#sharing this mostly because the thought occurred while at work

[fictionadventurer]

Doris Kearns Goodwin wrote books about Abraham Lincoln and Theodore Roosevelt.

The Lincoln book is about how he was able to work with people from vastly different political backgrounds and turn at least some of them from rivals to good friends.

The Roosevelt book is about how he let differences in politics tear apart one of his closest and most enduring friendships.

That vastly oversimplifies both men (and I haven't actually read the Roosevelt book for further context) but the premises seem to highlight the key difference between their leadership styles and personalities.

[almightyellie]

i'm not in love

in which angus always preferred being alone. at least, he used to.

pairing is angus tully x fem!reader

word count is 3.4k

author says don't look at me <3 not proofread bc it's me

you should watch out for college-aged angus, mostly just two besties who are so in love it makes them stupid

title song is i'm not in love // 10cc

angus tully answers his mother’s biweekly calls diligently. not because either of them truly want to speak to each other—it’s more perfunctory than anything. she calls and asks about school, and he tells her it’s good. then he asks about stanley, and she tells him about stanley’s job, and then she’ll ask angus about his job. he tells her it’s fine, and she offers him money that he’ll accept only if he’s in a particularly foul mood. after three years, they almost have it down to a perfect script. 

at least, he thought they did. 

“how’s y/n?”

the question catches him so off-guard that his sharp intake of breath makes him choke, but judy waits patiently for an answer. he mentioned you every once in a while. mostly, he likes that you’re an entirely separate part of his life from his mother and stanley. he’ll bring you up if she asks why he isn’t coming home on a holiday, or on the off-chance she asks about his weekend plans. yours is one of the only names he’s ever given her when he talks about school, and one of the only ones that seems to stick around longer than a few months at a time. “she’s…good,” he responds tentatively.

“what are you guys doing tonight?”

he stares at his phone in bemusement. “what is this?”

she sighs, and he can almost see that displeased look on her face. he had it memorized. “when are we going to meet her?”

“why do you want to meet her?” he asks. if he really thinks about it, it makes sense. you two had lived across from one another for three years, and you had fallen together in a way that almost felt predetermined. you are the longest standing person in his life post-high school, and his mother knows this.

he had always preferred being alone. even as a child, he had no interest in playing with the neighborhood kids in the middle of the street. he liked doing things by himself. he liked doing what he wanted without having to inform anyone else. when he had gone to college and found a semi-affordable apartment that he wouldn’t have to share, he had been elated. the cute girl across the hall had just been a plus. 

you two had always just worked. he holds everyone at arm's length, but it had never even occurred to him to shut you out. you two end up together most nights, watching movies or doing homework. it happens so easily that he hardly recognizes how strange it is. perpetual wallflower angus tully is attached.

“well, you two have been together for a while. if things are serious, i think it’s best that we meet her.”

angus blinks, shocked, before a nervous laugh bubbles up in his chest. it starts low, but the longer she waits in her own confused silence, the louder and more unruly his laughter becomes. he’s laughing—not because the idea is ridiculous, but because it’s so plausible that it takes him by surprise. he had spent the last two years trying to bury his feelings for you, and he had been so unsuccessful that even his mother had picked up on it.

“angus,” she snaps, and he giggles, even though it isn’t funny, even though his stomach twists and rolls in a way that makes him feel sick.

“i’m sorry,” he gasps, covering his eyes. “just…we—y/n and i aren’t together.”

there’s a long moment of silence where he catches his breath before his mom says, “angus, that’s not funny.”

“well, it is, if you think about it really hard,” he offers. she sighs, exasperated, and angus rubs his eyes. he can’t possibly explain to his mother what about this situation is truly amusing, because really, it isn’t funny. it’s not funny that he’s desperately in love with his best friend, and it’s not funny that she oscillates between entirely oblivious and seemingly aware. 

“you’re telling me you’ve been missing family holidays for a girl you aren’t dating?” 

he can tell she doesn’t believe him, and he doesn’t bother reminding her that they haven’t had a real family holiday in years. long before he started university, and long before he met you. besides, answering that question honestly is dangerous, and should he not handle this delicately, he’ll find himself on the wrong side of his mother’s wrath.

“uh…”

he’s fumbling, panicking, and it only gets worse when he hears his front door open. “angus?” you call, and his whole body cringes, his head falling to rest on the wall.

“angus,” judy warns.

“yeah,” he blurts, watching you round the corner. you smile, offering only a small wave as you drop your bag onto his kitchen table. “no, mom, obviously not. that would be ridiculous.”

as he feels her anxiety cease, his own skyrockets. he’s focused entirely on you; your back is turned toward him as you open his fridge, searching through the shelves for something to eat. if it were anyone else, he’d be irritated, but he almost loves it when you do it. loves that you feel comfortable enough in his home to make yourself feel at home, that he can take care of you in the smallest way. most nights, when he lies in bed and thinks of you, he finds himself thinking of the ways he could take care of you. the ways he could give you what he never had, the things that had been ripped from him. security. unconditional affection. peace. he’s barely listening when his mother sighs again. “you know, i don’t understand your humor sometimes.”

“i know,” he says. you kick the fridge closed, enough food in your hands to feed both of you. “hey, she actually just got here. can i let you go?”

“not until you answer my question.” her voice is clipped now, and angus winces. some nights she’s a little more forgiving with his distraction, a little more responsive to the things he says that she doesn’t necessarily understand. tonight, he’s more distracted than usual and less decipherable than ever. “when can we meet her?”

angus groans, and you smile over your shoulder. you know better than anyone how much he struggles with his mother. you’ve listened in on many of their phone calls, and patiently listened to him complain about them later. “i don’t know, mom.”

“how about easter?” she asks. angus turns to lean against the wall and watch you, and you lean against the counter, waiting for him to be done. he rolls his eyes, a silent cue that things are taking longer than he’d like. “stanley and i can drive up that saturday and take you guys out for a nice dinner. on us.”

reluctantly, only because he knows that she’ll blow a gasket if they don’t nail down plans on this phone call, and because he wants this to be over, he huffs. he pulls the receiver away slightly and asks, “you want to have dinner with my mom and stanley easter weekend?”

you blink owlishly. “what? why?”

“they want to meet you.”

“why?” you insist. he glares at you impatiently; knowing angus—more, knowing what you know about his mother—an answer is needed now, and explanation must come later. the idea of meeting his mom makes your stomach turn uncomfortably, but there he stands. even with a hard glare, you feel safe with him. you feel the need to do what he asks of you, and you know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t ask if he thought it would be something you couldn’t handle. “uh…i guess, yeah.”

he offers a grateful smile. “easter weekend sounds great, mom.”

they quickly finalize plans before hanging up, and the second the receiver is back on hook, he groans loudly, rubbing his eyes. you wait for him to speak, but he stands with his hands over his eyes, hiding from you. “angus.”

“she thinks you’re my girlfriend,” he blurts.

you really don’t mean to start laughing. “what?”

his lips turn up in a sheepish smile. “i guess they’ve thought we were together this entire time,” he chuckles. “and i panicked! she accused me missing holidays to spend time with you and i didn’t want to get in trouble—”

you clutch your stomach, doubled over in laughter. he doesn’t want to laugh—frankly, he’s a little hurt that you find the idea so laughable, but he had laughed, too. “you caved,” you gasp. “you caved and told a lie because you didn’t want to get in trouble with your mommy.”

“okay.” he rolls his eyes. “whatever. you’re part of this now, too.”

your giggles die down and you turn to take the food out of the microwave. “hey, i could back out. i could break up with you at any time.”

he scoffs, but doesn’t respond. often enough, when you’re doing exactly what you’re doing now, angus’ feelings become overwhelming. watching you move around his kitchen with the kind of natural domesticity makes him feel choked, buried under his overflowing affection.

the harder he fights his feelings, the worse they get. you’re his best friend—it’s not on purpose, either; you aren’t at all the kind of person he ever thought he would fall for. you were bitingly funny, of course, but you fought him constantly. he wouldn’t even say you were particularly nice for the first few months you two knew one another. you’re entirely out of left field, and he can’t even get a read on you half the time—not that he even really wants to. part of him thinks that knowing exactly what you think about him would be truly crushing.

“i guess a free meal could be nice,” you tease, stirring your dinner with a knowing smile.

“yeah, you’re so unused to those,” he bites, pushing himself off the wall. you beam.

it’s surprising, in a way, that you hadn’t met angus’ mom and stepfather already. he’s met your family a thousand times over; they take you both out to dinner every single time they visit you. they had sent him a birthday gift this year, for christ’s sake. but you could probably count the amount of time angus had seen his mother in the last three years on both hands. you were surprised enough that she even remembered your name.

you had spent your entire friendship with angus thinking about his mother. being angry with her. your best friend is caring, in his own stilted, modest way. he’s witty and so smart that it intimidates you, and he’s loyal. it tells you all you need to know that his relationship with his mother isn’t strong. 

he bumps you out of the way, and you let him. you watch him open the cupboard for plates to evenly split the leftover pasta, and your chest nearly heaves with confused affection. you see the way he looks at you when he’s not careful. with an unrestrained reverence, with a tenderness that can’t be forced. it had made you uncomfortable, at first. made you feel like you couldn’t be around him anymore. you had tried to pull away—for a day or two. 

the reality of the entire situation is that angus tully belongs in your life. you adore him too much to cut him out, and even if you didn’t, it kills you to think of him alone. he’s a lone wolf; it’s amazing enough that you two have connected the way that you have. if angus didn’t have you, he had a few friends from class. maybe two or three guys from work. but nothing as deep, nothing as serendipitous as your friendship. 

discomfort with his feelings had grown into a tentative acceptance once you realized he had no plans on acting on them, and after a few months, tentative acceptance had grown into…something else entirely. you aren’t sure exactly what it is. it isn’t like those juvenile, giddy crushes you had harbored in high school. angus doesn’t keep you up at night, nor does he make you lovesick. he puts you at ease. he makes you feel safe. he makes you feel like yourself.

you don’t want to confront the strange sense of peace that angus has offered you without even knowing. without even trying. you don’t want to change your friendship, or misattribute your feelings, so you ignore them. and you ignore the way he looks at you, and how he insists on making your favorite dinners, even though he complains about you eating his leftovers, and how he uses your spare key to lock your door every single time he leaves your apartment without fail. 

your knees bump together under the tiny table in his kitchen as you two eat dinner. you listen to him talk about his coworkers, lulled into relaxation by his deep voice; you always loved your dinnertime conversations. mostly, one of you just talked. you would talk about school and work and your classmates and your days; they aren’t even really conversations. it’s just an excuse to talk and an opportunity to listen. he doesn’t mind when you don’t respond, and neither of you care if the other person talks the entire time. it’s time spent together more than anything else. you think about how effortless it feels. how you could do this every night with intention, not under the guise of getting out of your apartment. you think about the dinner with his mom, and how you’ll both put on nice outfits to go out, and how you’ll come home together, and how you’ll dissect every detail of the dinner and the conversations for the entire night, if not for days afterwards.

you notice only a moment too late that you’ve zoned out, and angus kicks your shin gently. “you good?”

with a reassuring smile, you nod. “yeah. i’m just thinking about dinner with your mom.”

he’s bashful when he laughs quietly. “yeah…sorry. i know i kind of screwed you over.” you can tell that he truly does feel bad, but the longer you think about it, the less you dread it. you think you might actually like an excuse to acknowledge the way angus looks at you, for him to not have to hide it. 

“i don’t know…i’m kind of excited,” you admit, pushing food around your plate. angus looks at you from under his lashes, taking pause at your tone. you refuse to look at him, and it sends his heart into overdrive; he’s panicked, certainly, and so in love with you that it makes him nauseous. he isn’t entirely sure that he’ll survive a night of you pretending. of it all feeling so real.

he can feel a confession coming, bubbling up in his chest, and he swallows in panic. “she’s—she’ll like you, i think.”

with a slight smile, you push your plate away from you. “i’m not sure i’ll like her.”

which he loves about you, naturally. 

he clears his throat to bury the confession and stands; angus grabs both plates and turns his back to you to hide his flushed cheeks. shamelessly, since he can’t see you, you watch him, soothed simply by the way he moves. by how familiar he is. by how you can almost predict every move he makes. the words fall out before you’re even cognizant of them

“just so you know, i don’t mind your mom thinking i’m your girlfriend.”

the way he freezes makes your shoulders tense. you hadn’t meant to say that. it was true, but he didn’t need to know that. angus’ mind screeches to a full stop before it starts running ten times faster than before. what did that mean?

slowly—so slowly that you almost don’t notice—he sets the plates in the sink. you won’t get out of this. you know you won’t, because you know angus. once the door is open, he’ll take the opportunity to push it every single time. “why?” he asks, his voice a carefully constructed tone of ease. he plays it well; his nonchalance is almost perfectly natural. it nearly tricks you.

still kicking yourself, you shrug even though he can’t see you. instead, you start emptying your bag to distract yourself. textbooks and notebooks and pencils clatter against the table. “just…we could sell it, don’t you think?” it’s not even close to what he wants to hear, and you buckle down even though you know you won’t win this one. “we know everything about each other.”

he snorts, and it puts you at ease. not because you’re going to get out of this. you know something dangerous is going to come out of this conversation, but because it’s angus. it’s your best friend. and you know him, and you know the way he treats you is symptomatic of something much larger. it used to scare you, but it doesn’t now. not now that he washes your dishes, the sleeves of his sweater pushed up to his elbows. you trust him. you know that any vulnerability you share will be returned to you tenfold.

“yeah, right. that just makes it convenient,” he says knowingly, head tilting. he watches you sort through your textbooks, hiding your anxiety while you busy yourself.

part of you hopes that he’ll just drop it. not because you don’t think things will work out, but because you love how things are between the two of you. the almosts, the what-ifs, the wondering is something you so love to savor. it’s still so easy between you two; all of those what-ifs still exist only in your minds, only in the silent space between you that neither of you are willing to acknowledge. there’s plausible deniability. there’s safety.

you smile shakily, glancing up at him. “i guess i mean…that we…work?”

he smiles back, comforting but still audacious. “and by that, you mean…”

with a groan, you fold your arms and bury your face in them. you know this leap can only be beneficial, but you’re struggling to let yourself admit anything. it’s more frustrating than the denial. 

angus stares at you, suddenly the emotionally constipated one, and his heart is pounding in his ears. he can feel it beating against his chest; he’s not brave enough to hope. it’s too scary for him to wonder if this is finally it, if you had been as keenly aware as he had assumed you to be. 

“just…i think there’s a reason my mom thinks we’re together. just so you know.” you groan louder, unmoved by his words, and he continues, “beyond the fact that we’re constantly together.”

you peek up at him, your chin still pressed against your forearms. he watches you, big brown eyes wide open with vulnerability. he’s waiting. you figure it’s as good of a segue as he’s going to give you. with a deep breath, ignoring the turning and rolling of your stomach, you say, “i feel like…things could be like that between us.”

he breaks into a smile so wide that you have to look away from him. “oh, is that what this is about?” he asks facetiously. 

you grunt, irritated. “don’t tease me.”

he laughs, uncrossing his arms. you don’t even want to look at him, humiliated. he hasn’t rejected you—in fact, you know he’s just keeping you on the line to tease you. it irritates you, but he seems giddy, even if he tries to act like he’s unaffected. he can’t keep that goofy smile off his face. it entirely gives him away. “hey,” he says, voice bright. “c’mere.”

“no,” you spit, annoyed. you know that the second you give in, everything will change. for the better, you think, but it will change. you hold on to the wondering for just a moment longer, but you can’t help yourself. he waits patiently at the counter, holding on to the ledge. you like the wondering, but you think you’re ready to find out if it’s as good as it seems it would be.

self-conscious, you cross the room to him. you stand only centimeters apart, and he grins at you, fingers gently stroking the hem of your collar. “you know, right?”

you don’t have to ask what he means. you know. maybe not the depths, but you know. the way he looks at you is enough to let you know. the way he takes care of you tells you what his words haven’t yet. they will. “you can’t hide from me, angus tully.”

he loves that about you, too. he’ll tell you all the specifics later. for now, he kisses you, a long arm around your waist, and you think that this is much better than the what-ifs.

[bwat5-blog]

Why Didn't We See Cait Tell Vi About Jinx?

**Spoilers For Arcane***

There has been a tremendous amount of conversation regarding Jinx's fate in the end of the show. I think by now, most of us seem to agree she is alive. There is a significant amount of evidence. But one of the conversations I have enjoyed reading different takes on, is did Caitlyn tell Vi her suspicions? should she? and why didn't we see one way or the other? This will be fairly short compared to my usual work, I just wanted to delve into these questions, offer my thoughts, and hopefully get some good discussion out of it!

THE EVIDENCE: (In no particular order)

The Shimmer streak right as the explosion occurs

I have seen some argue that it's simply the purple inside the bomb. This is possible of course but it seems extremely directed.

2. Caitlyn's investigations

When it is all said and done, we have a quiet moment with Caitlyn investigating the cooling/vent system of the tower where Jinx died, as well has holding the mostly intact head of her monkey bomb. the implication here is quite clear. But of course it is not definitive. They are only telling us she reason to be thinking about Jinx being alive.

3. Full Circle

The second shot is the last one of the show.. if we didn't have the first shot to fall back to it would feel quite random but if you think back to that, it seems quite clear what they are implying. Additionally although I don't have a good way to share it here, the score in this moment is variation on "Dear friend across the river" which we hear Powder singing to open the whole show.

4. Glitched The End

That is the very last shot we are given and the animation is very in line with the glitch style of Jinx we have come to know so well.

5. Arcane Afterglow For Act 3

Skip to 1:19 if that is all you are here for

________________________________________________

There are others for sure. I saw someone in the community post some pages from the artbook showing things like "i'm still here" I believe it was. And I know there have been other interviews and such. This is just what I am personally aware of. And while of course I am just a regular fan and I don't know any better than any of you, this is all enough for me to feel confidant saying she's alive. I am of a similar opinion to many I have seen. I do not think Caitlyn had told Vi by the end of what we saw, but I think it's because she herself is not 100% sure yet.

Why isn't she sure?

Well even using the evidence I listed, only one out of those five points is something Caitlyn would be aware of. Now I do think she is probably fairly confidant, as the implication of her investigating at all was very clear. But keeping in mind that she knows how badly Vi wanted to save Jinx, and the enormity of the guilt Vi must feel given that Jinx had to save her (Vi was legitimately having a dissociative episode born of her PTSD and there was nothing she could do. Don't start with me Anti-Vi'ers), I think Caitlyn would be very careful to not give Vi false hope.

Would Caitlyn Even Tell Vi and Risk Her leaving?

I think so. And my reasoning is that she has done it before. When she paved the way for Vi to free Jinx, there was every possibility the sisters would vanish into the night and Caitlyn would never see them again. With that in mind, and their dynamic in general with Caitlyn probably feeling she has a tremendous amount of trust to keep rebuilding between them, I seriously doubt she would risk hiding something so large from Vi if she felt confidant Jinx was alive. Jinx wanted Vi to live free of their past and find her happiness. I think Caitlyn would honor giving Vi the choice and hope for the best. Especially taking into account the whole dynamic around Caitlyn showing Vi how much she loves and respects not only her, but her heart. She cherishes the heart that drives Vi to protect those she loves. I don't see Caitlyn betraying that by trying to control her.

Is it better for Vi to know?

This one is tough. On the one hand, we have to factor all the things we already discussed in. We know Vi wanted them to be together. We know she is probably torturing herself over her sister's perceived death. But, we also have to consider the other side. Because by the end the Sisters are family again. So why would Jinx leave and not tell Vi the truth?:

Jinx herself will never know peace in Piltover or Zaun (at least as things are now). I'm not doing a whole thing here, but in Zaun they all want her to be their symbol. And in Piltover, regardless of her heroism or the reason she did what she did, there will always be stares and whispers for her crimes. Not to mention the whole process of whatever resolving the issues of her crimes would mean in the first place. It would not only be trouble for her, but probably for Vi and Caitlyn as well. She gave Vi permission to move forward with her life, and we saw Vi take it which is a reason to be hopeful. But if I were Jinx, and I had decided to leave, I would be very aware of the possibility that Vi would feel honor bound to leave the love she had found, and turn her back on the peace Jinx tried to convince her she deserves. Because while Vi is full to the brim with wonderful qualities, her journey to believing her own self-worth is still very new. And I think Jinx wisely would be worried Vi could not let her go alone. Just as Vi has to start finding herself free of their past, Jinx needs the same. It's not that she doesn't love Vi. I think she has made it EXTREMELY CLEAR that she does. But in terms of her mental state and her arc, I think she has resolved the conflict between the shattered ghost of Powder, and Silco's terrorist daughter. she IS JINX. She is no longer A JINX. And I think to find out what that means, she has to step away from the shadows of her past and start completely over. Just as Vi has to start finding out who she is without the crushing guilt and pain of their childhood. Listen yall, I know I can be quite harsh on Jinx especially because Vi is my favorite. But let me bring you back to something I first realized in my deep-dive on the sisters relationship.

Vi is a courageous, loving, and loyal sister who would fist fight the devil himself with one hand tied behind her back for her loved ones. But she is still only a person. And as always, the brilliantly heart wrenching writing of this show tells us exactly how Jinx feels about her older sister in the opening of the show, and proves it again at the end:

Even when they were little girls on that bridge, Vi walked tall, trying to shield Powder from the horror around them. But when it became too much, when the horror, and the pain, and the loss overwhelmed her, Powder threw her small body over her big sister trying with everything in her to be that shield for Vi.... Just as she would the next time Violet needed her...

I am firmly and completely convinced she would not leave Vi like that unless she truly felt it was the right thing for both of them. She has come to far and been through too much. Agree or disagree, I think she is doing her best to be that sister Vi deserves once more. Even if its painful.

What I Hope:

My hope, is that Caitlyn shares her information with Violet when she feels she has enough to not devastate her beloved with false hope. And that hearing that, Vi will choose to honor her sister's decision, as well as see the truth that she herself deserves love, and peace, and safety, and be at peace. My hope is that in the end, Vi can see Jinx's decision was not one of neglect, or abandonment, or crisis. But just as Vi had always tried so hard to be Jinx needed, in that moment Jinx saw what they both needed, and made the hard call, to give them both the chance the world tried to steal from them.

Thank you all for reading. I know I have been a tad feisty lately and I wanted to get back to talking about what I love about this show! These characters and this story connect with us all on such deep levels because of their humanity. Their flaws, their strengths, the moments they succeed and the moments they fall short. Ultimately, we can't know if Violet will do the right thing if and when she finds out. But she and Caitlyn give me hope. I hope this has done the same for you.

Never stop standing for the stories that matter. See yall next time!

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter One: Blue Hydrangeas- Gratitude

Summary: Your job as a florist has been the highlight of your day for years. It becomes even more exciting when a certain new customer becomes a regular.

Word Count: 2286

Author's Note: Hey guys! My first multi-chapter fic, i'm so excited!!! i don't have a strict posting schedule, but I won't go more than two weeks without an update. please bear with me here because I have no idea what it's like to be a florist. I hope you all enjoy!!

p.s. special shoutout again to @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading, i can't thank you enough!

fic below the cut :)

You were a part of the small minority of people who actually loved their job.

The concept of this was strange to most people — strangers making small talk, men asking introductory questions on dates, even your own parents. Maybe because it wasn’t exactly a career; more so a job that someone has as a way to make rent while getting their degree, which is how you originally began to work at Earth's Laughter Florists. College had been years ago for you now, and yet you stayed behind the counter, making bouquets for customers with a genuine smile on your face. It got to the point that when the old owner decided it was time to retire, she chose you to take over. Of course, you immediately accepted; this job was the best part of your day. While all of your friends were going insane with their office jobs, you… admittedly still went insane from time to time, just in a much prettier workplace.

You had even taken it upon yourself to learn flower language: different types of flowers having different symbolic meanings. It was almost like extra credit. It gave you a new challenge of arranging flowers while keeping both color and symbolism in mind, and helped you create bouquets and arrangements with more meaning. This, in turn, gave your customers a new incentive to buy different flowers for different occasions based on what they meant. More business for you, more smiles on people's faces, and more money in your pocket. Everyone wins.

Another benefit of the job — your favorite part — was that it gave you small glimpses into the lives of other people. Flowers had a multiplicity of sorts. They were so versatile that people bought from you for almost every occasion. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, dance recitals, you name it. It made you more appreciative of others. Every day was a new insight into whatever your customers had going on. And today was no exception.

You arrived an hour before the store opened, as usual. You went into the back and threw on your apron, adjusting your name tag. Thoughts of everything you had to do before opening ran through your head, and you quickly began to busy yourself with everything from giving some flowers new vases of water to following up on an order for a wedding. Your two coworkers came in around a half an hour after your arrival, donning their aprons, saying their hellos, and also beginning their day. When the time finally came, you flipped around the sign hanging from the door, telling everyone outside you were open. You stood behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

One of the only downsides of your job was that it required a lot of patience.

It's not like you were just staring at the clock, biding your time until a customer entered. You still had work to get done, mostly tying up loose ends from what you didn't finish before. Your coworkers were occupied with a tall order of arrangements, so they stuck to the back, with the occasional popping in to ask if you needed assistance. Politely, you declined.

Mundane was the word that kept repeating itself in your head as you did your odd jobs around the store. Not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, mundane meant nothing horrible was occurring (even though it meant nothing was occurring). Of course, mundane never does last long.

You had just finished creating an arrangement to put on display when your first customer of the day walked in.

The bell above the door rang, and you quickly walked back over to where you were supposed to be standing, not even bothering to see who had walked in until you were behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller than you had expected, with long brown curls that fell down to his shoulders. His outfit, a black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and black jeans, was the right mix of formal and casual; you could tell he had somewhere to be, but with people that wouldn't mind if he laughed a little too loudly.

To top it all off, he was handsome. You couldn't pull your gaze from him if you tried.

He walked forward, slowly looking around at all the flowers on display until his gaze locked onto you. He broke the silence between you.

“Hello. I need some flowers.”

You maintained your composure and brushed off your previous thoughts. You started your usual routine, asking him the same questions to get to know the situation (and him) better.

“What's the occasion?”

“It's my mum’s birthday.”

“Does she have a favorite flower?” You asked. He replied with no hesitation.

“She loves hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. She always has.”

His immediate answer brought a small smile to your face. You nodded intently and began to think of all the possible combinations of flowers that would work well.

“You're specific. I like that. That makes my job easier. Usually guys say something like ‘I don't know’ or ‘the purple ones’ or just ‘roses’. It's like some people don't even pay attention.”

“Well, that's all I know how to do.”

“A blessing and a curse, I imagine.”

“More of a blessing, believe it or not.”

“I have a similar blessing, though it seems to be laser-focused on plants of all things.” You joked. “Speaking of plants, let me start on your bouquet.”

You left your spot, walking over to the wall of flowers on display for you to pick from. You stopped and stood next to the man, fixated on the wall as you tried to decide what flowers would go well together, in meaning and in visuals. Mumbling, you thought out loud.

“Alright. For his mother. Blue hydrangeas… that's gratitude. What can go with that?”

The customer tilted his head in confusion, clearly having heard you.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but what's with blue hydrangeas and gratitude?” He asked. Your eyes widened, and you turned to face him as you started your explanation.

“Oh, it's flower language. I learned about it to help me make more symbolic bouquets. Back in the Victorian era, people would use bouquets of flowers to convey messages they couldn't say out loud. Most of the time it was a love confession, though you could also reject someone if you picked your flora wisely. Individual flowers have meanings, too. Blue hydrangeas, your mum's favorite, symbolize gratitude. There was even a change in the meaning based on which side the ribbon was on, or if they were given upside down, and…” You cut yourself off when you realized you’d been talking for much too long, your excited expression dropping. “I’m rambling about something you definitely don't care about. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a confused look, and a small laugh of disbelief escaped him.

“What? Don't apologize. That was fascinating. I don't know if I’ll ever see flowers the same way again. In a good way, of course”

The fact that he was actually invested in what you had to say pleasantly surprised you. People — not just customers, people you actually choose to surround yourself with — would often tune you out after the first two sentences.

You knew this man for two minutes and he was already raising your standards.

“Well then, I’m happy to give you a new perspective. I’ll get started on your arrangement.”

You stepped back to get a better look at the flowers lining the walls of the room. You already had a vague idea of what you wanted, you just needed to put it into action. Hydrangeas were grabbed first, and made the focal point of the bouquet immediately. Other flowers were picked up and put down, a trial-and-error of sorts until you found which ones truly matched.

Occasionally, you looked over your shoulder to find your customer still standing there, spectating you from a few feet away. He watched you with a certain gleam in his eye, one you would attribute to admiration if you didn't know any better.

Once your selections were made, you picked out a plastic sheet and took the flowers into the back, where there was a smaller room with a much larger table surface for a workspace. The wrapping was laid out, and meticulously, flowers were laid down. Rearranged. Shifted around. After a few small touches, everything was in the exact place you wanted it.

You finally finished up, wrapping the flowers in the silver plastic and tying it up with a blue ribbon. You went back behind the counter and held the bundle of flowers up, pointing at each one as you described the meaning of each specifically selected flower.

“There's the blue hydrangeas for gratitude, white roses for loyalty and beauty, and belladonna delphinium for protection and well-being. You're basically showering your mum with compliments with this thing.”

“It's gorgeous,” he replied, the look of astonishment from before lingering on his face.

“As nature tends to be.”

“I mean, you can't argue with that, but the way you’ve arranged them, it's… stunning. She’ll love it.”

His compliment surprised you; it wasn't too often you got such a compliment for a simple bouquet. It caused your heart to flutter in your chest in a way that definitely crossed the border of the employee-customer relationship you had going on. Frightening. Maybe if you kept acting unaffected, it would magically stop.

“Let me ring you up.”

There was no true cash register, and you instead relied on a pen, a yellow legal pad, and mental math for customers’ totals. It took a moment, but you calculated what he owed you.

“That'll be $54.”

He muttered in agreement, and you watched as he reached into his coat pocket. His hand stayed there, fiddling around. After a moment, he reached the opposite hand into the opposite pocket. He felt around for a second, pulling his hands out and placing them on his hips. His content expression was replaced by one that was much more panicked.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot my wallet back at my house. Do you take any online payment?”

You shook your head.

“No, sorry. We're old school. That's alright though, I can put these to the side and you can run home and get your wallet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh in response, angry more at himself than anything else.

“That's the thing. I live thirty minutes from here and I’m meeting my mum in fifteen minutes, and I have specific instructions to be on time. I might just…”

He stopped his sentence, paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’ll find something else. Thanks for all your help, though. You have a gift.”

You caught the sincerity behind his now bitter tone, and it made your heart ache. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward. You didn't process that you had said anything until his reaction.

“Wait.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around, and you realized your impulses led you to call out for him even though you had no plan whatsoever.

Biting at your lower lip, you thought of an idea. You genuinely wanted to help this man give his mother flowers… The fact you found him attractive was merely an added bonus. Besides, the pity you felt for him overrode that. Once the metaphorical light bulb lit above your head, you spoke again, leaning in closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this, and this definitely isn't a good business practice, but I can tell you're not just doing this to steal flowers from me, so I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in as well with a look of intrigue. You continued to explain.

“You can take the bouquet for now, and then within… I don't know, two days, you have to pay me back. I’d just need a name and phone number so I can contact you if you don't show up.”

You snatched one of your business cards from the display and flipped it over so the blank side faces upwards, leaving a pen in front of you so he could write. He picked up the ballpoint, seemingly scribbled for a moment, and then slid the card back over to you. Written in surprisingly beautiful handwriting, you read his name aloud.

“Andrew… Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

This caught you off guard. For a second you wondered if maybe you did accidentally give a free bouquet to a shady guy.

“Excuse me?”

Andrew’s mouth went agape as he realized the connotation behind what he said, and he quickly muttered an explanation, flustered. “Oh my god! No. Not like that. You… your name tag.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you gave him a nod.

“Right. Forgot that was there for a second. Alright, take your bouquet. Happy birthday to your mother. And remember, two days.”

He gave you a gesture showing his gratitude, pressing his hands together.

“Thank you. So much. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” He said, grabbing the bouquet.

“Hopefully with money in two days,” you joked.

He let out a laugh.

“Money would do the trick. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You watched as he left, the smile of your face growing as you noticed his appreciation of the flowers you had arranged by the doorway. He paused for a moment before opening the door and leaving, and you caught him humming a tune you'd never heard before.

You hoped he would come back much sooner rather than later.

[serpentine-illusion]

🔊Yapping about my Cirrus/Copia/Aether delusions and y’all are forced to listen 🔊 [ part 1 ]

At some point i promised thoughts and delusions about whatever I am on atm so here it is. I am so deep in the trenches about this ship, this is like a general train of thought ive had for them and their dynamic, how things worked out, what is going on all that. This is up until Copia becomes Papa, I will make a second post with the rest :)

[Some things in here are definitely not at all supported by the lore, this is mostly me being delusional and straight up making shit up and playing with my barbie dolls so 🙌🏻]’

Also!!! If you are looking for like fluff, healthy headcanons about fictional relationships, this might not be the post for you! They are quite toxic and I think exploring toxic people and toxic relationships is very interesting, so just keep that in mind :)

-Cirrus imprints on him as soon as he summons her, idk why, she just does

-she is totally infatuated with, they are glued together most of the time and she takes a lot of tasks and responsibilities off his shoulders. She worships that man physically and spiritually bro

-they do start out as just friends, they have a lot in common and spend A LOT of time together. They have similar personalities, in group settings they seem more reserved and quiet but when they are amongst themselves they usually get loud and passionate about whatever they are talking about

-Copia is sort of confused by ghoul dynamics and finds them hard to navigate/doesnt know how to properly insert himself into the group/what boundaries he should be aware of etc, while cirrus is nervous about overstepping and scaring him off

-they sort of naturally just…develop into something more. They spend more time together, they have really intimate conversations and share a lot with each other, touches linger longer, physical boundaries are non existent.

-theres no official start to them ‘dating’, their bond is just extremely strong and it develops into that direction and they dont really hesitate when it comes to going further

-ghoul dynamics are sort of poly by default. The ghouls all mingle with each other, some have stronger bonds ( cirrus and cumulus are very very close, later her and aether as well)

-BUT cirrus is very territorial. She is very protective and can get very condescending when it comes to her bond with copia. she gets jealous easily when he spends time with the other ghouls.

-cirrus is still actively involved with the other ghouls, it comes natural, but she gets very bothered when anyone but her is close to copia

-the other ghouls are….irritated with this for sure

-Cirrus is sort of stuck in the middle. She feels like she has little to no control over her jealousy when it comes to copia, but on the other hand she feels very self conscious about how the other ghouls perceive her in that context.

-Copia is super aware that she is totally codependent. He can tell its having an impact on her dynamic with the other ghouls and he knows its a bad look on himself to have a ghoul tend to all of his needs 24/7. But he doesn’t do anything about it because he enjoys being the center of attention.

-Cirrus is assigned other tasks with a handful of other ghouls when the Rat MV incident occurs ( I talked about this on my copia reference sheet).

-the only ghouls shooting the MV with copia are dewdrop, mountain and swiss (idc if this isnt accurate my house my rules) and cirrus has a normal reaction and doesnt overreact at all ( she completely crashes out. )

-Copia is send to the infirmary for treatment and cirrus is not allowed to see him ( higher clergy administration generally doesnt care about ghouls beyond their use and purpose. Cirrus doesnt work in the infirmary, so she has no business being there. Copia is not Papa at this point, so he does not really have a say in the matter either. )

-The only way Cirrus can get an update on Copias condition is through Aether ( Aether works in the hospital wing because he has very strong quintessence magic and is overall responsible and reliable )

-Aether and Cirrus have been close before, but they grow super close here

-they genuinely really like each other, they are similar in character, they have the same humor and they enjoy the same things

-Aether loves Cirrus, he thinks shes pretty (🥴🥴😳😳) and responsible. He admires how strong minded and passionate she is. He can also see that Cirrus bottles up a lot, she takes up a lot of responsibilities and doesn’t share when something is too much for her. Because she seems like a reliable person, the other ghouls rarely ask how shes actually doing.

-Aether comforts her a lot and they spend a lot of time together

-when Copia gets out, Cirrus is devastated by his injury. He uses crutches and is in a lot of pain and she totally blames herself for not being there when it happened and for not taking care of him right after the accident.

-Cirrus totally takes over, she makes sure Copia doesnt have to lift a finger, shes mad with worry and shes scared hes gonna break if she doesnt do literally everything for him

-Copia thinks its endearing, but at the same time he is frustrated. He definitely gets a little stir crazy and irritated that she doesnt allow him to do his usual work.

-They definitely get into it a little bit, Copia is trying to make her understand that shes smothering him, hes not as fragile as she makes him feel

-Cirrus like, gets it and she feels bad but at the same time she totally feels like shes losing control and losing him when shes not up in his business 24/7

-Aether spends a lot of time with both of them, he does physical therapy with Copia, infuses his joints with quintessence and in general is there to help him get back on his feet

-Cirrus and Aeth have gotten super super close and Copia expresses he would be happy to welcome Aether into whatever they have

-Cirrus is like. Shes ok with it. She likes Aether so much and she knows realistically this is a great dynamic. They would work well as a trio. Copia gets along with both of them.

-BUT she is so so jealous already, shes fuming inside, her guts hurt thinking about sharing him but she still agrees because she wants Aether to be with the both of them. She is so torn between her rational love for Aether, and being completely devoted to Copia at the same time. It shouldnt be hard to let him in but she is just never able to find any balance.

-So they let Aether into their situationship and it works well. He balances out the dynamic Cirrus and Copia have. Aether is a little more casual than Cirrus for sure, he doesnt obsess as much.

-Cirrus has like. Rules. She has rules in place for boundaries and rules Aether has to respect in the relationship. They only apply to his dynamic with Copia though and Aether is obviously frustrated with her. Cirrus and Aether usually communicate well, they communicate like 2 sane adults, but when it comes to Copia, Cirrus needs to be in control, she needs to oversee everything and it drives Aether nuts.

-Copia does admit to Aether that those rules didnt exactly come from him, but he also never stops Cirrus from making them, because he likes being treated like her little trophy that she doesnt want to share and he also loves her too much to make her upset by denying her the control she needs

-its obviously very inconsiderate and makes Aether feel like hes third wheeling a little bit, but Aether is a people pleaser, he does what hes told to make the people around him happy, so he goes along with it.

-once copia recovers they sort of all go back to relative normalcy. He uses a cane permanently now, definitely lost some mobility and is forced to be way more sedentary.

-He really doesnt mind it. He has been under a lot of pressure from everyone, about everything. How much he works, how he looks, what he does and now everyone is finally giving him more grace.

-he tries to give himself more grace too, he tries to be nicer to himself, he's still pretty bothered about how much or little he works, what he accomplishes etc but he's less bothered by...like himself

-he's always worried and anxious but Aether and Cirrus make him feel good about the way he looks and thinks. He gains some weight and its healthy relationship and recovery weight.

-Cirrus is like, in pain with him, she knows its a change for him that is hard on him and she does everything she can to make him feel better and take care of him

-BUT (and she feels horrible about this) its easier to keep him close to her this way. He relies on her way more now and she enjoys it. And she knows she shouldnt.

-Her and Aether rarely get into fights. They both always tough it out when they have a problem and then find softness and comfort in each other again.

I think this is all for now, at some point I will make a part 2.

[merrybloomwrites]

Something Great (Larry x Bandmember Reader)

Summary: When you find yourself the sole girl in a band with five boys, of course your main focus is the band. But the boys? Well, they also have your attention. Navigating relationships is hard, but if you're lucky, that work can be worth it in the end.

Word Count: 2.5K

AN: Thank you to the anon who requested Louis x Harry x bandmember reader ages ago! Thanks both for the request, and the patience as I dealt with some major writers block on this one.

This isn't going to be a series so much as a little universe where I add random stories to it. So this is the getting together story to create the universe. I have a few ideas so far, but if there's anything specific you'd like to see feel free to send a message or leave a comment!

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Singing has always been a passion of yours. Your mom had put you in the children’s choir at church when you were little, and you’ve been singing ever since.

When your friends heard about auditions for the X-Factor they had all encouraged you to go. Or well, basically forced you. Even when you said it was silly, that you weren’t that good, they still told you that you had to at least try.

You never thought you’d make it, and when you didn’t get accepted after your audition you figured you’d been right. But then you and five boys all got called back and were put together in a band. 

Next thing you know you’re competing, spending all of your time with these five boys to practice and do interviews. You thought this would be short lived, that it would end once you lost the competition, but the opposite had happened. You’d all quickly rose to fame, becoming loved by people all over the world.

It’s a busy job, and doesn’t leave time for much else.

Except you’re a teenage girl, now sharing a tour bus and effectively living with five teenage boys. Five boys who have somehow quickly tamed their fluffy hair from messes into attractive styles. Five boys who are more open and vulnerable about their feelings with each other than anyone you’ve ever met. Five boys who are silly, and protective, and kind.

So yea, of course you can’t help but develop crushes on them. However, while your attention definitely cycles through all of them, you find yourself focusing mostly on Harry and Louis. 

Harry, well you’ve had a crush on him since day one. But you watched the way he was with Louis, the looks and touches they shared. This puts two conflicting thoughts in your mind. The first being that Harry is probably not interested in you, or girls for that matter, because, I mean, look at him with Louis. There’s no doubt that he has feelings for him. On the other hand, it made you pay even more attention to Louis, thus deepening your crush for him as well.

You’d find yourself switching between daydreams about being with Harry and then daydreams about being with Louis. So really it was only a matter of time until that all blended together. Without you even realizing it, you were now daydreaming about it being the three of you. 

Admitting to yourself that you want a relationship with both of them was difficult. Because you knew that it could never happen. So you tried to bury those dreams deep down until they would eventually go away.

It worked for a while. Things got even busier and your focus turned fully to the music.

And then you walked in on a sight you should have expected. But still, seeing Harry and Louis kissing was somehow a shock. One that left you feeling so sad, and lonely, and somehow rejected. 

They didn’t know you caught them, so you had backed away and let them continue their moment in private.

But it was clear that a shift had occurred in the dynamic. The boys kept their secret for another week before telling the rest of you that they were together. You watched as Liam, Niall, and Zayn congratulated them on finally figuring out their feelings. You joined in, hoping your enthusiasm matched the rest. 

Weeks pass, and you’re constantly having to watch Harry and Louis together. They have to hide the relationship from the outside world, which means they’re practically attached at the hip whenever they can find privacy. And apparently that includes times when you, Niall, Liam, and Zayn are there. 

They never get too over the top, but when it’s just the band, they’re always touching in some way, or sharing the occasional kiss. 

It should be sweet, and it is, and you’re happy for them, truly. But jealousy is an ugly thing. And the more you have to watch them being so cute together, the more your jealousy rages. 

You’ve had to start distancing yourself from them, worried that you’d do or say something that you’d later regret. They picked up on this of course, and one day they come to confront you about it while you’re all waiting backstage between sound check and a show. 

“Do you have a problem with us being together?” Louis asks. He’s holding Harry’s hand, and the sight of him running his thumb gently along the back has you almost crying. You wish you were in their position, either of their positions. But no, you’re alone.

“I don’t have a problem,” you reply.

“Really? Because you’ve been avoiding us for weeks now,” Harry says. “Is it because we’re two boys?”

That shocks you, and you say, “Of course not! I can’t believe you’d accuse me of being homophobic! That you’d think so little of me that I’d be bothered by that!”

“Well you’re clearly bothered by something! And we know it has to do with me and Harry being in a relationship,” Louis retorts. 

“I don’t have a problem with you two being in a relationship! I just-” you throw your arms up and turn to step away. Harry reaches out and his hand wraps around your wrist as he says, “Please don’t walk away! Not until we figure this out. I don’t want us drifting apart like we have been.”

Your breath catches, both at his touch and his pleading words. You pause for a moment before finally turning back. Harry drops his hand and your skin feels cold in his absence. 

“What is it, Y/N?” Louis asks calmly. You can tell by his expression that he wants to fix this, that he wants to help you. But you have no idea how to explain the problem without admitting your feelings for them. 

“I guess I’m just feeling lonely. And watching the two of you be so happy together makes that worse. Also-” you cut yourself off once more, not wanting to let anything slip.

“Also?” Louis prompts.

“I guess that as the only girl in the band I thought that if anyone would be in a relationship with a bandmate, it would be me. But I didn’t want to complicate things so I just, you know, squished my feelings down so they’d go away.”

Harry quickly says, “But I mean, you still can. We can even help you! Who is it? Liam? You two would be so cute together! Or is it Z, or Niall?” 

Harry doesn’t notice your expressions he speaks, but Louis does. He immediately understands what Harry hasn’t and says, “Is it one of us?”

Your face flushes and you want so desperately to hide in embarrassment at being called out like this. But you just reply, “I mean, yes and no.”

They both look at you confused before putting the pieces together. “You like both of us,” Harry states. You nod yes. “Did you want to be with one of us?” he asks. You shrug, not really knowing how to reply. “Did you want to be with both of us?” he finally asks. 

You know you can’t lie, that they’ve cornered you and now you have to admit this. “Fine, yes! Okay, yes, I like both of you and I wanted to be with both of you but I knew that wasn’t an option and now you’re together so neither of you are options and I just have to deal with that. You know the truth now, so I’m going to go hide in shame for a little while.”

This time you don’t let them stop you, walking away swiftly and hiding in a nearby girls bathroom where they can’t follow you. 

Things are awkward for the rest of the day but everyone does their best to put on a good show. You wake up the next morning in your hotel room and quickly check twitter to make sure there were no negative comments. Seeing nothing, you’re relieved that the fans didn’t pick up on the tension between you, Harry, and Louis.

You get up and make a cup of tea, and just as you go to take a sip there’s a knock at the door. Never a moment of peace, you think to yourself. That thought gets emphasized when you look through the peephole and see who’s on the other side. 

Somewhat grudgingly, you open the door to let Harry and Louis in.

It’s awkward as you share good mornings. It’s a small room, so the only sitting option is the bed. Knowing this is likely about to be a sit down conversation, you wordlessly turn and sit cross legged on the bed, your back against the headboard. Louis and Harry both perch at the end of the bed, leaving space between them.

For a second you feel guilt, wondering if the conversation yesterday caused a rift between the two boys. But then they share a look and you know that’s not the case. 

“We wanted to talk about what you said yesterday,” Louis begins. 

“Well, actually we talked to each other about it quite a lot last night,” Harry adds. “So now we wanted to include you.”

“I've said everything I have to say,” you state, tired of having this conversation again. 

“Yea but we haven’t,” Harry answers. “You were honest and vulnerable last night. Now it’s our turn.”

There’s a small spark in you, a spark of hope that you try to tamp down in case this doesn’t go your way. 

Louis speaks next, “Harry and I were talking last night and we learned that on top of our feelings for each other, we both have feelings for you as well.”

“You're just saying that now that I’ve said it,” you reply defensively. 

“We’re not! I promise!” Harry interjects. “You can call our mums, they’ll tell you that we’ve called them to talk about how we both have crushes on two band members and don’t know what to do.” 

It’s clear he’s telling the truth, and it makes your mind spin. These two boys, whom you like, both like you as well. But they also like each other. And are in a relationship. So where does that leave you?

“Ok, so we all like each other,” you say. “What now? Does anything change or do I just have to live with this information?”

“We’d like if things would change,” Louis says. “We discussed it last night, and we both want you to be a part of our relationship. If you want to, that is.”

You almost ask for time to think about it. But you’re tired of thinking. “I want to. I want to be with both of you.”

You know it will be difficult to navigate a three person relationship, especially when you’re all under such high levels of scrutiny at all times, but right now you don’t care. Right now, you’re getting everything you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Will you go on a date with us? Tonight?” Harry asks, his cherubic face full of hope. 

“But we’re not allowed to leave the hotel,” you say. 

“Who cares?” Louis adds. “We’ll get takeaway and eat together in my room. It’s completely clean, l’m staying in Harry’s anyway.” 

“Will you have dinner with us?” 

“Okay. Yes, I’ll have dinner with you guys tonight,” you answer. 

“It’s a date,” Louis says with a smile. “Room 328, 6pm.”

“I’ll be there.”

The three of you stand and walk over to the door. Harry leans in for a bruising hug, holding you tight. Louis is next, and it feels so right to be tucked into his arms. They say goodbye and promise to see you later. 

You spend the rest of the day on cloud nine. Each time you go to do something you pause and think about Harry and Louis, and your heart fills with joy. 

You take a long relaxing shower and dress in a nice pair of jeans and a comfy sweater. It’s not often that you put on makeup and style your own hair but you do so today, wanting to look nice for the boys. 

They each greet you with a kiss on the cheek, and you feel heat rush to your face at the gesture while butterflies flutter in your stomach. You have a lovely time, getting to know Harry and Louis even more. 

When you’ve all finished eating you sit together on the bed to watch a movie. You’re sandwiched between the two boys, and overwhelmed by the feeling of comfort that provides. Halfway through the movie, Harry places his hand gently on your thigh. Minutes later, Louis does the same on your other leg. It feels so good and drives you completely crazy at the same time. 

Nothing more happens during the movie. But there’s a certain energy when it ends, and you can’t help but wonder what might happen next. 

In the soft glow of the TV screen you watch Harry and Louis share a glance, followed by a head nod. Harry squeezes the hand that’s resting on your right thigh, then brings his free hand up to cup your check. He gently turns your head to look at him and you watch as his soft eyes dart to look at your lips. 

Your breath catches as you realize what’s happening. Time seems to freeze as Harry slowly leans closer. You try to memorize every moment of this, knowing it’s the start of so much more. Harry’s thumb caresses your face and finally, his lips brush against yours. 

He pulls back a centimeter and takes a deep breath before firmly connecting his lips to yours. The kiss doesn’t last long, but it fills you with warmth from head to toe. 

Harry has the brightest smile, his eyes sparkling with joy. 

“Lou’s turn?” He asks and you happily shift to face Louis now. 

He bites his bottom lip, and you wish he wouldn’t. You’d much rather do that for him. He releases it and his tongue darts out to lick it. Again you can’t wait until you’re able to do it instead. 

His hand goes to your waist and he moves close. You breathe the same air and then, he’s kissing you. This lasts a little longer, his lips sliding against yours for a moment before he pulls away and places one more kiss just at the edge of your mouth. 

You rest your head on Louis' shoulder and lace your fingers with Harry’s. The three of you relax like that until you start to doze off. 

The boys walk you back to your room, but not before each giving you a good night kiss. 

You lay in bed reflecting on the past two days. You know this won’t be easy, navigating a relationship like this. But you know it will be worth it. 

This is clearly the start of something great.

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AN: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed and I'm looking forward to sharing more about this little trio!

[yoru-exe]

⊹₊ COMING HOME LATE ₊⊹

in which they come home late into the night after practice

featuring: tsukishima kei, miya atsumu, oikawa tooru

a/n: its been a very looong time since i write haikyuu huwaaa (the dumpster battle brought be back here and i'm glad!)

tsukishima kei

he always made sure to tell you in advance if he's coming home late because he doesn't want you to stay up and wait for him. while you would go to bed first, tsukishima never goes to sleep on his own. it's one of those night again today, one that made him deeply grateful for your presence in his otherwise quiet life.

he sighed in the dark hallway, tiredness washed over him as he took off his shoes. a soft smile carved it's way on his lips to the sound of soft footsteps approached him. "welcome home", you buried your face against his back. "i'm sweaty" he replied but made no effort to move away from you, his bigger palm squeezing yours on reflex.

you giggled, "i'm your wife, nice to finally have you back home". he rolled his eyes and continued to bask in your comforting embrace, his fatigue melted away. when he's finally ready to move, he guided your chin so that you face upward before kissing you softly on the forehead, "i'm home".

miya atsumu

it's nothing new for him to come home late from practice, especially during tournament seasons. sometimes, he'd stop by osamu's shop, way after it's closing time, and hang out to ungodly hour. this time, he'd lost track of time practising his serve. you're grateful for hinata's thoughtfulness to let you know about it.

on nights like this, you love to do your more lengthy self-care routine that otherwise would be impossible with atsumu around because he'd cling to you for your attention. you started to gather your things — bathbomb, current series you're binging, skin care products. by the time your husband's back, you had your sheet mask on as you made your way to the dark hallway to greet him.

he didn't expect you to still be awake, so when he saw a women in white out of nowhere, he's spooked so bad he panickily scrambled for his key to get out of the door. "should have captured that. suna would love the look on your face", you unsuccessfully stifled your laughter, mostly to not bother the neighbours rather than hurting his feelings. "hey!".

oikawa tooru

you didn't know if he's coming back at all for the night. in fact, you're fairly certain that he's not. so you thought it was safe to watch the series you've promised to watch together. to be fair, the promise was made weeks ago, which he didn't manage to fulfil yet because of his late returnings.

you're a few minutes away from finishing the 5th episode when you heard a very dramatic gasp behind you. "you promised to watch it with me!", oikawa clasped his jacket where his heart should be. an unsurprising reaction, you thought. he might changed his nationally, but deep down, he's still the drama queen he always has been.

while you did not expect your husband to return home tonight, you did thought of a plan in case this situation occurs — to charm your way out. "but you're never home, and i need to distract myself. it's too lonely otherwise", you mustered your best puppy eyes. unfortunately for him, it worked. his pout was still there when he scooped you away to your shared bedroom, "fine, we're watching it tomorrow, but you're starting back to episode one!".

[lacy-oh-lacy]

Sidney Prescott ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

NSFW Alphabet

Scream Masterlist | Main Masterlist

CW: Fem!Reader, general smut, praise kink, oral, bondage, edging

Aftercare

Even if you had the most vanilla sex in the world, Sidney understands the importance of aftercare. She wants you to feel loved and she wants to feel loved back. Cuddles and pillow talk are vital.

Body part

On herself: She’s never given it much thought but she does like her body in general, she appreciates how athletic and durable it is, and she certainly enjoys how much you like it.

On you: She really loves your mouth. Your smile still gives her butterflies, she can’t see you without kissing you and yeah, feeling your mouth work her into an orgasm is her favorite kind of pleasure.

Cum

When Sidney’s in the moment she doesn’t mind getting a bit messy but she does want to get cleaned up soon after you’re finished. Which means post-sex showers together.

Dirty secret 

She’ll eventually open up to you about any dirty secret she has. They're mostly just sexual fantasies that make her blush.

Experience 

Sidney had a couple experimental hook ups in college but you’re the first girl she’s gotten serious with. She is a quick learner and the two of you have good communication so you’re definitely kept satisfied.

Favorite position 

She likes to see your face and make eye contact during sex, so she tends to go for simple things like missionary or cowgirl. Besides it’s not like she needs a complicated position to give you a mind blowing orgasm.

Goofy

Sidney can be pretty silly, especially as you’re getting started, but she gets more focused and intense as you really get into it.

Hair

Shaving down there isn’t much of a priority for her. She has a bush most of the time.

Intimacy 

Intimacy is very important to her. Sure, sometimes you have heated, hormone-driven sex that would appear straight out of a porno, but sweet and romantic sex where you can really feel your love for each other has a special place in her heart.

Jack off

Not often. She’d rather get off with you even if that means waiting a while. 

Kink

Sidney likes experimenting with different kinks but she does usually lean vanilla. Her regularly occurring ones are mommy kink, praise and edging.

Location 

Pretty much only your home, but not just the bedroom. You have your share of fun on the couch, in the bathtub, up against the wall and so on.

Motivation 

A lot of the time Sidney wants to have sex to express her affection, so in that sense loving you is what motivates her. On a more carnal level though when you act flirty or walk around in nothing but one of her shirts, that really turns her on.

No

Well, she’s got a lot of trauma so things like choking, blood or the hard forms of pain play are out.

Oral

Giving and receiving oral are two of her favorite parts of sex. She usually opts for giving but of course you reciprocate plenty because she absolutely deserves it.

Pace

Slow and soft sex definitely happens but she actually loves fucking you hard and fast a lot of the time too, she still has a way of making that feel loving though.

Quickie 

It’s not proffered but she does like them. She’ll take any chance to get your hands on each other and it is kinda fun seeing how quickly she can make you cum.

Risk

Not her thing, Sidney rarely takes unnecessary risks. She doesn’t need an added layer of excitement anyway, just having you so close thrills her enough. 

Stamina 

You can’t survive multiple serial killers without having some serious stamina. Sidney can be hard to keep up with sometimes.

Toys

She probably doesn’t suggest any herself but if you want to bring some sex toys into the bedroom her curiosity is peaked and she’s happy to try them out.

Unfair

She can definitely be a tease but more often than not it’s in a playful way. 

Volume

She isn’t usually that loud but her voice does get pleasantly high pitched as she gets close to coming.

Wild card

You’ve experimented with bondage during sex a bit, but less to be kinky and more as a trust exercise. Sidney does like it but it’s rare she feels comfortable enough to do it.

X-Ray 

Sidney’s body is athletic but also so soft, spare the rougher patches of scarring. 

Yearning 

She doesn’t have the highest libido in the world. She can go a while without having sex but she does get pretty needy when she’s in the mood.

Zzz

She loves falling asleep with you so she definitely pulls you into her arms and drags you to bed if she’s feeling dozy after sex.

[frownyalfred]

Hello! A random and specific question has occurred to me, and I think you might have some thoughts, if you're ok with answering!

So, most of the time Judaism is passed down matrilineally. I know there are some exceptions, and some groups that believe Judaism can be passed down through either parent, but generally it's just through the mother. This is how dc accidentally made Bruce Jewish.

However, is it the birthing parent who makes a child Jewish? Or is it strictly the mother, regardless of if she gives birth to the child or not?

I know that sounds like I'm asking about trans Jewish people, but I'm actually curious how this would play out in a world where mpreg is normalized, like in an abo alternate universe. For instance, if Bruce is Jewish and gets pregnant as an omega, would his kids also be Jewish? I did look up perspectives on trans Jewish people having kids, and unsurprisingly views are divided but it seemed like people mostly consider the birthing parent being important, i.e. a trans Jewish man would have Jewish children regardless of the other parent. What are your thoughts on this, if you're open to sharing?

(This ask got longer than I meant, sorry I wrote you a whole essay lol. Also I really hope this doesn't come across as rude, and I sincerely apologize if it does. Tone is difficult on the internet!)

Oh, that's a very very interesting question. Another one I'd like to ask my rabbi if I ever work up the nerve.

I'm no scholar, so if someone else wants to correct me on this one, feel free. But here's my best guess:

The gist of matrilineal descent is that it emerged from a time when the only way you could guarantee that a child was Jewish was to witness the birth from a Jewish mother. Rape, missing fathers, etc all made it a grey area, and back then, it was the only way to be "sure" that a child was halachically Jewish.

The interesting thing is, this was a change from patrilineal descent, but people still argue about when that change happened. Depending on the denomination, matrilineal descent is very very important beyond just determining Judaism, or it's a vestigial practice that has stuck around because it's, well, tradition.

Now, origin and existence are two different things. While it might have emerged for certain reasons, modern standards have obviously changed. We can do DNA tests and other rituals. But a lot of major denominations will turn away patrilineal Jews or hold those with Jewish DNA at arm's length until their Jewishness has been determined. That's only changed recently, and even then very slowly.

So, now that that's out of the way -- how does this relate to omegaverse? I suppose carriers in a/b/o universes would be considered de facto mothers, because they give birth. From my (limited) understanding, the core of most strict matrilineal arguments are 1) we've always done it this way post reception of the Torah 2) it was the only way to ensure someone was Jewish and 3) there are inherent attributes to mothers/the feminine that Rabbis argue are metaphysical and important to consider.

But it depends on how you write omegas. Are they defined by their ability to birth? Are they dual sex or single sex? Do they have the ability to sire offspring in addition to carrying them? Do they serve a "motherly" role in addition to giving birth? All things to consider.

Me personally, I'm a big proponent of accepting all Jews as they are, as long as they're not proselytizing or cosplaying as Jewish from another religion. It's a closed practice but we're also dwindling in number, so turning away people because their father was Jewish and not their mother is bizarre to me. Especially if they were raised in the religion -- at that point it's a technicality, but many rabbis will still make you go through a conversion which is wild to me.

I would throw out there, for the sake of omegaverse -- if the carrier is Jewish, generally, in most cases, the pups are Jewish. That makes sense to me.

[munv]

𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗜 𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗔 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘?

SAVE ME I FINALLY CONTINUED THIS SERIES FOR 2025 AS PROMISEDDDDDD LETS GOOOOO??

Pain beckons you to rid yourself of a weak mindset, to improve, to move forward, and to forget the empty hollow that you used to be, but you can't find that spark within yourself. The same one that ended up turning you into a shell of what you once were, an old name you were referred to during such bright times. Yet, now you can only find it within yourself to eat up every word that's thrown up at you to ease that emptiness.

It's a desperate attempt. 

A futile one.

And it hurts you more than it hurts them.

It's taking piece by piece, and slowly but surely taking all for what you're worth. Every single thing that builds up your character, what makes the bright bubbling soul is now broken. Gone. And there is nothing you can do about it. It was to a point where you were doing everything to convince yourself "I'm better than them". A stupid lie to cover up the truth. 

It slips from the grasp of the wretched, and into a small child that knows zero to nothing. Make-believe acquaintances filled the child's everyday life. Your everyday life. They brought empty promises to truth, and two-faced devils with a slit tongue to their knees. The world for you to behold, just in the palms of your hand. The pinnacle of power is just so close, but not yet there. Not yet.

They don't work for free. They will share this paradise at a price, in the darkness those voices call out, beg, and plead they may. Are never heard, for they carry warnings with them. It doesn't pass by or occur though, not when their muffled screams fall on the deaf ears of the naive and careless. Lambs to the slaughter. And that much is clear when their mutated bodies are accompanied by the smell of sweet death. Fruity undertones and rotting flesh. They must've been there for a while because beyond that door the blood spills out. 

Each stream of the red liquid spells out your name letter by letter. 

They welcome you with open arms, ready to grace you with their overwhelming presence. Nobody ever realizes what they have done unless it's a tad bit too late, and you are a prime example of such. You are pulled in close within their hold, with no way to escape, no second of a breather.

"This is what you wanted, no?"

It speaks to you in a blunt tone, daring you to voice out its wrongings yourself. It knows what you've seen, the mutated bodies, the gut-wrenching torture as every victim was torn limb to limb, cut open, and feasted upon like fine dining. Every organ was left to the side individually so the rest of them could get a taste of what they were like. Side dishes seasoned in mostly red. The main theme. And to top it all off, in round glass cups that curved and swerved upwards was vital fluid in all its glory. Once tipped over, it spilled over the satin sheets laid on the table, running wild, just as it would in a real breathing body. 

They were treated like animals. A few yelled for the soon-to-be meals to be quiet meanwhile some laughed at the fruitless attempts at freedom. They deserve this.

You are a true lamb, not one of those sheep in wolf's clothing. You. Are. Pure

This exact thought devours your mind and soul, becoming one in the process. It's undeniable, inescapable. And they tell you to accept your true nature. The one it— no.. she bestowed upon you like a holy grail. Yet, you don't feel the peak of it just yet. You are still far too young, and inexperienced to reach the goal. So they wait. 

Many long years, some felt like true eons. But it was ok, they stayed with you, fed you, and watched you grow. And soon the fruits of their labor were sealed. You soon found yourself drifting down what seemed to be a long hallway, endless, is what it seemed to be.

This

is 

your 

home.

The light engulfed you for the last time, and you woke up, and the dull pain of being killed reached out to you but failed nonetheless.   

It was time and this was your purpose.

TAG-LIST: @tabbycake @vduxx @thebigcheez @sattosugu @96jnie @sammyiguess @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9 @boo-kugo @vile-woman @itsmekalou @tojisworm69 @bbynday @whats-humanity-lol

(please send in anon or comment to be on the talglist!!)

[critter-ghosting-some-tricks]

Maybe ghost trick spoils ahead but heres a post for @alto-tenure's prompt "Lynne and Memry swap with Jowd and Cabanela AU" given for @fyeahghosttrick's Ghost Swap 2024

I’ll be completely honest here- I did NOT expect this prompt to make my brain pop off but when I read through the prompts the first time I hesitated on this one to think for a second about “how would that work?” And boom- my first ghost-swap entry, my first attempt even vaguely trying to emanate another artstyle in a long time and a multitude of files. Enjoy it though, obviously. 

Anywhere here’s my thoughts on this version:

I’m well aware of the fact that it’s possible that the prompt meant to simply swap Memry and Lynne with Cabanela and Jowd cleanly and not change the story much but my brain couldn’t figure it out or get that version to care. 

So first things first is who I swapped with who. As you can see I put Lynne in Jowd’s place and Memry in Cabanela’s place. At first I wasn’t sure about it because it’s hard to imagine Lynne as depressed as Jowd is but it just makes sense to me. I mean- Jowd is Lynne’s hero, Lynne and Jowd already share many similarities due to this and Lynne would still be a target for Yomiel. Mostly, though, the decision was made because of the similarities I realized Memry and Cabanela have- namely determination and how weirdly others view them. 

As for other characters and story beats I admit I had a very tricky time deciding who the new Lynne would be (while Memry could admittedly be replaced by any rooky detective. However I think I have something I’m somewhat happy with where it’s basically that the revenge and Temsik plot gets delayed for some reason (including the part about Alma) and a different Kamila attraction ends up killing Jowd and Lynne is the one to walk in and turn herself in. She (very foolishly) connects the mysterious fortune to the mysterious death that happened to the man that kidnapped her. Cabanela leaves the industry (or takes a break from it at least) after Jowd dies and ends up working with Pigeon man for some reason. Then he maybe takes over when Pigeon man moves away? I’m not sure where Cabanela would really be tbh but that makes some sense to me at least. That or he does just swap with Memry and is lower than he ever would have been in the social ladder because of taking a break and losing drive without Jowd.

 When the night of the game takes place I’m still not entirely sure who takes Lynne’s place but I think it would be neat if it was Alma, trying to make sure the actual killer of her husband gets caught when she doesn’t think Lynne did it (plus then the Lynne character and Kamila still live together). Also, before Jowd’s death Kamila and Kynne grow close faster than canonly so that her absence allows them to still care for each other so deeply. Lynne managed to become Kamila’s hero at that time and basically a daughter to Alma as well as Jowd. To be fair there’s also longer for them to have known eachother since, as previously stated, it all would have to occur later so that Memry and Lynne could have been close detective partners before Jowd dies. 

But why would Yomiel still go to frame Alma for murdering him when she wasn’t at the park and Jowd is dead? Well, I think he would think that having Alma and Lynne in jail would make Jowd roll in his grave. 

Or alternatively Kamila could be the new Lynne and Alma is on some sort of work trip and Amalie really is kidnapped but I don’t like that and Yomiel framing her would still just be to hurt Lynne and Jowd’s spirit. 

But anyways, other than that plot is very similar to the normal game. Memry (who would have also gotten close to Alma and/or Kamila through Lynne and working on her case+ working with Cabanela /pigeon man) rises the ranks and takes the path of the white coat because she knows that Lynne never would have killed the person she looked up to and loved so much. Lynne learns to paint and eventually learns to actually blame herself for things that aren’t her fault. They reunite outside of the prison and learn about what really happened from the Justice Minister. Lynne, Missile, Sissle and Yomiel go back in time and fix everything. You know the drill. 

A few small but specific things that I imagine changing are

Memry rollerskates everywhere instead of dancing and people remark about how nobody “gets from place to place” the way she does and she’s seen as an “odd girl”. 

Bugs are used more frequently in the plot and in how Memry rises through the ranks and figures stuff like point X out. 

Lynne doesn’t paint portraits but is more abstract. She also doesn’t remember what Yomiel looks like, just his colors and voice. 

Lynne is just as adored by everyone who talks about her as Jowd is so that doesn’t change but instead of people calling her their hero, words such as “she was always such a ray of sunshine in the force” are used. 

And maybe I’ll think of more but for now that’s all I feel like writing on it that I don’t think are covered by the art. Thanks for dealing with this rambling- I hope you enjoy my take on this prompt!

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hi, hope you’re having a good day/night. I was wondering if you could write a Tristan liones x reader who is Lancelot’s sibling

𖤹 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐎𝐟𝐟

Sypnosis [Moments a-bloom when it comes to the three since childhood, the memories certainly hold a rarity of precious moments.]

Characters [Tristan Liones, Lancelot]

Note || certainly! wrote something sweet, poor Tristan carries a heck lotta of guilt. So I sorta focused it around that.

You and Tristan have a playful yet competitive, gentle relationship. Ever since childhood, you've always found ways to one-up each other—whether in training or in mischievous pranks (sometimes your brother teams up with you when it came to playing pranks, mostly harmless though). But it’s always been friendly, even if both of you secretly want to prove who’s the best. Lancelot on occasion asks to spar with Tristan, seeing how good of a match he is for you, because in a way — he wants to be sure you’re safe with him.

Tristan is very protective of you, especially after the accident with Lancelot. He feels an immense sense of guilt and is constantly making sure you're safe, even if it means being overbearing at times. Even despite your brother’s insistence at the time that he was fine and wanted to keep going, you were also very worried.

Your bond with Tristan is stronger than anyone realizes. You two don't need words to communicate during battles—you’ve fought side by side for so long that a single glance is enough to know what the other is thinking.

Unlike Tristan, who is driven by emotion and intense ideals, you are often the more level-headed one in certain situations; in a way akin to how Lancelot can help Tristan. You have a calming influence on him, especially when he starts getting lost in his guilt over his Demon powers or his rivalry with Lancelot.

Despite his usual exterior as a prince, Tristan has a soft spot for you. Whenever you’re feeling down or exhausted, he’ll show his affection in subtle ways, like brushing your hair out of your face or bringing you your favorite tea.

When Lancelot had his sudden disappearance, Tristan confides in you more than anyone. He admits that he feels lost without his presence and doesn't know how to deal with the void left behind, especially after everything that happened between them. It was quite a thing to work through in the time that it occurred, but it had eased up on him from your understanding. Though you weren’t sure that even now if he was capable of amending his relationship with your brother, however, you couldn’t help but feel lost without him as well. It quite a change to experience.

Like you, Tristan often struggles with his complicated relationship with Meliodas. While Tristan is proud of his father's heroism, he's also frustrated by his dad’s reckless behavior. You both have long, heartfelt talks about how difficult it is to live up to the expectations placed upon you by your parents. While you had a decent understanding of what your own father and mother expect from you yourself, you couldn’t really help the thought that you could do more instead of disappointing them.

While you keep your emotions in check, Tristan sometimes loses his temper when he feels helpless. He can get frustrated when his own powers get out of control, and you'll often be the one to help him calm down, you are usually the only other person capable of snapping him back to reality.

In moments of extreme tension during a fight, you can be found standing beside Tristan, your hand on his shoulder, grounding him. He doesn’t say it, but it’s your presence that brings him an extreme comfort that allows him to breathe easier and better focus on the battle ahead.

Though Tristan and Lancelot have a somewhat strained relationship, he does envy the bond you share with your sibling. He finds it hard not to feel a little jealous when Lancelot shows you more affection than he does. This jealousy is often internalized, but you know it’s there. You do try your best to alleviate the circumstances in which they do have a genuine dispute, but you really aren’t sure on what you can do to help those two.

Tristan prefers training with you over most people. Whether it's practicing sword fighting or honing his magical abilities, he feels more at ease when you’re his sparring partner.

While Tristan wants to become a hero like his father, you dream of building your own legacy. You believe in a kind of heroism that’s quiet and steady, rather than one defined by legendary acts. Tristan admires this about you, even if he can’t quite understand it.

There was a night where Tristan finally admits his fear of his Demon powers to you. He feels as if he might never be able to escape them, but you reassure him that he's not defined by them, and you’ll always be there to help him fight the darkness within. Though, you can understand why he seemed so hesitant to call on his demon abilities.

Whenever Tristan starts to doubt his abilities or worth, you’re always there to gently remind him that he has already accomplished so much. He tends to brush off compliments, but deep down, he treasures every word.

You and Tristan share a deep bond over the stories his mother, Elizabeth, has told you about her own struggles with her powers. You often find comfort in talking about Elizabeth’s compassion and resolve, something Tristan clings to when his own doubts creep in. Because of that, you had a better understanding of why he praises his mother so deeply.

Tristan admires your strength, both physical and emotional. He has always respected how you handle yourself in difficult situations, especially given the pressures of being Lancelot’s sibling. You’ve always known your brother to be quite capable but there were also the problems in which it was possible that you could be used against Lancelot, as you weren’t easily barred in strength was he was.

On quiet nights, Tristan might find himself beside you, both of you just sitting in silence, offering each other comfort without needing to say anything. Sometimes, that’s all he needs.

Tristan loves sparring with you, though it’s usually a friendly competition. You both have a similar fighting style, him mixing both divine and demon powers, and you challenge each other to grow stronger.

Despite the weight of his responsibilities, Tristan enjoys laughing with you. You both have a dark sense of humor, often finding joy in moments where others might see only danger or despair. It creates quite a few oddities in which you both had questioned why you get the few odd looks here and there.

Though he often expresses discomfort around people using their powers recklessly, Tristan becomes very defensive when it comes to you. He won’t hesitate to protect you, even at the risk of his own life.

Tristan has always admired your resilience. He sees how strong you are in ways that he sometimes feels he lacks. This admiration grows every time he witnesses you fighting for the people you care about.

When you're not training or dealing with battles, Tristan enjoys discussing the history of Liones and its knights with you. He values your opinions and finds it refreshing to talk about something that isn't related to combat or leadership.

Although Tristan is now older, he often finds himself learning from you, especially in terms of managing emotions. Your ability to navigate the complex relationships around you is something he greatly admires.

The sun had began its descent over the horizon of Liones, leaving the watchers to scuffle about to get to the warmth of their homes. Clouds painted over by the hues of pink and gold, casting the golden light of warmth, which had reflected the protection of the goddess powers he inherited from his mother. The evening breeze carried the scent of petrichor, as it had indeed rained a few minutes prior, leaving the ground of which he walked upon to be wet. It was peaceful---almost too peaceful for Tristan. His gaze was locked on the horizon, innermost corners of which the brightest rays of the sun was leaving the ever-expanding sky, his thoughts were almost as distant. Like the setting sun.

You approached the prince quietly, carrying a waver of hesitance in not wanting to disturb him at first. But when you saw the furrow in his brow, the tightness in his shoulders, you were fully aware he wasn't at all eased.

"Tristan," You spoke softly, your voice finally breaking the silence in which he was descending an incessant pit of thoughts. A negative thing you had come to learn over the years as, you didn't want to rush him though.

He craned his head slightly, a faint glimmer of recognition in his two-toned eyes. His right was the serene blue of his mother Elizabeth; which contrasted highly in comparison to his left, the deep emerald of his father, Meliodas. You had come to deeply recognize how unpredictable he can be, which reflected greatly in Tristan himself. While the prince was easily someone you've come to predict, he had his moments of unpredictability. Though they were calm now, you knew the internal storm they often mirrored was never far from the fissures of the surface.

"You should be resting." He said, his tone firm within his usual calm demeanor, though the note in his voice could tip it off to you. The weariness wasn't only from fatigue. "There's nothing for you to worry about." He adds, speaking your name within a gentler tone.

You stepped closer, almost daring for him to try you as you crossed the distance between the both of you and sitting your place beside him on the stone balcony, eyes following his. You sang, the inflection ringing commonplace in his ears; "Im familiar with that kind of tone, Tristan. You've been carrying that heavy burden, you can't seem to let go of it again, hm?"

His lips pressed into a thin line, returning his gaze straight ahead, as if looking for something that truly wasn't there. "It's not about the kingdom, its..." He trailed off, and you could feel the unspoken words hanging in the air between you. "It's about my powers, I suppose."

The weight of the words wasn't lost on you. You both knew the struggle far too well---the very essence of his demonic powers, the part of him he both feared and resented. While you were aware he held his father in high regard, he held a sense of regret for inheriting his father's abilities. It was a constant battle stirring within him, one that had only grown heavier with each and every passing day, starting right where he had injured Lancelot back then.

Since the battle with Arthur, King of Chaos, he felt himself useless. He wasn't able to get out of the dark place that his demon abilities chained him down in.

"You can't keep blaming yourself," You said tender-hearted, your voice soft but firm. "Lancelot forgave you long ago. He trusts you, as you would him."

Tristan's fingers twitched at his side, the muscles in his jaw tensing. He didn't look at you, but you could see the inner turmoil written far and clear and his face. "It's not just about him. I hurt him because of my own weakness, and yet again he had to step in." He begins, "Because I can't control it. I can't control me." He finally turned to you, and his gaze was filled with a mix of frustration and sorrow. "What if I lose control again? What if I hurt someone else?"

You reached out and placed a hand on his arm, grounding him, offer the means of a silent support that words alone couldn't convey. "Tristan," You began, "You aren't your power. Yes, it's part of you, but it will never define you. You've chosen the path of peace and I too believe it. You are far stronger than you think yourself to be."

He exhaled a long breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction as your words sank in. "I know I should trust myself more," He admits, the hint of vulnerability he hides behind his usual mask now clear. "But it's hard. I don't want to hurt anyone. Especially not you, Lancelot or anyone else that I care about."

You gave a small, reassuring smile, squeezing his arm gently. "We're all here for you, Tristan. You don't have to bear the weight alone. Not now, not ever."

It was odd, while you weren't necessarily the best with words as often as you wanted to be. The words felt as if they came easier than ever when it came to Tristan, oddly enough.

It was nice.

There was a long silence between the two of you, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning on its axis. It was just the two of you, together in the calm after the storm. Despite everything--the war, the trials, the fears--it was here, in this moment, that you could truly feel the reaches of the bond with him, unwavering and steady.

"I'm not as strong as you think," He said quietly, his gaze dropping to the ground as if in deep thought. "But... maybe I don't always need to be. It's hard, of course, but I could trust others too and including you." He grins with a weak chuckle, almost in embarrassment.

You only smiled, a little brighter than previously. "You're strong then you realize, I admit that I have a problem with it too, but it doesn't hurt to have more confidence---More then anyone else Tristan, I trust you."

His gaze softened at your words, and for a fleeting moment, he looked... at peace. It was a rarity, but you had always known that Tristan's inherent strength had always laid in his heart, and you had come to realize. That he just simply cares, he just needs some help in showing it better.

After a long pause, Tristan's lips curled into a small sincere smile. "Thanks, I- actually needed that, and for being here." He also adds.

You nodded, somewhat feeling alleviated within your heart, the strings now pulling a soft melody. You could feel the way the warmth of the moment had settled around you both, "Always."

As the last rays of sunlight dissipated into the depths below, you and Tristan fell into a comfortable silence. Both easier in the being, that no matter what, it was the courage and humanity that helped you both along despite any and all challenges you may face.

And for the first time in a long while, Tristan didn't feel the crushing weight of his power.

With you beside him, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

[sexisbetteronthemoon]

Is there any lore/world building in ur au that won’t be brought up in the the fic but is still a fun fact u can share?

thanks for asking, i'm delighted to answer!  i've been trying to incorporate as much as i can of the world through Keith's observations, but hmm well here's a few fun facts off the top of my head since i had too much coffee and am not getting any sleep anytime soon:

the planet is always trying to kill Keith in one form or another, and still, Keith loves it there.

there's mermaids!  they're not like the mermaid planet in vld.  to provide a comparison in human evolution terms, these are barely evolving from advanced australopithecus to homo erectus (they could still deviate into something else).  they're almost as smart as ravens and can use tools and mostly avoid surface waters bc there's often tidal waves that can sweep them out and strand them to dry out and die.  Keith has not yet discovered them.

the smartest animal on the planet is actually Kosmo's species!  they do not speak, but use body language and scent/chemo signals to communicate.  Kosmo is very confused as to why its adoptive parents do not understand it unless it's yelling at them (barking/growling/whining).  it'll get the gist eventually, it's still baby.  bonus:  the blink dogs can convert the radiation from the crystal fields into energy!  it's how they survive on such little food.  but like some animals, it needs more than one type of “food” to survive.

speaking of the crystal fields, there's more creatures there, including a few plants.

the desert is cold, yet dry/arid.  it's not uncommon for it to snow there in winter (just an inch or two), but the snow melts and evaporates pretty quickly.  Keith is actually a little afraid of this place because of the sandwalkers.  “the elephants of the desert”, they're simultaneously large and hard to see bc they're thin with four limbs and capable of flattening to burrow slightly in the sand to blend in.  they move silently and walk very slowly to conserve energy unless they've spotted prey, and everything that moves is prey.  they produce a kind of silk web they use to travel during wind storms bc they're very light.  they're also not very good eating, so most predator animals don't bother with them.  (if you're picturing a walking stick bug at around 11 ft long, you've got it!)

rock worms are based on the creatures in Tremors movies!  (which someone already figured out in the comments on that chapter, way to go!)  they differ from cave worms in that rock worms only eat rock and burrow into it.  cave worms eat excrement and apparently Lance's jumpsuit as well.

it was an earthquake that separated Kosmo from its family.  many died, but there were some survivors.  this will not become a problem until Kosmo is an adult, and thus beyond the story's end.  i may write a short one shot about it later on if anyone's interested.  in that same vein, i will likely ask before the last chapter, or after, if anyone has unresolved questions curiosities, etc. and i'll answer or make one shots about it once the main story is over.

the red light refraction is caused by a ginormous red crystal that lays in the path of the sun to cover the mountain range where Keith lives and hundreds of miles around it.  it can actually be seen from the ground level if you go up a tall tree (it is always visible from the mountain).  it's very big.  and yes, this does mean there there are places on Planet Red where redset doesn't occur and there's normal sunsets.  there's also places where there's redrises.

Allura met Lance's mother when she visited a beach on Earth (on a diplomatic mission to include Earth in the space council after the war) and she absolutely snuck away from her guards and party to hit on her while she was working, but ended up embarrassing herself and thought she'd ruined her chance.  but it made Lance's mother laugh and it completely won her over bc Lance's mom loves to laugh.

on the subject of the war, zarkon did not live thousands of years.  mofo died a regular ass death (as did honerva) and his descendants carried on the war for ages until an armistice was reached.

Planet Red used to be mostly covered in water until massive earthquakes and continental shifts brought land up and emptied the water out into oceans and seas.  this was hundreds upon thousands of years ago, however.  there is also a caldera beneath the jungle which keeps it warm.

the sun has a pair but it orbits too distantly to affect Planet Red.  it's a dwarf red and can be seen via telescope in the night sky.  Keith calls it “Little Red” (as in Riding Hood).

there's a mushroom forest with enormous mushrooms and tiny, humanoid fairies closer to the crystal fields, but they're basically wasps and very territorial.  if they sense something is a threat, they swarm, biting and scratching, until it leaves or they're killed.  they make hives in the gills of some mushrooms and are often targeted by birds and other creatures.  they need sodium and glucose and will enthusiastically feed upon blood to get it.  since it's so close to the radiation, Keith doesn't go there often.

once, Keith managed to convince Shiro (takashi as he's called in the fic bc they're blood brothers) that he's adopted bc Shiro doesn't look like either Heath or Krolia.  he does have Heath's chin, but that's it.  he mostly looks like Krolia's father, whom they've never met.  Shiro cried about it and Keith got grounded.  Shiro was just a preteen then.  (Keith was a whole menace and a half when he was kid.)  all three kids used to fight over the control of the big tv and Acxa always won bc she waited for Shiro and Keith to tire each other out before diving in and sitting on them until they surrendered.

“Kogane” isn't Keith's surname!  it doesn't come up at all, but since Shiro is the only one with a surname, i slapped that baby on the whole family.  only Shiro's friends call him as such.  (it felt weird to get rid of the “Shiro” nickname entirely for this fic, so i finagled it to still be possible, just not within his family unless Keith or Acxa is mocking him (as siblings do).

i hope you found these tidbits entertaining!  if you'd like more info, hit me up! ❤️💙

[missjomarch]

Plz write me the fluffiest Nico you can!

✨ imagine ✨ like sick cuddles or sleepy morning smooches and falling back to sleep 🥰

No because I was so sick last weekend and my own personal Nico Hischier definitely would've fixed me right up. Using my favorite ladylooch trademark Nico nickname (sweets) in honor of you requesting this.

You felt fine when you left for work this morning, but as the day progressed the pounding in your head and the aches in your body only got worse. All it took was one look from your boss and you were being sent home to rest.

The drive to the house was only 10 minutes, but you honestly weren't sure you'd make it. You were completely out of it. It hadn't even occurred to you that you should probably text Nico, your boyfriend, that you had left work early and were headed home.

You left all of your work things in the car, barely managing to drag your own self up the stairs to the front door. When you opened the door, Nico was folding laundry on the couch. The domesticity of the action would've warmed your heart had you not been actively fighting a wave of nausea. His head whipped in your direction, clearly not expecting anyone to be entering his house unannounced at this time of day.

Confusion washed over his features when his eyes found you standing in the door way, and he picked up his phone to check the time. When he confirmed that 5 o'clock hadn't magically arrived without his notice, he returned his gaze to you.

"Babe? What're you doing home so early?" He's making his way towards you as he's speaking. You take two steps forward before deciding that it might be best to just let him come to you. A look of concern is growing on his face as he nears you, but he chooses not to mention your pallid complexion. Instead he wraps you in his arms, placing soft kisses to your hairline.

"Work sent me home, don't feel good," You manage to mumble.

"What's wrong, baby?" His chest rumbles as he speaks, lulling you momentarily. You close your eyes against the spinning room, willing the nausea to stop. Bad idea. Suddenly your yanking out of Nico's hold and sprinting to the half bath down the hallway.

You barely make it to the toilet before you're emptying your stomach. Apparently Nico wasn't far behind you because you can soon feel his hands pulling your hair back.

"Let it out, baby," he soothes, hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. When you're done, Nico leaves your side for a moment only to return with a cold washcloth. You take it from him and press it to your face, the coolness alleviating some of your discomfort.

"Sorry," you mumble, not exactly sure what you're apologizing for. You just know you don't love the idea of your boyfriend watching you hurl your guts up.

Nico shakes his head, "don't apologize. If I knew you didn't feel good I would've picked you up from work."

"I just thought I had a headache."

"Do you feel better now?" Nico's hand returned to tracing shapes on your back.

"Nope." Your stomach was still churning, your head was still pounding, and you still felt like you were on the verge of puking. You felt Nico place a soft kiss to the top of your head before watching him leave the bathroom again, mumbling that he'd be back in 2 minutes. Halfway through those two minutes you were vomiting again, and Nico came rushing back to the bathroom.

"Breathe, sweets." Nico coaxed as you gasped.

"Okay, now I feel a bit better." You sighed once you were done.

"Let's go lay down, yeah?" You nodded, wanting nothing more than to pass out in Nico's hold. He helped you get cleaned up before carrying you to your shared bedroom. He had already moved a plastic trashcan beside the bed and a new washcloth and water bottle were waiting on the nightstand.

Nico was sat against the headboard with you between his legs. The position kept you mostly upright in an attempt to keep the sickness at bay. Nico's right arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand ran through your hair.

"Thank you," you whispered, "I know this is gross." You could hear Nico's scoff lightly at your comment.

"You, my love, could never be gross. I just want to make you feel better." Your heart warmed at his genuine disheartened tone, clearly upset he couldn't magically cure your illness. Though you had no doubt he'd be the first to attempt it if he had the means.

"I love you, Hisch." The sentiment is mumbled, but Nico hears it loud and clear.

"I love you more, sweets. Get some rest."

[snake-and-mouse]

Regarding the issues surrounding the Kindergarten Mafia discord server, a large fandom server mostly dedicated to the kinnporsche fandom. It is an issue that encompasses multiple events and many other people have been hurt who I do not want to speak for, so this will not be the full picture, just a part of my part. If anyone reads this and has questions, they can reach out to me.

I am Will/Logan, also known as Sweet-William in fanfic circles, and I am not making this post because I have a vendetta, or to be malicious, as some of my previous actions have been called by the moderators of the server. I am making it because I have the right to speak on my experiences (as others I hope will speak up and share theirs, now that they know they are not alone), and because I want to warn people so what happened to me does not happen to them.

I am also making this post because @accal1a aka Hann the admin of the server has refused to delete content created by myself and many of my friends from the server, all of who left because they like me felt unsafe. The original request was sent by proxy as Hann has me blocked, and though they said they would unblock me so we could discuss it, they never did. As a writer I take it seriously when my work, and also details of my personal life, are taken. When I even offered to go through and delete it all myself if temporarily given access to the server, my messages were completely ignored.

The server is not a safe place for people of colour. It is not a place safe from racism, or xenophobia, and its leadership has historically been and continues to this day, to perpetuate racism in fandom spaces and shelter people who have hurt others with no real repercussions, accountability, or transparency.

The original issue was the result of this conversation between myself and Rachael, one of the moderators. I earlier stepped into a conversation where several microaggressions occurred regarding native american culture. As a Native, it was my right to speak up.

After this conversation I was urged to bring the issue directly to Hann, and from there the issues spiralled out of control. Hann originally was very supportive, and we became what I thought to be close friends. They made many reassurances Rachael would be held accountable, and changes would be made to the server to make it a safer place for pocs.

Rachael was never actually held accountable. Even when it came to light she had messaged me to issue the warning while lying to the rest of the mod team that she had "checked in on me" to see if I was alright after the incident. This was not the only time she secretly issued warnings to people, usually to defend her friends.

She was "demoted" but in actuality, the entire mod team was restructured and she simply was not on the top rung. Over the next two months many things happened, most of which are not my story to tell, and then it came to light Rachael had even further lied and never issued any warning or otherwise spoke to the person originally being racist in a mod capacity, this person being her friend, and refused to show what messages she did actially send.

To avoid any punishment she tried to "step down" as a mod before a choice could be made. And this was allowed. She was allowed to step down and continue to be in the server with no one knowing the actual story or that she couldn't be trusted and had abused her position.

After an incredibly vague statement was posted by the mod team regarding Rachael no longer being a mod, I broke and posted the conversation publicly and laid out the actual events. This was met with an overwhelming negative backlash, where it became clear to me this was a community where I was not safe, and any poc speaking up and calling for accountability would be seen as malicious and rocking the boat unnecessarily, while the moderators just watched on in silence.

The few moderators who were advocating for the poc server members were promptly fired, and though at one point a timeline vaguely outlining the events was posted, it and all evidence of what happened to me has since been deleted. And while Rachael originally left saying I was obviously trying to run her off the server, she has already returned at the urging of Hann.

Protecting people of colour and standing up to racism and xenophobia was never a priority in the kingergarten mafia server. And now that Hann has escalated to stealing work from people of colour that they have absolutely no right to, I am speaking up.

Respect us, be an ally, or face the consequences of what your community looks like with us gone.

[azullumi]

fatui!scara with a son and his wife? (req)

summary — he had never thought that he would come to that part in his life wherein he has something he wishes to protect more than his heart, more than the ambitions that he hold.

pairing — wanderer or scaramouche/female!reader

tags — fluff, established relationship, domestic life ; headcanons

words — 714

note — hellooooo it seems like my schedule of uploading 1 fic each day is going to be delayed or put on pause for like a few weeks because im in a cultural performance for our school :DD anyways! here, i hope you'll like this anon!

Scaramouche had never thought once in his life that he will be looking forward to something at the end of the day, to have himself giddy and anxious throughout the whole time as he accomplishes his missions or sits behind his desk to do whatever paper he was given. He had never thought that he would come to that part in his life wherein he has something he wishes to protect more than his heart, more than the ambitions that he hold. he had never expected any of your arrival along with a child who has your looks and his personality.

Due to his demanding and busy schedule, usually having to accomplish tasks and missions given to him by the Tsaritsa, you rarely see him come home early and it is only on events that occur once in a blue moon that he will do so. If you ever try to stay up late in order to wait for him, however, he will scold you even if deep down he feels happy. It worries him seeing your tired state, eyes trying to stay open and body threatening to relax to sleep, and it makes him wonder how much you pushed yourself just so you could greet him once he comes home.

Although you frequently sleep with nobody by your side, you wake up with him beside you—either awake and watching you or also still asleep and trying to catch up on the rest that he needs. Occasionally, your son would also join in the bed and would be sleeping in between you two, cuddled and cradled, and when you and Scaramouche are already awake while he’s still unconscious, you’ll stay in bed a little bit longer and talk to each other quietly. It is in those peaceful moments shared in the morning that he forgets all his worries and problems.

He is usually exhausted from his work so he prefers spending time with you sleeping in bed or doing anything together that doesn’t require that much energy. He spends some of his time watching over his son and teaching him about all the things that he has to know, although majority of the time he comes off as intimidating due to his nature and personality—you have to tell him what to do to not scare his own child and to build a proper bond with him because after all, he’s a little bit clumsy and unfamiliar with such relationships and manners.

Even if he’s always away, he tries to always be there especially for his child. He makes an effort through sending letters, buying souvenirs and gifts he got from his trips, spending time with you all as much as possible once he comes home, and many more.

When he’s on his day off or break, he’ll take everyone out to spend time together—mostly in places that don't have that many people as he doesn’t wish for anyone to disturb the only time that he gets to have with his loved ones. Although if you insist and you plead for the three of you to go to a festival or event together, he’ll eventually give in but then of course, he’ll always be on his guard and have people on stand-by on each corner in case something happens. He just can’t afford being too careless.

In order to protect his family, he keeps the fact that he has a family—a wife and a son—as a secret and only close and trusted people know it. After all, he’s a Fatui Harbinger and it’s not uncommon for him to not have enemies so for his beloved ones to be safe, he’ll keep your existences in the dark and have people guarding you at all times when he’s away due to his work.

Oftentimes, he stays up all night while you’re asleep and his child is sleeping beside him and he wonders, thinking and contemplating, if he really deserved to have this kind of happiness after all the misery that he had. You were an escape to his problems, the peace to each of the conflicts that he has, bringing an illusion of serenity to his living of chaos and turmoil and if ever something happens to either of you two, he’ll gladly burn with his hands.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.