#sorry to u if u read these tags all the way

[adieutristana]

Hiiii, i have request for a fem r x jinx, so like r and jinx have known each other alll their lives, maybe r is like sevika's niece or smth close, then when jinx gets adopted by silco, they ontinue to grow close until they become lovers, now you can do whatever you want here, just req that somehow r gets seperated with jinx and joins ekko and the professor breaking into the lab, which led to r joining then in the alt uni, the same time as ekko or maybe earlier, then au!jinx(she's alr r's gf in that au) suddenly gets worried or jealous cause ekko and r suddenly without any reason becomes close and starts spending time together, you can end it however u want, just give us a happy ending!! That's it rllyyy, thank you for reading this req, and it's ok if you can't do it, no pressureee

of course!! thank you for the request <3

this one is pretty long, sorry ^^; i just wanted to include everything and do your request justice

summary; sevika’s niece, jinx’s childhood best friend becomes jinx’s girlfriend. they get separated in the alternate universe, and powder grows jealous.

characters included; jinx, powder (act iii au), sevika (familial), ekko (platonic)

tags/warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, s2 spoilers, idk if sevika has living relatives but we're making up a sibling for the story, mentions of death, arguing, mentions of drinking and smoking, jealous powder

men dni.

sevika has never been great with children. the day you were born, your small form writhing in her brother's arms as you cried, and cried, and cried, sevika didn't know what to do with herself. this was family. sevika was loyal to family. but she just... couldn't deal.

yet as you grew older, she grew used to it. whenever you went to auntie sev's, she pulled out whatever non-alcoholic drink she had for you, pouring it in a stained glass and sitting down opposite you at her table. she'd teach you to play card games- ones appropriate for children, of course. war, go fish, the like. nothing like the blackjack or poker that gave her a thrill under dim lights, but it was honestly... nice, to have this company. even if you were small and still struggling to speak for yourself.

she found herself growing comfortable with you. she had always loved you, had always cared for you. you were her niece. but the fact that you were still learning to navigate the world, learning how to be a person, scared sevika- especially considering the state of the undercity. how was a child supposed to thrive in such a troubled city? how were sevika and her brother supposed to protect you from the harm that inevitably comes everyone's way?

and then, you found a friend. a little girl, no more than a few months older than you, with turquoise hair and warm, sky-blue eyes. powder was her name. a playful, friendly girl who would play tag with you in the alleyways of the lanes. she showed you all of her contraptions, little bombs with scribbled drawings of various animals for faces. handmade. your young mind found this incredible. how could one girl have this much talent?

each day, after your lessons, you'd go to a specific place close to a boarded up, abandoned home in the outskirts of zaun. it became yours and your friend's designated spot. a spot where powder would train, punching and kicking at the air with a wide grin, you sitting and observing. a spot where she’d sit down and whistle her favorite songs painfully out of tune. a spot where you shared secrets, talked about her adventures with her siblings, and you shared your frustrations about stupid homework. you'd brag about how cool your auntie sevika was.

"she's just so strong! and she can fight off anyone. she plays games with me, and she helps me with my reading work. even if it's hard."

powder's eyes would widen, and she'd nod enthusiastically.

"really? she sounds awesome! maybe i'll get to fight like her one day..."

"why can't you?"

and then powder would grumble, her eyes flickering down as she folded her hands in her lap.

"my sister doesn't think i'm ready. she says i'm not experienced enough."

she makes air quotes when she says 'experienced enough,' huffing and rolling her eyes. you'd reach out to squeeze her shoulder, trying to give any kind of comfort. you weren't the best at offering consolation, but you could at least do this for her.

when powder came to that same spot a mere few weeks later, she was bursting at the seams with excitement. she couldn't stay still, and as soon as the girl saw you, she bolted in your direction. throwing her arms around you and squealing. you were confused- but powder was clearly happy, possibly the happiest you'd ever seen her. so you wrapped your arms around her in return. she pulled her face back, blue eyes sparkling.

"vi finally said i'm ready. i'm going on a job, tomorrow! topside! it's gonna be a good one."

powder was positively beaming, and you could only smile. you tried to find the words for a moment, although you were ecstatic for her.

"really? that's awesome!"

"mhm! she said she's gonna take me with the others, and i can help!"

powder heard violet's voice calling for her from the end of the alley, seemingly having searched for her. she looked back at you.

"i'll see you soon, okay?"

then, radio silence.

you visited your usual spot a few times after that, your heart wrenching in your chest upon seeing the spot powder usually occupied empty. you had heard rumors swirling around of powder being caught after her job, her sister growing angry. yet, you didn't want to believe it. powder was your best friend, she was amazing! there was nothing the girl couldn't do.

but it was true. your best friend, powder, didn't pull it off. an arrest. an explosion. what caused it? what happened to powder?

it was driving your mind wild, pulling you in different directions and eating at your insides. you asked around, other children of zaun, but each one ignored you, shook their head, shrugged, muttered a quiet 'i don't know.' it was killing you.

that was, until the next time you visited your aunt. you sat down at her dining table, cheap leather peeling off of the seat. uneven legs, heightening your fear of toppling over any time you shifted. sevika brewed coffee instead of lighting her usual cigar, her back turned to you as she slowly moved through the kitchen.

"hey, aunt sev?"

you asked, voice unsure. shaking.

"huh?"

she responded, her back still turned to you.

"you know my friend, powder. you've met her, haven't you?" you saw sevika pause, leaning over to brace her hands on the edge of the counter. "she's kinda... missing. do you know what happened?"

"i do."

she responded, tone blunt with a sharp edge. you winced at this, you knew just how scary your aunt could be if provoked. but you cared too much for powder, this was too important-

"she's with silco and i. he took her in. she's a problem."

"a problem?"

your heart sunk in your chest. god, how could your best friend be a problem?

"yes. she's distracting silco, but he insists that she'll be an asset."

"please, sev, tell me m-"

the woman turned her back and slammed an empty mug onto the table.

"i'm not talking about this anymore."

✧.*

the day after your seventeenth birthday was when you found powder- ‘jinx,’ they now called her. a dark alleyway in the outermost of zaun, not far off from your spot just a few years prior. you’d begun taking morning walks to clear your head of all the bullshit that came with being a young girl in the middle of a troubled city- one with a close relative who worked for silco of all people. to get the swirling anxiety, political unrest, friends disappearing left and right, all of it- out of your damn mind.

you’d experimented with walking routes, going through the lanes, through some of the highest roads in zaun, but none were quite as… peaceful as the outskirts. much more nature, less people, more tranquil than any other area. your head hung low, hands in your pocket, gaze on the ground. whistling.

you would recognize that sound anywhere. the same song powder used to always whistle, you heard it again. the tone was a bit deeper, a bit more raspy, but god, it had to be her. your head shot up, eyes darting around for the source of the song. busted windows, trash cans… blue braids.

your feet moved quicker than your mind could. you ran to the girl, breathless, throwing your arms around her.

and then she pushed you off of her, your back hitting the ground.

“powder- powder, what the fuck?! you don’t remember me?”

she stood over you, breath heaving, blue eyes boring directly through you. searching for any sign of danger or betrayal, studying your features…

“oh. oh.”

“powder, please-”

the girl yanked you up by your shoulders and got onto her knees, immediately pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. long nails dug into the fabric of your top.

“it’s jinx now.”

oh. oh god. you’d heard that name before. the name of a master criminal in the making, under the watchful eye of silco. his prodégé, his daughter. she had been powder, this entire time? under your nose for years, and you had no idea?

you wrapped your arms back around her, tentative, so scared to break her. the way she flinched told you all you needed to know.

“po-jinx, it’s okay… you’re okay…”

she only held you, her chin resting on your shoulder.

"a lot has changed."

"i know. but it's okay." you pause. "are you busy?"

jinx has her hands resting on your shoulders, pulling back the same way that she did the day before her job.

"no... no, not right now. why?"

the corner of your lips tug into a gentle smile.

"we have some catching up to do."

✧.*

the first thing jinx did was drag you around her newfound hideout. slim floors of metal with a seemingly endless drop below them, and a lack of railings. anxiety peaked as you walked through her home, but it was... charming. black lights paired with bright, colorful graffiti enhancing each surface. her face lit up as she showed you each of her handmade weapons.

you remembered the young powder with a single braid and defected color bombs, but these..? these were fully functioning explosives and assault weapons. god, where did she learn to do this?

"hey, whatcha thinking about?"

you're pulled out of your thoughts by one of jinx's fingers poking at your forehead. her blue eyes fixed on you...

"nothing. just... this is different."

jinx swings a leg over her seat at her workbench, picking up... a blowtorch?

"well, yeah. i told you things changed."

she quips, so nonchalant. how could she be so calm about her new lifestyle? it was such a drastic change, yet you couldn't help but... admire it. the environment surrounding you was a direct reflection of the person your friend had become. pilties feared her, zaunites revered her. to be able to make such a name for herself and have the unwavering sense of justice jinx had at such a young age was incredible to you.

god, jinx. she had really been staring you in the face for all of these years.

"tell me more.”

you said, slowly settling down beside her, bracing your elbows on the cold metal.

“oh, where to start?” she grinned. “well, right now i’m doing a lot in the way of enforcers and firelights. inventing, and all that. blowing stuff up.”

she giggled, not looking at you for a second. her thin hands held one of the very blue crystals a young powder held as if a precious amulet.

“and what about silco?”

“silco? he’s great! he’s always believed in me, said i’m smart and i can do whatever i put my mind to. he thinks i’m perfect.”

she hums, continuing to tinker away. your heart sinks the slightest bit. although silco was definitely a symbol of the undercity, he was feared. it just didn’t sit right with you. for him to have somebody like jinx in his grasp was frightening, but if she turned out relatively okay in the end, it was fine… right?

“oh, and sevika’s an ass.”

“my aunt?”

jinx turns to you suddenly, lifting her goggles off her face.

“since when is sevika your aunt?”

“…since i was born?”

you reply, raising an eyebrow… the same way sevika does with jinx. she folds over in a fit of laughter, her forehead on the workbench-

“oh, oh gods! that’s too good. how did i not know?”

✧.*

october 10.

jinx’s birthday.

jinx’s eighteenth birthday.

being slightly younger than her, you didn’t know exactly what was appropriate for an eighteenth birthday celebration. you were never good at birthdays to begin with. but you had to think, think. this is for jinx.

you’d grown accustomed to her new lifestyle, the mischief that followed her everywhere she went. whether she always found trouble or trouble always found her, you were unsure, but one thing was for certain: she had grown into one of the most badass women you’ve ever met. becoming close with her again, stepping into her shoes and experiencing a taste of jinx’s world, it was almost as if nothing had changed. in terms of your friendship, at least. she would still talk about her sister (although their relationship was less than ideal now), show you her contraptions, and whistle her favorite songs.

except for when you noticed your affections for jinx becoming something more than what was appropriate for friends.

curse you, curse you for falling for your childhood best friend. that was what you kept telling yourself. how could you fall for someone you had considered your best friend for so long? the thought of losing jinx again over something as trivial as a crush made your heart ache.

so you repressed it.

you repressed the way that your heart skipped a beat when she inched closer to you on her workbench.

you repressed the way her smile brought a swarm of butterflies to your stomach.

you repressed the way you wished to call her late at night just to hear her voice.

you repressed the way those blue eyes could make you give in to anything.

but that’s not important. no. what’s important is decorating jinx’s hideout while she’s out on a job for her birthday and throwing together a cake. pink and blue banners, big balloons with the number ‘18,’ crude paper-mache iterations of her monkey bombs, and making a gift.

you were hunched over your desk for hours trying to make her a charm bracelet, representative of your history. scrap metal from crushed cans, pliers, discarded chains, and acrylic paint could take you further than you expected. a mouse, for mouser. a blue ball, for her crystals. a can of spray paint. a bomb. a monkey. all little charms representative of what made jinx jinx.

did you burn yourself? yes. did you have to bandage yourself from getting cut by thin metal? also yes. but it was for her.

and a card. you decided in the days leading up to jinx’s birthday that you had to tell her somehow how you felt. it was eating up at you from the inside out.

when jinx arrived to her hideout, kicking the door open, it took a moment for her to notice that anything was different. somehow the streamers, candles, and smell of cake didn’t give it away, but she quickly strode over to you with the same jump in her step as always.

“heya t-”

and she finally noticed. glancing around at the handmade decorations on her workbench and the balloons, the pink and blue icing on her cake…

“oh. oh wow.”

she chuckled, in mild disbelief.

“wow, all of this for little ol’ me?”

you nodded, body tense with anticipation and anxiety. you knew the second she opened that card, everything would change. she sighed in that playful way she always did, and put her hands on her hips.

“okay. where to start?”

she glanced over the workbench. the cake, card, and small wrapped gift.

“well, it’s only right to start with the card.”

she sat down, and unceremoniously began tearing the envelope open at the top with her fingernails. not even using the flap in the back. you should’ve expected as much. she finally gets through to the card and looks at the front- a drawing of the two of you sat side by side.

“oh, this is cute!”

she beamed, and eagerly flipped the card open, and that’s when you saw blue eyes beginning to scan over the words inside.

“powder, rather jinx, i’m sorry that this is so sudden. eighteen is a big feat. you’re grown! and i’m proud of everything you’ve done. all the progress you’ve made for zaun, and all of the things you’ve come over. you’re a strong, smart, wonderful girl. but i need you to know that i’ve had feelings for you for a while now, and i can’t keep ignoring them. meeting you again and getting to know the person you’ve become has been one of the best experiences of my life. i wish i could spend those days alongside you as your girlfriend.

if you want to throw this card away and forget about it, i won’t be mad. just think about what i said.

-your best friend.”

her eyes scanned over the paper. again, and again, and again. did she really have to read it so many times? her brows furrowed, then raised, then furrowed again, before she glanced up at you.

“you… mean this?”

you let out a shaky breath.

“of course i mean it, jinx.”

you then felt thin, yet strong arms thrown around you and a head buried into your chest.

“i thought i was crazy…”

she murmurs, voice muffled by the thick fabric of your top. her tone is softer than usual, a side of her you’ve grown to realize is reserved for you only.

“crazy how?”

“crazy because i feel the same way.”

did the world stop?

was time hanging over your head?

“oh, god- jinx, you’re serious?”

you laughed, returning her embrace with tears pricking at your eyes. she squeezed you even tighter to her, beginning to pepper little kisses all over your face- no doubt leaving stains in their wake.

“ah! you still have a gift to open, jinx!”

you were mockingly protesting. in truth, you felt like you were floating.

“don’t care!”

✧.*

shortly after jinx’s own, your nineteenth birthday came and passed with jinx clinging to your arm. a day of being dragged through zaun tagging walls together, your girlfriend presenting you with a barely-edible cake, and rushed kisses on her couch.

which sevika walked in on.

regardless, you woke up to the sound of jinx’s deep breathing, close to your ear. still sleeping, her ear right up against the left side of your chest. you’d noticed she liked listening to your heartbeat, especially during late nights together. the first and only time you asked about it, she just said, ‘it’s relaxing.’ if anything could relax jinx, you’d do it.

you couldn’t move, not yet. you could only look down at the sleeping girl on top of you, snoring like an old man. if it were anybody else, you’d have stopped sharing a bed a long time ago. but jinx was kind of… endearing.

“mm… what time is it, toots?”

you heard her grumble.

“uh…” you moved your wrist from under her to glance at your wristwatch. “11:20.”

“ugh… it’s too early.”

“too early?”

“yes! i need to sleep more… five more minutes.”

one of jinx’s classic lies. but you let her, regardless, because who were you to deny a little longer of the girl you loved clinging to you? your free hand came to her lower back, your thumb rubbing gentle circles over soft skin.

“okay. then while you’re here, i need to tell you something.”

“mm… go ‘head.”

there was no easy way to put this, but you had to spit it out.

"i'm going to topside later. going to jayce's lab with ekko and the professor. they said there was something... important i needed to see. something about hextech."

with this, jinx's eyes fluttered open, looking up at you. thick brows furrowed.

"why?"

"something about hextech."

you repeated yourself. she grumbled.

"why d'you have to be the one to do it?"

your eyes widened for a moment. damn. you weren't sure how to answer this question, exactly. why did it have to be you? clearly, jinx wasn't asked about it if this is the first time she's hearing about it. but you knew it was important enough if you, a relatively ordinary citizen of zaun were asked to accompany heimerdinger and his newest student.

"i... i don't know. but it's important enough. i'll be a few hours tops, okay? a few hours, then i'll come back and be right here when you're ready to sleep. we can be just like-"

you pointed to her head still laying directly over your heart,

"this, again tonight."

jinx grumbled, slowly pulling herself away from your chest, bringing herself to loom over you. unkempt blue braids on either side of your face, rosy eyes locked on yours.

"fine. but you better be back when you say you'll be."

you reached up to place your hands on pale cheeks, tracing your thumbs underneath her eyes, still heavy with sleep.

"i'll be back before you know it, baby. it'll be like i never even left."

✧.*

the lab. the lab.

that's the last place you can remember being before waking up with a gasp. you felt as if you got a punch directly to the stomach, body reeling with the aftershocks of... something. all you could do was heave, pant, use your hands to brace yourself against a... bedside table? desperately trying to find some kind of support.

you slowly gain your composure. your breath coming to you in short gasps, as your eyes finally manage to scan your surroundings. a bedside table, a full-sized bed with blue sheets, a bookshelf with various travel guides and science textbooks scattered about. a corkboard on the wall, with photos of... you? and somebody else.

you stumble over the corkboard, slowly lifting your gaze. photo strips from photo booths hang on the board, as well as post-it notes with scribbled drawings. the pictures are of you, and a girl. a girl who, upon closer inspection, looks almost exactly like jinx. but not quite. her eyes didn't have those bags you'd grown accustomed to, and her face seemed fuller. she had a wide grin or silly expression plastered onto her face in almost every picture. the jinx you knew hated her picture being taken.

this girl's hair also was chopped to her shoulders. jinx kept her hair so long she had learned how to not trip over it. a gentle breeze sweeps the room, and the air is... more clear. not as overwhelming as the usual pollution of zaun. you think you can manage a deep breath in without feeling any side effects.

"there you are, silly!"

you hear from behind you. you snap your head over your shoulder with a gasp, and it's the girl from the pictures. oh, god.

she sets down a box on the bed, a few bolts spilling out from the cushion of the mattress.

"heh, whoops."

she chuckles, placing both hands on her hips. she really does look exactly like jinx. blue hair strung up into messy space buns and a little pink streak. that's new. you glance around at the room once again, noticing the corkboard. a drawing of you and the girl on a yellow post-it, with "POWDER" scribbled beneath it.

powder?

"what... what is this?"

you manage to breathe out. the girl- powder, strides over to you and wraps her arms around your shoulders from behind.

"only materials for my next big project! i told you about this. remember?"

she giggles, voice playing directly next to your ear. a chaste kiss to your cheek and a bubbly girl holding you. you raise an eyebrow, looking back at her. your shoulders tense, eyes blown wide. how could this have happened? didn't powder adopt the identity of jinx after that job?

"this is what happens when you pull a double two days in a row. i know you need the extra time, babe, but you're exhausted."

powder pinches your cheek between her forefinger and thumb. that same playful smile unwavering.

"come on, we've still got a lot to do today. we're talking some stuff over with benzo, remember?"

benzo? the benzo whose corpse you saw?

"i... okay. just give me a minute to freshen up."

you make your way down the hall to a bathroom. this place was set up like a goddamned labyrinth, but you managed. you look at yourself in the mirror.. your clothes seemed nicer. more tailor-fit. your skin was more clear, almost no blemishes or scars. your hair was a bit longer, you still had split ends- guess you could never be bothered to trim those in any world. but... this was different. you huff, deciding to cut your losses and just go to this meeting you apparently had planned.

as soon as you arrive to the last drop, it's like being flashbanged. your eyes widen at how much more bright the place seems. new booths and tables, it seems as if it's been recently renovated for the sake of modernity. and then you noticed vander.

you knew how much vander's loss affected jinx. she talked fondly of him often, but you could tell the fact that he was no longer here was killing jinx, no matter how much time had passed since that day. yet, here he was in the flesh, chatting away with a customer behind the bar as if nothing had happened. had anything happened?

"oh, oh my god. you're here. do you know what happened?"

your body jutted forward and you snapped your head around, your first instinct being to shove whoever was behind you. but you didn't thankfully. ekko.

"you're here too? shit, i don't know, i just- i woke up, and i was here, and everything's different, and everyone is acting different."

you muttered, beginning to pace around. the boy in front of you seemed stunned, shaking his head in disbelief.

"you don't know anything?"

"i'm just as confused as you are, ekko."

"sorry! ran a little late. you know how the streets get this time of day."

you heard from behind you, powder carrying a brown messenger bag.

"...jinx?"

powder just quirked an eyebrow, one of her signature confused expressions. she shakes her head, brushing off the fact and makes her way toward the bar. benzo's sat on one of the stools, waiting.

you shoot a glance in ekko's direction, mouthing 'sorry.'

✧.*

the second the meeting is over, you grab ekko by the arm and pull him into an alleyway behind the last drop. you sigh, letting his arm go, and he's visibly peeved.

"what the hell?!"

"i'm sorry, ekko, i just... this is all so weird. apparently powder never became jinx, and benzo is alive, and so are vander and silco and things just seem so... nice. i keep telling myself it isn't real, but i'm not waking up from whatever the fuck this is."

ekko looks down, his hand pressing into the spot below his eyebrows. he shakes his head.

"i talked to heimerdinger earlier. he said this is some kind of parallel universe. no hextech, so there's not a good chance of us getting back."

you swore you could've felt your stomach drop. oh no.

"how is there no hextech? are you serious?"

"i wouldn't lie about this."

"fuck. fuck."

you're tangling your hands in your hair, once again finding yourself pacing back and forth. the alleyway is clear aside from a few palettes and trash cans, yourself and ekko being the only occupying presence.

"we're trying to figure something out, together. but it's going to take a while."

your feet still, and you take a deep breath in. your lips press into a thin line. you don't exactly have it in you to be patient right now, but did you have another option?

"shit. okay. it's not like i've got any better ideas."

ekko sighs, his shoulders dropping. you glance over to him, and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in an effort to reassure him.

"i'll try and think of something, too. just keep me updated, okay?"

ekko gives you a small grin and nods.

"i will. it'll be alright- let's hope, at least."

your eyes wander over to the last drop's back door, and it's cracked open, with powder looking out.

shit. how long has she been there?

you walked to your apartment side-by-side with powder, but she seemed so... tense. she didn't look at you much during the walk back, which made you a bit fearful. she was so chipper just an hour or two ago, what happened?

you swung open the door after taking a few tries to find the correct key, something powder also noticed. thankfully, she didn't mention it, or you'd have a difficult time explaining.

you stepped in, taking off your jacket and dropping it on the arm of a leather couch. one that wasn't peeling.

"so, when did you and ekko get so close again?"

she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. this may not be jinx, but she has the same facial expressions. she thinks you're hiding something.

"huh? we've always been friends."

"you guys fell out two weeks ago and you swore you'd never talk to him again."

oh shit.

"you don't remember? i mean... i guess it makes sense, i thought it was just a misunderstanding. you're usually the one to talk things out."

huh? you and ekko were never particularly close, but you'd never had a falling out. shit, everything really was different here.

"yeah... uh, yeah. we made up."

you say, hoping to whatever was out there that she wouldn't catch onto the fact you didn't have a damn clue what she was talking about.

"huh."

she huffs, clearly unconvinced.

"what, powder? come on, you've gotta talk to me."

"ugh- that doesn't explain why you were touching him like that!"

she snaps, her voice raising, yet not quite yelling. the look in her eyes, she looks as if she's genuinely been betrayed.

"i.. what? i was touching his shoulder, powder."

"yeah, and yesterday you were resting against it. what next, you'll be kissing his neck?"

were you really? god dammit, you had no way of knowing what this other version of you was doing before-

"no! powder, no. i... i'm sorry. but you have to believe me, we're friends. we were discussing something important to us."

she rolls her eyes, tapping her foot against the ground.

"come on. i respect your privacy, i trust you to not cheat, but you've got to ease up on him. rather, he has to ease up on you."

"powder, nothing's happening."

she sighs, her head hanging down in defeat.

"you promise?"

"i promise you."

powder slowly steps closer to you, shaky hands slowly coming to cup both of your cheeks.

"i just don't want anything to happen between us, okay? things are good."

"they are. but nothing will happen."

as... unfamiliar as this is, this version of powder, this supposed life of yours, you couldn't deny that it was welcoming. in some ways, it was a lot better than the world you came from. the overrun streets of zaun, the political unrest of piltover, thousands addicted to shimmer and more friends dead than alive. you could get used to this, but you wouldn't.

you suppose it wouldn't be so bad to indulge yourself until ekko figured something out, though.

"hey. you still like wearing braids in your hair, don't you?"

powder hums, pursing her lips.

"uh... i haven't worn one since i was a kid, but sure."

you sigh, and gently take both of her hands in yours.

"come on. i'll do some twin braids on you, braid pink ribbon into your hair. does that sound alright?"

powder seems to perk up at this, blue eyes going wide.

"ribbons?"

"yeah. you've got that pink streak going on."

"oh... okay. sure. knock yourself out."

she squeezes your hands, smiling.

[jweekgoji]

psst

if u have time pls do a continuation of the Yandere d-16 and reader but somehow he finds the reader when he’s Megatron and this time HE tops

Yandere!Megatron/Reader [TFO]

tw: ROBOTS sexxx (minors don't read please), possesive behavior, mentions of jealousy, brief violence/threats, biting, word count: ~1,2k additional tags: dom!Megatron, sub!reader, decepticon!reader, idol!reader, cybertronian!reader. a/n: it's not like /megs/ finds reader here but the other way around (ig) hehe.

The news of the sudden death of Sentinel Prime had reached you suddenly. Another ordinary, simple day, as it seemed back then. You were used to living in comfort and coziness, after all, from the moment you were born, you were special. At least, you couldn't help but feel that way in a privileged society.

Now, thinking about it, a feeling of pity and wrongness overwhelms your thoughts. It was no surprise that those who were unlucky enough to be born with t-cog had no choice but to dedicate their entire existence for the greater good of your entire race.

Standing humbly behind the decepticon leader's back, you only gave a silent glance in his direction. How much had he managed to endure? What exactly did he have witnessed that day when he went from an obedient and shy D-16 to...

“Why are you still here?” a deep, gravelly voice suddenly yanked you out of your thoughts.

For a moment, you didn't know what to answer. Was it that important? No, you never noticed him asking the same question to the others.

“To fight alongside you, Megatron,” you quickly replied, your arms kept hidden behind your back, like a well-trained soldier.

A soft, almost inaudible huff escaped from his lips as he shook his helm in mild frustration. He slowly turned around to bore his own red optics into yours. Weren't they orange? You didn't recall.

“That's not what I asked you,” Megatron narrowed his optics, his gaze still as stern. “You know what I'm talking about.”

You tilted your helm down, as if in submission or simply unable to maintain eye contact with him. Either way, an ominous feeling of regret continued to grow inside you, despite how often you tried convincing yourself that it was never your fault.

Funny, isn't it? It seemed like a while ago, here were the two of you right next to each other. His smaller, so small but never fragile frame, was so tender in your servos.

The chassis was completely tarnished in little bruises and scratches, yet it was always a pleasure to gently run your servo over the surface of the silver metal, feeling how the mech beneath you could only bite his fist in a desperate attempt to not make a single sound.

But now, everything seems so different, strange perhaps, but at the same time in its own way familiar. Above you now is a different person; to deny that would be foolish, if not pointless.

The frame is wider, much bigger, than you can remember. The chassis is now peppered with a lot of scars after numerous battles in which you can only feel sorry for every opponent he's faced. All stained in energon, the pink liquid slowly oozing out to smear your own frame. You know it doesn't belong to him.

“Mine, you're all mine,” his servo tightening around your wrists, pinning them both above your helm.

Megatron's heavy breathing made a pleasant shiver run along your spine, and almost instinctively, you pressed your hips against his own.

Everything felt so hot now, so suffocating, that you were barely hanging on to keep from passing out. His chassis only pressed you down further, taking away any chance you had of escaping.

You wish you could tell him so much now. That now, all in his power, you would have never dared to leave him at a moment like this. You would take whatever he would choose to give you, even though he was still inexperienced with controlling his own power.

The thoughts of the past fight gave Megatron no relief. It seemed that the more he focused on the past, the more he wanted to lash out with all of his pent-up anger at you. And you would take it, wouldn't you? You'd always come back and beg for more.

His servo squeezes your thigh, stroking and massaging, then, moves only lower to forcefully spread your legs. Your interface panel was open long ago, presenting him your soaking wet port. Getting off on this as much as he is, what a freaking pathetic duo you both are. That is why you have always been perfect for him, he thinks.

With a rough thrust, Megatron buries his spike inside you to a halt; the way you squeeze around him, writhing in pain and pleasure, is a godlike sight for him. Primus, he should have done that a long, long time ago. If only he wasn't so meek and weak-willed back then, but now he's thankful for it.

He lets out a low, guttural growl as he slams his hips against yours once again, receiving a soft whine. A small, still sensible part of him restrains himself to ruin your body more. That deep-rooted care and desire, genuine love, still makes him act all soft with you. It tells him to leave more kisses, to shower you in that love and care he grew for you for cycles from only observing.

Megatron grits his teeth at the thought. Acting soft and weak already cost him enough suffering in the past. Making the same mistakes again will only show off how little he changed since that day...

He tastes the energon on his glossa, leaving a cold, wet trail of saliva on your neck, only to be followed by a sudden bite, which makes you gasp in surprise.

It was a miracle that no one had entered the room by that time, with none of you trying to hide your gasps and moans from the potential listeners. Perhaps, they already found out; even Starscream, with how often he comes here to complain and grumble about everything, doesn't dare to bother Megatron at the moment of raw need, adrenaline rushing through the whole frame.

Your soft moans are music to Megatron's mind. Every single time you let out his name, breathlessly asking for more, only makes him pepper your neck in wet kisses, more of those bleeding marks forever marking your body. That is how it should be, how it always should have been. You underneath him, so beautiful and perfect, and the most important, this way everyone will know that you are his.

He had grown tired of competing for your attention since when he was a miner. Every day of hard work, daydreaming about you, of you finally noticing him instead of attending another race, with countless of other Iaconians showing their love for you. He would not make any more mistakes.

His, his and only.

“If you ever think of leaving me,” Megatron leans his helm closer to you, burying your face into the crook of your neck. “I will find and kill you with my own servos.”

What you said to him that day never left the mind of the leader of the decepticons. And it seemed that from that moment on, your relationship with each other took on a very different direction.y

Who knew that the threat of your own execution by no one else, but Megatron, would sound so hot to you?

[livi008]

(mood board by me)

Under the mistletoe

Pairing: shy Bucky Barnes x oblivious reader

Category: fluff; holiday season romance

Word count: around 9k

Warnings: none

a/n: merry Christmas my darlings! And happy Hanukkah (only to my non-zionist baddies). So, this is my first published fan fiction so any constructive criticism or tips would be greatly appreciated. Also, just so I can be completely transparent: this is an original thought. I’ve been working on this for months and I was waiting to release it on Christmas. Any similarities to any other creations in this app is completely unintentional by my part and if needed, I will credit the writers below. Anyways, that’s all! I home you enjoy! Happy reading cuties! 🎄❄️🥂🤍

Edit: so sorry, I forgot to tag where I got the divider, here it is

(here is a cozy song if u like reading with music ;) )

The compound’s kitchen smelled like Christmas — warm spices, melted chocolate, and the unmistakable aroma of cookies fresh out of the oven. You slid a tray onto the counter, the cookies golden and steaming as you transferred them carefully to a themed bowl.

Behind you, a heavy tread signaled a well known soldier entering the kitchen.. You turned around just in time to catch Bucky Barnes reaching for one of the still-hot cookies..

‘’Hey! No, James!” you scolded, swatting his hand away with a dish towel. “First of all, they’re still hot— you’ll burn yourself. And second, these are for the. *whole* team. You need to learn to share.”

Bucky froze mid-reach, your words sending an unexpected flutter through his chest. James. No one called him that anymore— not since the forties. But coming from you, it didn’t feel odd. It felt…. Grounding. Comforting.

“Fine,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re the boss, doll.”

Satisfied, you turned back to the counter, preparing the next batch, missing the way Bucky lingered, his gaze softening as he watched you work. When the cookies had cooled enough, you grabbed one and handed it to him.

“Here, now you can try one. Carefully.”

Bucky took a cautious bite, his brows lifting in surprise. “These are… really good..” He chewed thoughtfully before adding, ‘Haven’t had these since… well, before.”

You grinned, leaning against the counter. “Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we? I’ll start making you more baked goods.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, the corners of his ears turning a slight shade of pink. “That just sounds like you’re trying to make me fat..”

“And you can afford it,” you quipped back, your teasing grin making his heart skip a beat.

The moment lingers, Bucky still caught in the warmth of your smile, but the spell is broken by Sam’s voice booms from the hallway. “Hey! If those cookies are gone by the time they get here, Im coming for both of you!”

You laugh, grabbing the bowl and heading for the door. “Cmon, James, let’s share these before Sam stages a full-on revolt.”

Bucky trails behind you, his steps slow, his gaze lingering on the back of your head as the scent of cookies— and you— fills the air. But as the two of you reach the doorway, you both move to pass through at the same time—and collide.

‘’Oh!” You exclaim, nearly loosing your balance, but Bucky steadies you with a hand at your waist. The contact sends heat rushing to his face, but before you can even process it, you glance up.

“Would you look at that,” you say with a grin, pointing upward. A sprig of mistletoe hangs above the doorway. Completely oblivious to Bucky’s internal spiral, you lean up and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, James!” you chirp, the twinkle in your eyes as bright as the lights strung through the compound. Then, just like that, you slip past him, disappearing down the hall.

Bucky remains frozen in place, the spot where your lips touched burning like a brand.

His thoughts where a whirlwind as he stood rooted at the doorway. The warmth of your kiss lingered on his cheek, making him feel more alive than he had in decades. His hand instinctively brushed the spot, as if to capture the fleeting moment forever.

But before he could linger too long, a familiar voice snapped him out of his reverie.

“Yo, Barnes! You coming, or are you just gonna stand there looking like you’ve seen a ghost?” Sam’s teasing tone echoed from the common area.

Bucky blinked, forcing himself to move. Yeah, yeah.. Im coming.” He muttered, his voice low, though the tint creeping up his neck betrayed him..

As he finally follows you into the living room, the chaos of decorating being at full swing brins him back to reality.

The common room had been transformed into a holiday haven. Twinkling lights draped over every surface, garlands framed the window, and the faint sound of Sam’s playlist of outdated Christmas hits played on repeat from a speaker in the corner. The team scattered around, each person taking charge of a different task.

Thor wrestled with stringing lights onto the tree— though ‘’wrestled” was a good understatement, as the god of thunder had somehow managed to tangle himself in the wires. Steve was carefully hanging stockings on the fireplace mantel with Tony, while Sam was perched on a stepladder, complaining about having to adjust the same strand of lights for the third time.

You arrived with the cookies just as Natasha was helping Clint untangle a knot of ribbon. The smell of fresh baked goods immediately caught everyone’s attention.

“Alright troops! Cookie break!” you announced, setting the bowl of cookies on the coffee table.

The team descended like vultures, but not before you swatted Sam’s hand with a mock-stern glare. “Save some for the others, Wilson.”

Across the room, Bucky hovered near the Christmas tree, his hands busy themselves with a silver ornament he’d already adjusted three times. But his focus wasn’t on the decorations— it was on you. From the way you moved to the sound of your laugh, you were a force of warmth and light in the room, and Bucky found himself completely captivated.

‘’Y’know, Barnes,” Natasha’s voice slid into his thoughts like a needle popping a bubble, low enough for only him to hear, “if you keep staring like that, your face will be brighter than the tree.”

Bucky’s hand faltered, the silver ornament he was holding almost slipping from his fingers. “I wasn’t staring,” he muttered, his voice gruff, though the flush that creeping up his neck told a different story.

Natasha smirked, her gaze flicking from him to you. “Right. And the way your cheeks match that Santa hat dangling ogg Thor’s hammer is just a coincidence.”

Bucky sighed, letting his forehead rest briefly against the tree’s branches. Natasha’s teasing felt relentless, but she wasn’t wrong. The mistletoe incident earlier had been a turning point, and now, every time he looked at you, his heart ached in the best way possible.

“Just tell her,” Natasha added, her tone softening. “You’re gonna regret it if you don’t”

After the cookie break, everyone does back to decorating. You move closer to Bucky, handing him a box of ornaments to hang on the tree.

“Here, James. Since you’re already an expert ornament fixer.” you tease, your grin making his ears turn pink again.

“I wasn’t… fixing it,” he mumbles, but you laugh lightly brushing past him to hang a strand of tinsel.

Natasha watches the two of you with a knowing smile, nudging Sam. “Fifty bucks says he makes a move before the night’s over.”

“Not a chance,” Sam replies, crossing his arms.

The teams chatter fills the room, but Bucky is barely aware of it. His focus remains on you, your laugh, the way you effortlessly light up the room.

As the last ornaments were hung and tinsel draped, the team began to scatter— Thor and Clint collapsing onto the couch with mugs of cocoa, Sam and Tony arguing over who had the worse Santa suit from last year, and Natasha… well, Natasha didn’t scatter. She stayed rooted across the room, shooting Bucky knowing glances that only made hi, feel more cornered.

Bucky sighed, his fingers brushing the edge of a stray ornament. His mind was made up before he even realized it.. Nat was right. If he didn’t say something tonight, he knew he’d regret it. His gaze landed on you again, now humming quietly as you gathered your things in the kitchen.

He steeled himself. Now or never.

You’re mindlessly humming to one of Sam’s catchy Christmas classics when you feel hands gently settle around your waist. Before you can react, you’re spun around, and the world blurs for just a moment before James Buchanan Barnes is standing in front of you, his gaze intense yet tender.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s sweet and warm, sending a thrill through your chest.

When he pulls away, his smirk is soft yet mischievous. “Merry Christmas, doll,’’ he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though his eyes betray just how much this moment means to him. Then, without waiting for a response, he strides down the hall, leaving you breathless and flushed, completely dazed by surprise and excitement from what the new year might bring for yours and Bucky’s relationship.

Bonus: as Bucky walks off, he takes confident steps and doesn’t look back. But as soon as he turns a corner, his confident steps falter, as he stops, resting a hand against the wall as he takes deep breaths. HIs heart feels like it’s about to leap out of his chest. He runs a hand through his hair, his lips still tingling from yours, when a familiar voice snaps him out of his daze.

“Told you they would get together.” Natasha drawls, step out of the shadows with a victorious smirk.

Sam groans, pulling out a fifty-dollar bill and slapping it into her hand. “Man, couldn’t keep it in your pants till the party ended, could you Bucky?”

Steve chuckles softly, shaking his head as he watches his best friend fumble with his flustered grin. “It was bound to happen eventually,” he says, his tone laced with affection.

[scionshtola]

i’ve been very bad about reblogging pals stuff lately bc i deleted the tumblr app bc i was feeling bad and then when i was feeling better i was like i will not redownload the app and that will force me to do work. and it did not. but i hate reblogging from the browser

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: in which he realizes you were the one for him

warnings: none i think !

wc: 1100

Hoshina wasn't a player. He wasn't one to say yes to everyone who came his way nor was he one to lightly pursue just about anyone who slightly interested him— not to mention he didn’t fall easily to begin with. He was a busy man in a dangerous line of work so having a relationship simply didn’t make sense most of the time.

However, this is not to say he hasn’t had a few relationships here and there. He loved those he dated, he really did. He did not believe in dating for the fun of it nor did he believe in starting a relationship he knew would end at some point, but subconsciously he tried not to get attached. He kept his distance and locked away his heart to keep from getting hurt. Was it unfair? Well yes, but he was scared. Everyone has something that terrifies them greatly, this just so happened to be Hoshina’s.

Yet, recently he could tell that something was different with you. It had only been a few months since you started dating, but he feared the shift in his feelings. He knew what it was— he knew very well, but as soon as he admitted it, it would be over. There’d be no going back for him. He knew he was being rather irrational, he knew that if he sat down and confronted these emotions he’d realize they weren’t that big of a deal, but he couldn’t. He’s never been able to.

However, while fighting this kaiju, it became plain obvious that he was simply in denial. 

It upset him how important you were to him, but more than that it upset him that he knew he was important to you. You had made it so painfully clear that he meant the absolute world to you and that broke him to pieces every single time.

To him it was easy being alone— he just had to make sure his job was complete before he died. If he could ensure everyone’s safety or at least help Mina out, there was nothing more he wished for. Yet while fighting Kaiju no. 10 today, when he saw his life flash before his eyes, his immediate thought was of you. If he died you’d cry. And that alone was going to get him home alive.

He’d rather die than make you cry. Especially not alone.

As he stood up again, he could see his blood dripping from his wounds and immediately it made him chuckle. You’d cry anyways when you see the state he’s in. 

I’ll have to be around to wipe your tears at least, he said to you in his head.

He was incredibly lucky that you didn’t work on the battlefield, his heart simply would not be able to take it. But he did, and for you he’d have to get home safe. Even if no one else cared that much, not even himself, he knew you would.

All of a sudden, it was easy to admit. He was hopelessly in love with you, in a way he didn't know he was capable of. He wished that he would spend the rest of his life with you and he hoped you would spend the rest of yours with him. Perhaps he was just afraid and a little flustered to admit that he was important to someone, especially someone special to him too. He had seen how painful it was for those left behind, a little too often. 

But there was an easy solution to that, he’d just get back to you safe every time. He just won’t make you worry and he’ll be there for you. This was supposed to be a dilemma, something he thought he'd stress over, but in the moment he felt eerily relaxed, definitely not like he was fighting an identified grade kaiju. The rest of the fight was a blur, he couldn't remember much. His head was clear but the fatigue had taken over at that point, but before he knew it, the kaiju laid in front of him still.

He was faintly conscious as they rushed him into an ambulance and patched him up. Once he was properly treated and awake, they had warned him to stay put and take it easy, but all he wanted to do was see you.

As soon as he left his assigned room, he immediately bumped into you. You had been waiting to be let in to see him. You took one look at the way he was patched up and tears welled into your eyes. He could tell you didn't mean to, you didn't want to worry him.

“Please don't cry,” he said softly, wiping your tears away. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“I'm not crying,” you said with a scowl on your face, but the way your voice cracked was not very convincing. “I'm so glad you're back.”

“Can't live without me?” he teased. He knew you couldn't live without him, but he couldn't either. Yet, now he even hated the thought of you living without him, let alone with someone else, so here he was. And here he always will be.

“Shut up,” you said. “You know I can't.”

He knew, but hearing you say that still made his heart flutter. He reached out with his right hand to grab your left and held it carefully. He leaned in to kiss you, but it was so much sloppier than the careful ones he usually gave you. Forgive him, he was terribly exhausted.

“I can't either,” he said, snuggling his face into your shoulder.

“You can't?” you asked, a little surprised. It broke his heart that he had possibly made you feel such way.

“Not for a second,” he said, still avoiding eye contact. “I'd rather die than wake up without you next to me, actually.”

You wouldn’t reply, so he brought his head back up to look at you.

“Oh, don't cry,” he said and chuckled a little, wiping your tears away as he kissed you again. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

He hadn't let go of your hand and although he was gentle, he held it firmly. He didn't say anything, but he vowed to himself that he'd put a ring on it someday. He wasn't letting go of you ever.

You were the one for him.

[batsplat]

“og 4 aliens very particular vibe in being ‘three distinct flavours of socially awkward loner and also valentino rossi’” LMAO I WAS JUST THINKING THIS!!!!!! That he has the funniest possible 3 foils in that era bc like…those three guys could not be less his vibe ~personality wise if they tried. And actually tbf I do think they WERE trying a lot of the time. Feeling very curious if you think there’s anything to the idea of how Marc was the first alien-era rival he had who was more on his level all around? Like early days Marc was kind of just 😀😀😀 all the time but I do think he can be v charming and is clearly extroverted as hell (tho like…notably also a loner but like…not by choice??). Like idk where im going w this but the contrast is interesting to me. IDK

to some extent! I'm not sure I'd necessarily call marc an extrovert, you can be charismatic and cheerful without being an extrovert - but also this is splitting hairs. the og four aliens are one guy who's on the 'roughly as extroverted as you can possibly get as a professional athlete' end of the spectrum and three guys who are on the 'roughly as introverted as you can possibly get as a professional athlete' end. now, tbh, I don't think valentino massively minded this. he's extroverted but crucially he's also got enough charm going for him that he could get his rivals to chat with him if he was so inclined. he had an increasingly friendly relationship with dani, there's real genuine warmth in how both of them talk about each other - ultimately dani might have been quite sullen and withdrawn in general, especially in his early years, but he got on well with valentino. casey and valentino had perfectly decent interpersonal chemistry, they got on well, and tbh they were still warm with each in-person long past the point where that relationship had rhetorically soured. with jorge... I mean, okay, no chemistry there, but that was also very much valentino's choice. I do not fundamentally doubt valentino's ability to charm twenty year old jorge lorenzo. I think just because they were DIFFERENT characters, that doesn't necessarily mean they weren't valentino's *type* personality-wise, like he does seem to be happy enough to be the chatty one who draws them out of their shells in that scenario. unless competitive necessity requires otherwise!! but as marc discovered, somewhat higher levels of extroversion does not protect you if that's the case

I will say I know you do put alien-era as a caveat, but it is still important to point out that marc is very much not the first valentino rival who doesn't fall in the introverted loner camp. valentino had a rival who matched his vibe!! who he had a real proper off-track friendship with, who he went on holidays with, who he had a warm relationship with for substantially longer than the marc/valentino honeymoon lasted. I think you can see the early marc era as a bit of a return to the friendlier vibes of the early noughties, but crucially it is a return. the early noughties was the last gasp before the sport came to be completely dominated by a bunch of young prodigies who had been moulded into perfect athletes and had less chance to grow into people outside of the sport - valentino is already part of that camp in everything but temperament, cf the contrast with biaggi. in the early noughties, he was surrounded by a bunch of older riders who varied dramatically in disposition... biaggi was the guy everyone had issues with, capirossi was always fond of valentino, kr jr he got on well with, he played a mentoring role for in hayden's rookie season... and of course, most importantly, the friendship with sete - now there's an obscenely friendly rivalry right until the very moment when it isn't. 2013-14 is a bit of a return to that more congenial climate, but at the end of the day that lot were still less likely to socialise than riders were back in the day. they just didn't have the time lol

so yeah, I mean. valentino clearly did take to marc on a personal level, and marc is definitely closer to valentino on the introversion/extroversion spectrum than the three other aliens are. though that is also... not difficult. there is something quite funny about how 2006-07 went from valentino's pov. the engine regs changed, valentino literally blinked and suddenly all his opps were toddlers. went from goofing off with capirossi on the sepang 2006 podium to running a daycare centre overnight. and marc is part of that! it's also a massive change in that suddenly, valentino was surrounded by rivals who had been influenced by watching him ride as they grew up and were all really, really, really weird about him. marc with his little bike collection, jorge with his dabbling in pseudoscientific schools of psychology, casey and his championship-winning shirt, dani... well, tbf, I do actually think dani was pretty normal about valentino - probably because he'd known him the longest. had gotten drunk with valentino in the days when the bloke was just an idol and not a god. which is an underrated reason why the dani/valentino relationship never got so weird imo, one that goes beyond competitive calculus - dani was the most capable of interacting with valentino as just another guy. with all three of marc/jorge/casey, that idolisation dynamic does contribute significantly to the interpersonal turmoil

but that's a topic for another day! in conclusion, marc defo the dispositionally cheeriest foil of the alien lot, albeit somewhat by default, and WAS part of the reason why motogp got a bit of a mood lift in that 2013-14 period after what had just been a dire few years vibes-wise. mediocre racing, devastation caused by the financial crisis, tragedy... motogp was feeling quite lifeless in 2011-12 in particular, and those years do have a bit of a drab energy to them. in that sense, what followed was a bit of a reversion to the mean until the vibes completely went off the cliff. have they ever recovered? who can say

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i think its weird that i have to make this disclaimer but the internet is crazy so wtvr,, anyway,,

if i say i dont like something, that doesnt mean "that thing is bad and nobody should post it.."

i swear literally every time i even mention that i dislike something, people will go "wow does that mean u fucking hate me cuz i post that thing? ur a fucking stupid bitch and all ur opinions r wrong" LIKE ?? er.. no. just because i say i dont like certain characterizations of certain characters (the saiki k fandom is CRAZY about this cuz i can state an opinion on literally any character and a group of people will still go 'well only we're allowed to post our opinions about them because we're always right!1!1!'), or certain ship tropes (mentioned my hatred of toxic yaoi maybe once or twice on here months ago and people STILL get mad at me as if i said toxic yaoi lovers r evil or something), or certain ships, or WHATEVER, does not mean that i HATE the people who are posting them or that i think they shouldnt post them at all, NO, im just posting about my personal tastes on my personal blog and it would be extremely weird and hypocritical if i decided that i was the ONLY person that was allowed to do that,,

i think the only reason people assume that is because there are a lot of other people on here who ARE like that, and a lot of people toe the line between posting that they dont like something and posting that they think everyone who likes that thing is stupid, annoying, and wrong,, so i guess all i can say is, sorry for whatever made you make these assumptions but they arent true about me so plz leave me alone ʘ‿ʘ ur doing the same thing to me that ur accusing me of but i didnt do it in the first place so ur just actively being a dick for no reason

[acourtofquestions]

Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:

She'd rebuild it—what she had been.

Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.

Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."

"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.

"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."

"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.

Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.

Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.

At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.

In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.

She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.

Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."

A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.

She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."

Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."

"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."

Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.

"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."

"I do know."

"And?"

"And what do you wish me to say?"

She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"

"If what?"

"If you wish it wasn't so."

His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"

She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.

It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.

"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."

She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.

"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."

She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"

"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."

"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."

"Then it is her choice, not yours."

Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."

She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.

Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."

She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.

"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.

"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."

A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"

"We'll face it together," he swore again.

"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.

Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."

"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."

She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.

"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.

She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

"I thought you might want to be asked first."

"That never stopped you before."

"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.

She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."

He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.

"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."

The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.

Together.

[jam-packed]

hiiii no one asked but pt 1 of a billion to my last unicorn au where marc is not a unicorn it will be marcnaia but not u gotta be patient im sry. anyways intro ily

about 1.3k

Casey sighs as he and Enea step carefully through the loose, winding path the forest grants them. They had been looking for a viable lake to fish at for a while, and despite the beauty of the greenwood that surrounded them, Casey knew this was not the place for them. It is far too quiet for comfort, Casey thinks, far too peaceful for him to truly enjoy—he is quite a modern man, as he considers. The trees stand tall and foreboding but plentiful and lush; the ground without leaves or brambles—not a prickle of snow has seen the ample soil beneath them—each blade of grass stands just tall enough to tickle the hairs on Enea’s naked ankles; each critter and creature they saw met them with curiosity and childlike wonder but leaving enough distance where Casey would not have to prevent Enea from taking something home; the birds sing sweet melodies into their ears, each note seeming to lead them closer and closer to where they would like to be; and Casey gets the lucky remnants of delicate and decadent speckled fur in the corners of his eyes—bright specks flitting in his vision to-and-fro.

Casey puts his hand on Enea’s shoulder, forcing his attention from the beauty enveloping them. “We must look elsewhere, Enea. This is no place for us.”

“What do you mean?” Enea’s eyes sparkle as he asks, mesmerized by the twisting leaves in the reaching branches above them, shining sparse but angelic light onto the two—kissing each curl on Enea’s head and spinning them to gold.

“There is magic here, my friend, learned slight by those that dwell in the cerval’s forest.”

“Cerval?”

“You are too young to have seen one, Enea, for the one here is lone in this world.” Casey declares, looking into the deep brush of the forest, where two bewildering moon-slit eyes follow him intently; he knows better than to stay here now. “We must think better than to fish here, lest we remove the world of any more magic.”

“Tell me of it, since I have not seen one—not heard of one,” Enea pleads with shining eyes, his boyish charm much more apparent now than even when they first met those fair months ago, in a small pub far from where the sun sets on them now. “Tell me, Casey.”

Casey hums, feeling tiny, near minuscule ants crawl up his calf with no care, and he grants them such privilege. “My great-grandmother—maybe even great-great-grandmother—told my mother, who told me, of her meetings with one. It came to her, rather than her to it—as most seem to do—and–”

“Did she capture it?” Enea’s voice trembles slightly.

“Of course not, dearest Enea. She simply sat near it, with the barest of a smile upon her lips to perhaps bring it close to her, and it did. It laid its head in her lap and licked the small sprouts of blood that flourished from her hands, healing the cuts that may have wounded her. Then it fell asleep, bringing her along with it—she only woke when she found it had gone, leaving her clothes barren of blemishes and bruises.”

“What did it look like?”

A smile floats onto Casey’s face. “Its eyes reflect the moon, and its fur is as soft as a well-loved cat’s.”

“Where did they all go, my love?”

Casey shrugs, his face flaring from the title Enea bestows him with. “Things change. There are things greater than us that haunt the Earth—it is no place for grand creatures such as he.”

There is a pregnant pause from Enea, bare of his usual thoughts and questions and mistakes in his speech that Casey finds ever so endearing. He looks around the forest for what they both come to know will be their last, the floral air kissing him sweetly. “Yes,” Enea says, determination set on his brow. He adjusts the rod and bag that lay upon his back, taking deep steps into the forest floor as if running towards the outer world beyond them. “Yes, let us fish someplace else.”

They reach the forest’s edge quickly—the blinding eyes following each move with careful precision—and Casey turns towards the poor creature, knowing its presence despite his decided lack of vision about it. He frowns as his voice cracks on his tongue, teeth clicking together reluctantly with each word.

“Do not leave here, dear wolf, for the world out here will ensure your end; keep in your forest, keep it lush and bright, with each creature protected by your grand stead—for no other can do as you do, for you are the last.” Casey can feel his eyes fill with salt and glistening pity. “I wish you luck, my friend; beware of men and girls that will only become bitter, old, and silly.”

The two take their leave, their packs full of nets, rods, bait, and gear gone along with them, and the cerval wolf’s gaze falls from them with a slow, dreary sadness. “Is it true?” He asks the forest he habits, his voice hoarse and crackling from disuse—it would frighten him if he allowed himself fear. “Am I really all that is left?”

He does not prance like the deer that follow his horrified sprint. He throws himself to the ground, twisting and crying in the dirt and gravel, biting at his tail and bowed legs for some poor sense of comfort. 

“How selfish they all are!” He growls through his mournful yelps. “My brother, my beloved brother! How could I live if he has left me, too?” The sprawling roots and sagging blades of grass hug at the poor creature’s shivering and solitary bod. The cerval drags itself up to lay by the river bed, its water akin to a mirror—clear and unwaning—if the pitiful beast had ever seen the latter to compare the two. He weeps once more, his tears mixing deep into the minute waves that come from the small waterfall nearby. He takes a drink, kissing the surface of the water with his speckled fur and padded nose, only to replenish himself of the tears he lost so he may start anew.

The heavens fall to darkness, the only light coming from the moon and stars shining through the trees’ fair leaves and branches overhead, and the heart-rending wolf has stayed in its tragic state for—to him—what felt like days. “Maybe,” he thinks out loud to the fish beneath the quivering ripples of the river beside him, “maybe I am to leave this place. What do men know? I could find them with ease, with pride. I am a great beast like no other; men tremble before me, and thunder calls my name—it would be with great ease, yes.” He swats at the brown trout taunting him from below, catching one by pulling it to the edge—where the water and soil meet in hopeful embrace—lifting it with his claws and peering at the poor thing with deep, bright, curious eyes. “Or maybe I should stay,” he concedes, pushing the rather dull trout back into the glistening waters. “I cannot really leave.” He stands to walk the river’s stream. “If I am truly the only one, I cannot leave for selfish reasons as they all have.”

He laughs to himself, “The forest will make fun, they will make me cry on return, and I will never leave again.”

“Yes,” he decides. “I will not leave. There is no possibility for it.”

[quortknee]

some of my durges heehee some of my tavs: [part 1] [part 2]

[lunarrosette]

I like need to just scream into the void abt nark which to be fair I have been doing in a discord with some of my friends bc they don’t know nark at all really but it just like AAAAHAGSYUAGSHSHHDGRHUS ya know?

[milkbreadtoast]

me having entire conversations in the tags of posts w ppl by going "#prev ..." has the same vibe as me passing notes back and forth to someone in class that the entire class reads before the notes get there

edit: ...alternatively having convos w someone by like. writing a message on the blackboard or sidewalk and then checking later and someone else has added to it while i was away...

[nibbles-whispers]

me attempting to tell one of my fantasies but I cant finish bc …well I’m sure u guys can guess 🤭

[mylifeisruined69420]

Gif I made a while ago

[volfoss]

actually yeah im making a quick poll on this. for anyone who has been around long enough to remember when i made my massive clamp readathon situation (in which i read every single one of the works they put out) be everyones problem. hi. im doing it again but much worse now. reading about 400 volumes (and more if i can find more) of tezuka osamu's work. i am just curious on the general consensus of if i should upload thoughts as i read each one (ie: one post being like i finished kimba/jungle kingdom, heres my thoughts) or just have a MASSIVE post of hey. read them all heres my thoughts (as i did with clamp. which is when i found out tumblr had a max text limit)

[cherrirui-official]

Making a post abt this so I don't forget later on when I wake up in the morning but, for the Beach Bros AU, I can totally see Bruce going to bed after reading a bedtime story to all 13 of his children and just as he's about to drift off John Dory appears at his bedroom door and says "hey, what about me??? :[" Like the pathetic manchild he is.

(image unrelated. The post just felt empty without the low quality JD)