doesn't know them

[justheretodump]

pt 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

disclaimer again that this is dc x dp x miraculous ladybug x spiderman

for those who aren't familiar with every show, here's a lore explanation

---

ladybug doesn't remember a time before the observants. her earliest memory was the dark room in the tribunal, kneeling at the center of the crystal observatory, as shadows whispered across the walls and stared.

a whispy hand made of curling black had brushed aside her hair and, when ladybug glanced up, a black eyeball stared back. ladybug felt every need to flee, yet her body was so weak.

the eye blinked once. a garbled voice cooed, "what a pure soul…yes, this one'll do…our new child…our new observant."

ladybug didn't understand what that meant back then, but now, she knew too intimately.

foregoing the memories that surged in her head, she turned to witch.

with a black dress and chunky boots, and her feline features hidden behind a full techno mask - aside from the ears on her head -, witch crouched beside ladybug and offered her a look, the screen on her face changing to a purple '?'.

ladybug nodded her head. "the doors", she whispered in accented english. despite robin's attempts at teaching her, she was still too clunky with the pronounciation.

as witch shifted on her feet to move from their hiding spot, ladybug gripped her shoulder. "remember the border."

both girls pressed a button at their shoulder, settled onto the strap of an unknown object, and small, mechanical, translucent wings sprouted from their backs. they flew in short bursts from floating island to floating island, the backdrop of the green ghost zone stark against their figures.

up above, a piece of land bigger than any nearby loomed. on it stood a white church, golden bell tolling endlessly, surrounded by a weird green bubble.

when both had flown close enough to the building, ladybug shifted her fingers, green energy like fog coming to life. it flitted between them, and once the border had been crossed, dissipated under her command.

witch landed first, wings shifting to hide under her cloak. she pressed a button at her ankle and her boots retracted, material crawling across her skin until two ankle bracelets hugged her fur fittingly. cat legs stood onto dust as she turned to watch ladybug land.

once the attention of her partner was on her, witch's screen shifted to present a pixeled, 'ok?'.

"my effect will only last 20 minutes, so we have to be quick. once we get the clock, we get out."

both figures stood to stare at the building ahead.

"let's go."

---

spiderkid had tried to struggle against the man's hold, but something had drained his energy and left him too weak. he could only watch through lidded eyes as they left the dark room, managing to catch a glimpse of the broken crystal pod at the far end. stepping through the doorway, they walked down a dark hallway and over…littered bodies, oh my god, those were bodies.

as spiderkid tried to strain his neck for a better view, the man's gruff hand cradled his head, pushing his face, very gently, into the guy's shoulder. "better ignore that, pete."

spiderkid thought it was highly presumptuous of this guy to tell him what to do.

outside, a man in red gear stood waiting for them. his face showed brief awe, hands in red gloves coming up hesitantly to pet spiderkid's hair. spiderkid, absolutely fed up with random strangers getting in his space, nudged it away with as much force possible and grunted.

the man immediately pulled away, before turning - are those tears? - teary eyes to the white-streaked man. "god, jay… it's really him."

if his eyes were that visible with that domino mask, he needed a new one stat.

coming to terms with the fact that escape was highly unlikely, spiderkid waited in silent anxiety as the situation unfolded around him.

the men spoke to someone on an earpiece, voices low and hard to make out even with peter's advanced hearing. they were near the ocean, the scent of salty air making his head dizzy, and coupled with the strong smell of oil and grease that covered the warehouses surrounding them, spiderkid opted to stuff his nose in the guy's jacket.

the guy's breath stuttered at the act, hand coming up to smooth spiderkid's hair again.

the trek was a short one, turning a couple of corners with hasty steps until a black car came into view. a sleek black outer coat and startlingly bright headlights, it looked highly expensive.

two people came out of it, doors thrown open and rushing forward in a run - towards him, spiderkid realized. the boy tried to wiggle away, but he only ended up wiggling further into the man's chest. the guy's grip tightened and he was hiked up to readjust.

first was a man in a messy tux, black hair falling into strands on his head and blue eyes crinkled with worry. "peter? oh my god, peter, kid, peter…"

his hands settled on spiderkid's cheeks, thumbs brushing his cheekbones gently. spiderkid has never met this man in his life, but he will concede, he looks…kind.

the other was a boy around his age; with black hair and blue eyes, it was obvious he was the man's son. in a thick hoodie and pajama pants, feet stuffed into cow slippers, anyone could tell he wasn't ready to leave the house.

he gripped onto spiderkid's hand, silently gnawing on his lip with a furrowed brow.

"he's okay, at least physically," the man went silent for a second before croaking, "his… there isn't anything left, from… from back then."

"how is that possible?," sniped the black-haired boy, frustration lacing his tongue.

the man in red stepped forward, "does it matter? let's ask questions tomorrow, jesus christ."

the tuxed man nodded, once, twice, before his hands, shaking, went into his pockets. he turned and made a swift walk to the awaiting vehicle, deep voice calling, "let's go, the family's waiting."

as everyone trailed after, spiderkid sat back and expected a long night.

---

i don't tend to put author's notes but sorry this is short, i have uni finals coming up. also, i opened asks, since i sometimes feel bad about how i write so out of order and nothing makes sense.

[imthepunchlord]

God, I REALLY hope Juleka wins the Butterfly poll when it’s time for it - she’s the only one out of ALL the girls whose main color is actually Violet (as opposed to Pink or Indigo), and I feel like her character development wasn’t handled as well as it could’ve been (NONE of the character arcs were, but she sticks out to me in that she’s one of the more recurring supporting characters due to being Luka’s sister yet is simultaneously forgotten by both the canon show and the fandom in how things would affect HER SPECIFICALLY instead of adjacently through the people around her). I also feel like she would be a good match with whatever you’re going to solidify for Bugettes!Nooroo based on the tiny hints you’ve teased about him, both in itself and compared to Roaar, with whom I feel there were existing avenues for it to work but could’ve been sold to us much better in-show. Plus, I’d really just like to see her in a hero suit that’s actually purple; it still bugs me personally that PURPLE Tigress is far more magenta in actuality, almost red even, and very much like REFLEKTA’S main color at that.

Yeah we will see, as ultimately it'll come down to how the polls go, and I know Marinette and Rose have also gotten mentioned for Butterfly.

Juleka will also appear in the poll for Mantis, as Indigo is that in between blue and violet. So it's all kinda up in the air on how it'll go.

I also do agree. Juleka is one of the classmates that does stand out to me in her potential, and yeah it's butchered. So badly. This is primarily on the writers, but one of the things I dislike about Luka is the factor that, for the Couffaines, he's the priority. You could cut out Juleka and you wouldn't miss much. Like, the worst aspect is learning Jagged is their dad, but it was more Jagged and Luka's story than Jagged with both kids. Like, what was the point of making them both his kids when only kid really got priority in this revelation?

And yeah... Juleka with Tiger isn't really my go to pick either. I get her whole thing is trying to find her voice, to be heard and stand out. And with a kwami named Roaar, that does technically work off that agenda, but the power is One Punch Man vs doing something tied to vocals or sound. Which kinda makes the kwami's name a little random (honestly all Zodiac kwamis have really strange names that don't relate to their powers or themes).

The other odd detail is that, when you think of felines that are about roaring, tigers aren't what immediately come to mind, it's the lion. They roar to establish territory, to be heard and say "I'm here!", unless Roaar is meant to be a sort of mix of a tiger and lion? As she doesn't have a body covered in stripes?

I know that, supposedly, there's a Lion Miraculous coming, but it's not official yet.

Either way, tigers I more associate with hunting, stealthy ambush. Not really speaking out. I'll give it, tigers can be tied to leadership which does involve being heard, but it's more military leadership. They're more tied to war, aggression, and strength.

As for the kwami, to me, Roaar came off a bit of a bully. Which maybe Juleka just needs that tough love/push to speak up, but I personally didn't really care for their interactions. Though I still say Mullo and Mylene were the worst paired characters out of all kwamis and humans.

And yeah, Roaar visually doesn't really match with Juleka.

Technically, she matches with Cat the most.

Her main color is black, with bits of purple and green.

While Plagg is meant to be a black cat, there are times he's purple. And of course he has them big green eyes.

I could also see Juleka visually working with Kaalki. I see a hue of purple in her gray, and there is the green eyes to work off as well.

There's also the intrigue that Juleka wants to be a model and Kaalki expects someone famous or wealthy, getting a holder who isn't but wants to be, Kaalki would have to work with them to get them to where they both want Juleka to be; though I do see them butting heads a bit as it's pairing two of high and low status, but that could be fun. Plus, there's the pun potential of Juleka learning to be a show pony with Kaalki's help (she could've also called herself Knightmare).

And yeah, with Butterfly, Juleka could've done well. You do have to communicate with others, so Juleka would have to work at talking with others, to express her thoughts and to be heard, and there's some pressure to be taken off as it's more long range communication vs close, but the option is there for close range communication whenever Juleka is ready for it. And Nooroo would be a gentle and patient guide.

We'll have to see if it happens though.

[cyberdragoninfinity]

I just wanted to commend you for your ability to select animals for characters. I love seeing your various Yugioh furry AU characters and each animal choice is so perfect in every way from Otter Atticus to poodle Dennis. I would love to hear your thought process when it comes to making those animals pairings or if it's just on vibes.

WAHH THANK YOU i take a lot of personal pride in my ygo furry AU designs and scrying animal species for each character is always a really fun little challenge for me, so that means a lot to me 🥺 this is a great question!

My thought process for these tends to boil down to a combination of "i think this animal suits this characters personality/appearance/etc" and also yeah sometimes it's just vibes, but i DO have a small set of 'rules' i keep in the back of my mind to give myself an extra challenge:

I always try to not copy exact animal species I've seen other people use for a character, and I ESPECIALLY try to pick specific species or breeds of an animal rather than "oh well he's just a cat/a dog/a bunny/a lizard/etc etc etc"--there's so many cool animals out there!!! there's so many cool breeds of common furry species you can play with!!! I like getting into the specifics of it!!! also imo there's Enough furry anime character drawings out there where the characters are Just a brown or yellow or purple dog or cat of no discernible breed, i wanna do my own thing >;3c

(I think the only exception with my furry AU designs so far is jaden, but to be fair 'orange tabby cat' is just perfect for him, also my jaden is fat so he's already not your average Anime Cat Boy Design HAHA)

i also try to not repeat exact species, even across different yugiohs--different breeds is fair game (i.e. poodle dennis, akita yusei, pomeranian bakura, and corgi kotori are all dogs of course but those are all very different breeds!!) but if I use, say, American Bison for Furry AU Gong, I can't go using bison for Axel or the Gore or anyone else later. Just an added challenge for me!

The only time that doesn't apply is with characters who are siblings, I like to use the same/very similar breeds for them (unless they're adopted/there's other factors at play--i havent drawn them yet but Shay Obsidian is a red-throated caracara and Lulu Obsidian is some species of dove/pigeon, since there's dimensional fuckery at play with all the bracelet girls)

side bit of trivia but poodle!dennis definitely came about originally from the "im a big gay poodle" lyric in this chris fleming classic, and then it just turned out that was actually the single perfect animal to make him 🧡 standard poodles are hunting dogs 🧡🧡🧡🧡okaaaaay

ANYWAY to illustrate my process I mulled on a furry species for a character I haven't assigned one yet--in this case, Fujiwara from GX! Since Atticus and Zane are both semi-aquatic animals (sea otter, black swan) I wanted to make Fujiwara something semi-aquatic too, and I also especially wanted to pick out something kind of off-kilter and weird and Nobody's First Choice For a Furry Species Pick (this is often a driving factor for me <3 but also fujiwara is such a purposely weird and ill-fitting character In The Text so it's perfect for him.) I almost made him a green salamander, but I wanted something that could easily preserve his yucky seaweed hair since it's a big part of his design, SO! AFTER MUCH CONSIDERATION--

the humble playpus :) frequently an animal associated with "not fitting in" which. well. fujiwara......................................

it's a Process but i enjoy it very much <3 i will keep making yugioh furries forever and i will have the grandest time in the world with it <333

[shadowuserannie]

WIP Wednesday

So I'm doing this again, apparently.

Rules copied (and mildly changed) from @cer-rata;

Make a list of five (or so--) of your WIPs for anyone to chose from.

I like providing short synopses/teases to give some context, but you can be super vague if you desire

Post a snippet from one of your fics that you’ve worked on in the past week.

You get to send an ask with one of the five listed WIPs!

You must then write a paragraph or so in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write a paragraph on it anyway, and then another that you can share from something else.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

Files;

we could hide away in daylight [ongoing, already published] Hiro Hamada heads to Gotham, hoping to trick Batman into not discovering BH6's identities. The plan he executes is heavily convoluted-exactly as a blood son's would be. [BH6 x Batman: WFA, Bio! son of Bruce Wayne Hiro]

Charge of Lightning, Beware The Earths [ongoing, not yet published] Denki Kaminari is almost 13 years old when he and his mother are attacked by a massive black dog and he's sent to a camp. The Fates whisper of another child of the eldest gods-concerning as the Battle of the Labyrinth is about to begin. [MHA x PJO/HOO, son of Zeus Denki Kaminari]

The Elementals [ongoing, not yet published] In the wake of a mysterious earthquake that devastates his home, Tanah moves to Pulau Rintis to live with his grandfather. He meets two mysterious girls-Halilintar and Taufan-just as aliens bear down on the planet. [Boboiboy 7 Elementals AU, begins with Tanah, Halilintar and Taufan and then continues on, series rewrite]

and even if it seems like it leads to glory (what is left in between) [ongoing, not yet published] Tai Pham is 14 years old when he meets Damian Wayne. Tai Pham is 15 years old when he's benched for being too young. Tai Pham is 16 years old and he stays benched because his family asks him to. Tai Pham is almost 17 years old and if John hadn't held him back he would've tossed a middle finger to the Guardians as thanks for letting him have his ring back. [Tai Pham 'The Kids Are Alright' AU by @cer-rata, Green Lantern Legacy]

Demigod Mercenary [ongoing, published] 032 is only half-brothers with 006. He's well aware and has been staying alive for years without needing a likely-just-as-hellish-as-the-last-one camp, okay?! He doesn't need Camp Half-Blood, and he is going to do his damn best to escape. [Teenage Mercenary x HOO/TOA, a demigod 032 AU]

Miraculous: Tales of Sophie Foster and Fitz Vacker [ongoing, unpublished] Sophie receives the Ladybug Miraculous after helping an old man. Fitz receives the Black Cat after helping an old woman. The Butterfly holder warns of rebellions and elves, of secret societies and torn loyalties between wishes. Sophie and Fitz must find the cracks in the lies to unearth the truths-if what's left of these century-old rebellions don't tear them apart first. [Miraculous x KOTLC fusion AU, with Ladybug! Sophie and Black cat! Fitz, series delving into development is up]

Eyes of an Oni [ongoing, unpublished] Fang's Power Band is taken by a purple serpentine alien, so obviously he's prepared to get it back. Wait, what do you mean his Shadow Dragon looks like an ancient evil that's been terrorizing this dimension since before time was named?! [Boboiboy Galaxy x the GiAG AU by @sunnylighter, Fang's Shadow Dragon looks like the Overlord in this AU where the prophecy never came to fruition and Pythor is a bastard so he weaponizes it]

grabbing a red pen (my destiny is in my hands) [Ongoing, unpublished] Twelve-year-old Fitz Vacker's father is the police commissioner of Eternalia, who's been working with the Council to hunt the freaks that are the rebels-except Fitz can hear thoughts, just like them. But then he meets another 'freak' who can manipulate any technology, a tiny ten-year-old with too much bitterness and rebellion for his height-Dex Dizznee, who's been in the Black Swan since he found out his mother was. They're the beginning of a team that changes the United Cities-Team Rebel is taking their destiny by storm. [KOTLC human! superhero AU, team grows in following order, | is joining at the same time, Dex|Fitz (as founders), Tam|Linh, Keefe, Biana, Marella, Sophie, any others after the Nightfall crew are...in idk]

Shadow Users Team [ongoing, published] The Shadow Users' timelines have begun receiving some...corrections. But the Shadow Users begin getting suspicious of the girl who brought them together-especially after Nico relays news of a body none of them knew existed. [Boboiboy Galaxy, Estranged, Ever After High, Keeper of the Lost Cities, My Hero Academia, Trials of Apollo]

soot on skin and cinders between teeth (feel the fire, watch it blaze within me) A fic about Cinder Carter, Changeling King of the World Below, charting a new adventure as he battles a troll uprising and maybe gets some friends other than his golem, boyfriend and siblings. [Estranged, TBA fandoms]

Feel free to ask! (help please)

Tagging: @cer-rata @crippling-pages @ohmygoly @thelasttaleofthepari @kotlcpuppetshow @telugu-girl-13 @bookworm-fangirl1 @samaniala @ksqvljhz @fantasygeek-134 @crazybookenthusiast @theaspengrove @floofeeeeee @eternal-everblaze any other people I missed

anyway just ask what you want

[bichitodibuja]

Hi!! Silly David drawing and some of my silly headcanons and relationship headcanons for all my David self shippers out there!! :3c

(headcanons under the cut)

David headcanons:

♡he probably loves the colour purple and green

♡ I always headcanon him as being from Poland (for no reason honestly)

♡ I think of him as the kind of guy that always tried to feed and take in stray cats when possible

♡ he has a little cat that he named sugar cube and this little kitty used to be a stray cat

♡ because of sugar cube and other stray cats that he has taken care of he has grown to like eating canned fish (his favourite one is canned tuna)

♡ like I also think that Josef and him got a closer relationship after David's addiction being treated in the hospital and like them living together

♡ he loves cuddles, hugs and any kind of affection really not only because I bet this man is really touch starved but because I think he genuinely is just really affectionate (I believe this because I imagine Josef trying to raise him up as good as he could until he had to move away from the house because he couldn't endure the abuse of their mother)

♡ I do believe that deep down underneath that façade that David has had to put to survive out there he has a heart of gold and is actually a pretty chill guy

David relationship headcanons:

♡ loves hugging you but his favourite way to do it is hugging you from behind and hugging in bed

♡ he loves covering your face in kisses as well as he loves getting forehead kisses

♡ he gave you one of his hoodies and loves it when you wear it, it feels his heart with a warm cozy feeling

♡ he's just like a cat sometimes liking his back scratched and his hair played with (he sometimes purrs without even realising)

♡ he loves cuddling while watching a movie but he gets easily scared with horror movies (no matter how poorly done and bad the movie is he will get scared)

♡ David enjoys your presence a lot and he's always trying to make you laugh or smile whenever he can but sometimes he says very deep and loving things to you when you least expect it

♡ David sometimes gets his paranoid episodes, but they're less frequent than before thanks to staying sober but also because of you being by his side and helping him calm down

♡ David is very insecure and has a very low self steem, he never thought anyone would actually want to date him much less love him as much as you do but he's grateful that you're in his life

♡ David loves kissing you and spending time with you but if you eat chocolate he will wait for a little bit before kissing you again (he doesn't like chocolate much but he won't stop you from eating it)

♡ he loves getting spoon but he also enjoys spooning you as well from time to time

♡ David's perfect day is basically a day that he can spend with you and hold you close to him

And that's it for now, he loves you a lot and he never thought that he would find someone that loves him as much as you do :3c

[lilxmoo]

headcanons but they're all kinda emotional :3

Tyler is like Auri's older brother. He loves showing her maps and the history of the universe that happened while she was frozen, and she loves telling him real stories of Terra from her time. They both enjoy drama shows that the others don't, and sending each other books to read. He's very protective of her in a very brotherly way, and she always thanks him by giving him new shoes or something. (They're both shoe people)

In a similar way, Scarlett is Auri's sister. Absently playing with each others hair, sending each other their fits for the day, ranking each others celebrity crushes. They go to concerts together, and hold each other's hands when they go to the movies and both of them start crying. They're literal besties and sisterhood incarnate

Kal told Fin about certain people back at the legion who were always pretty awful to him. All of those people mysteriously had their social media accounts deleted, and were signed up to many scam caller lists. Tyler mentioned how annoyed those people all were about it in conversation one day, and Kal has never seen Fin look so smug.

Saedii never apologized to Kal, not in words. But for his twentieth birthday, a siif was at his door, one identical to the one he had as a kid. He never mentioned it, and neither did she. But they both knew.

Finian was the one to organize a funeral for Cat, without being asked. There was no body, but Scarlett and Tyler almost broke his exo with how hard they hugged him when they found out.

Every single birthday, Fin gets given a ballpoint pen. It pisses him off, and everyone always finds it hilarious except for him, who now has an ever-growing pile of pointless pens on his desk that he doesn't know where to put.

Kal and Auri shower together sometimes. Not in a sexual way, they're just very affectionate, and there's something very emotionally intimate about washing each other that way. Similarly, Auri loves putting Kal's hair in whatever style she wants. Some of them are good, some are ridiculous, but they both think it's adorable

Tyler has a little green dragon sticker on his uniglass

The first time Scarlett massaged Finians muscles, when he didn't have his exo on, he cried. He didn't tell her he was crying (she knew), and desperately tried not to show it, but it was the most loved he had felt for a long time (my boy 😞).

Scarlett dyed her hair purple once, and HATED IT. She thought it would be fine, because she likes plum red hair on her, but she was very annoyed for a month and a bit. Fin thought she looked beautiful though. He said it matched his uniform :')

Kal and Tyler get quite a few silent judgements about their friendship, given their individual fathers. If anything, it makes their bond stronger.

Saedii once gave a very, very stiff and very begrudging apology to Finian for calling him a cripple behind his back when they had first met. Fin didn't care, because it's Saedii Gilwraeth, and was actually just surprised she hadn't said much worse. He actually found the irony of the whole thing quite funny.

Scarlett will forever be mad that Fin can only take his contacts off in the dark, because she finds his natural eyes very beautiful, and she can't take a good enough picture of them in the dark. Finian finds this very cute, Scarlett is genuinely very annoyed about it.