#not my problem for foreigners to be missing out on something wonderful

[000marie198]

Barely holding back screams

If I see one more person, on YouTube or fic or social or otherwise, discredit pink salt as nothing special, I'm gonna blow something up

[luveline]

bombshell finds tickets to a russian movie thing sitting in spencer’s desk at work and they’re about to like run out (?) so she presents them to spencer and asks him on a date and pretends that she didn’t just pull them out of spencers desk in that bombshell way

You’re looking for gum. If Spencer were at his desk, you’d politely beg for a stick and he’d give it to you, but he’s not here, so you must search. 

You sit in his seat, slinking down as he does with poor posture, your kitten heels hitting the spine of a book kept under the desk. Your dress’ skirt rises up your thighs, the fabric at your neck pulls, but you have bigger problems. You’re feeling the weird franticness of unspent energy and only a stick of gum is gonna fix you. 

He has a drawer full of things, neatness traded for space. Blue and pink paper clips in an arrowhead shaped box. Push pins of all colours, their box more ordinary. He has a travel book on indigenous North American birds with stamps held between the pages, a plastic bottle cap, train stubs from Quantico to the station outside of his apartment and a bottle of ibuprofen missing half of its contents. 

Your fingers dig around for the familiar shape of a packet of gum, hesitating thoughtfully against the thread of a thicker cardstock. 

You pull a cream envelope from the desk and, perhaps wrongfully, unveil the contents: two tickets to see any Russian flick at the foreign language theatre free of charge (if you buy a large drink). They expire tonight. 

You press them to your chest and spin in Spencer’s chair without any regard for whoever might see you slouching. Across the office with his hair out of his face and a smile bordering lackadaisical stands your favourite. He even has a pencil in hand. He likes to underline things in the books he reads for your benefit. It’s the pencil that decides your next move. 

You stand up, brushing down your nice dress that he seems to like, a black cotton with thin pinstripes settling nicely just above your knees. You check your lipstick in the black reflection of his sleeping monitor, buzzing. 

He’s watching you when you turn back. You hide the tickets behind your hip and begin a light walk to his side, the chug of the printer a constant hum you can feel in your shoes. 

“What’s up?” he asks. 

You tilt your head toward your shoulder ever so slightly. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.” He squints. “You’re acting strange.” 

“Suspicious,” you correct. 

“That, too.” 

“How come you let me hold your hand?” 

Spencer doesn’t hide his surprise at your question very well. His eyes turn deer in the headlights, then down to the printer. “What do you mean?” he asks. 

“When we first met, you wouldn’t shake my hand. And that’s okay,” —your smile is loving in the hope that he finds your question as the curiosity it is and not an interrogation— “I’m just wondering what changed.” 

“I was distracted.” He’s talking about the first time you took his hand, the two of you on the way to the office. “You stopped me from being late.” 

“Right, but I should’ve asked and I didn’t. And now we hold hands all the time.” You take a half step back. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, I’m just wondering.”

“Nobody’s held my hand in a really long time. And you’re mostly clean.” 

“Mostly!” you laugh, giving him a guilty smile. “I’m super clean, I just forget how gross door handles are sometimes.”

You have embarrassed him, in a way. It’s really not what you meant to do, not when you’re about to ask him on a date. 

Ever since you started your official position at the BAU, you and Spencer have grown closer, but there’s a difference between flirting because he’s lovely and flirting because you want him to be your boyfriend. (Not that he knows what you want.) You shouldn’t have started with the hand holding thing. 

“Spencer.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Will you go on a date with me?” You present him with the movie tickets. “Got these, they expire tonight…”

“Are those from my desk?” he asks, taking the tickets from you to look over closely. 

“I’d love to go with you, unless you’re gonna take someone else, which is fine.” You embarrass yourself a little, even though you’re not, hoping it makes up for the hand-holding investigation. “Yeah, they’re from your desk. Sorry. I really wanted a stick of gum, my– my nervous energy is through the roof today.” 

Spencer frowns at you again. “How come?” he asks softly. 

“I don’t know. It just happens sometimes.” 

And that’s nothing you’ve ever admitted to him. Your perfect mask is broken, and Spencer doesn’t look at you any differently. “Do you actually wanna go to the movies?” he asks. 

“Only if I’m not stealing you away from somebody else.” 

“There’s no one else.”

Spencer abruptly turns his attention to the printer, where he collects his copies and shuffles them into a straight, neat pile. 

You recover quickly, though inside your heart is a stuttering mess. “I should hope not,” you say. “Okay. Awesome. I’ll bring hand sanitiser and you can hold my hand through the previews.” 

[mrchiipchrome]

The Museum

W.C. - 5.2 k

this is so the 'pookie looks absolutely fire' tiktok couple coded

thank you to the anon that requested this, much love to you:)

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The skittles made a crunching sound as your molars bit down on them, it was an every day snack for you, tasting the rainbow more often than not. It was a relatively new habit, but when your ex had broken up with you, you promised yourself to become a better person.

It obviously had to be you who had something wrong with them, otherwise she wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone else and out of love with you. Quitting smoking was the first thing on your agenda, hence the skittles.

The next thing was to get away from the small southern town in Texas, move so far away that you left the country entirely. The only thing you’d taken with you on the plane was a carryon with 2 changes of clothes, your cowboy hat and a dream of bettering your life.

The third thing you bettered was your health, going out for a run every morning through the streets of London, going to the gym after work, doing push-ups before bed. It worked wonders, the tips you got from the ladies at the bar where you worked were simply incredible.

The fourth thing you wanted to improve was your cultural knowledge, the exact reason why you were standing in the middle of a museum, old renaissance paintings in every corner of the large room. It was something you appreciated, none of that modern bullshit where people just taped a banana to a canvas and called it art, it was back from when people actually painted.

Your hand slipped down your body into your jacket pocket, fetching another piece of candy, although a voice speaking up from your right startled you nearly enough for you to drop it back into the bag.

“You’re not supposed to eat in museums, you know?” The woman had a foreign dialect, just like you. You guessed it was from somewhere in the middle of Europe, maybe Germany or any of the neighboring countries.

“It’s not a problem if you don’t tell on me, no one has to know.” She seems just as startled by your accent as you were by her speaking to you, her cheeks dusted with a light pink at the wink you sent her.

“What are you going to do if I tell them? Take me back to your ranch on your horse?” The mystery woman teases, obviously making fun of the accent and the cowboy hat sitting perched on your head. In response you laugh under your breath, shaking your head in amusement.

“I’m afraid that I left the ranch back in Texas, Miss. All I have here is a small one bedroom apartment.” She looks up at you through the side of her eye, her half smile distracting you more than you’d like to admit. Her brows knit together when she notices a security guard eying the two of you curiously and her elbow digs into your ribs when you once again reach for the skittles in your pocket.

“Nice hat, my friend would be jealous.” You nod in agreement, plucking the stetson off your head and turning it around in your hand. In a brief moment of stupidity, you place the cowboy hat on the pretty stranger’s head, it falling down the front of her face to cover her eyes. It’s frankly adorable, the way she brings her hand up to push it back to the crown of her head.

The reassuring smile on her face tells you that she approves of your action, a relief to your entire being. She takes her phone out of her back pocket, turning it on and snapping a picture of you both, the cowboy hat still perched on top of her head.

In response, you snap a picture of her alone, the woman posing like a cowboy would for you. She was going to be the wallpaper of your phone for a while, even though you didn’t even know her name.

“So, do you have a name or am I just going to have to call you mine?” The cheesy pickup line just slips out, not at all consciously, it was like instinct took over, a pretty girl was to be flirted with.

“I wouldn’t mind being called yours, but for now you can call me Lia.” The woman doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your advances, in fact she embraces them, teasing smile telling you that she found it amusing how worried you got over a simple pickup line.

“Lia, a beautiful name for an even more gorgeous girl.” She gains her pink tint back, the compliment likely the cause of her blush. It wasn’t like she never got complimented, it was just the attractive zing your accent put over the words that made them feel more sincere.

“And how about you? A name attached to that pretty face?” Now it was your turn to blush at the other woman’s words, her lips splitting into a full toothed smile.

“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” You imitate Bond to introduce yourself, sticking your hand out for her to take, a firm handshake and the tip of an imaginary hat letting her know who exactly it is you are. 

“Good to know my future last name.” She winks at you and the blush that’s already covering your face deepens significantly. The insinuation that you were to marry the girl beside you too much for your poor little heart to take. 

She starts to walk away from you and towards another section of the room, looking back over her shoulder when she realizes that you weren’t right beside her, walking. Waving her hand in a “come here” motion, you quickly catch up with the older woman. 

“So, why skittles? Is there not any other sweet you’d rather have?” She asks as you match her slow rhythm of steps, your hands shoved in the pockets of your coat with your arms forming loops. Lia threads one of her arms through yours, leaning her head on your shoulder, standing still all of a sudden to look at a painting. It didn’t feel like you’d just met, like you’d just introduced yourselves to one another, it felt like you’d known each other for decades, easily slipping into being comfortable with each other.

You gaze at her as she looks at the painting, making sure to map out all her gorgeous features and commit them to memory. She was like a breath of fresh air in a world of polluted oxygen.

“First of all it’s called candy, not sweets, candy. Secondly, they’re amazing for when you want to stop smoking.” Her cheek smushes against your shoulder as she turns her head to look up at you, her eyebrows scrunched together adorably.

“You were a smoker?” You feel the strong urge to place a peck atop her lips, soft and warm against your own. But in the end you resist, you’d only just met the woman for god’s sake, you don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Her eyes hold so many emotions that you just can’t read.

“Yeah, only for about a year. My ex stressed me out so much that I felt it was the easiest way to deal with it. But when she broke up with me, I decided to get my life back together, moved here, got a job at a bar and that’s it. That’s why I’m here.” Lia listens intensively at the story you’re telling her, the way she looks at you suggests that she’s hanging off your every last syllable.

“So no more smoking at all for you?” You puff your chest up, proudly displaying the grin on your face and your now discolored tongue. Lia looks on in amusement at your actions, a grin that could light up an opera house on her face. 

“Nope, I’m never picking up a cigarette again.” The amusement turns into a sort of profound proud feeling, a feeling that she definitely shouldn’t be feeling for what is practically a stranger. A stranger that in the matter of a mere hour had worked their way into her heart and made themselves home.

“Good, I’m really happy for you.” The softened look on Lia’s face makes you blush, it was the way most people looked at their loved ones. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to be one of her loved ones, how it would feel to see her first thing in the morning, to gaze into her tentative eyes and try to read her like a book just because you know exactly how it is she acts, how she feels at that exact moment, what she thinks.

At your faraway look Lia nudges you in the ribs, giggling at the embarrassed expression that occupies your face. Her giggle could only be described as a ray of sunlight, lighting the glum room up in seconds, giving it a golden glow.

The older woman doesn’t miss the fondness in your gaze as you watch her laugh, your own lips splitting into a smile and soon after a loud belly laugh bubbles up in your chest, welling out of your mouth like water out a dam. 

Only moments later the both of you are doubled over in laughter, tears slipping down your cheeks and arms crossed over your stomachs. Some scattered guests give you two dirty looks, as if you were peasants in a house full of royals, but they are counter effective because it only makes you and Lia laugh harder.

The security guard from earlier approaches you both as you drop down to the floor with a loud thump, Lia bursting out into an entire new fit of laughter as you try to catch your breath.

“Y/n, I’ve already let you get away with a lot today but this is your last strike. Up you get, I’ll escort you and your lady companion to the exit.” He speaks through his thick mustache, his round beer gut bobbing up and down with every word like he needed every fat covered muscle of his stomach to get the words out.

Small giggles escape you both as Lia and you are led out of the building by a firm grip around both of your arms. You both watch in amusement as the fat man gets winded walking back up the stairs he just led you down, bending over for a brief second at the top before disappearing back behind the door.

“So, I take it you know the security guard then?” She sounds a little out of breath as she speaks to you, flyaways sticking out of her bun, your hand itches to reach up and smooth them out, undo her bun and run your fingers through her hair. But you don’t. 

“Yeah, he’s my regular. Comes in every day and buys a pint after work, a good friend of mine he is. He lets me get away with eatin’ in there every time I come.” You stand right in front of the brunette, hands again in your pockets as you smile at her tentatively. Her hand comes up to rub at your arm, and you feel as though you were going to pass out at any moment, the electric feeling of her ring covered fingers touching your arm overwhelming in a good way.

“Ah, a museum nepo baby then.” You can tell that she’s joking by the way her eyebrows raise all the way up to her hairline, and you imitate her by doing the same thing. Another fit of giggles ensues, Lia looking directly into your eyes, holding eye contact for a prolonged amount of time.

It makes you nervous, her somewhat challenging gaze locking on your face for a moment longer than necessary. When she grasps your hands in hers you finally look back at her, meeting her tender gaze with your own.

“I really enjoyed today, I was hoping we could do it again sometime.” The older woman looks at you sheepishly, nearly nervously. You’re mesmerized by her gorgeous simplicity, simple smile grazing her lips as you nod, a recognisable warmth behind the hug she gives you, the quick kiss she places on your cheek haphazardly before walking away, not looking back to see your rose tinted cheeks.

It’s only when Lia has disappeared far behind the horizon that you realize that you have no way to contact her AND that she essentially got away with your favorite cowboy hat. You aren’t as distraught about your hat as you are about not getting her number, it was a dumbass move from you.

You drag your feet all the way back to your apartment, not knowing that only moments after you left the museum, the girl of your dreams ran back all the way to get your number. And like you, she dragged her feet all the way back to her apartment, sulking and questioning her own intelligence.

Arriving at the bar that evening was strange, you felt almost empty without the girl you’d met earlier that day, no light brown cowboy hat perched atop your head nor a beaming smile. It was weird to everyone around you, you always had that damned hat on, but now it was a completely different one, black with a few white accents.

“What happened to you? It looks like someone ran over your dog.” Your co-worker and best friend Marla asks, placing her hand on your shoulder softly as if you were to break if she did it any harder. Shaking your head, your other friend and co-bartender Jason comes up to rub your back softly, the comfort from both of your best friends loosening you up significantly and soon after you spill everything that had happened up to that point.

They were both smirking at you when you finished up the story, knowing that despite only just meeting the woman in the museum you were already in love. 

“So do you have a picture of this goddess who’s making you drop to your knees?” Marla asks you, looking knowingly at your other best friend, who in return wiggles his eyebrows at her. You knew something would happen between them soon, and you’d rather be in hell than to watch it.

“Yeah, just give me a quick sec.” Pulling out your phone, you quickly unlock it and enter the photo app, not needing to scroll as the most recent photo was of her, Lia.

“Girl, are you fucking with me?” You look at the dark skinned girl in confusion, her eyes widening as she realizes that you had no fucking clue who it was you had met. She looks to her ‘boyfriend’ quickly in shock, who looks back at her equally appalled.

“Are you telling me you don’t recognise her?” The moment you shake your head is when the green eyed boy facepalms, not believing your stupidity. “Not at all? You haven’t seen her before.” When you once again shake your head the man sighs in disappointment, all faith in your intelligence practically gone.

“Girl. That is Lia Wälti, you know one of the best midfielders in the country? Arsenal Women’s player.” Now it’s your turn to look shocked, not at all knowing that she was a footballer. All the times you’d gone over to Marla’s house to watch footy, she’d probably been injured.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I didn’t even recognise her.” You lean against the door, sliding your body down until you’re sitting flush on the floor, head in your hands. Jason places his hand on your shoulder, smiling softly at you as he tries to reassure your overwhelmed mind.

“Hey, man, it was probably a good thing that you didn’t recognise her. She knows that you’re not some crazed fan trying to kill her, eh?” Marla’s hand plucks your cowboy hat from your head and runs her fingers through your hair, your shared shift started in mere minutes and yet they were there, comforting you.

“I’m okay, just a bit shell shocked.” They both laugh, pulling you up by your hands and bringing you into a group hug, patting your back before Marla gives you your hat back, smacking both you and Jason’s asses before disappearing out to her office.

“You know, we have an extra ticket to the Arsenal game on Sunday, so I mean if you want to see her again then you’re welcome to join.” You smile at the man’s kindness, telling him that you’ll definitely take him up on his offer. You didn’t have a shift at the bar either way that day so spending it looking for your … well you didn’t really know what it was she is to you. All you know is that you wanted to see her again.

Two days later you find yourself sitting as close to the pitch as you possibly can, waiting for the North London derby to start. 

Lia is in the starting lineup, looking determined as she waits for the whistle signaling the start of the game to sound. The shrill noise cuts through the air and the game starts.

It’s physical right from the start, loads of pushing and shoving coming from both sides, red and white. There are a few times where you nearly jump to your feet as Lia gets pushed but the fact that your friends sat there right beside you made you choose not to.

At half time the score is the same as the beginning, nil-nil. Despite not knowing much about football you join in on analyzing the first half of the game, mentioning all the times Lia went down. Marla makes some ‘innocent’ comments about how you’d much rather have her ‘go down’ somewhere else. The blush that overtakes your face is enough for you to blend in with your jersey, the red of the Arsenal shirt the same shade as your face.

When the second half starts, you’re basically on your feet all the way through, cheering loudly when Alessia scores, meaning that the gunners were up one-nil.

It’s particularly hilarious when Lia finally notices you, a pause in the game meaning that she had the time to look around at the fully packed Emirates Stadium. When those eyes you love to gaze into meet yours for the first time since Friday, her face split open in a smile, a smile reaching all the way up to her eyes.

It looks like she has to physically restrain herself so that she doesn’t run over to you, her body shaking slightly as she calmly inches her way towards you, the cheers of the fans around you becoming louder as the player comes closer. Lia tunes them all out though as she looks at you, the only thing cutting through her trance being the whistle signaling the freekick being awarded. 

Lia looks back towards you as she walks in the direction of the group of players and you wink at her, even though she’s far away it seems like she saw it, the deep tint of red dusting her face definitely more than exertion from the game. 

When the three loud whistles sound throughout the arena, it explodes in cheers as Arsenal manage to keep their one-nil lead and in doing so make London red again. But you don’t even acknowledge the win when there’s a speeding Lia Wälti heading straight in your direction.

She only starts to slow down as she reaches the barrier which separates the fans from the pitch and players, with you standing up behind it to watch her come closer and closer with every quick step she takes.

Lia throws her arms around your torso when she comes close enough, the way that she had been longing for your touch had been driving her crazy in the days since you first met. She also knew that it wasn’t smart to do it all out in the open, fans and professionals alike were probably going to know everything about you within a few days. You didn’t seem to mind though, content with having her in your arms again.

Pulling away from her, you quickly take her face in your hands, looking her over to see if her face was scratched up from all the times she’d met the ground in the game. 

“Shit, darling, I think you spent more time on the ground in this game than on your feet. You ought to be more careful.” Your southern drawl is especially thick when you speak to her, the worry you’d experienced the entire game bubbling to the surface.

“I’m perfectly fine, I think you’re forgetting that I do this for a living.” She smiles at you reassuringly and you calm down fully, her hand placed on your arm a sure factor of it. Lia’s head turns to your side, looking directly at your friends who both send her starstruck looks. 

“Hi, I’m Lia.” The footballer smiles in their direction and they both remain in their seats, completely unmoving. She looks back to you concerned and in response you just laugh, they were apparently not expecting her to actually greet them. “Are they okay?” 

“I think they’re just a bit starstruck.” Gesturing towards their gaping mouths, Marla quickly slaps your hand away from her face, biting at the air to show you that she wasn’t afraid to bite.

“Oh okay, well do you think they want anything signed? I can ask the team, or maybe if you want we can go meet them?” Lia sounds unsure of herself, apparently doubting that her first impression on your friends was good.

“I think that they’d love that sweetheart. But judging from all the looks we’re getting from that same team, I do think they want you back.” You glance towards the women gathered in a clung in the middle of the pitch, all of them staring at you and Lia interacting. She sighs at their slightly invasive culture, but alas there wasn’t anything that she could do about it. When you smile and wave at them, you’re thoroughly amused when every single one of them repeats your actions back to you, some in confusion and some in amusement.

“A guard is going to tell you to follow him, just do as he says and we’ll meet again soon.” By that point the stadium was almost empty, everyone wanting to go home and brag about their team’s win over the archrival. So as Lia walks away from you, you’re totally free to stare at her ass, only stopping when Marla slaps your arm harshly.

“Did that just happen?” Jason asks shakily, running his hand down his face in embarrassment.

“You’re damn right it did.” You laugh at their stupid expressions, their embarrassment clear on their faces. “Well look on the bright side, y’all are going to meet the team.” With that their embarrassment turned into excitement, meeting their favourite athletes quickly turning their mood around.

“Y/n Y/l/n? Come with me and take your friends with you.” Walking around the labyrinth of slinging hallways and narrow paths, you appear in front of the locker room in no time, the loud music escaping the door a clear indicator of the Gunners good match.

“Now just wait out here until they come out, they’ll probably be out in a few.” The guard tells you unbothered, not caring at all that he’s leaving people he doesn’t know outside of the locker room.

“Yes sir.” You speak up clearly, mock saluting him as he disappears down the hallway with a sigh.

“I can’t believe that you’re 28, you act like a 12 year old.” Marla tells you jokingly, leading to you pushing her away from you. In the span of a few seconds both you and Marla find yourselves on the floor, engaging in a wrestling match. It only gets broken up when the sound of the door opening echoes through the hallway, both you and your best friend quickly getting on your feet.

“Nah what’s going on here?” A very amused Irish accented voice escapes the player exiting the locker room, one Katie McCabe staring at you and Marla.

“It was her fault.” You point at Marla so as to gesture that it was her who started it, the woman vehemently denying it.

“So I’m guessing you’re Lia’s cowboy then?” Katie completely ignores the blame game currently going on in front of her as she talks to you. Blushing at being called Lia’s, you quickly start to stutter out an answer.

“I- uhm yeah, I think so?” Laughter coming from behind the Irish woman makes you glance in the direction of the sound. Seeing Leah Williamson of all people is not what you expect, a bit starstruck yourself.

“Of course it’s the cowboy you buffoon, who else would wear a cowboy hat in London? You have to tell me where you bought the one Lia brought home, I need a new one. Mylie-moo chewed mine to filth a couple days ago.” Leah throws her arm around your shoulder as if you’d known each other for years, the woman clearly having heard a thing or two about you.

“Oh well I’ll be sure to bring you one next time I go back to Texas, my buddy Carl, he’s 72 and he makes the most gorgeous hats you can imagine. Last time I visited him I made him an instagram page, I’ll send you the link if you want?” You speak enthusiastically with the England captain, her arm still resting around your shoulders casually. Both Marla and Jason are in a conversation with Katie and Lotte, who just got out of the locker room.

“Important question, so answer me truthfully now, do you like country music?” She looks at you skeptically, trying to deduce if you’re being truthful or not. The question itself makes you roll your eyes playfully, but alas it didn’t surprise you. It was widely known that Leah was quite the country fan.

“Ma’am I grew up in Texas, yeah I’m a country fan. I’d be disowned if I wasn’t.” Leah looks at you like you’re her hero, it was clear to you that she accepted you. The hinges of the door squeak as a few other players exit, namely Lia.

“Lia please let me steal her, she’s perfect.” Leah says jokingly, holding onto your arm softly like she was a little kid. Lia looks at her weirdly, but quickly catches on to the joke, walking over to the two of you.

“I know, that’s why I want to keep her.” Lia wraps her arms around your waist tightly, her newly washed hair curling up into adorable curls, head placed on your shoulder. 

“Sharing is caring.” Leah is on the verge of laughter as she talks, the statement a shocking one for sure. It was hilarious though so you also had to keep from laughing.

“I mean I wouldn’t mind-” Lia shoots you a mean glare at your half serious words, and even though it was like being glared at by an adorable kitten, Lia already had you wrapped around her finger. “Actually I’m taken so I don’t think that would work.” 

All it takes for you all to break character is a shouted ‘WHIPPED’ coming from one of the players watching the interaction like it was a soap opera, the three of you laughing like it was the last thing you’d do.

“Alright, anyone want a drink? Not to brag but I can make a mean cocktail.” The women all cheer as you ask them, everyone rushing out to get into their cars and get to the bar. Just as you’re about to follow them, someone takes hold of your collar, making it so that you can’t go. 

Lia looks back when you don’t follow her but you just wave her off, telling her to go on without you. Turning back, you’re met with all the ‘scariest’ Arsenal players, looking like they’re about to beat you up.

“Listen carefully now, because this will only be said once, if you hurt a hair on her head, do anything to hurt her emotionally, if you do anything wrong that makes her sad, we will not hesitate to take your knees.” It’s Katie that speaks, all the others just nodding intimidatingly, glaring at you. 

“I’m going to try my best to make her happy, I know that she deserves the world.” They let up the facade of intimidation at your words, patting your back and pushing you in the direction of the car park. The conversation as you all are walking out of the building is pleasant, when you arrive at the parking lot there are just a couple of cars left.

Both of your best friends had left you to carpool with one of the remaining players, Lia called dibs though the second she looked at you, so it was with her you went.

“They weren’t too scary with you right? I know how they can be.” Lia says over the soft music being played from the radio, some Tyler, the Creator song. You look at her face, she was in deep thought and absolutely adorable. 

“Nah, it’s like being threatened by a pair of teddy bears. Let’s just say that I’ve had worse shovel talks.” She giggles as you start to tell her about all the weird shovel talks you’d gotten back in Texas, everything from being threatened with Chinese water torture to being hung upside down from a tree for simply speaking to a girl that wasn’t her.

When the bar comes into sight you see that multiple people have parked their cars right in front of it, telling Lia to just park on the curb.

“Y’all are such dickheads.” You laugh, slapping both Marla and Jason’s heads hard, they left you stranded. 

“Well you’ve got a girlfriend now who can drive your broke ass.” Marla shoots back, rubbing her head in pain. You roll your eyes at her dramatic actions, the slap wasn’t that hard.

“One-nil to me then, at least I have someone.” The sibling like banter was normal between you two by now, she was your best friend after all.

“C’mon cowboy, let’s sit down for a little.” Lia’s hand rests on your stomach as you both sit down on the booth, the place to sit being suspiciously small, to the point in which Lia had to throw her legs over your lap to get enough space.

It was nice to sit and talk with the team, they were regular people just like anyone else and it made you glad to see them just relax after a match. The atmosphere was calm, so calm in fact that Lia managed to fall asleep on your shoulder, quiet snores escaping her mouth.

Only moments later you fall asleep too, after having fought sleep for as long as possible. Your head rests on top of Lia’s and the girls think it’s absolutely adorable, some of them taking pictures of you both to send to their group chat.

“I knew being friends with her would pay off.” Jason jokes, thinking naïvely that you were fully asleep, getting a few laughs from the girls in the room. They get startled though as you utter a quick;

“Hey!” In protest, everyone soon laughed at your dramatic reaction to his joke.

Who knew that going to the museum would result in you getting a date?

[doumadono]

Synopsis: in a surprising twist orchestrated by Toga Himiko, two antisocial League of Villains members, Dabi and you, find an unexpected connection during an awkward blind date

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

You’ve never been one for socializing. The whole concept of small talk, mingling, and putting yourself out there has always felt foreign to you. After all, socializing was never your strong suit, and you were quite content with your single status. You’ve always preferred the comfort of a good book or the solitude of your thoughts. 

But that’s exactly why Toga took it upon herself to organize a blind date for you. She’s always been a bit of a meddler, and apparently, your perpetual singleness was too tempting a problem for her to ignore. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” she had chirped with her usual manic enthusiasm. "Trust me, you'll love him!" Toga had chirped with a mischievous grin. "He's just like you - hates socializing, too!"

And you had no choice but to go along with it, if only to get her to stop pestering you. 

Toga had transformed one of the dingy rooms into something that vaguely resembled a romantic setting. There were candles (probably stolen), a table (slightly wobbly), and two chairs (one missing a leg but propped up with a stack of books). It was sweet in its own chaotic way, very much in line with Toga’s personality.

You sat down, fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth, wondering who in the world Toga could have set you up with. She had been annoyingly secretive about the whole thing, dropping hints that only served to confuse you more. For a moment, you wondered if Himiko might have set you up with no one else but Shigaraki himself. The boss was the most antisocial person you’d ever met, which could mean this date would be an absolute nightmare. But there was no backing out now. 

The door creaked open, and Dabi walked in. 

Your eyes widened in surprise. 

Dabi? Of all people? 

The blue-flamed villain looked as disinterested as ever, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded with boredom. “Great,” he muttered, not even trying to hide his lack of enthusiasm. “Toga’s matchmaking now.”

You offered a small, awkward smile. “Looks like it.”

Dabi slouched into the chair across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other in uncomfortable silence. Finally, he spoke. “So, how did Toga rope you into this?” he asked, his tone as dry as sandpaper.

You shrugged. “She didn’t really give me a choice. And you?”

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pretty much the same. I guess she thinks we’re both too antisocial for our own good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “She might be right about that.”

Dabi chuckled, a low, almost menacing sound. “Sounds like her. She loves meddling in other people’s business.”

You nodded, grateful for the small talk. “Yeah, she’s something else.”

Another awkward silence fell over you. You glanced around the room, trying to think of something to say. Your eyes landed on a small stack of books in the corner, and an idea popped into your head. “You like reading?” you asked, nodding towards the books.

Dabi followed your gaze and scoffed. “Not really. I only read articles about how great heroes are supposed to be.”

You blinked in surprise. “Why’s that?”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “So I can read between the lines and find their weak spots. It’s more fun tearing them down when you know their flaws.”

"I saw you reading something about Endeavor earlier," you ventured, trying to sound nonchalant. You were still new, still trying to weave yourself into the fabric of the League without causing too much disruption.

Dabi’s smirk faltered slightly, and his eyes narrowed. “Oh, did ya?”

“Yeah,” you continued, curious. “You were pretty engrossed in it. Do you like Endeavor?”

His eyelid gave a slight twitch, a nearly imperceptible movement, but it was the blue flames dancing over his knuckles that caught your attention. They flickered menacingly as he slowly clenched his hands into fists. "He’s just my main interest," Dabi replied, his voice dripping with a wry amusement that did not reach his eyes. There was something ominously calm about the way he spoke, a laid-back tone that contrasted sharply with the dangerous glint in his gaze.

Looking to shift the heavy atmosphere that his words had conjured, you ventured to a lighter topic, one that might catch him off-guard in a humorous way. “So, you’ve read everything about him, huh? What about fanfiction? Ever dive into that rabbit hole?”

Dabi made a scoffing sound, a dismissive and sharp exhalation that cut through the levity like a knife. His gaze hardened, the blue flames flickering dangerously as if they were an extension of his simmering rage. “I don’t give a fuck about what people write about that scumbag,” he said, his voice cold and scornful. “How they idolize him in the creations of their sick minds,” he continued, his lips twisting into a derisive sneer. “But I’m sure they’re as sick as Todoroki Enji himself. One day, I’m going to destroy that fucker,” Dabi declared, his words not just a promise but a vow, laden with all the intensity of his deep-seated hatred. 

After a moment, his fire faded out, and Dabi leaned back in his chair, looking you over. “So, I assume you read when you’re not being forced into awkward dates?”

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go with honesty. “I read a lot. Mostly horror novels. And I like to cook. It’s calming.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cool, I guess.”

The conversation continued like that, awkward and stilted at first, but slowly easing into something more comfortable. You talked about books and movies, some random stuff like your favorite food types, your mutual disdain for social gatherings, and the absurdity of Toga’s matchmaking efforts. 

At one point, Himiko burst into the room with a tray of hastily made snacks, beaming with pride. “How’s it going, lovebirds?”

Dabi shot her a withering look, slowly cocking his eyebrow. “We’re not lovebirds, Toga.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “But it’s going surprisingly well. As you can see, I’m still alive.”

Toga clapped her hands together. “I knew it! You two are perfect for each other. I’m a genius!”

She scampered off, leaving you and Dabi to your conversation. 

Despite the unusual setting and the odd circumstances, you found yourself actually enjoying the evening. 

Dabi’s dry wit and cynical outlook somehow meshed well with your own reserved nature. Dabi might not be the most conventional date, but there was something about him that intrigued you. And for someone who had always avoided socializing, that was saying something.

“So, how did you end up joining the League?” you asked, munching a jelly bean.

Dabi leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Wanted to burn the world down, found like-minded people. What about you?”

You shrugged, not wanting to delve too deeply into your past just yet. “Wanted to make a difference in my own way. The heroes… they never really helped people like me.”

Dabi’s eyes glinted with a hint of understanding. “Yeah, they’re all hypocrites.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “What about you, rookie? What do you think of the League so far?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “It’s different. I mean, it’s not what I expected, but in a good way. Everyone’s really passionate about what they believe in.”

Dabi’s gaze softened slightly as he scoffed. “Yeah, we’re a pretty dysfunctional family. But it works somehow.”

“Have you ever thought about what you’ll do after all this?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Dabi shrugged. “No. And I don’t really care. Guess I’m more of a ‘live in the moment’ kind of guy. What about you?”

You took a moment to think. “I’m not sure. I just want to find a place where I belong. Somewhere I can be myself without having to pretend.”

Dabi’s smirk returned. “Sounds like the League’s not a bad fit for you, then.”

"What do you think of Shigaraki as a leader?"

Dabi smirked, slowly stretching his fingers. "He's got vision, I'll give him that. We might be a bunch of misfits, but he’s the glue that holds us together. For now."

"Do you think he’ll succeed?" you tilted your head to the side.

As long as he keeps his head on straight and doesn’t get too ambitious too fast, maybe. But I have my own plans, too, and I rather focus on them.”

Curious to learn more about him, you asked, “What were you like before joining the League?”

Dabi’s expression darkened momentarily. “Let’s just say, I’ve had my fair share of shitty experiences. But that’s the past, and the past never fucking dies.”

You sensed his reluctance to dive deeper, so you shared a bit about yourself instead. “I was a loner. Never really fit in anywhere.”

He taunted, “Yeah, I get that. We’re all here because we don’t fit in out there.” Eventually, Dabi leaned forward after lazily chewing a cracker, his expression serious for once. “This evening wasn’t as terrible as I thought it’d be. And you weren't that bad either. Maybe we could do it again sometime. Without Toga’s interference, of course. I know a few nice places, far enough from these crazy maniacs.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest as you giggled, “I’d like that, Dabi.”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, me too, actually.”

Perhaps there was something to be said for this whole notion of socializing after all. Maybe it could bring a little light into the shadows.

[ladykakata]

Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich are honestly good influences on each other

I swear I'll write proper posts sometime, but it's been swilling around my head with my other thoughts, so I might as well put it down here.

Mickey and Ian are chaotic nonsense idiots, and yet I cannot argue they don't have a good as well as bad influence on each other and that develops as they age (and constantly get pulled back together whenever they break up lmao).

Ian's influence on Mickey

It's a running joke that Mickey in the early series is this filthy goblin just running around being a hoodlum and ... yeah, he is lmao. But it's very notable as the series progresses that he starts becoming cleaner and dressing nicer the more time he spends with Ian. The man specifically wore a shirt to see Ian in the mental ward ffs. Not only that he actually *tries* working a normal job and socialising, something he is deeply uncomfortable with, but does it for Ian's sake. It doesn't escape my notice that he specifically wants to work with Ian whenever he can, probably tying in to my earlier point that he is only completely comfortable around Ian.

If you told S1 Mickey he would be helping his paraplegic father into the house and getting home nursing for him, he would wonder what kind of sick joke you were playing. But he does, something that even surprises Ian at first. Ian inspires Mickey to talk more about his feelings, he openly admits to thinking about missing Ian, whereas before he threatened to cut Ian's tongue out for saying that Ian missed Mickey. The idea of Mickey changing ANYTHING for anyone else is foreign ... but not if Ian suggests it to him the right way.

Ian's non-judgemental or at least lightly judgemental treatment of Mickey allows the man to be far more comfortable with himself. Though still highly defensive, I think it's telling Mickey is completely unashamed to be a bottom in front of Ian, and Mickey can make socially awkward gestures or gaffs and Ian doesn't upbraid him or make him feel like shit for doing the 'wrong' thing. Hell, as much as Ian was utterly, UTTERLY confused at Mickey's groomzilla episode, he mostly kept his confusion silent and simply reined Mickey in when he was losing his temper with vendors. The flower shop scene has Mickey blithely retorting that while Ian was gay, he 'just likes having another man's dick in my ass'. Ian in the same scene was tensing his jaw at the homophobia from the florist, and normally Mickey is quick to snap at anyone who considers him gay ("You calliin' me gay?" before slamming a bar owner's head into the counter), he simply bats it away as he's more focused on the flowers he wants and only becomes aggressive when the services are threatened to be withdrawn. Ian was always sure and comfortable with his sexuality and had little to no tolerance of homophobia, whereas Mickey was in either strict denial or profoundly uncomfortable and highly secretive.

Mickey's influence on Ian

The most obvious one is that Mickey was Ian's guardian during his bipolar struggles once Mickey finally realised what a problem it as, and he was determined to nurse Ian until he recognised (to his horror) he couldn't deal with this on his own and Ian really did need professional nursing and help.

What strikes me in a lot of scenes, both before and after that arc, is that Ian almost has Mickey as a constant in his life. It's a topic more for aspects of Ian's personality, but Mickey was the person Ian turned to when he had no-one else in S1, when he was in the 72 hour psychiatric hold he explicitly says 'Mickey is waiting for me'. Ian's life is constant chaos, much like Mickeys, and Ian is the sort of person who needs and thrives on structure when his brain isn't acting out. Mickey was a constant, someone to always come back to and someone he could rely on. In a way, I also see Mickey as someone who can be the impulsive one of the pair, letting Ian take the role of the mediator. It's easier for you to resist your own stupid impulses if your override kicks in because someone else is doing something foolish.

As much as I joke that Ian is the only person Mickey listens to, the same happens the other way around in the bipolar arc. During Ian's Military Police hallucination, it was Mickey who broke through the delusion after the shock of almost attacking Debbie brought Ian abruptly back to reality. Even as Mickey at first acts with his typical aggression ("There's nothin' out there! Fuckin' look!") and literally dragging him to the front door to prove the other side is the same, he gently reassures Ian that everything is alright and herds him upstairs to get dressed. Mickey made sure to get explicit instructions on Ian's medication and even measured it out for him ("Shut up and take your pills, bitch" is still one of my favourite lines).

I had more thoughts but my brain is soup and I still want to do a post on Ian's mental health and how he interacts with the world.

Send a prompt or aspect of these two if you want to hear me talk absolute garbage about these lovesick idiots

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

https://www.tumblr.com/impossiblycolorfulpanda/761923322763214848/in-my-experience-the-zutara-community-was-very?source=share

What do you think about this??

Once again, Zutarians are kings and queens of missing (or deliberately mischaracterizing) the point(s).

The issue is not "Katara would be paranoid that everyone in the Fire Nation hates her and see them all as her enemies that she hates back." The issue is "Zutarians conveniently pretend that Zuko marrying a foreigner would make racism disappear AND act like it's Katara's job to make them not racist when Zuko was the one who signed up for that job."

The issue is not "Katara is afraid of a challenge", the issue is "Katara did not sign up for this challenge and it's weird to make it her problem"

The issue is not "Katara hates everything about the Fire Nation's culture", the issue is "Katara clearly doesn't feel any strong attachment to said culture, but instead is still very attached to her own and has already said the words THE FIRE NATION CAN'T SEPARATE OUR FAMILY AGAIN."

The issue is not "Why does Katara have to marry Zuko as soon as the war ends instead of waiting until all the racists magically become good people (which is already absurd of zutarians to expect)?" but rather "Why do zutarians push Katara marrying Zuko as the ONLY acceptable endgame when these characters never even had feelings for each other in the first place?"

Also Zuko absolutely NEEDS to spend at least the first few months or first year of his reign in his nation. He literally has to reform the entire system to actually end, and then remedy the effects of, the war. He is far more useful to the South Pole, and the entire world, if he's there.

And can we talk about this: "I see Aang marrying Azula"?????? QUE? These two are not each other's type AT ALL and a political marriage is out of question because, again, racism won't magically disappear when people see the royals marrying outside their race - if anything, it'll just make a ton of racists go "THE FOREIGNERS ARE TRYING TO DOMINATE US BY SLEEPING THEIR WAY TO THE TOP!"

Zutarians would rather jump off a cliff than admiting that fixing racism on a societal scale is not that easy - no wonder 99% of Fire Lady Katara content is so fucking racist.

Which brings me to the LAUGHABLE claim that Katara stans are more likely to ship Zutara. The overwhelming majority of zutara stans HATE Katara and are just interested in mutilating her character and beating her into submission until she becomes a completely different person as I've explained here:

Fuck that condescending bullshit. Zutara has NEVER been about caring about Katara as a character - it has always been about replacing her with an OC.

[kairiscorner]

Hii! No need to rush but could you do a fic where the reader is also a spider-person and gets sucked into Miles’ dimension just like in itsv and noir and them get a long really well and end up being shipped by the rest? I think it’d be quite cute :D also sorry if this isn’t that elaborate ToT

hiya anon !! ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯ dw about it !! i just hope you like this <:))

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

well, this was certainly a conundrum. the flashing lights of brooklyn practically blinded you, coupled with the sudden sounds and buzzing from the people, establishments, and cars passing by. you were disoriented, your spider sense was out of whack for the time being, and you could only wonder, 'this isn't my city... where am i?'

you aimlessly wandered around the city, accidentally bumping into people here and there, almost getting run over when you missed the green pedestrian light, and bumping into a few too many streetlamps. you hated how familiar yet foreign this city felt to you; one minute, you minding your own business while swinging around your city, doing your rounds and all. but as you were swinging... you felt yourself gravitate to something. everything else around you--leaves, newspapers, plastic bags, even you yourself were getting drawn to this force.

it turned out to be a portal that opened up from somewhere else into your world; and try as you might to resist it and its pull, you were eventually sucked in and thrown into this city. "what i would give to... find someone who had the slightest clue about what the hell is--oomph!" you exclaimed as you felt a slight tingle crawl up through your shoulders, raise the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck, but the sudden collision between you and what felt like a tall man had interrupted that sense of yours from telling you what, or who, exactly was in front of you.

"oh, good heavens, you okay there?" asked a gentlemanly, kind of dapper-sounding voice. the man you bumped into held you up, with you eventually clinging on to him as you nearly fell over due to how disoriented you were from this new city's endlessly bright lights and loud noises. "i'm fine... sorry." you murmured as the man held you up and dusted you off a little. you got a better look of the guy and he tipped his fedora a little, and you noticed when you glanced at his attire from head to toe, you felt the tingle again through your bones this time--and you could tell he did, too.

"you're like me." you both announced in unison. you sighed in relief and felt yourself smile from underneath your mask. "yeah! yeah, i am, and you are! ok, um... do you have any clue where we are?" you asked him, hoping the monochrome man in the trench coat and fedora had any idea where you two were, but it seemed he was just as lost as you were. "i'm afraid i'm in the dark about this whole place too. i was kind of hoping someone would come along and show me around, but i guess the universe is too much of a joker to take peter parker seriously." he said with a slight chuckle as you sighed in disappointment, now.

"well... guess we're both lost, parker, was it?" you asked him with a raised eyebrow as he tipped his fedora again and nodded. "peter benjamin parker, please to meet ya." he said as he extended his gloved hand. you introduced yourself, and you noticed peter looking over your spider suit in awe. "you have such... a wonderful taste in fashion." he said with a smile underneath his mask. you smiled back, without even seeing his smile. "thanks, i've been told it's a little too colorful, though. i was considering toning it down, but i'm glad you like it." you replied. "ah, i've got the same problem, too. a lot of people have told me my getup is more like a mortician than it is a private investigator, let alone as a 'superhero'." he rambled a little as you listened to him.

"i guess we both have our problems with how people see us, then. but it's better than facing those problems alone, no?" you asked as you looked up at him. "certainly is." he responded. you two had agreed to swing over to the nearest rooftop and find answers from there, and all the while, you two talked on and on about each other's home universes and the lives you two lived there. "sounds cool, your universe, i mean. what if i brought you like, maybe, a glow in the dark ceiling decor?" you offered, to which peter almost lost his grip from his webbing. "you decorate ceilings? with... things that 'glow in the dark'? fascinating..." he said as he held on to his webbing tighter and his hat as the wind threatened to blow it away. "i'd love to have you over, though! maybe after this whole debacle, i can show you all the finest spots my home has to offer!" he said as you two swung around, and you found yourself agreeing to it already before even knowing him for an hour.

after the whole collider fight, you rushed up to peter and embraced him tightly. "i knew you could make it out, with a champ like you, of course you would!" he exclaimed happily as he held you tightly. "and so did you, big man." you said as you chuckled in excitement and happiness at your group's victory. you could feel everyone else's eyes on you two, and the best part was... they were waiting for this moment to happen ever since you two joined their ensemble.

"i told you they had something going on together." peni said with a smile as ham held her hand, blowing a comically loud and exaggerated sniffle into a cloth he summoned from his hammerspace. "they were always destined to be in love!" he exclaimed as he cried into the cloth. you looked up to see them all looking at you and peter, and you immediately took your hands off him, a little hastily and still smiling widely like a dork. "we're just really happy we won!" you tried clearing it up, but peter wouldn't let go of you and still hugged you tightly. "yeah, we won, now lemme hug 'em, yeah?" peter said as the others chuckled, with some crying out of happiness for you two.

you looked at peter, with peter looking back at you. you placed both of your hands on his cheeks and smiled. "can i... visit your world for a little bit, when we find a way to do that safely?" you asked him as he leaned a little closer toward you. "oh, darling... i'd let you be with me every time. i do wanna see your world, too--maybe the universe will finally come along for peter benjamin parker now and let us be happy at each other's sides--" "oooookay, that's enough people, move along, chop chop, let's go home." said peter b as he cut off your peter at the sight of how loving he was being to you. "quick word of advice, if you two get married, never invest in a spider-themed restaurant, they will hate you forever." he whispered to your peter, who took mental note of that.

"guess this is... goodbye." you told him as you held his hand, not wanting to let go. "no, doll... it's a see you soon, i promise." he said as he swiftly planted a soft kiss on your forehead as he let go of your hand and lifted his mask up to show you his face--his charming, sweet smile that promised to meet you again very soon.

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @connors-cumslurper

[catiecat1320]

Very proud to announce that I am participating in the Sonic the Hedgehog Big Bang (@sthbigbang)!!

Thank you to my wonderful artists, @lofithetanuki, @therealsinnohdawn, and @sleepingcircus; as well as a thank you to my beta reader @thesummoners!! I <3 you all!!

[MasterPost]

Summary:

Shadow has never been the kind to think of himself as special. Aside from a talent for music, he’s just your typical guy. Nothing more, nothing less.

That is, until he meets Sonic. Until something about the unremarkable him catches the eye of the world famous solo dancer. Until he’s offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work with a legend. 

There’s so much more to the star than he could have ever imagined. There’s so much more to himself that he never knew. And there’s so much more between them that blooms in the time they spend with each other, beautiful, foreign, and absolutely hectic.

Standing in the face of chaos, the only logical step is to find a rhythm to dance to.

Chapter 1 Below 🔽

“And… I think that’s all I have planned for today,” Shadow announced, idly stretching before gently lowering the piano lid. “10 minutes of an early end. Nice job, Cream, as always.”

His protege beamed, her wide grin proudly displaying the gap of a missing tooth. He chuckled as she tapped out a happy little jingle on the piano in celebration, the sound reverberating throughout the pastel room.

Mere moments later, a soft knock sounded, and Cream hurried to let her mom in. 

“Are you finished your lesson?” Vanilla asked, carefully closing the door behind her.

“Yeah!” The bunny exclaimed, “how’d you know?”

Her mother patted Cream’s head, though her attention seemed to be elsewhere. “Well, sweetheart, you always play that tune when you’re done.” She then turned to Shadow, bowing her head slightly as if she were apologetic. “May I have a word with you?”

He nodded, curiosity perking in his ears as he shifted his shirt collar. “Of course, Mrs. Vanilla.”

“Please, just Vanilla is fine,” she remarked, smiling at his formality. She seemed nervous, he noticed, tense. “I need a favor. I’ve already scheduled Cream’s next lesson, as you know, but yesterday she… Cream, why don’t you share the news? You’re practically bouncing off the walls.”

Her mother’s comment was definitely accurate— if felt as if one little tap would send the bunny zipping around the room. “I won a dance competition! And they gave me tickets to see Mr. Sonic!” Cream piped, vibrating with excitement. Shadow pretended to know who she was talking about as the gears turned in his head.

“That’s… great. I’m so proud of you,” he picked her up in a congratulatory hug before turning his attention back to her mother. “I’m assuming that this event coincides with the lesson? If so, canceling it is no problem.”

“Mr. Shadow, Mother has an appointment when it happens,” Cream interjected, grasping his hand before he could fully let her go, as if by some magical power, her thoughts would translate through the touch. Vanilla only nodded, allowing her daughter to lead.

“Oh, you want me to take you, don’t you,” the hedgehog realized, his response laced with teasing undertones. “And if I don’t?”

“Pretty please?” Cream locked gazes with him, face morphed into a painting innocent and pleading. Caramel eyes grew big and glistening, a deep pool that threatened to drown him should he decline. Shadow twitched involuntarily at the display. 

“Don’t give me that face. I’m just joking— of course I’ll take you,” the tutor breathed, and that seemed to satisfy the bunny enough for her to tuck away the act for another day.

Vanilla breathed a sigh of relief, squeezing her daughter’s shoulder in silent acknowledgement of her effective (although slightly questionable) communication skills. “Thank you so much, Shadow.”

“No problem at all.”

………………………………

Cream’s little hand wrapped around Shadow’s fingers, gloved in protection against the chilly February air. The kid skipped along the line, dragging her chaperone with her, hyperactive from the sugar in the donuts he should not have bought her.

That pleading act was just too convincing…

The auditorium was crowded with fans young and old, most settled down in their places a long time ago. Although it was expected with how late they were in the acceptable entry frame, it posed a problem as the pair awkwardly scooted past the legs of the already seated, many scoffing in annoyance as he waved in apology.

Somehow, they made it to their spot before Cream exploded from anticipation, and soon the overhead lights went dim, shushing the audience. Different lights switched on, one after another, highlighting the stage in all kinds of pretty colors that seemed to captivate everyone but Shadow.

He really should have found out what this show was about beforehand, huh? Sorely regretting putting off the task in favor of an unnecessary house cleaning, he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. That blinding rainbow cascade was going to give him a headache. Glancing at Cream to make sure she hadn’t bounced out of her seat, he reached over to take her already shed jacket before working at his own. The building was heated quite nicely, so he folded them neatly and put them aside for the time being.

By the time he was done, a soft melody had already begun playing— violin, Shadow recognized, partnered with a quiet piano. The song was unfamiliar to him, but having grown up in a world of music, he’d developed a deep understanding of it, and having that knowledge helped him relax. His fingers flitted upon an imaginary instrument, picking apart the tune as the sounds filtered through his mind. 

Beside him, he felt Cream go completely still, a sharp contrast to the excited jumble she had been seconds ago. In fact, it felt like the whole room was holding its breath. A little suffocating, in all honesty, but he followed the general example and looked up.

Just in time. Right then, a lithe figure sprang onto center stage, striking a deeply bowed pose in time with a dramatic thrum. All eyes focused on him at once, everyone shifting forward in unison as if connected by one single mind. Shadow just squinted, unimpressed.

A blue hedgehog, dressed up all prim and pretty in something that seemed like it would be awkward to wear, he assumed that the dancer was the “Mr. Sonic” Cream had been so ecstatic to see. As multicolored lights swirled around them, Shadow couldn’t deny that there was a certain air of elegance to them that almost seemed magical. Yet he could not understand what the big deal was.

That is, until Sonic moved, along with a sharp crescendo in the melody, gracefully gliding across the stage akin to a figure skater— there seemed to be no hindrance, no friction, as if he didn’t touch the ground at all. Their eyes were closed as he twisted and twirled, complete confidence that their steps would land and they would be beautiful. 

For once in his life, Shadow didn’t pay attention to the music.

Suddenly they flipped, once, twice, much to the audience’s delight as everyone surged forward in their seats. And even as the dancer landed at the edge of the stage, they never once looked. Never once feared falling, as they maneuvered the border like a tightrope walker, delicately making their way around.

It wasn’t a specific style of dance they were doing, at least, not to his limited knowledge of the art. They were just moving. Yet there was a story hidden behind it all, one that was told without the use of words, but still communicated so clearly that Shadow could understand everything, could feel everything.

It was like magic.

At last Sonic came to a stop, once again at center stage, and dropped into a bow. A beat of silence resounded before the audience cheered, exploding with thunderous claps and shrill whistles. Beside Shadow, Cream grabbed his hand, exclaiming something he could not hear. He could only nod in response, which only kicked off more of the one-sided conversation that he sorely hoped was not important.

On stage, the blue hedgehog shouted something he barely missed, and Cream excitedly tugged at his sleeve. Sonic flashed a bright smile that gleamed in the stoplights, and Shadow swore several people swooned as sparkling emerald eyes passed over them. 

Someone who had gotten up to leave obstructed his view for only a moment… but when they made their way out of the row, he found himself locking gazes with the dancer.

It felt like someone was staring straight into his soul, yet it wasn’t a cold feeling. More warm, like a fire, swirling in his gut. 

Shadow could not, for the life of him, get his body to move.

Sonic winked at him, saluting to the general crowd before disappearing backstage. As he and Cream were caught in the mass of people moving out, he gripped their things tightly in one hand and held on to the bunny with the other, unable to do anything but wonder, what was that?

………………………………

As he found out much too late, Cream had neglected to tell Shadow that they were invited to the Meet & Greet after the show. He figured that was what’d slipped past him among the chaos. Keeping a vise grip on the bunny’s wrist, he followed the rest of the lucky few to a different room. 

It was quieter here than in the auditorium, and much more well lit. He assumed that this was originally a practice room of sorts, repurposed for this mini event. As they filed in a line to spend a few moments with the dancer, Shadow took the opportunity to text Vanilla about the change of plans. Easier said than done, because Cream had reverted to a bouncing ball of energy, and she took every chance to yank him forward in line, startling him every time.

Somehow, he managed to send a less-than-refined message to Vanilla without dropping his phone. But before he even had the time to look up, Cream tore herself from his grasp with a squeak. “Mr. Sonic!” 

“Heya, kiddo,” her idol replied with a grin, patting her head gently. She beamed, introducing herself excitedly, her pitched voice making it hard to decipher her swift speaking. But Sonic seemed to have no problem, answering all her rapid-fire questions like they planned specifically for this moment. 

Shadow let them have their time, picking up the things that had fallen from his arms when Cream had so abruptly pulled away. It was cute, really, the way the two interacted as if they were old friends. The dancer was making a very exaggerated motion to accompany the story that they— he, as per the pronouns displayed on his poster— was telling, his one person audience very engrossed.

Eventually Cream settled down long enough to take a picture, which was then printed and signed for her with a wink. But before they left and let someone else take their turn, Sonic got to one knee and whispered something to Cream that made her face light up like a firework. She somehow yelled and whispered at the same time. “Really?!”

“Would I lie to you?” The dancer grinned, much to Cream’s elation. Shadow sighed softly— he had no idea that she could get more excited than she already was. If this kept going… well, Vanilla was in for a very long night.

He hadn’t realized he was zoning off again until he felt a tug on his sleeve. Cream stared at him with expectant eyes, then cocked her head in Sonic’s direction. 

Shoot. Shadow looked up to see the dancer wearing a lopsided smile. Once he realized that he had the other’s attention, Sonic clapped his hands together. “So! How’d you enjoy the show…?” 

“Mr. Shadow,” Cream helpfully chimed, to which her idol nodded in thanks.

Said hedgehog rubbed his arm nervously, unsure how to respond. He settled for a shrug. “It was okay.”

Emerald eyes sparkled knowingly, although their owner seemed to have a great poker face. “Well, take care of little Cream here,” he patted her shoulder, to which she perked, again, “she’s got lots of potential.”

“Mhm.” That he knew. Who better than her teacher to assess her skill? Sonic’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, indicating the want for something more. Panic began mottling in Shadow’s stomach. Sue him, it was nerve-racking for a famous person to stare you down when you’re already bad at social interaction. What did he need…?

Both people in the room were staring at him now, the awkward silence doing nothing to help his nerves. On instinct, he shifted all his things to one arm and reached out for a handshake— something he found both polite and a good way to end conversations— with a “It was nice meeting you,” for good measure. However, Sonic took it in an entirely different way than he intended.

Soft lips, rosy from the previous exertion, pressed against the back of Shadow’s hand as emerald eyes stared teasingly into his own. Heat flooded tan cheeks instantly, and he clamped his jaw shut before it could fall open. Dimly registering a giggle from Cream, he was much too caught up in the fact that Sonic was kissing him.

Who the hell did that anymore?

Sonic straightened once more, the moment over as fast as it began. Yet somehow it felt as if hours had passed. The dancer was either oblivious to Shadow’s mental meltdown or he just didn’t care, bouncing on the balls of his feet like there was nothing wrong as he winked, giving a mock salute similar to the one he’d left the audience with. “It was nice to meet you too, Shadow. ‘Til we meet again!”

Shadow made a sound like he was being strangled, only serving to deepen his embarrassment along with the furious bloom of blush on his face. Somehow, he managed to keep a grip on everything tucked under his arm, despite it going slack in shock.

Before he could properly process everything, or even save himself some face, he and Cream were already outside, Shadow fumbling with his keys as he tried to get a hold on the one for his motorcycle.

Sometime in the building, amongst his memory lapse, they’d both put on their coats, leaving the bunny with one arm hooked around her chaperone’s. She was staring, caramel eyes worried. “Are you okay, Mr. Shadow?”

No.

“Yes. Now hop on, your mother’s waiting.”

[ophanim-vesper]

So... what did Titans actually look like?

Upon examining the murals, King, the Titan Trappers and Papa Titan himself, there seems to be inconsistencies with how Titans actually looked like when they were alive and grown.

So, I’ve gathered 3 theories to help explain this!

The Murals Are A Demonization Of Titans

This theory seems quite likely, of course a collection of murals, made by collectors, would depict their enemies as demonic and evil-looking creatures. 

I believe the spell the Collector used to make the Archive House is one created and taught by the Archivists, therefore the murals are according to the Archivists’ tastes and biases.

I mean, look at this mural. The Titans here are portrayed as skeletal beings (likely based on their now deceased appearance) and their wings are portrayed incorrectly (being on their arms instead of on their back). Plus the Titan Trapper in this mural is portrayed as heroic and valiant, further vilifying the Titans here.

One problem with this theory is that, in a world like the Demon Realm that has Snagglebacks and horrifying Teeth Fairies, it wouldn’t be too outlandish for the Titans to actually look like this, even if they were benevolent.

Plus, the mural in King’s birthplace still shows the same image for the ‘Titan’. Either the mural in that place is reversed (The actual Titan is the one throwing the spear, while the skeletal being is the enemy), or Titans did actually look like this.

(Interesting detail is that the giant monster here looks more like an otherworldly alien with a star on their chest, the patterns kinda look ‘space-like’ too. Makes you wonder what the Archivists actually looked like).

2. There Are Two Types Of Titans

This was a theory I believed in back when For The Future first came out. We didn’t know much of collectors and titans and the Collector-Titan war, so this made sense to me at the time.

The theory was that one of the Archivists fell in love with the Demon Realm and wanted to live there, so they became a Titan, specifically a ‘yellow-eyed Titan’. This created 2 Titan variants, the red-eyed Titans (the true Titans), and yellow-eyed Titans (Collector-Titans).

I mainly believed this theory because of the triple parallel it implied. Luz, Caleb and the Collector-Titan were all foreign beings who wanted to live in the Demon Realm, even if it was forbidden, or meant the disapproval of their peers/family members.

Also, I believed King was a descendant of the yellow-eyed titans, seeing how the Titans in the murals had red eyes instead of yellow eyes (though this could’ve been another instance of demonization). Though if this was true, it’d be cool if King turned out to be related to the Collector. One of the Archivists becoming a Titan could also explain why these murals only have 3 collectors instead of 4, one of their siblings was missing and they assumed the Titans did something to them, leading them to wipe them all out.

However, this theory can easily be debunked, as the mural where a Collector turns into a Titan could just be the origin of the Titan Trappers. Still, this is a nice thought and would make the entire story of the Owl House so beautifully poetic as these 3 separate narratives all carry the same theme.

3. Titans Can Change Their Form

This is the theory I currently believe in the most (though the second one is still my favorite overall). It makes the most sense, is the most realistic, and was somewhat shown in the finale ‘Watching And Dreaming’.

I believe Titans can change their size and shape, going from a more averagely-sized Titan (more closely resembling the Titan Trappers), to a colossal behemoth that resembles their depiction in the murals. I mean, when you live on a planet that you can take up nearly 15% of, it’d make sense that you’d want to change size so you could actually live on the planet. Also, Papa Titan kind of showed this in the finale, when he went from dad mode to bad mode.

So, much like Globgor from SVTFOE, Titans can simply change from a smaller form to their true colossal form. I imagine the colossal form is when they’re at their fullest potential, so they stayed in this form a lot while fighting the Collectors. The collectors saw this form of them the most, so they assumed this is what all Titans naturally looked like.

But those are my theories, what are yours? If any of you even paid attention to these ‘inconsistencies’. I’m probably just overthinking all of this and there were no inconsistencies, but still. Anyways have a nice day and keep watching and dreaming :)

[jellyfishzebracat]

Snippet of an rwrb fanfic I’m writing it’s a/b/o and Alex is a 29 year old law professor who meets 21 year old Henry after Henry is forcefully moved to America to study law by his grandmother.

It’s this Alex

And this Henry

Alex hadn’t always wanted to be a law professor, he’d kind of just, fallen into it.

He’d studied law at NYU and shortly after gotten a job as a paralegal but that got , stale.

So during a late night rant to his mother she’d suggested he do some more study and look into teaching as a professor.

So Alex studied and then applied for a job at the university his mother was the head of.

Alex wasn’t proud of using the nepotism card but he did anyway.

So fast forward a few years and Alex is 29 years old teaching as a law professor, now finally on his own for the second year after teaching as a TA under Zarah Bankston and old friend of his moms and now a dean at the university.

Alex doesn’t expect anything to go wrong this year however that all changes when Henry fox walks into his lecture hall.

He’s pretty, blonde and everything Alex wants in an omega.

Alex class is small only 100 students so Henry already stuck out, however when he opens his mouth and speaks with that pretty English accent Alex is gone.

Which is bad, really bad because Henry is his student.

Everything goes well for a few weeks until one night Alex has finished his 6 pm lecture and is in the Chinese restaurant across from the campus when Henry walks in.

Henry walks up to the counter and Alex watches as Henry places his order, when he goes to pay however his card declines, once, twice, three times. Henry opens his mouth most likely to cancel his order when Alex blurts out “I’ll pay” and is swiping his American express.

“I .. thankyou.. you didn’t have to do that, professor ” Henry glances up at him

“It’s no problem and please don’t call me professor, it’s Alex“ Alex replies, leaning one arm on the shop counter.

Henry’s phone pings and he sees Henry’s face twist before he’s huffing out a breath and his scent sours.

“everything ok” Alex attempts to calm Henry but the agitation doesn’t leave Henry’s face.

“My bloody roommate just kicked me out of my dorm for the night, apparently he’s found some girl to shag” Henry spits out

“Shag” the word feels foreign in Alex’s mouth

“ it means fuck, Alex” Henry’s rolling his eyes but grinning up at him and Alex can’t help but return the smile.

“Um maybe we could eat together at my place” the words are out of Alex’s mouth before he can even process how much of a boundary that crosses and how bad of an idea that is, Henry beams “That sounds wonderful Alex”

Soon the cashier is calling out that their food is done and Henry is following Alex out to his car.

Henry sinks into the leather passenger seat of Alex’s Lexus and sighs “ Christ, I forgot how nice leather car seats were”.

Alex shoots Henry a questioning look and Henry looks down at his feet.

“My family’s quite well off however since my grandmother shipped me over here with barley any money, I’ve been missing out on the luxury’s I used to enjoy”

“I hope I’m not over stepping but why’d she send you here” Alex questions.

“Apparently it’s unbecoming for a member of our family to be an omega and to want to study literature, I was at Oxford on a scholarship in my last year and then she pulled me out to study law here in America” Henry’s answer is pained, Alex can’t imagine what it would be like to have your whole life up ended like that.

The rest of the drive continues on a happier note as Alex and Henry sing along to some of the songs on Alex playlist until they arrive at Alex’s brownstone.

As they step into the house Alex sees Henry looking around, his head tilted upward, was he scenting?

Alex chooses to ignore it for his own sanity and leads Henry to the couch and excuses himself to change out of his teaching clothes and into something more comfortable.

Alex now in a t-shirt and sweats joins Henry on the couch, Alex thinking of something to watch while they eat, asks Henry if he’s a Star Wars fan, Henry’s face lights up and he gleefully explains that he loves return of the Jedi, Alex scoffs and has to correct Henry “ the best star wars movie is clearly the empire strikes back” Henry flashes Alex a gummy smile and rolls his eyes “ I suppose I could endure watching empire”.

[lolotheparagon]

Who were your favorite characters from G3/G4 mlp and why?

G3:

Wisteria - i love a good garden horse who's also a big socialist and hates the idea of being royalty cos she misses being with her friends

Minty - the goofiest lovable horse in the entire franchise that always delivered G3's most iconic moments (you broke santa? scene comes to mind) and its offensive she was never brought back for G4

Pinkie Pie - I honestly prefer this version over G4 Pinkie, cos seeing a level-headed, snarky yet still upbeat Pinkie, its a lot more fun and interesting to see than a wacky, emotionally unstable mess that is G4 Pinkie

Kimono - I really wish she was in G3 a lot more, cos the idea of a village hermit pony (not because she hates everyone but because shes very introverted) who occasionly helps the ponies with problems or give advice or just be someone to confide in is a great idea

Lily Lightly - her special about learning to love your weird wonderful self is such an important, sweet lesson cos even grown ass adults struggle to embrace being cringe. And her horn glowing makes her passion for lights that much more interesting cos its like she's sharing her love of lights to make everyone glow like she does. What a pioneer, she invented electric lights for these horses

Rarity - I love how much of a rambunctious little goober Rarity is, especially for a princess in training. Like she doesnt care that she never fell off a waterfall, she immediately wants to do it again. She loves to rollerskate, play around in the mud and wants to play with a caterpillar rather than study, like a real kid would do. But she does actually take her princess lessons seriously and grows into a more responsible person, without losing her fun-loving self.

Scootaloo - out of all the G3 ponies, Scoots stands out for being a little ankle biter but has a good heart. She can be selfish, impulsive and stubborn, again G3 really knows how to write kid characters

Sweetie Belle - the epitome of no thoughts, head empty and I love her for it. She's so baby and happy, that telling a white lie is a foreign concept to her

Cheerilee - I like her more neurotic and shy version than her teacher counterpart in G4, I also like that her dynamic with Scootaloo isnt toxic, unlike a lot of sibling relationships in media, the two are not only similar in age but also share the same stubbornness, but the two are quick to apologise to each other and its clear they still love each other, despite their differences.

Rainbow Dash - I LOVE DIVA DASH SO MUCH. WHY THE FUCK DID BRONIES COMPLAIN ABOUT HER OVER THE YEARS? SHE'S HILARIOUS?!

G4:

Twilight Sparkle - as much as I hate how much she became a vector for the writers spewing friendship, I love how Twilight became a great protagonist growing from an asocial student to the princess of friendship, being the straight mare to everyone's antics. Although her perfectionism and fanaticism have become flanderised over the years

Fluttershy - talk about a glow up, she went from an insufferable uwu wallflower to an introverted, yet snarky and self-confident pony who has retained all her lessons of self-assertion and yet still being the sweet, shy horse we all know. Also shy quiet characters having dry wit and has calm indignation when something ticks them off is just peak character writing

Rarity - this horse made me love ultra feminine characters, i remember hating Rarity when I started watching cos I knew she would be just the stereotypical diva bitch character that reminded me of all the girls i had to deal with in school at the time (me having insecurities about my femininty didnt help), but damn i couldnt be more wrong, cos she's a wonderfully sassy yet kind and passionate character. Her love of fashion and creating is infectious and while her friends are wildly different to her, she tries her best to make something she knows they will all like and isnt afraid to get her hooves dirty to help others

Discord - the most uniquely designed and characterised character. As someone who starts off a chaotically evil villain to a chaotic good reformed ally cos the shy horse reached out to him, its no surprise he became so popular in both the show and fandom. And to this day, his redemption is the most well-executed example ive seen cos of how tentative it was. I love how incredibly devoted he is to Fluttershy and will kill anyone who harms her. I just wish he had more scenes with the rest of the mane 6, I would've loved more Pinkie and Discord pulling pranks together.

Maud Pie - you will never find another pony in the entirety of MLP like Maud. Stoic, blunt and very literal in her choice of words, expressionless yet becomes instantly emotional and caring when her loved ones are hurt or in danger. Like whoever wrote her, I love you cos she's the most refreshing character ive seen. I love characters who look like eternally on autopilot yet will spring into action like a bat out of hell if the people they love are hurt.

Sunset Shimmer - The fact Sunset Shimmer didnt become a protagonist in her own right in Equestria Girls cos WE HAVE TO HAVE A TWILIGHT in every MLP G4 universe is a crying shame. She was saved from being a boring high school girl villain obsessed with power and thats it to a strong-willed, passionate, devoted friend who will fight tooth and nail to make her friends happy. I love how EQG reforms a bully without forcing Sunset to lose her edge and fiery temper cos that was always the biggest problem kids shows fall into when redeeming bullies. That scene were Sunset yells at Sci-Twi for unintentionally causing a lot of damage to Canterlot High and putting her friends in danger was palpable.

Princess Cadance - one of the most level headed characters in the show and honestly does a much better job at being a mentor to Twilight than Celestia. Also her relationship with Shining Armor is peak power couple. I love how despite being more powerful than he is, Cadance never treats him as someone beneath her. She's just great and I hate teenage me for calling her a bland Barbie horse.

Trixie - Trixie is the prime example of designated bitch cos the show tries desperately hard to make her look like a villain when all she did was put on a magic show and boast about her magic. Even when she gets redeemed, she was treated with more scorn and derision than DISCORD (who did a lot worse than Trixie) and becomes friends with a pony who one time SOLD HER HOUSE WITHOUT HER PERMISSION TO A RANDO JUST BECAUSE THEY HAD AN ARGUMENT THAT THE WAGON WAS TOO SMALL FOR BOTH OF THEM TO SLEEP IN. JESUS this show treated her like shit. its a damn shame cos Trixie's self-confidence and sarcasm made her a delight and underneath all her theatrics, she really does care for people and that wouldve been interesting to discuss if the show didnt constantly harp on her being arrogant COS HOW DARE SHE

Spike - Ive really grown to like Spike looking back, while Twilight has become more erractic and insane as time went on, Spike has become the straight man. I love how unphased he is about liking traditionally girly things and is comfortable with being a dragon who likes pony things. Of course bronies lambasted him for being selfish and mean or impulsive at times, cos how dare a kid character acts like a kid. I also like how overly excited he is about wanting to help others, from Twilight to Applejack to Rarity. I just really wish the writers dropped the whole crush he had on Rarity, cos the show got REALLY WEIRD with it.

Sunburst - what a delightfully nerdy horse. From hyperfixating on ancient pony lore and artifacts to being precise about a right answer percentage in a town trivia contest, he's hilarious and way too good of a character to be saddled with Starlight Glimmer of all people. He shouldve been Trixie's best friend if we're being honest.

Sorry for late reply!

[sparklingdemon]

hi! my apologies to bother, but I just thought I’d ask here considering I’m not sure where else to do so-

aside from G.Red, what relationships/opinions does Leaf have on the other POKéPASTAs?

hi! i haven't thought much about this, since fallen leaf was more about her opinions on the canon pokemon games - that's a trait she shares with glitchy red, so that's the only one i've given her a canonical opinion on.

that being said, lemme fire off some quick trainerpastas and her thoughts on them!

lost silver!gold: obviously, she feels sorry for him. the horrible feelings that come with accepting your death can be a lot for anyone to deal with, and she can relate immensely with the inability to accept your own early death. she would definitely be polite and sympathetic towards him... but, though she won't say it out loud, she does wonder why kris didn't suffer the same fate as him…

blake (snow on mt silver): similar to LS!gold, leaf does feel sorry for blake, but there's some culture shock involved. fallen leaf's universe is a lot more meta, so things like freezing to death aren't a concern. characters can stand on mt silver for days without freezing or dying. her red has been kept prisoner there for years, without ever being concerned or bothered by the cold at all. violently freezing to death is a foreign concept for fallen leaf, so it'd definitely be a shock for her, but once she gets over it she'll be respectful…!

steven (strangled red): steven's from a different era than leaf. i don't think he exists in the FRLG timeline like he does in RBY (the lack of missingno. makes his miki revival plan impossible) meaning, leaf never would have met him when she was a little kid like gen 1 red did. she never would have looked up to him as a cool role model, she never would have seen his rise and fall. she can only see him as he is now, a crazed murderer who attacks any trainer who dares to enter his house. so yeah, she doesn't like him! she doesn't really like murders in general. despite being a creepypasta character herself, fallen leaf really is a canon character at heart, and is horrified by things that are foreign to the vanilla pokemon games, like violence. which leads up to my next pasta trainer…

blue (blue tears): this one is a lot more complicated and personal than steven. though BT takes place in gen 1, it proposes the idea that red's rival secretly hated him all along and was willing to kill him over it. and if those feelings could apply to red, they should apply to HER, as well. leaf knows that her own blue would never do something like that (he loves and misses her painfully, even tho his feelings have been misplaced onto red), but it makes her horrified and sad to think that blue could ever do that. in a way, she'd feel hurt and betrayed by BT!blue, even though it's not "her" blue. she'd be angry he didn't make his feelings clearer, that he couldn't work it out with his rival… but deep down she'd know the problem isn't red (or by extension, her), it's blue's, for making the choice to kill someone. though, she probably imagines what it would be like if HER blue was like BT!blue. if he came to attack red, she'd know that all of that hate he feels for red isn't meant for him, but for her. he just wouldn't remember it. and that unease wouldn't leave her.

that's all the major trainerpastas i think are relevant for her to have an opinion on, but if there's any others you were interested in hearing, feel free to lmk!

[loldragoon-ffxiv]

Obligatory Long Dawntrail Post

I wanted to wait a while to say anything and let my hype die down first, but I think it's finally time. Overall, I really liked it! Especially how it relates to my WoL, which is more what I want to focus on because the internet has had enough hot takes about Wuk Lamat. More rambling under the cut:

To get the big picture stuff out of the way, I have always felt that this game is at its best when it's leaning into its politics. I'll admit it's risky to do from a commercial standpoint in this very polarized world, and sometimes I think it misses, especially when they try to touch on something that Japan has a huge blind spot towards culturally. But many of its best story beats, in my opinion, are the political ones. I'll always remember playing patch 2.55 for the first time, and that moment of realization I had watching Nanamo and Alphinaud both face consequences for their well-intentioned idealism, that we may not solve all the worlds' problems through the power of friendship and being really good at fighting alone. Obviously, the power of friendship is a big part of the game's central ethos, but it isn't enough. It was a hint at the underlying pragmatism of the game's politics that I really wasn't expecting from an MMO, especially one that has as many cheesy hopeful feel-good moments as this one tends to. I am also a big Stormblood liker overall, as much as I acknowledge it had serious problems with the pacing and character writing. I think the comparisons to Dawntrail are fair, but I like the same things about both of them. They're both best interpreted through the lens of actual world history and current events, and I think seem more shallow on the surface than they really are if you're not paying attention to the smaller moments with minor NPCs during the "exploring the new zones" bits of MSQ. I'd argue that Dawntrail did an even better job with its political commentary than Stormblood did, and I had a feeling it would when they mentioned they were hiring sensitivity readers. I think they did a great job of addressing a lot of the things that made people uncomfy about Stormblood by having the Scions take the backseat and letting the Turali people have their own agency in the story. I have a lot more opinions on the politics in Dawntrail overall, but I think other people have mostly said everything I want to say about that already. More interestingly, I think this expansion really surprised me with how well a lot of my character decisions with Zoisite, my WoL, ended up paying off. Because I hadn't really thought of Zoisite as an OC until early Heavensward, I tried to think about her backstory through the lens of what would make her the most interesting protagonist for the themes and plotlines I thought the game was trying to set up. I decided to make her half Doman, with a foreign adventurer father, and with an older half-sister that spent most of Zoisite's life fighting against Garlemald. During the events of 1.0, while her sister was busy with the XIVth legion and Project Meteor, Zoisite ended up more of an adventurer instead, and entangled with Minfilia and the Path of the Twelve because of the Echo, which was unique to Zoisite. I wanted her to have a personal connection to the Garlemald plotline so that it felt deserved for her to be the one to "resolve" it, but explain why she was willing to go along with these other diversions during ARR and HW that weren't related to it, too. Obviously, the game itself had a similar idea with Lyse, but I thought the parallel was actually kinda nice and it was a big part of why I ate SB up as much as I did. As much as SE and the writers have no real control over this, these accidental predictions and coincidences have honestly been a big part of why I have enjoyed FFXIV as much as I have. My favorite moments in the game are when I'm wondering if the writers are reading my google docs for ideas. It makes me feel like I'm doing a good job picking up on subtext.

But aside from her backstory, I let MSQ itself determine most of Zoisite's arc, and I very rarely find myself "retconning" MSQ vs the other way around. She is just trailer WoL/Meteor in most ways, with the big exception being Feldspar's existence from the late HW patches on. Because Feldspar is my RP character and I'm mostly writing 20ish years post-MSQ, Zoisite's primary role as a character has always been Feldspar's estranged birth mother first, and MSQ WoL second. When I'm experiencing the game through Zoisite's perspective, however, I constantly have to reconcile these two roles, and it has honestly been very difficult to do that during ShB and EW. It's hard to justify the tedious fetch quests when the stakes (for her, at least) are so high. It made it very hard for her to care much about the ancients, or the people on the First, or Zenos's weird one-sided obsession with her, even when the game was trying to force her to. As much as possible, I've tried to rationalize away these character inconsistencies as an intentional distraction on her part, and that the excuse of saving the world and helping people has been keeping some of that fear and guilt about "abandoning" her son at bay for a while now.

And then Dawntrail really just came out and addressed it for me, in a way I was not expecting. It presented itself from the outset as a "vacation" from the high stakes, where Zoisite was just kinda standing in the background most of the time, along with a VERY HEAVY THEME of parental abandonment to force her to reckon with her issues. She spent all of Dawntrail wondering if Feldspar would feel the same way about her that Krile and Wuk Lamat feel about their parents, and see it as a noble sacrifice for his best interest, or if he would resent her for abandoning him without explanation like Gulool Ja and Koana do. Most importantly, it was much harder for Zoisite to pretend that she had no other choice than to give Feldspar up when she was constantly facing the reality that she could step down at this point and the world would probably keep turning without her protecting it. Unfortunately, it's too late for her to change her mind about Feldspar, both because Feldspar's narrative demands it, and also because years have passed and she can't just casually ask for him back even if she wanted to. Zoisite had no choice but to mourn and let it go, and I think watching Cahciua and Erenville's interactions in Living Memory also helped with that, because she kinda got a glimpse of the type of mother she most likely would have ended up as, and saw that motherhood might not have worked out as perfectly as she'd started fantasizing about in retrospect. Like Cahciua, she cares the most about seeing the world and helping people, and doing what's "right," and she would always struggle with putting anyone else (including her own son) ahead of that, if it came down to it. Without another parent in the picture to help, there was no route that wouldn't end with Feldspar feeling abandoned by Zoisite in some way. All-in-all, I liked how this gave me a satisfying conclusion to that arc for her, and a nice refresh for future expansions. I'd rank it on par with SB and ShB for how much I enjoyed them, with my overall ranking being something like HW > SB-ShB-DT > ARR > EW. There's also that minor detail about the Alexandrians having rock names, and Zoisite's existing backstory that her name is a family naming convention from her father's side, and that she doesn't really know where he's from. I have yet to figure out how to make that connection, but man. The possibilities.

[separatist-apologist]

Young Gods

If there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes

Summary: When invaders come to Elain's shores, she's certain it means death.

Taken to a foreign land, Elain finds herself a princess of a people she barely understands and married to a man she's not sure she can trust. But Elain will need more than her wits if she wants to survive.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Read on AO3

Elain had never managed to get clothes back on Lucien. For three days, he remained sprawled out on their bed, covered beneath blankets until he became too hot and kicked them off. She remained nearby, waiting for his fever to break and trying not to examine him too closely. Still, more than once she’d woken to him grumbling something in his sleep only to find his body tight and his cock rigid.

Elain wondered what he dreamt about to cause that. 

By the third day, Elain could barely keep her eyes open. She wasn’t sick, just exhausted from the stress of proving the whole palace wrong—that Lucien would survive, and so would the rest of them. She crawled onto the bed early in the morning, intending to sleep just long enough to not be so dead on her feet, but not so long that he woke before her.

Sleep consumed her, and by the time Elain jerked awake, the sun was setting in the distance, and Lucien was sprawled on his stomach, head resting against his arm while he looked at her. When their eyes met, he smiled with obvious delight. Elain reached out to press the back of her knuckles against his forehead.

Cool, and a little sweaty, but the appropriate temperature. “You’re awake,” he said, still as naked as he’d been all week. Elain could see the muscles of his back bunch and shift as he crept closer. “I was dreaming about you.”

Embarrassment flooded through her at the memory of how often she’d come in to find him splayed out and erect, gripping the sheets and lost in a dream. Of her. Doing what, she wondered. Elain wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

“You should take a bath and let me strip the bed,” Elain told him, rolling off the edge before she did something foolish.

Like touching that expanse of bare skin.

“You could have left me,” Lucien said to her back. She heard him sitting, groaning softly from the effort. “No one would have blamed you. Not even my mother.”

Elain’s eyes burned at the thought. “Is that the sort of death you think you deserve? Alone in the street?”

“Well—no,” he admitted, coming closer. “I’m not complaining about what you did. I’m thankful you brought me back. I’m just surprised you chose to keep me around when letting me die would have solved all your problems. You could have lived here as princess…picked a new husband…someone you chose…”

His fingers skimmed the side of her arms. “I’ll take my chances, I suppose,” Elain managed, swallowing hard. 

“I haven’t forgotten your promise,” Lucien pressed, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “If I must bathe, come with me.”

“I’ll be a distraction.”

“I like distractions.”

“You need rest—”

“I need you,” he disagreed, banding his arm around her stomach. “You could have left me to die.”

It was a question and she knew it. Lucien was too afraid to ask and Elain too cowardly to admit that she didn’t want to be here without him. Forced as their marriage had been, she considered Lucien an ally. He would keep her safe. Elain turned, forgetting he was naked.

Her eyes went straight down his body to the rising length between them. She swallowed, jerking her gaze back to his uncharacteristically solemn expression. 

“Why didn’t you give me a ring?”

His brow furrowed. “For what?”

She held up her bare hand. “Men gave their wives rings—to show others they’re married.”

His lips formed an oh. “You can have a ring. Do…do I choose it? Or do you—how does that work?”

“You choose.”

A smile graced his features. “I’ll have you one in the morning. Anything else?”

Elain hesitated and Lucien caught it, raising his brows. Urging her to tell him what else was missing. 

“We didn’t have a wedding,” she finally said, feeling embarrassed and childish. A smile split Lucien’s face.

“Are you asking me to marry you, my pretty wife?”

Elain opened her mouth to protest, but Lucien pressed his finger to her lips. “I accept,” he said cheerfully, sighing as if he were getting everything he could ever possibly want. “Now, are you going to take a bath with me?”

“No, Lucien, I am not going to bathe with you,” Elain replied, darting out of his grasp. It was impossible not to notice his erection, bobbing between them with interest. It would have been so easy to reach for it, to take it in her hand and see what all the fuss was about. 

“Why? I’ve agreed to your terms, haven’t I? I’ve sworn to make an honest woman of you, a vow I technically made the moment I laid eyes on you. You may recall that moment as the time you attempted to stab me in the face.”

“Yes, Lucien, I remember our first meeting vividly,” Elain said, hands on her hips. “I also remember how you fell sideways off a horse and I had to get you back up, so you’ll forgive me if I want to see you bathe on your own.”

Lucien’s brow furrowed a moment. “Who has been taking care of you?” he finally asked.

Her cheeks burned under his gaze. “Why would I need that?”

Lucien nodded slowly. “I see. Get in bed—”

“Lucien!”

“Just get in bed,” he said, clearly exasperated. “If I was going to menace you with my cock, I would be putting you in myself. I promise not to touch you. Yet,” he amended, as if realizing he couldn’t keep that promise for long. 

“I’m not sick,” Elain protested. Lucien bit his bottom lip.

“This is part of marriage, is it not?”

“I’ve never been married before.” She could think of nothing else to say. Elain’s heart pounded painfully in her chest. 

“Neither have I,” he reminded her, nodding his head toward their bed.

“The sheet—”

“The sheets can wait,” he said patiently. “But I cannot. Get in bed. Go to sleep.”

Elain swallowed, blinking back tears she’d been holding in ever since he’d gotten sick. Elain hadn’t even realized she’d been drowning, that her emotions were so bottled. And all it took was her very naked, very aroused husband—a stranger, truly—to tell her to go to sleep to see that first tear slip down her cheek.

“Oh, Elain,” he whispered as she shook her head back and forth, one hand thrown out to keep him from coming any closer.

“I will,” she said, her voice thick. “If you get in the bath.”

“I’ll be back, you know,” he warned her. Elain shrugged her shoulders, quickly wiping that tear away.

“And I’ll be asleep.”

“You better be,” he warned, and with a toss of that thick, long hair over his toned shoulders, made his way to the bathroom. Elain watched him go, letting the flex of his ass settle some of the fear that had begun bubbling in her stomach. 

He was okay, she reminded herself. He wasn’t going to die, and he wasn’t going to leave her here alone. It was strange how just a week before, Elain might have gotten on her knees and begged him to take her back home.

And now she’d get on her knees and beg him to let her stay. 

Elain forced herself to take a breath, listening as water began to gush loudly from behind the bathroom door. Lucien groaned loud enough for her to hear, presumably lowering himself into the water for the first time in a week. 

She still stripped the bed, working quickly so she could climb under clean blankets before Lucien finished. As it turned out, there was no danger he’d beat her—she heard him drain the water as sleep began to wash over her, only to refill the tub when he’d finished.

Elain fell into dreamless sleep without really meaning to. And when she woke, it was to the sensation of someone brushing their fingertips over her cheek, pushing away wild, tangled curls. Elain twisted, blinking against the first rosy rays of dawn. 

Lucien looked radiant, the picture of good health with his hair half braided off his handsome face. He was dressed, too, though only in sleep pants. 

“That’s the first time you’ve wanted to touch me,” he told her, a soft smile gracing his features. And true enough, Elain found her head propped against his bare chest, one arm flung over his stomach. 

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she replied, wishing his face wasn’t as close as it was. Her heart picked up at the sight, at the smell of clean soap and whatever scent that was so wholly him. His hand was still on her face, gently caressing her skin as if he couldn’t help himself. Elain could have pulled back.

She didn’t want to. Not when he smiled at her and said, “Too late. I’m never going to sleep well without you, now.”

Elain tried to roll away, though she didn’t really want to, only for Lucien to drag her right back.

“Where are you doing?” he whispered, his breath fanning over her neck. “There’s still an hour before dawn.”

“I should check on Arina–”

“You should check on me,” he insisted, a hand spanning over her lower back. “Am I well enough for a horse, Elain?”

There was something distinctly flirty beneath his tone, but he was asking her to answer something she had no framework for. And so when Elain replied, “I can’t be sure,” and Lucien’s expression burned with heat, she knew she’d fallen right into his trap.

“Only one way to find out,” he whispered, lips brushing her own. A bolt of excitement shot through her, keeping her pressed against him. His hold was loose, easy enough to push away if she’d wanted to. 

She didn’t. Ever since that night when he’d let her watch him touch himself, Elain hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him. Even when he’d been sick, lost to fever, she’d caught herself staring at his naked form.

Wondering what it would feel like to have that expanse of hard, naked flesh pressed against her own. She was about to find out, for better or worse, though Lucien, instead of pressing his lips to hers like she’d been hoping he would, reached behind him for something.

“In case you think I’m trying to take liberties,” he whispered, holding up a glimmering, gold band for her inspection. Elain allowed Lucien to slide it over her finger, just as she’d imagined.

Graysen might. Holding up her hand, Elain examined the sparkling orange gem, set in a sunburst setting and glowing like he’d somehow managed to capture a beam of light.

“Did I get it right?” he asked, his eyes bouncing over her expression.

He had no idea that even the highest-born women would have expected little more than a band made of iron. Even Arina, as a literal princess, wouldn’t have been given a ring this lovely. 

“There are others,” Lucien began, interpreting her silence all wrong. “I can take you—”

She silenced him with a clumsy kiss. Lucien’s eyes went wide for only a moment, surprised she’d kissed him at all. And Elain, embarrassed, meant to pull back.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he whispered, threading a hand in her hair to pull her back. Where Elain was inexperienced, Lucien was practiced. His lips were soft, guiding her through the kiss without making her feel like she was doing things all wrong. Lucien responded the more enthusiastic Elain became, pulling her closer and closer until she was practically on top of him. When it became clear she wasn’t going anywhere, released his hold on the back of her head in favor of sliding his hands up and down her back. 

She liked it. That was, perhaps, the most surprising part of kissing him. Elain liked the soft taste of him, like the way his stubbled skin scraped over her cheek, how his hands were gentle against her bare skin without being demanding. 

Lucien flipped her to her back when her tongue darted out, sliding over the seam of his lips with brazen curiosity.

“Fuck, Elain,” he panted, using one of his powerful knees to part her legs so he might settle between them. “Are you real? Or did I imagine you?”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Lucien kissed her again and again, his tongue finding her own until Elain was dizzy and desperate. She didn’t know what she wanted, even as her mind began to chant more, give me more, more—

A knock on the door stopped Lucien just as he’d gripped her hip, pulling her hard into him so she could feel that rigid length.

He groaned softly, pressing his forehead against her shoulder. “Yes?” he called, his voice echoing through their interconnected chambers. There was a moment of hesitation, and then his mothers voice.

“Are you well?”

Lucien cleared his throat, pressed a kiss to Elain’s temple, and murmured, “We’re not done here. Not yet.”

Elain could only nod, gulping down air as he removed himself from her.

“Give me a moment!” he called to his mother, turning in a half circle in their bedroom, as if he’d forgotten where his clothes were.

“You stay put,” he ordered, running a hand through his hair. Elain’s eyes traveled down his toned chest to the bulge in his trousers and how strangely thrilling she found the whole thing. As if she hadn’t seen him fully naked multiple times by then. “I’ll have breakfast sent up.”

Elain straightened. “And then what?”

He smiled. “Leave it to me.”

ARINA: 

Arina had slipped out of bed before dawn, dressing in coral pink before making her way to the library. After days of being sick—and one or two more of allowing Eris to fuss over her—she was ready to be anywhere but bed. 

For the scowling son of Rhodes, Eris sure was fussy. Deep down, she knew he was afraid—and that was something she had no map for. He barely knew her, had abducted her and despite the attraction simmering, and his strange kindness, Arina kept waiting for him to prove her right. To show her he was no better than anyone else. Maybe even worse. After all, Eris’s actions had condemned more than just her, but a whole group of women married against their will to men they never would have chosen for themselves. 

Liking Eris felt like a betrayal, besides. 

So hiding in the library was a safe bet, knowing Eris would wake up wanting her, and, when he wasn’t able to find her, would lick his wounds up in his office until she couldn’t avoid him any longer. It was a toss up as to who would pick the first argument, only that by the time night rolled around, Eris would be storming off to sleep on a divan, and Arina could absolve herself of all the guilt she felt for letting him do what he’d done the other day.

For what she’d done in return.

What she still wanted to do. 

Dawn broke bright and warm, and as the sun rose, bringing life to the library, Arina allowed herself to relax in her chair. Pulling her knees beneath her dress, Arina focused on the book instead of scanning the library which, in retrospect, was her first mistake.

Of course he’d wait her out. Lull her into a false sense of security. And when her husband did strike, it was lethal precision. One minute, Arina was just about to see if the rogue pirate would jump off the edge of the ship to save the princess he swore he hated, and the next Arina was upside down, hanging off Eris’s shoulder.

“What are you doing?!” she screeched as her book flopped to the floor.

“Retrieving my wayward wife,” Eris replied, his hand sliding down her spine to lightly slap her ass. “Aren’t we beyond this, my darling?”

“Beyond what?!”

“Your misplaced guilt,” he replied evenly, taking the steps carefully. “Imagine my disappointment when I woke up from a dream about the pretty woman I keep in my bed—and her appreciative hands—only to find no such good morning?”

“You managed just fine before me,” Arina hissed, digging her elbow into his spine. Eris didn’t falter, which was good given he would have dragged them both to the ground. 

“Did I, Arina? Because despite how difficult you attempt to make things, I’m not so sure I prefer life before you.”

She sucked in a breath. “Take that back.”

He scoffed. “No, I don’t think I will. Admit that you like me, too. That you’re happy here.”

“I would never.”

“Are you so sure?” Eris asked, striding into the brightly lit hall like a man with purpose. 

“If I could go back, I would,” she lied. It was the fight she’d wanted, though earlier in the day. Eris set her to her feet, pulling her by the wrist toward an open window far from the main hall. The freckles on his fair face were stark and Arina considered she’d taken things too far this time. Eris took a deep breath and Arina waited for his rage.

“Is that true?”

“Yes.”

He winced as if she’d physically struck him. There was nothing but silence between them and a churning in her gut that Arina had done something unforgivable to him. After he’d taken care of her, she ought to have been grateful, should have been far kinder. But Eris was right—she was still mired in her own guilt over Elain, over Vassa, and every other woman who’d been taken that shouldn’t have been.

“I see,” he finally said, smoothing his hand over his white and gold jacket. “We haven’t consummated our marriage, so I suppose—”

He hesitated, blinking into oblivion.

“Eris?” she whispered. Surely he wouldn’t actually send her back? 

That moment of hesitation drew him back. “Do you want to leave?” he asked her again. Arina’s heart threatened to leave her body, was beating so fast she thought she might throw up.

“Why are you asking me this? You said…you swore…”

“Your uncle is coming,” he said instead, holding her gaze. Arina reached for the wall to keep herself from falling in a heap to the ground. Eris lunged, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer.

“He wants you back.”

“What…” Arina couldn’t get the words out. 

“I intend to tell him to burn in hell,” Arina whispered into her hair, his whole body as tight as her own. “That he can take you over my dead body. But if you want to return–”

“No,” she whispered into his neck. “I’m sorry. Don’t…”

Eris exhaled, sliding a hand up her back. She could feel his relief and how it settled him. 

“Why is he coming?”

“Lucien’s troops are at the border of his little stronghold,” Eris murmured. “It’s a negotiation for territory and power—and you. He doesn’t seem aware of what I’ve done, and assumes you are a prisoner.”

She looked up at him, holding that amber gaze. 

Eris offered her an edged smile. “He’s going to find out. Your home is technically mine, through marriage. He is merely a vassal lord and I intend to put him on his knees and make him grovel.”

“Couldn’t Lucien just…kill him?” Arina asked.

“He could,” Eris agreed. “In fact, I think he’d like knowing you asked. “But if anyone is going to kill him, it will be you.”

“Eris,” she whispered, but he was shaking his head. 

“When arrives, I want him to see you as you are,” Eris told her, lifting her chin so she couldn’t look away. I want him to see my wife decide if he lives or dies.”

“He will not be impressed by your theatrics, Eris,” Arina tried to tell him. How did she explain her uncle to him—that Eris was better off just killing him at the docks rather than let him speak at all. He had such a way about him, a charm that could be disarming. Arina had seen him in action and knew that if he got before Helion, he’d get far more than any of them ever intended to offer.

And Arina knew there could be no question about her loyalty. He’d worm his way past their defenses and Eris might accidentally let slip that she was difficult. That he’d gotten nowhere with her. She could hear her father saying the same—Arina was a hard child to love, too wild, too loud. 

She could still hear her uncle's voice. Let me take her off your hands. 

Maybe Eris wouldn’t agree at first. Maybe he’d say no, determined to make his marriage work. Like there were ten other ladies at court that wouldn’t have jumped at the chance to warm his bed. To have his ear, his attention, his time. All he had to do was hand her back, give up the little piece of territory he’d acquired but didn’t have any interest in.

After all, Elain had given his family the cure for Ironbark Flu. Arina imagined no matter what happened, Elain would agree to stay behind, to take care of these people, to make her marriage work. She was a princess, now–why would she ever want to go back to being what she’d been before?

“What are you thinking?” Eris interrupted her thoughts, cupping her face in his hands. “I’ve seen this look before.”

Arina opened her mouth to tell him he hadn’t seen anything, but all that came out was a gasping breath of air, and a choked, “I’m difficult.”

“So am I,” he agreed, swiping his thumb over her lips. “What’s your point?”

“Don’t let him come here,” she said, willing to beg. “Eris, I’ll do anything—”

“As much I would love to see just how far you’re willing to go,” he murmured, lowering his mouth for a kiss to her forehead. “I had no say in his invitation.”

“Please.”

“What are you afraid of?” he demanded, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me, Arina.”

“He’s just…” she was shaking. Arina could hear her teeth rattling in her head. She didn’t want Eris to see her like this. He could see her sick, could see her exhausted and worn down, but he couldn’t see her scared. 

She pulled from his grasp, intending to take off, but Eris was far too fast. He caught her around the waist, spinning her back into his chest for a bruising, passionate kiss. She clung to him, hoping that this was the end of the conversation. That Eris would finish what he’d started when he’d come prowling, and that she’d just let him. He was ruthless in his pursuit, his teeth sharp and his tongue demanding. She almost forgot they were still in the hall, that anyone walking past could see the heir apparent kissing his wife senseless. 

“Tell me,” he whispered, breaking the kiss to look at her.

“He has a way about him,” Arina replied before she thought better about it. “He’s convincing, he’ll—”

Eris kissed her again, pressing her against the ledge until he’d seated her upon it and was standing between her spread legs. She didn’t care, for a wild moment, who was watching or what they’d say. They were married, weren’t they? It was expected, in some form or fashion, that they’d want each other. 

And gods, but she wanted him. She might have undone those golden buttons right there had he not, once again, pulled back. 

“Trust me,” he murmured, kissing her again. Arina wanted to. She wanted to give this problem to him and forget it entirely. Arina believed, deep in her soul, that Eris thought himself entirely capable of handling her uncle. 

And Arina had watched so many other men fold under his charm, his promises, his easy wit, and the way he could look at a person and know every insecurity that plagued them. Eris would go into that meeting with good intentions, and it was wholly possible he walked out resentful and tired of how much work she was. 

Men were allowed to be difficult—women had never been allowed such a luxury. 

“Will you come to bed tonight?” he asked her, pulling Arina from the new bent in her thoughts. “Will you allow me the pleasure of your company?”

“Of course,” she agreed, offering him a tentative smile. The placating gesture and the promise that she’d let him touch her later that night worked. Eris stepped back, adjusting himself quickly so no one would see the bulge straining between his thighs. 

“Behave yourself,” he warned, perhaps guessing some of her thoughts. 

“I thought you liked when I was difficult. Maybe if I put on the orange swim attire—”

“Do so at your own peril, wife,” Eris growled, eyes flashing. “I can see you in the pool from my office.”

“Creep,” Arina joked, hopping from the window ledge to press a kiss to his cheek. “I will try and bend over once for you.”

“Good girl,” Eris said, fingers under her chin so he could turn her for one last kiss. “Remind me to show you the beach.”

“Where anyone could see me naked?” she asked.

Eris offered her an easy smile. “A good point.” And with that, Eris went back to whatever tasks he’d planned for the day. It wasn’t lost on her that he’d allowed himself fifteen minutes, hardly enough time to do anything but bury his head up her skirts. A wave of affection stole through her, almost stopping her on her way to Elain’s bedroom.

Maybe she ought to just try and explain herself better. Tell him about her life before him.

But Eris was a royal man. Care for her, he might—and their type too often stuck together. No. She would have to arrange this outside of him. 

On her way, Arina found Vassa clearly making her way toward the pool, if the cerulean silk robe wrapped around her body.

“With me,” Arina said, settling every so slightly when Vassa laced her fingers through Arina’s.

“Are you feeling better?” Vassa asked, blue eyes bright. There was a warmth to her golden skin that Arina didn’t think came from the sun.

“I am,” she said with a steady breath.

“Really? Because you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Arina had no rebuttal to that, and so she remained silent, squeezing Vassa’s hand for strength. They found Elain with her hair wet, sitting in a pale green dress at her vanity, carefully combing through her curls. There was a rather lovely ring perched on one finger—proof things were going well between her and Lucien.

Arina swallowed and Elain turned, beaming with the same warm, inner light Vassa was radiating. 

“Is something wrong?” Elain asked, rising to her feet. Arina took one last look at the ring, pleased to know she’d been right. Elain would stay.

And so would she.

“My uncle is coming,” she told them, finally pulling herself from Vassa’s grasp. She let them see what Eris had seen, well aware it carried more weight. “He wants me back.”

“Eris said no,” Elain said, stating the words as though they were fact. 

“Arina, you only have to have eyes to know how infatuated he is with you. I think he might love you.” She shook that off. There was no way Arina could focus on her next words if she let herself imagine Eris in love. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she lied, because of course it did. “He’s coming. I know him. He’ll leave with everything he asks for, one way or the other.”

“What are you suggesting?” Elain asked. Elain, who’d taken a knife to a stronger opponent and slashed it over his face without fear. She’d understand. 

“We don’t let him leave with anything,” Arina whispered, eyes bouncing between the grim expression on Vassa’s face and the dawning realization on Elain’s.

“Arina—”

“We have to kill him.”

[ninapi]

New to this (Akaashi version)

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Word Count: 4528

Note: This is a bonus chapter for my ¨New to this (Akaashi Version)¨ series, you can read it on its own, but it would make more sense if you read the rest (link here).

Bonus chapter: Our very first Valentines

Akaashi always hated Valentines day. Back in school lots of girls would try to convey their feelings towards him and he would always have to reject them as he didn’t even know who they were. The concept always feeling foreign to him.

On the contrary he had Bokuto who thoroughly enjoyed all the attention he got and the mountains of chocolate boxes littering his desk. He was just as popular with the girls but their approach was very different.

This is the first time in his life that he is slightly nervous about the holiday. Was he supposed to do something? He knows in school, girls are the ones in charge of the activities, but what happens when you indeed have a girlfriend? He feels he has to do something but isn’t entirely sure, so he decides to call for help. 

“Bokuto-san, I saw you are here in Tokyo this week, I was wondering if you have practice this afternoon? If you have time, maybe we could go to that burger chain you seem to enjoy and chat for a bit? I have something I would like to hear your opinion on.” Saying Bokuto was over the moon is an understatement, Akaashi needed HIS help? For what? What could this possibly be about. “I always have time for my AKAASHI! How about we meet for lunch? I do have practice but it isn´t until later on the afternoon.” Bokuto is holding his phone with both hands, a little too tight, trying not to sound clingy. Truth is, he loves his team but he dearly misses Akaashi, not only was he a great setter, the best if that was up to him, but he considered him his friend, his confident, he knew Akaashi would bail him out of jail if necessary, always the best partner. “Yeah, that works. See you around noon then. I´ll text you when I get there.”

When Akaashi arrived at the fast food place, Bokuto was already waiting for him in his preferred table, he wasn't lying when he said he liked this place, he even had a point card for discounts and everyone working there knew which table he liked to sit at and what he would normally order is.

While Bokuto ordered five cheese burgers and a milk shake, Akaashi only ordered a sprite and some fries to munch on while discussing his problems with his friend.

“So you said you needed my help?” Bokuto puffs his chest out proudly, waiting to be of assistance to his troubled ex-partner. “Yeah, you are the most experienced person I know in the subject, I couldn’t think of anyone else.” mumbles Akaashi while sipping on his drink. “I…well you know I have a girlfriend now, right?” Bokuto nods to this, never thought he would need love advise from him, best day ever!

“So, I don’t know how Valentines works for like couples. I read some posts online saying I should take her on a date or something, but isn’t Valentines day for girls to give stuff out to boys and confess their feelings? Do I have to do something for her now that we are official? Or does white day applies for couples too and that’s when I should give her something?” Akaashi’s cheeks tinting a soft rosy color as he speaks, he wishes he didn’t have so many questions but he really loves you and wants you to feel loved.

“Ugh, sorry to disappoint you but my valentines day experience stops in high school. I do get chocolates and gifts from my fans, but I haven’t been in a relationship long enough to ever have the need to worry about that. I would say though, how about you play it safe? Just take her on a date that day, treat her nicer than usual, make her feel special. That should do it.” he says in between burger bites. Who would have thought he could get real advise from Bokuto in anything non volleyball related. He hates he had to do this, but he is glad he has someone he could trust and isn’t laughing on his face for his lack of experience. “Ok, yeah you're right. (Y/N) isn’t the type to have high expectations on things, she probably isn’t even hoping to get anything.” he was in fact right, just having some time to spend with him would be more than enough for you.

“Then you should take this opportunity to surprise her, make it even more special!” that actually makes sense, but what could he do to surprise you? You’ve been together for a while now but you never really voice out things you’d like to do. Whenever you want to do something you’d do it right away and whenever you wanted something you would just get it yourself. A date night would be nice, nothing too fancy, just a night out for the both of you to be alone together, sounds like a good idea.

Bokuto keeps on inhaling his burgers, leaving Akaashi to his thoughts, he knows he is probably figuring out what to do inside that head of his. “I have a problem though, we have kids. How can I take her out on a date if we have two toddlers in the house.” he could call in a babysitter, but sitters are in high demand for Valentines, does he even have enough time for this. “ I can take care of them. Believe it or not, I have no plans for this year and is not often that my best friend needs my help. I can go over and we can play a board game, maybe watch a movie and order some pizza. Just go have fun with your girl.” he gives him two thumbs up and a bright smile and once again Akaashi is just grateful for having him; something he would keep to himself.

After finishing their lunch they both headed separate ways, Akaashi back to work and Bokuto went to practice.

He was a bit worried about leaving two children with Bokuto, but Seiji was there, he would make sure Bokuto doesn’t set the house on fire.

The preparations for his surprise outing were running smoothly. He thought a moon viewing picnic would be nice, majority of couples will be doing typical things like going to the movies or fancy dinners, so he looked for a nice quiet place to bring you to. He found a promising looking river not too far from their house, not many people should be there as it wasn’t a popular destination. 

February is still pretty cold, so he thought about making a small fire and bring some sausages and ingredients for s’mores. 

This was the second time he scratched his original plan, the moon viewing picnic turned into a semi-camping experience. He found out there were camping grounds near said river and he could even rent a large tent from them. That was perfect. Exactly what he wanted. 

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Valentines day was finally here and you sneaked out of bed around three in the morning to finish the chocolates for your man.

You’ve been practicing all week and were finally satisfied with how they turned out.

You even bought heart shaped trays and colored chocolate pens to decorate the treats. The wrapping was also beautiful. Akaashi isn’t a guy for big pink hearts and glittery ribbons, so you got a golden box and used a black ribbon to close it, topping it with a hand written note. You stuffed the box carefully in his work bag and went back to bed before he could notice your absence.

That morning both of you opted for the same plan, feign ignorance. Both ignored completely the fact that today was even a special day, hoping to surprise each other.

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

It was lunch time and Akaashi grabbed his bag and walked over to the cafeteria on the second floor of his work building to enjoy his homemade bento made by the woman he loves.

He left his bag on a bench while heading over to a nearby vending machine for a bottle of green tea, when a co-worker tapped his shoulder, getting his attention. “Something fell out of your bag, man. Looked shinny.” the man wiggled his eyebrows at Akaashi suggestively before heading back to his office.

Something shinny? That’s weird, he only keeps his bento and chopsticks in that bag.

He spots the shinny object under the bench, quickly lifting it from the ground for further inspection. The box had a little envelope tucked to the side of the wrapping so he decided to take a peek. It probably wasn’t his so he wanted to know who he should return it to.

To his surprise, he could immediately recognize your handwriting, “Happy Valentines day, my love. Hope you have a nice day at work! –Love, (Y/N).” his brain stopped functioning. He knows this is normal, but he was so focused on the date plans that he didn’t even expect to get something. He opens the box and looks at the assortment of chocolates presented to him. They were all different. Some had intricate patterns in what looked like edible glitter. Some had caramel filling. Some were even made out of white and pink chocolate. Not even one of them was the same as other. He could see your dedication just with a glance and his heart grew three sizes right there. Some of his female co-workers stopped to look at the chocolate display feeling envious, not only of the fact that he was taken but they actually wanted to try the delicious looking treats. Of course, he would not allow this, those chocolates were his, made with love, all his, just like you.

He sent you a text thanking you for the chocolates and attached a selfie with a pink heart chocolate over his lips, he still isn’t fond of that kind of interaction but he knows you go crazy when he does that sort of thing. And you did, immediately setting it as your Lock Screen.

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Bokuto was so eager that he ended up arriving at your place even before Akaashi, and you were confused to say the least. You know who he is, not only did Akaashi go to school with him, he was currently Atsumu’s teammate, but you’ve never been properly introduced before nor did Akaashi mention anything about him coming to your house today.

“OH GOD are you AKAASHI’S girlfriend? You are even prettier than I imagined!! So this is what it takes to break guys like him and Tsumtsum. Well I would break too, you are gorgeous!” he embraced you tightly, making you blush in confusion. He was so touchy.

“That’s me, yes. You can call me, (Y/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard lots about you.” you smiled up at him from his deathly squeeze and he can only hope they are all just good things.

Akaashi comes to your rescue, startled at the scene unfolding before his eyes. ¨Bokuto-san can you please unhand my girlfriend.” he jumps at the sound of Akaashi’s voice, unlatching himself from you. “Did he do anything crazy to you, (Y/N)? I’m sorry, I didn’t think he would come so early.” you shook your head, walking over to him and kissing his cheek, “Welcome home, and no, he didn’t do anything crazy. He seems to be just very affectionate. I like that.” you beamed over to Bokuto and he could swear he is in the presence of an angel right now. How can you be so perfect? You didn’t even mind his skinship, that was new for him. It makes sense though, Akaashi deserves nothing less than perfection. “But why is he here on Valentines day? Shouldn’t you be in a date or something, Bokuto-san? If I would have known you were coming I would have a nicer dinner prepared.” You start making your way towards the kitchen but are suddenly stopped by both men, each grabbing one of your wrists. “No, no, no, don’t worry about me, (Y/N)-chan, I came here for my valentines date! You don’t have to do anything.” he should change his name to ‘Confusing Koutarou’, what did he even mean? thankfully you have Akaashi as interpreter, “He is here to cover for us. Finding a babysitter is very hard for this type of events so he offered himself to take care of the kids for tonight.” you gasped at this. Why did you need a babysitter? Reading your mind, Akaashi continues, “I’m taking you out. Let me get changed real quick so we can leave.” you are going out? What? Where? What should you wear? He really is in sync with you and is coming out a lot today, “You don’t have to change, you look perfect as you are right now. We aren´t going anywhere fancy so just make sure to grab a warm coat.” you nodded to this, heading over to the kitchen and bringing Bokuto with you by the hand. “I made dinner already, everything’s here, you can eat it all if you like. The kids already finished homework so there’s nothing much to do, they know what they need to do when is bed time, which by the way is 8PM, please don’t let them stay up late otherwise they won’t wake up in time for school tomorrow.” Bokuto nods, his face lighting up at the sight of the home cooked meal, he was ready to treat the kids to the largest pizza available for delivery, but this was so much better, is not every day he had the chance to have a meal like this. You noticed his phone peeking out of his back pocket, so you grabbed it and quickly added your contact info in it, making Bokuto gasp loudly, his chastity has been compromised and you didn’t even blink. “There. Keiji doesn’t answer his phone as quickly as he should, so please contact me if something happens.” you smile at him and take him over to the living room, telling him to get comfortable while you go call the kids.

Seiji still remembers him from the day they ate ice cream together so he jumps on him, making him chuckle, “Uncle Bokuto!!”, he tickles Seiji’s sides making him laugh and Bokuto has never been happier, is this what having a family feels like? Home cooked meals, warm hugs and cute baby giggles. Maybe he should get one.

Kimi doesn’t remember him but since Seiji does, she trusts him.

Once Akaashi is ready to leave, he lets your kids know you will be back late so to please listen to uncle Bokuto while you guys come back and they both agree, excitedly waiting for Bokuto to pull out the board games he brought to entertain them.

It warms your heart knowing there’s someone else you can trust your kids and Akaashi to.

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The place you were being taken to wasn’t far but way up in a mountain, you’ve never been there before and you are stunned by the view. It was such a pretty place and completely empty, no one had decided to go there to celebrate the holiday, a shame really, it was breathtaking.

Akaashi grabs your waist gently, pulling you in for a back hug while enjoying the high quality of the air and the view with you. This already was the perfect valentines day. But it was far from over.

Akaashi needed to get the fire started before natural light was completely gone so he let you stay there to enjoy the beautiful sunset while he worked on it.

You’ve never seen such a majestic sunset before, the sky looked just like a watercolor painting. Pink and orange tones blending in together with the purples of the coming darkness; the chilled air causing your cheeks to turn rosy while it danced among the trees.

Once the sun was down you went looking for your man, quickly finding him crouching over some wood, but your breath was taken once more by the display behind him. 

A large tent, more like a canopy was set up already, fairy lights hanging from the top and cushions littering the floor underneath. It was a beautiful secluded little paradise made just for the two of you.

The fire was now alive and Akaashi took your hand, guiding you over to the pillows and sitting there with you, bringing you closer so you would sit in between his legs. He was littering the back of your neck with pecks while you played with his fingers, the widest smile covering your face. 

You love this man.

“When did you prepare all this? Looks like it could have taken a long time to set up.” you look around, still mesmerized by the cozy space he created for you. “I rented the tent from the owner of the campsite, the rest well I kinda tricked my boss and got out of work a few hours early today to get it ready on time.” he really is the best boyfriend, you knew this already but it surprises you every time.

“Do you like it?” he mumbles against your skin, your neck now full of red little marks. “I love it, Keiji. Thank you.” you let your head fall onto his shoulder, giving him more access to your skin and you silently curse at the tent for being so exposed.

The air around you both was getting hotter as time went by and you were sure it had nothing to do with the bonfire, Akaashi noticing this decides to pull out the food, leaving your slightly disheveled self to regain some well deserved air.

“I got us some sausages and stuff to make s’mores. Should we eat some?” you haven’t had s’mores since you were a kid, excitement of a very different kind now filling your chest. “God, Keiji. You really know your way up to a woman’s heart. Should I be concerned?” you chuckle and he pulls you closer to the fire, preparing the treats for you to indulge. “Nah, I don’t really care about other women, your heart is the only one I need to be in.” he didn’t even hesitate and you are pretty sure that your heart skipped more than one beat at his reply.

Getting the s’mores ready was more of a challenge than you thought it would be, Akaashi being unable to keep his hands to himself for long, “Keiji, we are never going to eat them if we don’t focus.” you giggle as he is currently very occupied figuring out the front buttons of the dress you are wearing. “You gotta stop being so cute if you want me to focus.” It’s all he says and you don’t complain.

The night goes on like that, eating some sausages, chatting about everything and then some, of course more kisses and wandering hands, choosing a remote place being the best idea he ever had in his life.

You go back home around two in the morning, immediately noticing a snoring giant sleeping on the sofa, both of your kids sleeping on him, Seiji sprawled face down on his chest and Kimi hugging one of his legs.

This really makes it difficult to top next year, today has already been the best Valentines day you both could ever wish for.

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Happy Valentines day, my lovely readers .

︶︶ ꒱ ﹀↷♡ ꒱..°

Original Story Masterlist

[lift-for-dead]

repοst

*If you don’t have a stamp, reverse your destination and return addresses. The post office will deliver it to the return address for free

*One bag of garbage from a McDonald’s dumpster has hundreds of receipts in it, each of which has a survey. Submit each one for lots of free food

*Holding a cell phone to your ear justifies lοitering. This aids in public urinαtion, dυmpster diving, trespαssing, etc

*If you’re going to plαgiarize, plαgiarize something in a foreign language. Use a translator and spend a few minutes touching up the results.

*If they have free refills, save your cup. Next time you eat there, your drink is free.

*A plastic coffee stir stick can fool any push in coin acceptor that loads the coins on edge. Just insert stir stick, push the mechanism forward until you feel the stick hit a bump, push the bump down with the stick and push the mech all the way in

*If you look like you know what you’re doing, no one will bother you.

*When l��ing, always include something slightly embarrassing, or something that makes you look bad, as part of your story. It’s not only going to disarm their skepticism (admitting to something embarrassing gives an impression of humility), but even if they remain skeptical, they’ll be left wondering why you would make something up that you’d rather keep secret if it were true

*Using Clorox or any bleach will turn the red/pink liquid detection dot on electronic devices back to white so they replace them under warranty

* “A drυg deαler in DC taught me to pick my nose if the police are staring at me. No one picks their nose if they think someone is watching them, so it’s the ultimate way of being nonchalant.”

* "I learned that you can get into almost any special event by wearing a chef coat. Even just carrying one and walking like you know where you’re going will work every time. Most people don’t want to look stupid by asking you who you are.“ (I've done this one. I'm actually a chef so it's great.)

* "My go to missing work call was never “I’m sick”, it was “Family problems”. They never questioned it, it’s vague enough and embarrassing enough that nobody ever asks.“ 

*As part of the employee training at Tαrget, they teach you that if a customer argues over a price, and the full price is under $20, to just give it to them for whatever price they claim. It’s cheaper for the company to move on to the next customer than to call in a price check.

*Put a rolled up sock in the change slot on a vending machine, come back back 4 days later….and pull sock….you will be 6-ish dollars richer.

*If it’s a small lie, like who farted or who put the empty milk carton in the fridge, I’ll tell a terrible lie. I’ll not be able to hold a straight face, contradict myself, basically suck at lying. Now everyone I know thinks I can’t tell a lie to save my life, So when I really need a big lie, I nail it every time. No one ever suspects me when I lie straight faced.

*Bring crutches to an airport. Bypass every line (including boarding) and you are chauffeured to your gate the second you pass through security. (idk abt this one)

*Make up a secret to share with someone- they may open up and share far more valuable real secrets.

*Here’s a classic. Drive over to your 7/11 of choice. Fill up a Slurpee and drop some candy bars in that bitch. Make sure the candy bars aren’t showing. Cover the Slurpee and pay for it. Free Snickers bitch.

*I tell everyone i’ve never done any drυgs. Suddenly everyone offers me cοcaine, ecstαsy, pοt, lsd. I think i’ve had $200 worth of drυgs each weekend for free. Same with liquοr. “I'm not drinking tonight” BOOM! Everyone gives me bοοze. Its like everyone wants to break your integrity as soon as you tell them you are not doing whatever they are doing.

*If you need to cash from an ATM and its not a large amount, buy a 5 cent piece of gum from a gas station that has the cash back option. Its cheaper than a $3 charge

*Act less intelligent than you really are. Acting stupid can get you out of some tricky situations. Feigning ignorance is way better than admitting you knew better but did it anyway. My old man used to say ‘It is easier to beg forgiveness than ask for permission’…sometimes it’s true.

*Every time I fly, when I land I’ll pen a little complaint to the airline that flew me. You know, I’ll come up with something like “oh, they denied me a drink! Oh, the food wasn’t vegetarian!” Whatever miscellaneous hogwash potpourri comes to my crazy brain. Like clockwork, within a business day, they’re reimbursing me with a $50 voucher, a $100 voucher, I can sell that on the secondary market.

*I’ve always had a lot of success in shutting nosy people up by blaming any personal issue on allergies. Crying from a panic attack? Allergies giving me puffy eyes. What’s that mysterious pill I’m taking? Allergy meds. Why am I acting spaced out/hungover/tired? Allergies meds making me drowsy.

*If you really wanna get away with some shit, buy a reflective vest, a white hard hat, and a clipboard. You can go ANYWHERE.