#the first lady of star fox

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

I feel bad for Starlo.

Star has a point, idk what the four were ticked off about, there is like 99% chance everyone willingly participated in the trolley problem, based on what we've seen of his behavior thus far it's not like Starlo to be that big of a jerk/drag them by force/yell at them to do it. Ed's words:

he does it because Star asks NICELY

clearly jealous

It genuinely seemed like a fun time/fun roleplay, especially since every day is the same. Like, the five are supposed to be a rowdy and adventures bunch, what exactly did Starlo do wrong, I'm genuinely confused and curious. Except taking a big liking in Clover (his posse should know that this is a big moment for him, according to Blackjack they've known each other since high school and had the same liking for westerns. So they were basically a nerd gang.) Starlo was kind, patient and considerate towards Clover the whole time, even warned Mooch about them not being bandits, taught Clover gun safety, wanted to bring his posse along for a fun time, thanked Ace for telling him about getting Clover a new hat...

Sure, at first he only liked Clover for being a human, but as Ceroba says, that changed and he grew to genuinely care about them, plus I can't help but think Star saw himself in Clover and that's part of the reason he was so proud of them all the time even when they messed up (I'll talk more about this at some point)

What exactly made Ace want to leave the gang? He even said how he doesn't mind "getting run over by the fake train"

he's so nice. says sorry for forgetting the safety goggles even when he was scatterbrained due to his excitement. I love him so much

The only real "faults" (I'll call them temporary faults) I saw in Star during the Wild East section was that he was even more enthusiastic and more proud than usual. But how couldn't he be when he met a member of the species that he has admired for so long because they have real cowboys and sheriffs on the surface (who are seen as brave heroes who deliver justice, while Star canonically feels like a nobody farmer). His posse should have realized Clover wouldn't be there forever and just let their boss enjoy himself with his "deputy who'd have to leave sooner or later anyway"(or be more patient with him/ask him why he feels this strongly towards Clover/if there's a deeper reason for that). His friends including Ceroba just turn their back on him so quickly instead. The moment he's gotten the chance to feel valued for once and put himself first and not have to take care of this whole town and everyone in it and live his dream of meeting a real human, suddenly "his personality is damaged?"

Star's literally built this whole town, organised everything, he worries about everyone, Ceroba (plus was the one to give her emotional strength before and after Clover's sacrifice), Kanako, the monsters, his family, struggles with feelings of worthlessness yet never wipes that smile off his face, always does his best to be hopeful and optimistic and make others laugh, gave his posse a nap time so they don't become exhausted, gave Ceroba a free home, didn't act upon his feelings towards her and was a 110% supportive, caring friend instead. THAT'S who he is. He's the papa bear of this friend group, the glue holding everyone together.

He was just *really* excited. Y'all know he's insecure and just wishes to escape who he is and yet y'all blame him for liking Clover so much. Yeah, the four are very clearly jealous. But why won't the four of you control your feelings for a while? As mentioned, Clover WILL HAVE TO LEAVE EVENTUALLY. They won't be Star's "deputy" forever (the kid who's just as into westerns as he is, who values justice just as much, who also values doing the right thing. Someone he clearly felt understood in the presence of, whom he loved; just look at the way he talks about Clove during Showdown). Star seems genuinely confused of what he did wrong poor guy just wanted to live his fantasy for once and feel important:

Even at the beginning Moray's like "oh no Martlet is upset" Mooch replies "don't be a buzzkill nothing exciting ever happens around here" and Ray's like "Yeah you've got a point"

If you all agreed to have a little fun with a human who will very soon leave forever why is Starlo's enthusiasm such a big problem? If the posse weren't into this after all (unless they were simply too jealous which could have been solved with a honest talk and a little patience) why are you doing this "rowdy" job with Star in the first place? Do you want your boring routine day to day life so much back? Or just for Clover to leave (which they will soon enough)? You, western enthusiasts, literally met a real human, A HUMAN FROM WESTERNS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PASSIONATELY INTO (clearly not as passionate as Star but passionate ENOUGH to understand where he's coming from).

... okay.

[secretly-a-catamount]

Once again thinking about the Serafina Series and The Crane Wives.

The Crooked, the Cradle is book three from Serafina’s perspective. The quiets were restless and the silents were still, as Rowena, her enemy, stood over Serafina’s grave, alone with her kill, and raised her from the dead. Later, after running from Uriah, leaving blood in the water after she transformed out of the stream, Serafina stumbled into Biltmore, the Vanderbilts, the nobles of the house, weary and broken, and cried out, wondering if anyone could hear her, wondering if she truly was nobody’s daughter if her mother had run for the hills and her father couldn’t see her. She ran back to the woods, back to Rowena, who wore her hair down and a crooked smile, the only one who understood her now, and begged. Serafina who worked with her worst enemy to save the citizens of Biltmore, because even if her season was ending, their’s didn’t have to. Serafina, who prayed to the God she didn’t really believe in to survive the unsurvivable so she could live, so she could be happy, so she could have the love she would never want the devil to know about, because she just couldn’t let it go.

Canary in a Coal Mine is Waysa’s secret doubts about his and Rowena‘s relationship. He hopes that maybe he’ll be worth more someday than the man who pulls her out of her nightmares, the only thing that keeps her safe when the light goes out. That he’ll be worth more than the first man who showed her basic kindness and empathy. That he’ll be worth something to her, because he fears that he isn’t, even if that isn’t true, because he fears that if he loses his voice, if the darkness stops receding, that she will break the surface, return him to the darkness of empty graves and black air. He fears that if he stops being useful to her, she will leave, and he will continue to sing for her until his well-kept heart that was fed on promises stoped beating and his black lungs failed, expelling his final breaths, breaths that were made of coal dust and his own crushed bones and her love. Waysa will sing for her, because he loves her, even if she finally wised up to his flaws, even if she rightfully doesn’t love him back. Waysa will sing like a bird, like a canary in a coal mine who loves the miner who never even thinks to turn around as he falls from his perch, dead. Waysa will sing.

Thinking again about how The Crane Wives and Robert Beatty must share a brain, because of how well so much of their music matches with the Serafina Series.

Curses is Serafina talking to Braeden, a girl who is so tired of everything, a girl who, in her own eyes, will never be good enough, who thinks she’s cursed, a girl who feels so guilty about dragging her lover from his world into hers, a girl who creeps down the empty corridors of a house — her lover’s last named engraved on it like an elegy — with cobwebs in the corner, the backyard full of bones, knowing full well that war is always about to knock on their door, and burn them, ashes to ashes and dust to dust, because her enemies are after them both.

Tongues and Teeth and Never Love an Anchor is Rowena’s justification for leaving Waysa after he helped her heal from her wounds before the events of Splintered Heart, how she believed that every kiss would just leave Waysa bleeding, how, due to her father’s abuse and her own past actions, she thought that she could only ever hurt him, because she thought it was simply her nature to hurt and ruin and destroy.

Allies or Enemies is Rowena and Waysa’s relationship during Splintered Heart, once enemies who were then allies, Waysa having nursed her back to health in what Rowena considered a “moment of weakness”. Rowena, who felt guilty about how she treated him and the people he loved, Waysa, who forgave her for what she’d done, for disappearing. Waysa, who never doubted that she could change, even when she denied her feelings, even when she spoke words made of thorns and plagues and the cloying smoke of a wildfire.

The Garden is how consumed by grief and borderline suicidal Braeden was after he buried Serafina. Braeden, whose world was torn down by Serafina’s dying breaths. Braeden, who buried his best friend and lover — who was both his shield and his stone — with a spade and dug her up after she returned to life with shaking fingers. Braeden, who lied to his aunt and his uncle and the Estate as a whole. Braeden, who longed to make her grave their bed on his darkest days, who longed to give the crows who laughed at him their pound of flesh. Braeden, whom her ghost whispered to, when it returned in her blood-stained clothes, drifting into the manor from the window, pressing her lips to his neck, her teeth to his throat. Braeden, who considered a deal with the devil, the Black Cloak, if it meant saving her. Braeden, who fell to his knees and ripped up the ground with his bare hands until they bled.

Thinking about love and tragedy and broken children.

Thinking about the Serafina Series and The Crane Wives.

[almostempty]

Look at this photograph

(joel miller x f!reader)

The second installment of Never made it as a wise man

WC: 3.5k | Part 1 | Part 3| Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: you open Joel’s dick pic and (after examination) decide to give him a call

Note: it’s me ya boi (gn), back with more divorceddadrockdilf!joel bc you guys get me. i know y’all want them to fuck, and I want them to fuck too. unfortunately, this flowed through me first, and I am merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. 

so, until they get their freak nasty on, please enjoy this as a chapter 1.5, with gratuitous dick pic art critique and crankin’ it over the phone <3 don’t worry, he’s still a lil pathetic. mistakes and bad jokes are all on me. 

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where ch.1 ended, dick pic descriptions, alternating pov, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, it’s all just phone sex, but edge yourself through it with fond memories of ch. 1, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc

inspo playlist i found on spotify: Divorced Dad Rock: BANGERZ

thanks: to @hellishjoel for hosting the #hotdilfsummerchallenge and to everyone who enjoyed part 1 

@gothcsz i promise fuckboy!joel is cookin, he’s just in the crockpot rn. he’s gotta tenderize like a white lady’s pinterest recipe for pulled pork. 

* i tried to tag everyone who wanted more, but if you don’t wanna be here i’ll remove it <3 or if i missed you and you want to be tagged next time pls let me know

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you blurt out after opening the message from Joel. The vulgar dick pic sends a prickly worm of arousal slithering down your spine. 

Without thinking, you tilt the phone down toward your chest, and your eyes shoot up like you’ve got to make sure nobody saw your naughty message. Warmth blooms on your cheeks as the flash of embarrassment starts to dissolve. You don’t need to hide. 

You’re in your bed, in your apartment, wearing Joel’s grubby Creed t-shirt. The one that smells like Degree Sport and a Jiffy Lube break room. You're free to look at all the dick pics your heart desires. And that’s what you’re going to do. 

The wiggle of bashful energy turns into a squirm as you shift your hips, seeking a comfy position in bed. The t-shirt bunches up under your back and you wonder if the unique Joel scent of it will linger on your pillow beneath your shoulders. You knew pilfering the shirt on the way out the door was a good move, and now you get to enjoy your trophy. It makes it feel like the broad-as-a-barn-door DILF himself was still close enough to touch you. 

It gives you another bright shudder when you think about the noises he made when he came in your hand earlier. The disappointed grunts of “fuck, wait” and how he tried to choke down the throaty groan that came from deep in his chest. Fuck. The perverted gremlins that have a permanent residence in your mind have been roused by the digital dick, and now they chitter and squawk at you. More! More! More!  

You reopen the message, and seeing it gives you another rush. You save the picture to your phone storage. For your personal collection. Mine now, big boy. Your chin starts to dip towards your chest. It’s like you’re giving your phone the Kubrick stare with the ghost of a smirk. You’re free to take your time with this one. And you can be as much of a creep as you want. That makes you sigh softly and sink deeper against your pillows. 

Before this afternoon, it was titillating when Joel would pop up in your mind's eye with his slutty slo-mo scenes. The one where he was bent over your car's engine like Megan Fox in that Transformers movie. Or, that damn happy trail tease with the t-shirt-sweat-rag move. You had just enough imagery to let your dirty thoughts take the wheel. 

And, god, you had a good production team in your mind for projects starring Joel. Adding this will give the team a whole lot more to work with. You can hear them crashing around your conscious like the Animaniacs on the Warner Brothers lot. Horny chaos goblin mode activated. 

Now that you have time to study the image, from the luxury of your microfiber sheets and lamplit bedroom, you let it get pervy. It’s your first real, lingering look–earlier today, you were so busy trying to rile him up in his jeans that you didn’t even pull it out.

It had somehow been even more delicious that way. Having him all needy and unable to stop himself from making a mess in your hand. And not just the noises, but the erratic thrusts into your tight fist? The heat of his pulsing length as he forgot himself? Yeah, you’re gonna remember that one. 

But now? Now you need the visual. If the devil is in the details, you have a new neighbor with horns and a tail. 

You zoom in on everything. Holding your phone closer to your face than necessary, like how do we enhance this bitch? 

And holy shit. 

Drool pools in your mouth and between your legs. You have the knee-jerk reaction to lick your phone. 

You can hear Joel’s voice from earlier today. All husky and grumbly, arguing that you really were a slut for him, like, “You are, aren’t you, though? You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt just to see me?”  He might be touch-starved enough to cream his jeans, but you just know he’s got a nasty mouth in bed, and you’ve got to find out firsthand. Soon. There’s no reason not to, right? 

You pause when a flicker of reasoning tickles the back of your neck. 

You’re back to looking in your review mirror in Joel’s driveway. The last-ditch attempt at checking your ego before you marched to his front door like a Halloween hoe bag version of Betty Crocker. 

You had told yourself you weren’t trying to fuck your (almost) friend’s (sort of) dad. Told yourself there was nothing to pursue, and even if there was, you wouldn’t bite. 

You like Ellie. She’s been (mostly) welcoming to you. You told yourself not to fuck anything up with the only person that’s got a single one of your jokes at your new job. 

You were just bringing some food as a friendly gesture. The fresh visuals to add to your spank bank reel were supposed to be a harmless bonus. Okay, maybe it was a stretch to say you had rolled up to Joel’s driveway with pure intentions. 

And it was an even bigger stretch–when he added that third finger while he finger fucked you on the kitchen counter—wait, no. It was an even bigger stretch when you had told yourself you probably weren’t his type anyway. 

Like, that guy? With the fridge full of Coors Banquet? With those ugly Oakley sunglasses that you know are featured in his only picture on social media that isn’t a car or truck? The guy with all the words to Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” and Puddle of Mudd’s “She Hates Me” memorized? 

Nah, deep down, you knew. You knew there was no way that middle-aged bachelor would turn down any action. But you hadn’t planned on actually making a move, especially not a handjob in the middle of the kitchen. 

That’s on Joel for leaving the door open while trying to rub one out to some bimbo on Brazzers. And for barking at you in that sexy, angry voice. And for teasing you with the bulge in his oil-stained jeans. What were you supposed to do? 

Something must be really rotting in the logic department of your brain. 

Hey! The gremlin voice in your head is still shouting at you. Hey!! Why are we not tasting that dick yet?!! You’re back from your daydream and the excuses you crafted for your behavior, back to laying in your bed with Joel’s dick pic emitting a bright glow in your hand. 

You still do want to lick the screen. 

Fortunately for your immune system, you control your tongue. The critical part of you expels a sigh when you zoom out and take in the picture. 

It’s undoubtedly a nice cock, but the image as a whole? Yikes. 

Why do men have to be so fucking thick? And blunt? Wait, now you’re just describing the slightly blurry boner lighting up your face. Thick as in dense. How can men be so dense? 

No imagination or creativity. No patience. 

You shake your head slightly, scoffing. No wonder you caught him hunched over his cracked phone screen. It was probably the first video loaded on the only site he had saved. 

No sweet, sweet, buildup, setting the mood, or getting cozy. Just whippin’ it out midday or snapping a photo in some ratty sweats. 

Like you’ve never been that touch-starved or down bad?

You ignore that voice to continue your art critique. 

The photo you sent is… sexy. 

Sultry. A flirty tease. It says, “Look who has your shirt? Am I wearing it in bed? Do you think I'm wearing anything else?” 

It’s all implied in the look in your eye and the picture's composition. The tease of the soft curves on the underside of your breasts, asking if he remembers what they felt like. Your hand bunching up the shirt, asking if he remembers the slide of that fist around his cock. If he remembers those fingers, the ones you sucked his sticky spend off of. 

Such delicately crafted imagery. Personalized erotic fine art.  

But men are so crude about it. He sees your tasteful, sexy pic, and immediately, the best his caveman brain can come up with is: send her ur dick! STAT!! Hard cock! Now!!

And, of course, he did. Taken in the dark with the flash on, making ominous shadows in the background. His old charcoal gray sweats are pulled down just enough to expose everything he’s offering. 

The color is slightly blown out from the flash, and it’s a touch blurry where his phone didn’t autofocus quickly enough. His hand looks like it’s straight up, just choking the base of his cock. It’s jarring. 

But that’s really the “man” of it all, right? Nothing subtle or demure about a rock-hard erection jutting towards you, reaching like it could get to you on its own if it just could get a little bit harder. No, there’s nothing coy about the raw thoughts of a man with no blood left in his brain who’s just aching to get inside you, either. 

And fuck if that doesn’t start to override your critical analysis. 

The glare from the flash reflects in the beads of precome rolling down his rosy tip. Mouth wateringly delicious. Your blood rushes to your pussy, filling your tender sex with heat and a deep, needy itch. It makes you dopey and silly. Not cock drunk, but like, dick pic buzzed. 

You know it felt sizeable in your hand earlier, but you aren’t an expert at estimating size from a through-the-pants handjob. You try to recreate your own grip around nothing to estimate the size. 

You giggle to yourself when you realize you're just a woman in her bed staring at her hand, jerking an invisible cock. The horny goblins aren’t amused, though. They’re sick of the daydreaming and distractions. They’re picking fights with the rest of your mind. Throwing rocks and sticks, shrieking and hissing. 

The part of your brain that was griping about how men used to write love letters and respect the art of romance is getting quieter and further from your faculty for caring. You can hear its muffled shouts, and you assure that voice that you won’t give it all up this easily. Then, you completely tune it out. 

The last brain cell with a complaint has you rolling your eyes. You have to be ovulating or something because it’s wholly debased the way this guy is doing it for you. 

He’s just shameless with it. 

You sent him tasteful underboob, and he gives you jumpscare dick-in-the-dark! How is this supposed to escalate? He gave it all up immediately! You send another picture, and he sends you his money shot? What’s he gonna do to give you more? Send you an asshole shot? That one makes you snort. You bet he would do it, too, if you asked. 

Oh, that gives you a better idea. He’s not getting another picture from you at all. You tap on his name and tap the call icon. Of course, this horny motherfucker answers immediately. You aren’t sure it even rang before you’re connected to his porny bedroom voice. 

“What are you wearing, dollface?” 

“I already showed you. Call me dollface again, and I’m hanging up.” 

You can hear his breathing like he’s got the mic on his phone in his mouth. That would typically drive you fucking nuts, but right now, you wanna hear his heavy breath against your ear and feel it hot against your skin.

“All right,” he speaks slowly, distracted. You know why. “You wanna be my slut, instead?” 

Fuck. That has you throbbing between your legs, but he doesn’t get to know that yet. 

“I already told you,” you keep your voice low and soft, “you don’t get to call me a slut for you, not with your behavior.” You strain, trying to hear any other noises, but his mic is probably clogged with dust from his shop or lint from the pocket of his sweats. You can just hear his fucking breathing. 

“What behavior, baby?” he rasps.

“You always jump straight to sending a picture of your cock?” 

You hear the soft snort through the phone. Followed by a deeper, throatier noise. A noise that makes you go cross-eyed and has you running a hand down to your naked lower half to tease yourself. 

“You always steal a man’s clothes after you come on his fingers?” 

You don’t really care what he asked. His voice makes your tongue go numb. Your mind goes blank. You start slowly, coating your own fingers in your slick arousal and drawing circles with a light touch. 

You hum a noncommittal response into the phone. 

“You look good in my shirt, baby, fuck,” he trails off breathlessly. The idea of you in his clothes gets him too close. 

You don’t answer, and he’s too far gone to wait and tease. 

He’s been wound up since you took off this afternoon, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that you sent him that pic when he had just gotten into bed.

It had taken ages to get his brother out of the shop this afternoon, and then Joel completely fucked up when he mentioned you and the lasagna. He had to begrudgingly host Tommy for dinner when he couldn’t come up with a better excuse than saying, “I’m gonna need you to fuck off so I can deal with the aching balls I’ve got from your surprise visit scaring away the woman I had my fingers knuckle deep inside.”

But when he was finally alone, it was like fate; your text came through right after he flopped onto his bed. His semi-stiff cock had sprung to full mast at the sight of you. The shirt he knew he didn’t fuckin’ lose, your soft curves, and the expression on your face. Like a vixen. Your PG-13 tease would do more for him than any X-rated video. 

Knowing you were thinking about him and that you wanted him to know? That had him throbbing. He already knew from the desire in your eyes earlier today that you wanted more.

He could swear his fingers still hold the lingering flavor of your wet cunt. The visceral memory of you has him on edge. When he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, he has to pause, holding firmly in place. His body screams and aches for release, but he’s determined to keep it in check. He doesn’t want to blow his load until he gets a response from you. 

He fights his urges, trying not to fuck his own fist in a frantic race to come. 

But, fuck, it’s difficult when he can imagine the sounds you’d make as you sank onto his cock for the first time. The face you’d make. Your tight, wet walls hugging him just right. Like, he’s where he’s meant to be. 

And the way you would look, bouncing on top of him. Your tits, your blissed-out face, the way your soft lips would part when you called out his name and cried for more. 

Those lips. 

The way he’d love to see them swollen and slobbering around the base of his cock. Fuck. His hips buck reflexively, and he hisses out a breath through his clenched teeth. When his phone lights up with your name, he answers before it can make a sound. You’re so bold. He likes that. It plasters a saucy grin on his face. 

And now, with your breathy voice crackling through his janky phone speaker, he’s not gonna last long. You've got him losing his composure for the second time in one day. His whole body is rigid. His toes flex and snap unconsciously, and his jaw tenses. He hears your soft moan, and his thoughts are overflowing. He has no filter left. 

“Yeah, baby? You moaning for me?” His hips punch up into his fist, and he gives in, allowing himself firm, severe strokes. “You’ve got me so hard. You moaning for my cock?” 

You are so not gonna answer that one. If the next words out his mouth are, “Yeah, you like that?” you’re gonna block him for that. But it is undeniably hot to hear him already so worked up. You just know he’s gonna be coming all over himself again for you, and that really does make you moan just for him.

Your noises earn you another growly groan from Joel that you’d kill to hear again. The more uninhibited his noises are, the louder you get in response.

“You using your fingers, or you have a toy?” his question is punctuated with a grunt. 

“Mm, just fingers,” you purr, finally granting him an actual response as you roll your hips. Having Joel on the line gives you a heady sense of satisfaction. Wondering what’s going to come out of his filthy mouth next gives you a shiver of anticipation. 

“I know that sweet pussy is just achin’ to be filled again.” Correct. 

“Yes.” 

“S’right, baby, I know.” 

Joel whimpering on the phone for you is absolutely going to get you off. Your hips chase your own fingers. You switch your phone audio to speakerphone and drop it on your pillow so you can use both hands. Pinching at your own nipples as if it were Joel’s big hand under your smuggled shirt. 

“Tell me,” he pants, “who do you need to fill it for you?” 

“You, Joel.” 

“Fuck,” he chokes out, “you wanna ride this cock, huh baby?” 

“Mhmm.” Bingo. Right again. You wish you could feel the pressure of him inside of you, massaging and soothing away the agony. The weight of his body atop of yours, so solid and secure. You can just about feel the pressure of his pelvis grinding into you. The friction from the coarse curls at the base of his cock getting you closer and closer. 

“Know you’d do so good,” he cuts himself off with a low noise, “so damn sexy.” 

“What else would you do with me?” You wanna hear it. For your own fantasy and to know what he’s into.  

“I’d have you taking me down your throat til you’re crying on it for me, fuck,” a primal noise erupts from him.

Face fucking. Of course. You can’t deny that when he says it, your body responds instantaneously. Your pussy floods eagerly at the idea, and your cheeks burn hot from the visual he gives you. You swallow down your moans, and you can imagine the weight of him on your tongue and the strain of trying to swallow around his cock. 

“You wanna come down my throat?” As if that isn’t a fucking siren song that would make him steer a fleet of ships into a cliff? Your salacious words are too much. 

“Shit. Yeah, baby, wanna watch you swallow for me.” You let all your moans and gasps flow freely for him to hear. “I’m so fuckin’ close,” he can’t stop the words from spilling out his mouth, “let me hear it, baby,” he can’t stop his pending bliss either. “Please, baby, I can’t, oh f-fuck,” he cuts himself off with another primitive grunt, and that’s precisely what your cavewoman cunt wanted to hear. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The horny goblins chant out loud this time. You can envision sweaty, pleading Joel lurching toward a reckless, full-body climax. 

You’re far from grace when the crude sounds he lets out turn you into an uncivilized beast. You hear him gasping, growling, and whining for you. It plunges you into a staggering orgasm. Rolling waves of ecstasy leave you panting and sweating.  

You lie in bed, chest rising and falling beneath the Creed logo. You’re left stunned at the intensity. A dreamy smile spreads across your face, and warm contentment, like honey, pours slowly over your muscles. Relaxing you as your tension softens and you turn to pick your phone back up.

Why was it so wholly consuming just to listen to him? Imagining the mess he made again,

because of you. 

Maybe you’re just made for each other. 

You and Joel. 

Oh, god. You should start listening to Alanis Morissette and Evanescence and trade your car for a 1990s-era Toyota 4runner and a pack of Marlboro Smooths. Really lean into matching his freak and the divorced alt-rock vibes.

You laugh softly into your phone before a deep sigh possesses you, and you nearly fall asleep. You stretch and smile, letting your heavy eyelids rest. 

He’s muttering something at you, catching his breath from the stress of being that fucking horned up for you all evening. And the overexertion of lasting long enough to hear your sweet cries of release. 

“You’re unreal,” his smoky voice rings with awe. “Got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager.”

You snort at the juxtaposition of his tender voice and crude comment before ending the call with a whispered, “Goodnight.” 

It shouldn’t make you smile. 

But he’s somehow such an enticing disaster. A cliche lonely bachelor, a cocksure idiot who knows he’s got a big dick and a generous guy who was willing to fix a stranger's car. 

You shouldn’t be trying to justify it, but you know he had you figured out earlier. 

You may be sated tonight, but you won’t be able to rest.

Not until you get your hands on that DILF – or rather, your pussy on that dick. 

-> Part 3

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@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

[abluebirdsseaview]

All New Part 5

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Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

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Peoplemagazine

Liked by 255,387 users

Peoplemagazine according to sources close to Drew Starkey and Y/n Y/l/n they have been dating for the past two months. Many fans have also been speculating this relationship due to recent exchanges in each other's comment sections and their appearance in Sabrina Carpenter's Bed Chem music video.

2k comments

User1 I KNEW ITTTTT

User2 she's collecting white boys of the month like infinity stone

User3 obsessed with this pairing

Madelinecline 🤭

> user4 she been knew

Drewstarkey

Liked 7,273,185 users

Drewstarkey officially the coolest

20k comments

User1 oh my they are perfect

Sabrinacarpenter my babies 🥹

User2 y/n is living my dream

User3 may this type of love find me 🙏🙌

Madelinecline my favorite couple

Yourinstagram my coolness rubbed off on you

> drewstarkey definitely did

Text messages

Drew ❤️‍🩹

How are you feeling with the announcements.

You

I'm actually feeling pretty good

Thought everyone was going to jump my neck but it's actually been very calm

I'm so happy

Drew ❤️‍🩹

Me too

Can't wait to see you again

How are the auditions going?

You

I think they are going well

Trying to not get too excited

But I have never wanted a role more than this

I'm getting called again

Call later?

Drew ❤️‍🩹

Yes missed your voice

Break a leg

Yourinstagram

Liked by 4,382,197 users

Yourinstagram scary to think I'm half way to 50

19k comments

Madelinecline those cucumber drinks were dangerous

> yourinstagram SO TRUE

User1 SHES 25?

Hole4drewstarkey my idol

Gracieabrams this was the best debrief birthday dinner

> yourinstagram we NEED to hang out more

Drewstarkey I would still date you if you had gray hair

> yourinstagram you would make a great silver fox

> user3 omg I'm dying

Madelinecline

Liked by 2,738,028 users

Madelinecline The gang is back together

12k comments

Yourinstagram nothing like new york with my girls to destres

> Madelinecline this was necessary

User1 need a friend group like this

Drewstarkey give her back to me

> Madelinecline I got her first

> yourinstagram ladies ladies... there is more than enough of me to go around 🙂‍↕️

Paulmescalupdates

Liked by 3,827 users

Paulmescalupdates Paul Mescal and Y/n Y/l/n are set to star in the movie adaptation of beach read by Emily Henry. Filming will start summer of 2025.

148 comments

User1 the crossover we did not know we needed

User2 AHHH IM SO EXCITED

User3 this is amazing

User4 just wait in a few months y/n will be dating him 🙄

Yourinstagram Did you HAVE to use a Pic of me blonde 😮‍💨

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Taglist: @mads-writes-vibes @xcinnamonmalfoyx @frankoceanluvr11 @willowpains @rafecameronsfan @mytimeiswaiting @aariahnaa @girl-detective16 @mrsjamespotterr @thepopcultureaddict @purplerose291 @surazim @chimmysoftpaws @blog-luvdance @artistadistrada2002 @me-ig1 @ayy1234567 @raeven-marie43 @kaiparkerwifes @norasnodgrass @percysley @inthelibrarybtw @wh0re4drewstarkey @pookie1dookie2wookie3

[max-nico]

It's Tails first birthday with Sonic. Sonic estimates the kid is turning about 4, maybe 5 today. They're sitting at a little diner in some middle-of-nowhere town, partially because they don't have the funds for much more, but also because Tails only said he would like to go to a restaurant for his birthday.

It seemed like an odd choice for a kid, Sonic is pretty sure kids usually ask to go to things like amusement parks, or trampoline parks, or... Regular parks. He's not quite sure what kids like outside of parks, so maybe he's overthinking it.

Still, he asks Tails why he would want to go out to eat anyways. It seems like an odd choice for a rambunctious 4 (5?) year old.

"Oh." He mumbles, "Well I dunno what people do for birthdays, but one time I heard people back at the island talkin'bout going to dinner! I thought that's what people are s'posed to do, am I wrong?"

Sonic frowns for a moment, unsure of how to answer his question. It takes a little work to make the words he's looking for bubble up from his throat, still pretty unused to talking more than what's absolutely necessary.

"No, not really. You're-You are supposed to do what you want for your birthday. Whatever you want." Sonic's words drag in all the wrong places, and linger when he chokes on vowels. "Like, go to the park or.. something. Would you want to go to the park?"

Tails thinks for a moment and shakes his head.

"No, you don't play with me at the park, and I wanna spend my birthday with you, Sonic!"

Way to hit a hedgehog in his heart strings, huh? Normally when they're at a park there's other kids, so he lets them entertain themselves while he takes a nap on a nearby bench. He's not playing because he doesn't want to play, he's trying to encourage Tails to make friends. It seems, he may have screwed up somehow, not in any unfixable way though.

Sonic frowns, "If we go to the park I'm happy to play with you. Do you want to go?"

Tails shakes his head again, "I'm hungry."

Sonic laughs.

The diner staff are polite. They all have slow drawls that make it practically impossible for Sonic to actually listen to them, but by Gaia does he try. They just ask general questions; drinks, food, sauce, sides. Things like that. Sonic makes sure to mention Tails birthday as well, and the lady promises to come back with two free cupcakes.

The entire dinner flies by in no time at all. Tails does most of the talking, as usual, but Sonic tries harder to contribute to the conversations and ask engaging questions. Even when the fox starts going on and on about plane parts and upgrades that Sonic can't even begin to pronounce, let alone grasp what they do.

Soon enough, their dessert is out. Sonic has never been big on any types of sweets, so as soon as the happy birthday song the waiters sing is over he slides his cupcake to Tails side of the booth. It's more than worth it, even if he would've wanted the cupcake, because the kids eyes light up like Sonic has just handed him the stars.

"Are you gonna blow out your candle first?" Sonic chuckles, pointing at Tails own still sparking cupcake.

"Well duh!" He sasses, grinning.

"What're you gonna wish for?"

Again, Tails thinks, wrinkling his nose as if this is the most important question he's ever had to answer.

"It has t'be small." He says. "Just in case."

An eyebrow raise is shot Tails' way. "In case of what?"

"Well, the elders at the island always said wishin' comes at a price, that's why I was born with two tails y'see? So it can't be big, just in case, cuz I can't accidentally trade ya'up! You're more important to me than any wish ever!"

Before Sonic can respond, Tails has blown out his candle. The hedgehog's eyes are a little misty, and his nose is a little runny, unbeknownst to the little fox across from him. Never in Sonic's life has he had anyone be so.. so genuine to him. He's so beside himself with fondness he isn't quite sure what to do with it all, he feels so swollen with love he might explode.

Quietly, Sonic asks him what he wished for.

"Your long and pro-prosperous health! That means ya get to stay healthy for a long long time." Tails smiles but his face is deadly determined, as if he's truly trying to will his wish into existence by sheer force of will alone.

Sonic supposes he'll have to wish for the same thing on his birthday, just to make sure they're even.

Heyyyy y'all !! Should I probably wait until Tails actual birthday to post a birthday fic? Maybe. Do I care? Nope !! Come talk to me !! I don't bite I swear !!!

Sonic, in this fic for some reason: do you want to go to the park?

Tails: no I do not

Sonic: Have you ever gone to the park?

Tails: no I have not

Sonic: will you go to the park?

Tails: maybe...

Sonic: when will you go to the park?

Tails:

[lasirenatarot]

“ LOOKS-MAXXING ” pick-a-card reading.💝

Your next glow up.

What can you do in order to have a big glow up?

Pick a pink 90s magazine cover:

—>Pile 1

Your next glow up will most likely be related to getting « in peace » with your s€xuality prior to glowing up both physically and mentally. What I mean by this is you will probably need to get rid of any self doubts about your looks, any shame around your $£xual side due to past traumas or for some the way you were raised, some may have been raised in a controlling or conservative family.

One of the ways you can make this glow up happen is if you really enjoy your life and what you do. Try to practice your hobbies more and work on bettering your natural talents, by doing that you may find your purpose in this world and this will lead to the biggest glow up ever.. for some it may lead them to their dream career.

Something which appears in the cards is that you may need to forgive your parents or parental figures for the way they treated you in order to reach peace within yourself and your physical body. Forgive yourself as well for not acting in the « right way » or not looking a certain way, this is the best you could do at that point of your life . It is all in the past.

As for a physical glow up: judging by the pictures shown on the cards that fell, maybe start focusing on a regular work out routine, focusing on legs, butt or whatever you feel like you need to improve. Updating your clothing style may benefit you a lot. Stop caring about what others would say and pick clothes which give you freedom of expression, be yourself shamelessly. Some of you who chose this pile may have some creative vision which they may have been scared to express - do it. Meditation may help with your « glow up » in some form as well. Try bolder makeup looks and outfit choices.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 1:

The vibes I get from this pile is totally Julia Fox as a persona,not only style wise. She’s unapologetically herself, maybe for some she’s a bit weird. But the main point is, despite people’s opinions and perceptions of her, she has always followed her own rules and expressed herself. Before she got famous she was a dominatrix, did a photobook, an art exhibition aand starred in a famous movie in which her character was inspired by her real life . All this happened because she was authentic,lived her life the way she wanted and followed her heart, exactly what u should do as well,pile 1.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 2

Pile 2, you’re going through or will go through a huge transformation.. luck will definitely be on your side and you may find out answers for things which you’ve always wanted to know about. ( it can be pretty much about anything. If we are talkibg about a physical glow up exclusively, you may learn some very good beauty hacks soon. It can be about makeup, diet, exercise, skin care, personal development etc.. this is a general reading so I cannot be exact but whatever your case is it will lead to a HUGE glow up. Two of the cards are talking about some « secret knowledge » so whatever it is it will be significant for you.

This pile is very different from the first one as the glow up that appears here is not just about one or two things in your life or looks, it’s about everything. The things you can do in order to glow up faster, pile2, is maybe start watching makeup tutorials and pay attention to new techniques or products you haven’t heared before, ask people for where they shop they may tell you some secret thrift store with really cool clothes which can uplift your style.. anything which can help you get this « secret knowledge » which appeared in the cards. Another thing I can say for this pile is: focus on manifestation, envision the changes in your looks or life as a whole you would like to have and act accordingly in your 3D universe in order to get to where you want to be. Positive affirmations and subliminals (as in subliminals I mean not the crazy unrealistic ones, but those about self concept, confidence and beauty in general) may also be helpful in your case.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 2:

The vibes I get here are Fran from “The Nanny” and Maddy from “Euphoria”. Fashionable, bold, colourful. Radiating confidence. Crystals, glitter, sparkle, feathers, bold and colourful makeup, everything of that sort. Do not dim your own light to make someone else feel better about themselves if they are insecure.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 3

Pile 3: I think you would definitely be bettering your financial situation sooner than you may have even expected, this may help you get a glow up. You would be able to afford nicer things, skincare, clothes, procedures etc.. If you’re not already on a path to improve your finances, then you would definitely be motivated to start working on this problem soon and be very committed on your mission of « glowing up » in every way possible. Physically, mentally, spiritually even. You will be finding yourself after a long period of feeling lost and unlike your true self.

You would become much more intuitive, confident and cut throat even, you won’t let energy vampires use you as they may have done in the past and this would lead to a more beautiful and healthy version of you, because you would not have to deal with others’ negativity anymore. When it comes to relationships you would not be satisfied with with mediocrity, you will be finally standing your ground and being true to your standards and what you deserve. You will be getting your justice if you’ve been mistreated in the past.

This pile has huuuge « femme fatale » « dark feminine » vibe. This may be the energy you will be channeling after you have your glow up. Doing classic makeup like red lipstick+ black eyeliner, black smokey eyes and nude lips combo might help you channel this energy that i am seeing here better. Wearing colours like: red, black, gold and nude might help you elevate your look. Also wearing jewelry, lace and high heels. Don’t be scared to embrace your « dark side » which you may have ignored in the past in order to fit in with the crowd.

May sound trivial, but follow your intuition and do what makes you happy, it will make you glow in ways which you have not expected..

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 3:

The vibes I’m getting here are as I said in previous paragraphes: femme fatale, dark feminine energy,monica bellucci core type of look/aesthetics..

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

That was all from today’s PAC. It was a bit different from previous ones and I myself did not expect it to turn out the way it did, but sometimes completely different information pops up in readings because someone needs to hear a certain thing.. Hope you enjoyed it!!

Leave a comment/feedback if it resonated, share and follow for more.

Thank you for reading!

- La Sirena���

Decks used: ‘$£xual magic’ oracle deck by Lo Scarabeo; ‘Manara’ €rotic tarot deck by Milo Manara/ Lo Scarabeo;

Photos are from pinterest; all credits to their respective owners.

[bumbl3beetle]

HI, I'M HERE TO INTRODUCE MY BAND DR!!!

Band name - Mixed SuitCase (MSC)

We are a multi genre band who started out making music in our guitarists closet.

We all met in band class, and we started the band due to boredom, and due to me and the guitarist (Milo) constantly fighting. We hated each other, and the band forced us to get along.

Introducing.. THE MEMBERS !!!

Me !

nickname(s): Luci, girl guy, Lucio

band role: lead singer

age: 16

birthday: 04/01

pronouns: he/him

Sexuality: bisexual

Face claim / look alike claim:

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Marla !

nickname(s): Marls, Marla

band role: drums

age: 16

birthday: 03/26

pronouns: She/they

sexuality: Pansexual

relationship: close friends!

closeness: 9/10

extra (traits, hobbies, tendencies): LOOVES peanut butter. She's allergic to grapes. Her favorite animal is a bearded dragon. Her favorite color is blue. She's very touchy. People often talk over her, and prefers one on one. She has ADHD. She hates coffee, but doesn't mind the flavor. She loves writing lyrics. Her voice claim is "Agnes" from "Fantastic Mr. Fox".

face claim / look alike claim:

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Ruth !

nickname(s): Ruth bear, Ruth berries, Ruth

band role: back up vocals, bassist

age: 16

birthday: 08/18

pronouns: She/her

sexuality: Bisexual

relationship: BESTIES

closeness: 9/10

extra (traits, hobbies, tendencies): Favorite food is cherries. She hates bananas and chocolate. She loves rap but specifically 90s rap. She’s been known to leave her things around, having completely forgotten about them. She has ADHD. Her voice claim is "Young Vi" from "Arcane".

Face claim / look alike claim:

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Milo !

nickname(s): Milo, Mr handsome

band role: guitar

age: 15

birthday: 01/02

pronouns: He/him

sexuality: Bicurious

relationship: Erm close friends? we hated each other

closeness: 10/10

extra (traits, hobbies, tendencies): loves metal (the material). Believes in manifesting. Got his ears pierced when he was born. Learned guitar to “bring in the ladies”. He’s Filipino and Korean. Loves physical touch, his hands are rough. His mother used to go to gay bars just to see pretty outfits. His voice claim is "Rob" from "The Amazing World of Gumball".

Face claim / look alike claim:

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

We only have two albums currently, "Dear PenPal" and "UnORIGINAL".

The album contents and the artists who made the songs in this reality! ↓

Dear PenPal

Fade into you - Mazzy Star

No other heart - Mac DeMarco

Again & Again - The Bird And The Bee

Iris - Goo Goo Dolls

For the First Time - Mac DeMarco

BIRDS OF A FEATHER - Billie Eilish

Once More to See You - Mitski

.・。.・゜✭・

UnORIGINAL

Clay Pigeons - Michael Cera

Velvet Ring - Big Thief

Linger - The Cranberries

I Just Threw Out The Love Of My Dreams - Weezer

Vampire Empire - Big Thief

Chokehold - Sleep Token

.・。.・゜✭・

I'm currently working on our third album, which will be completely metal! I do eventually want to make an album that is country, and one that is Gothic. Can you see why I chose Mixed SuitCase?

Anyways, thanks for reading! If there's anything you want to know / want me to add to this, lmk!

Have a wonderful day and go shift!! ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

[sparkypantaloons]

I Protí Forá

Bruce loves his kids, he just really doesn't know how to say it. So he shows it instead, usually with ridiculous displays and gestures of affection. Because he's a billionaire, ya know? And also a massive dork.

Eleven year old Jason comes to realise all of the above, from the middle of the Aegean Sea.

The first time Jason gets on a plane he's eleven.

Bruce is taking them to Greece for a vacation. He says it's because work has been hectic, but Jason's pretty sure it's because he (Jason) has been reading The Odyssey. Bruce might be the whole big boss of Wayne Enterprises, but every meeting Jason's ever overheard from the study starts with Bruce saying "Hello!" all cheery before going "But let me hand you over to the most important man at Wayne Enterprises", and then Mr. Fox takes over, so it can't be all that hectic.

Besides, Bruce does stuff like this sometimes. Like once, Jason told him he'd never seen a basketball game and Bruce took them to see the Gotham Guardsmen versus the Chicago Bulls the very next week. They sat courtside, and Jason had the biggest load of nachos he'd ever had in his whole life, and Bruce even let him try a sip of his beer (which was gross, by the way). And then after the game Jason got to meet both teams and try and shoot some hoops with Michael Jordan, who just "happened" to be there (yeah right, Bruce) and he got a tour of the entire stadium.

So, when Bruce looked over the top of his paper one evening, with the same look he had when he asked if Jason wanted to be adopted, and said "Shall we go to Greece next week?" Jason's pretty sure it's 'cause he (Jason) was reading The Odyssey. And nothing to do with work.

They fly from Newark to Athens, in the first class suite on Etihad. They have their own mini apartment on the plane, with two wide-screen TVs and a double bed, their own bathroom and a shower. It's almost as big as Jason's old apartment in the squat he was living in before Bruce found him, but not quite. It's a lot nicer though and Jason can't quite believe all this is on a plane.

The air crew greet them with a smile and give them bags full of expensive 'amenities' and stuff and hand Bruce a glass of champagne. He tells them he used to have a private jet, but that they're terrible for the environment and he's trying to reduce his carbon footprint. He says it in that stupid voice he does when he's pretending to be what Dick calls a "himbo billionaire" but there's the secret grin at the corner of his mouth that's just for Jason, that makes Jason feel like he's with the best man in the world.

When they're somewhere over the Atlantic, the lady looking after their section asks if Jason would like to see the cockpit. It's not normally allowed, she says, but Mr. Wayne is such a good customer (and man, she adds, batting her eyes at Bruce over Jason's head, as though Jason wouldn't know what she meant) that the Captain has agreed to make an exception.

It's dusk, and the sky from the cockpit is bigger and more brilliant that Jason has ever seen. A glorious canvas of pastel pinks and purple hues, stretching up into a deep dark blue where stars are slowly beginning to blink into life. The Captain greets Jason with a smile and Bruce with a handshake. Explains what all the different lights and buttons and switches mean, and let's Jason wear her hat for a photo.

By the time they land in Athens, Jason is pretty sure this is the second best day of his life. (The first best is the day Bruce adopted him).

They're spend the night at a fancy hotel, in a room on top of a cliff over looking the Saronic Gulf, which Jason has never heard of but is apparently part of the Aegean Sea. They have their own private swimming pool and two huge beds - one each, though Bruce says Jason can still share if he wants to.

The air is warm and thick, even as the day begins to fade, and though he's not that good at swimming yet, Jason is desperate to jump straight into the pool. "After some supper," Bruce promises, sounding a lot like Alfred. But he keeps his word and the two of them lie on their inflatables as night falls. Above them, in the dark, there are more stars in the sky than Jason has seen in his whole life.

~

The first time Jason has been on a boat he's still eleven.

He and Bruce wander down to a little dock below the cliffs wearing matching boat shoes and shirts. Jason is wearing his Gotham Guardsmen cap and Bruce has a white strip of sunblock under his eyes.

"Technically it's a catamaran" Bruce tells Jason, explaining the difference between hulls of the two as they step aboard. "Kalimera George!" He says, "O gios mou, Jason. Jason, this is our skipper, George."

Later, many years later, Jason will know enough Greek to realise Bruce introduced him as his son, but as he steps aboard the cat all he can do is wonder what Bruce said, smile shyly and shake George's hand.

They sail south from Athens, passing the Temple of Poseidon in coastal Sounio and onto the Aegean Islands. Jason has finished The Odyssey by now, but has moved onto other Greek myths, Theseus and the Minotaur, Artemis and Apollo, Icarus and Daedalus. The sea is a brilliant, turquoise blue, diamond bright under the warm Mediterranean sun and by the time they reach the island of Kythnos, Jason is itching to jump in.

They find a secluded cove, with a small rocky beach and George drops anchor.

"Last one in is a Green Lantern fanboy!" Jason crows, and he leaps from the back deck into the crystal cool water.

It's his first time in the sea, any sea, and he can taste the salt on his lips. The water is calm and he bobs lightly, laughing as Bruce makes a strangled cry and leaps in after him.

"You love Green Lantern!" Jason teases, giggling with his head thrown back to keep it above the surface. He's not so good at treading water yet.

Bruce drifts over to him, pouting. "I wasn't ready, no fair." He says, pulling Jason towards him and onto his back.

Jason closes his eyes to the sun as Bruce swims them round the cove a little.

"Let's swim back to the cat." Bruce says, and Jason chews his lip because it's a little far. "I'll be right beside you." Bruce promises and they swim back to the boat, together.

That night they lie out on the deck and Bruce points out all of the constellations from the Greek myths; Orion and Cassiopeia and Hercules, though obviously Herakles is the proper Greek name for him.

"Whose your favourite Greek hero, B?" Jason asks, his head on Bruce's stomach.

And because he's corny like that, Bruce says "Jason."

~

Jason's first crush, the first one where it feels like something, he's eleven still, and he and Bruce are on a tiny island called Nykterides. It's a nature reserve for bats and other animals and, honestly, sometimes Bruce is such a nerd, because of course he owns the island too. And of course it's a bat-island. Bat species in the Aegean are vulnerable to habitat loss and climate change (apparently), so the island offers a safe refuge. He tells Jason all of this with a very serious look on his face and all Jason can think is what a huge dork Bruce is. There's a tightness in his chest as he listens to Bruce explain, but it takes him a little while to realise the feeling is fondness.

Only a few local families live on Nykterides, Bruce says, as they sail up to the tiny harbour. The buildings are square and white, with some blue domes but mainly flat, low roofs. Conservation staff also live on the island, scientists and biologists too, and there's a small taverna on the shore where they can eat and drink together.

A boy, no more than 19 greets them as they approach. "Kalispera, Mr. Wayne." He flashes them a smile and Jason feels a little breathless all of a sudden. The boy's skin is a glowing golden bronze, his hair falling in dark, rich waves.

"Kalispera, Giannis." Bruce says, a hand on Jason's head. "This is Jason."

"Ah, like the Argonaut?" Giannis asks with a wink, and something in Jason's stomach flips. He thinks about Apollo, most beautiful of all the God's and tries not to blush.

Giannis serves them lunch, and they sit with George and the others on the island, in the shade of a few palms. They eat fresh caught mussels and clams, with salad of tomatoes and cucumber and olives. Fresh cheese with honey, and rice and vegetables wrapped in vine leaves. Jason feels like he's living in a dream, grins up at Bruce and smiles shyly at Giannis as they clink their glasses and say "Yamas!".

As the evening wanes, Giannis tries to teach Jason a few words of Greek.

"Efcharisto," The words roll off Giannis' tongue and Jason finds himself staring at the older boy's mouth.

"Eff-ha-rist-oh" Jason repeats, and Giannis laughs and says it's close enough.

That night Jason goes to bed giddy and breathless and dreams of Apollo.

~

The first time Jason realises he loves someone, truly loves them, other than his Mom that is, he's twelve. Just.

He and Bruce have been sailing for a week or so now, island hoping across the Aegean and the Cyclades. The sea breeze is just enough to keep away the mid-August heat and Jason is sure there isn't a more beautiful part of the world to be found.

Bruce has been promising something special for Jason's birthday. He's spent a lot of time on a ridiculous satellite phone (because there are zero bars in the middle of the sea) trying to sort whatever it is out. If he thinks too much about it, Jason's stomach flips with excitement, because what could possibly top all of this? Bruce is ridiculously rich, and just plain ridiculous, so it's probably a helicopter up to Mount Olympus or something totally crazy, which to be fair, would be beyond cool.

But when the night before his birthday Bruce comes to him looking forlorn, Jason is worried.

"I'm sorry Jay," Bruce says, and it looks like he's in physical pain for how sorry he is. "I really wanted to do something special for your birthday but it isn't going to work out."

"That's okay," Jason says, but before he can continue Bruce speaks again and says,

"I wanted to take you to Themyscira, and Diana thought she could get you in, but Hippolyta said no."

For the briefest of moments, Jason thinks he might be disappointed, but instead there's a rush in his chest and he laughs, head back and heart full. "Bruce, you big boob!" He says, shoving Bruce's arm. "Men aren't allowed on Themyscira."

Bruce slips his arm around Jason and pulls him in close for a hug. "Yeah, but you're just a little man, not a whole one. I thought they might make an exception."

"It would have been cool," Jason muses, from where his face is squashed against Bruce's chest. "But then I couldn't have spent my birthday with you."

Bruce makes a noise in his throat and hugs Jason a little tighter.

"Love you, B." Jason says, and it's the first time he's ever said it to anyone that wasn't his Mom.

Bruce grunts again, and hugs Jason even tighter. "Happy birthday, lad." He mumbles.

The air is warm, and the catamaran bobs lightly in the water. Waves lap at the hull and Jason grins.

He and Bruce sit and watch the stars together.

[television-overload]

fate is the handspike

(an X-Files ficlet)

[Read on AO3]

Summary:

Starting on February 23, 1964, Teena Mulder begins to worry about her young son. At first, she thinks maybe he's wishing for a little sister, a wish that will be granted very soon. But he insists the little girl he talks to is called Dana, and she's too little to play, but she likes when he reads his books to her.

(fic below the cut)

i.

At first, Teena thinks it's cute.

"She's just a baby, mommy, she can't play yet," he'd say.

"Oh, is that right?" she'd reply, indulging him in his childish fantasies. Perhaps this was his way of asking for a sister. The other moms in the neighborhood often urged her to give Fox a sibling, citing a child's need for company and social engagement, but Fox had always seemed so happy to play alone. She's not on the best of terms with her husband at the moment, either, which complicates things.

But then there's times when she sees Fox on the floor, legs splayed out before him as he recites his favorite picture books to his imaginary friend, and she wonders if she ought to be worried. Just a little.

Dr. Seuss, Curious George, Clifford the Big Red Dog... The boy has a photographic memory. Though he's too young to properly read, he has a grasp on the basic plots and recounts them in great detail, turning the pages as he goes.

"This one is called 'Where the Wild Things Are,' Dana," he says, because his friend's name—he insists—is Dana. He turns the book in his hand and shows the colorful illustration on the cover to a patch of carpet on the living room floor. "Don't worry, it's not scary," he assures her. Her. It. Whatever it is he's spent his days talking to since late February.

When he tells the story, he uses his own name, instead of 'Max.' That's how she'd always read it to him, and that's the only way he knows.

"And Fox told the monsters to be still!" he narrates with enthusiasm. "He used a magic trick and looked right in their BIG yellow eyes, and they were all scared. They said Fox is the most wild thing of all, and they made him king!"

ii.

There was one night when she'd woken to find Fox standing in the corner of his room, speaking softly to the wall.

"Shh, it's okay, Dana," he soothed in his little voice. "Here, I'll sing you a song. Twinkle twinkle little star...."

She never tells Bill what she's seen. He's always too busy to notice himself. But others know.

"He's quite an imaginative young fellow," Spender notes, taking a draw from his cigarette as Fox rolls around in the grass outside the house in Quonochontaug. Since "Dana" learned to crawl, he's been even more preoccupied than usual. He shows her all his toys, tells her the names of all his action figures. He announces to his mother one day that he's going to teach Dana how to walk. That she can only stand on her own for a little bit right now, but she doesn't cry anymore when she falls down.

Bill, if he ever catches wind of this, must think he's talking about one of the other kids from Teena's ladies' group. But there's no "Dana" in this neighborhood. Not on the Vineyard, either. She's checked.

iii.

The day she finds out she's pregnant, a part of her wonders. Though her knowledge of her husband's work is small, she knows enough to gather that things she might have thought impossible, could in fact be possible. Perhaps her son had been having visions of his baby sister, long before she was even conceived. Maybe it had simply been a sign that he would one day be a big brother. Soon.

She'd long since dispelled thoughts of ghosts and hauntings and exorcisms.

He tells Dana all about the baby in mommy's tummy. He giggles and makes silly faces, pausing in between sentences, which she gathers must mean his friend has developed the ability to speak.

"Mommy, she said my name! That's right! Fox! Fox!"

iv.

When Samantha is born, "Dana" seems to disappear overnight. This, at least, supports her theory that he had simply been preparing himself for a new sibling, and after a few years, she's completely dismissed the issue. Fox shows no other signs of strange or unusual behavior. He is nothing but a doting big brother, who occasionally gets annoyed by his freckle-faced kid sister, as any brother is wont to do. He reads to her, plays games with her, watches the television with her. They're two peas in a pod, and not once does the name "Dana" escape his lips. She is all but forgotten.

Until he's twelve years old. Samantha is gone, and Teena lacks the patience to deal with his questioning.

"Mom? Does the name 'Dana' mean anything to you?" he asks.

"What? Of course not, Fox, why would you ask such a thing?"

He looks down at his feet, shoulders slumping. "No reason. Forget I asked."

v.

When Fox lays awake at night, the bedroom next to his now dull and empty, he thinks he can hear a voice. It isn't Samantha's—though he'd thought so at first.

"By heaven, man," she reads, "we are turned round and round in this world, like yonder windlass, and Fate is the handspike. And all the time, lo! that smiling sky, and this unsounded sea!"

What does this girl know about fate? What does she know of this upside-down world?

"Read the next chapter, Dana!" he hears another girl's voice speak. The words are faint—muffled—like he's underwater. But her voice is clear.

He falls asleep, like most nights, listening to the tales of Ahab and Starbuck, and a great white whale.

-.-.-

Tag List ♡: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @numinousmysteries @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf @thursdayinspace

[vibingncrying]

I was cooking up a miraculous au for LCF/TCF

Then I thought, why not make an og Cale x Alberu one?

So, here you go:

(this isn't set in that au but a separate miraculous one)

Alberu Crossman as Adrien

Bob as Cat noir

og Cale Henituse as Marinette

Regressor (might come up with something else later idk) as Ladybug

White Star as Hawkmoth

I'd like to say they're not highschoolers or whatever they are in miraculous ladybug, they go to college or something

The miraculouses would also be bit different:

Og Cale: lady bug

Alberu: fox

Choi han: cat (haha)

White Star: butterfly

KRS is og Cale's cousin, in spirit, like they're not related but he was declared so

KRS's of course besties with the Soos and mostly hangs out with them. He wouldn't really make much appearances but does have some important scenes that I'll get to later on

The ws is not related to Alberu btw but his father is giving Gabriel so of course he's put in some sort of Adrien role

WS would call the hero version of og Cale 'a bug under his shoes' btw xdd

Alberu and og Cale go to the same college or something, not the same year probably

Their families are rich and they often need to attend a banquet or two here and there, even hold some

og Cale usually refuses to go, he makes up excuses, spills a drink here and there, brings up his actually pretty real injuries he got some places to get out of attending these events

Because of that it's mostly Basen who attends them but there are times Cale can't get out of going. Ron picks his outfits for that btw

Cale doesn't hang out with people much because he's trying to distance himself, despite his best efforts the eastern nobles still stick to him

He appreciates it really, but feels guilty possibly ruining their reputation. Eric Wheelsman does not care and drags him to places even outside of these events in an attempt to 'teach him better manners' but actually just to hang out

***

About Alberu's hero name- he was asked by a reporter but he internally panicked a little about will they won't they recognize him so Regressor who was next to him just told them he's Bob

Alberu's expression turned to a mix of offended disbelief and resigned acceptance at that. This is the last name anyone would associate with 'Alberu Crossman' though so he might as well use it... temporarily, then he'd come up with a better name later and correct it

Needless to say, later never came and he got stuck with it. No matter what he tells reporters it's a lost cause now. :(

***

The first akuma they take care of would be Toonka's. He gets very offending at some people looking down on him for not excelling in academics and overwhelmed by emotions gets himself akumatized

His akumatized version's name is 'The Tyrant' and makes him have enhanced strength as well as making him have stone skin, anyone he touches turns to that

Cale, Alberu make their debut subduing The Tyrant as Regressor and Bob. This is the first time they meet as their hero versions and despite some hiccups they manage to work together pretty efficiently

They get help from the Black Yong (Choi han hero name) who usually works together with Flame Mage (Rosalyn hero name) and Blue Wolf (Lock hero name)

They go on working together often because of the ladybug and cat miraculouses but usually Black Yong works with his own group

As time passes the Regressor and Bob duo work together with Black Yong and the others often enough to be counted as honorary members tho they still have their little own group or smth

(Unrelated but Choi han is like actually older than these two by quite a bit... It's the opposite of a Leorio situation, where instead of looking way older than he is, he looks way younger

He is the uncle of at the minimum-a-teenager Choi Jung Soo after all)

At first they don't know about how the akumas work because no one told them. It takes Cale panicking he doomed the whole place and them running around a bunch to solve the problem and agree to work together from now on if the need arises because it's just more efficient.

Regressor has a flashy style while Bob tends to work with or from the shadows (his Alberu persona is flashy enough as it is), Dark Yong is the brute of the group. Between all of them combined he has the most strength and stamina, uses sword arts to bring out the most of it while Regressor got the power of time that allows him better agility and Bob uses illusions to back them up and confuse enemies. All in all, through trial and error, practice and shouting matches, they make it work somehow.

There are other people who join them sometimes but everyone sorta got a set piece of the city they should look after

***

Another idea for an akumatized person would be Cage as the 'Crazy Priestess'. She got upset over Taylor Stan, her close friend, being bullied by his brother and some others.

I imagine one time Cale also almost got akumatized but recognizing the type of butterfly he just started frantically swatting at it and it somehow worked out xdd

***

Regressor likes teasing and getting under the skin of Bob as much as possible. Brings up his name every possible occasion but stops if he sees 'Bob' truly upset. He based his whole life over analyzing people's reactions so he always notices pretty quickly. He also pokes at Black Yong but he's more than ready to throw hands at insults.

Sometimes, Cale uses that to get injured enough to not need to go to events... after finding out Black Yong and Bob both pay attention not to fall for these destructive schemes.

Cale has a habit of trying to shake others off because he believes they're better of without him in general and Alberu likes to keep people at an emotional distance to protect himself from unmatched expectations from them so these habits sometimes show their ugly heads even with their hero personas. They work trough it tho, both as civilians and when they occasionally have some deep talks as heros.

***

They work as a group but often times they go work as pairs or solo as well when one of them is not available or busy fighting elsewhere. Black Yong can handle himself just fine, has been doing it for a while just not so publicly, Bob and Regressor often get things done together when they're still starting out (mostly because they're still figuring out how things work)

Regressor is different than Cale because he lets himself express the repressed parts of his personality. Working as a hero also helps him open up to the people who care about him because with every challenge he learns, with any 'mission' he slowly realizes a little more about himself and relationships in general.

Bob is also a 'more free' version of Alberu where despite him being covered from head to toe in a hero costume, this is when he can throw away his masks (however ironic that might be). He lets himself be openly exasperated way more often.

***

To get go to the shipping part- finally haha

Cale/Regressor likes Bob, is infuriated by Alberu Crossman but in a way that he keeps bringing him up with his 'fake smile' and 'smirking eyes' so much that people are questioning why and when he got so obsessed over the guy

Bob one time tries to defend Alberu's (his own) honor before Regressor/Cale only to be faced with the biggest theatrical betrayed look the other can manage to pull off, mouth open, eyebrows furrowed and everything

Alberu/Bob gave up on genuine romance long ago but is developing some feelings for Regressor. It's slow but definitely there. It's the first time this happened to him so he's still figuring out what to do about it but pretty much decides he'll just enjoy what they have till it lasts. He feels curious about Cale Henituse after they had one too many meetings and the other seems keen on laughing in mock silence whenever he gets swarmed by other rich idiots trying their chances with him

One time, to escape said fate at a banquet of sorts, he makes his way to the other and invites him to a dance with eyes that say 'you better say yes or I'm telling on you drinking after your Eric-hyung specifically asked you not to a minute ago'. Cale debated causing a scene to get out of it but after seeing the eastern nobles approach with Eric at front coming with big measured steps, he decided might as well take the offered hand before he gets both an earful about his drinking habits and also a lecture about instead pouring those liquid on others. Alberu couldn't figure out if the other agreeing with just a slight frown was a win or not.

They were both taught dancing as custom from a young age and thanks to it put on quite the performance while exchanging occasional jabs disguised as compliments and accidental compliments disguised as jabs.

If Alberu spent the night thinking about that dance more than he'd like to, that's only for him to know, and if Cale went home from the occasion in a surprisingly better mood than he arrived in, he'd say it was because he could finally leave that stupid place. And if his face flushed thinking back on it, he'd blame it on the alcohol.

***

Some things to mention,

people would be asked to take precautions because of the akuma attacks, if they see suspicious butterflies coming towards them, run the other direction or think happy thoughts

The heros would be investigating the White Star and his forces as civilians too, trying to solve the issues. It might even bring together some of them outside of costumes

***

The final fight would go something like this-

most heros are already out of commission (either their miraculouses are taken or they're simply knocked down) and some civilians get caught up in the battle

Regressor has already detransformed and frantically checking up on anyone nearby especially those he knows. The only thing slightly calming him is the fact his family is nowhere near the battle. Well, except his so called cousin, Kim Rok Soo. He was there with Choi Jung Soo. Choi han tried getting to them but he's already been grabbed by the White Star by the arm. Bob is nowhere to be found (he's actually on the other side trying to get people out of the battle zone faster with the police or something and also engaged with some of Arm's forces). Lee Soo Hyuk was nearby thankfully and grabs his two idiots to run to safety. Cale gets knocked out.

KRS while running notices some miraculouses where left around (he knows what they are from before), picks them up quickly and him being the unexpected variable needed to defeat the ws, the heros win. See? There's your important KRS scene. He was not used to using miraculouses tho and sorta gets knocked out because of it too xd

Now, there's a lot we can go into more detail about, especially what the heck was really going down in this fight, where are the other heros? How do they 'win' exactly?

There's also the shipping part that we could go into more detail about but this is it for now, maybe in another post :D

***

I only watched the first 2-3 seasons of miraculous and the movie so if my understanding of the world building is inaccurate it's most probably because of that

I have more ideas for this if you're interested btw, I should just try organizing them

Maybe I should make a og Choi han x og Cale version, that sounds so much easier... but my rare pair... anyway-

Someone give me a pat on the back if I actually end up writing any of this someday. I want to, but I don't know how to write bruh TT

[fujimomozane]

Magister Merlin Starhawk Info

Magister Merlin Starhawk, aka Merlin, Starhawk, Mage of the Stars, Starry Mage, a lazy bum who forgets to bring mugs out of his room, The Godfather of Magic, among others, is a half-treesprite half-human mage who was born in 200 B.H.W (Before the Hypogean War). 

  He is renowned as the discoverer of magic in around 190 B.H.W, having discovered healing magic by saving his hamster, Hammie, from near death- she later became the first-ever familiar. It is said that Dura herself granted him the key to unlock magic as a mortal. 

  He discovered almost all types of magic, including transformation spells by turning into a starhawk, and glamour spells by binding his chest. 

  He participated in the Hypogean-Celestial War of 1 A.H.W. (After the Hypogean War). It was rumored that he had become a Celestial. 

  After centuries of critical research in magic, astronomy, alchemy, potions, and natural sciences, Magister Merlin Starhawk disappeared in the 15th century A.H.W., often called "The Fall" of the mage, in keeping with the star theme. 

  He first reappeared in 17th century A.H.W., disappeared again, and did so a second time. The legends about the mage continued to spread across the world. 

  The third time, he appeared in the current year 1824 A.H.W. without his memories. He is slowly regaining them, but some are out of reach, as though they are locked away. 

  Hammie knows only that he has been "restarted" thrice, where he was the times he vanished is a mystery to everyone. Not much changed with each restart. 

  But by the third restart, his horns were reduced to nearly imperceptible buds that grow when he finds out more about his past, and binds were placed to keep his incredibly strong magic at bay. 

  Merlin will recover his memories no matter what they might reveal and meet new people along the way. 

  Hopefully, they will steer him clear of repeating his Fall. 

  Relationships: Talene (ex-best friend), Dionel (ex-friend), Hypogeans (enemies), Hammie & Chippy (familiars), Dolly (house caretaker), Lady Illucia (???), Cecia (???), General Hogan (a friend from his second restart), Mirael (student from his second restart), Valen (good friend), Rowan (like a niece to him), Lyca (astronomy friend), Cassade (biggest fan), Bryon (bird man and friend), Soren & Alsa (friends), Silverbeak (minion), Satrana (divination expert), Sinbad (good friend), Hugin (engineering buddy), Sonja & Lucca (intimidating friends), Tasi (friend), Bols (fishing expert). 

Posted this so people have some info on Merlin before I post any fanfics, in case someone is curious or doesn't want to read future ff to get info on him. Bonus random facts I couldn't fit in properly below cut:

  Bonus random facts I couldn't fit in properly but will probably be covered in future fanfic: He's 165cm tall.  He's a vegetarian because he feels bad for animals. He faints... a lot. He's trans and intersex. Collects minerals and watches, and he is obsessed with birds and hamsters. His identity as treesprite-human has been lost over the ages so he hides his ears and horn stubs (which seem to be slowly growing as he regains his memories?) Has an enchanted hat that he seldom takes off. Has a lot of nightmares. Has endless pseudonyms, his latest being "Vulpin" (because he saw a drawing of a fox on a building) upon introduction to Valen. Eventually Valen finds out about the charade though.

Ironically, he has poor long-range vision (about -1 in each eye, but the right sees worse).  Has a penchant for extravagant outfits.  The two golden bands around his hair don't come off.   He went grey at the ripe old age of... 20. His original hair color was bronze, and he wanted to keep his brows dark even after he turned grey, but the spell went awry and now they are permanently jet black along with his lashes. 

  His eyes have always been yellow- a gift from Misarte, according to the wilders.   His mother was a treesprite musician from Vaduso, and his father was an human ex-sailor and merchant from Holistone. His mother was 210 centimeters tall (without her horns, mind you) and his father was 180 centimeters tall. Neither were short, but Merlin is the outlier in terms of height in his family. His grandmothers always blamed it on him not eating enough. He thinks he just lucked out. 

[incorrect-green-lantern-quotes]

So I was looking up Wonder Woman's Star Sapphire appearances and apparently there's one from Robinson's run? I looked it up and it's Annual #2 from 2018- wait, is that an animal paw?

Yo, there's a Star Sapphire fox (Sapphox?)

I have no idea if this is an alien that just happens to resemble an Earth creature like Ch'p or B'dg, or if they're an actual animal with a power ring like Dex-Starr. If it's the latter, and the Star Sapphire Corps only has one or two members per sector like the Green Lanterns do, that would make this fox Carol's partner/replacement, and that's fucking hilarious

This was a pretty fun read ngl. The Star Sapphires feel less like the GL's sexy sidekicks and more like an actual Lantern Corps- right down to their Central Battery getting rekt and needing a special Earth inhabitant to save the day lmaooo

Damn they really looked Wonder Woman in the eye and told her she wasn't even their first choice and that Carol Ferris is better than her. Ouch

Jokes aside, this one Wonder Woman annual did more to develop the Star Sapphires than Geoff Johns's entire run. Diana's history with them from Blackest Night is explicitly mentioned and she even recognizes the two blue ladies speaking to her as Miss Bloss and Miri Riam. Plus, there's actual diversity of body shapes and most of the Corps aren't dressed like space strippers (look, the bar was below the fucking floor)

Hell, Robinson even has Diana point out that this isn't an all-girls club anymore!

[faustianfascination]

the night of the lonely beast

pairing: Gilbert Von Obsidian x fem!OC fandom: Ikemen Prince

Gilbert is invited to the wedding of Chevalier & Emma as a sign of diplomatic harmony, however seeing the woman he'd longed for marry his old friend/adversary stirs up a deep loneliness in the conquering beast. Until a brave little fox decides to tempt a tiger. words: 5213 Minors DNI tags/warnings: penetrative sex (vaginal), first time, loss of virginity, rough sex, biting, gilbert being gilbert

many thanks for @scummy-writes & @rjthirsty for being a Gil sounding board and helping me get back into the writing groove

The hypocrisy of it all was farcical, the same nobles who gossiped about the bride's unsuitable breeding for the position of Queen now bowed politely and pulled on their finest fake smiles to wish the happy couple happiness in their marriage; all while plotting how they would slip their daughters into Chevalier's bed. The discussions on how they could use their positions as the Queen's new ladies-in-waiting to charm the King made Gilbert want to throw up, but he like every noble here was hiding behind a mask of faux joy because that is how this game is played. The invite to the wedding had been a surprise after the trip to Obsidian, however it was a smart diplomatic move, showing a picture of international harmony after finally settling the treaty and there was a small part of Gilbert that looked at Emma and Chevalier wrapped in love and joy that made the last remaining shred of goodwill towards his old fried happy for him. 

However, he was not a good man and even that little shred of selfless joy was being drowned out by a more jealous, lonely beast rising up in his chest. He didn't care much for alcohol beyond warming his body but tonight he indulged a little, the burn of the Bentonite booze drowning out the subtle ache in his chest. Like hell he was going to drown his sorrows in that obnoxiously sweet rose infused nonsense, especially now in a hall filled with fake sweetness. Even with international relations thawing, he was still treated with open suspicion and hostility, which was fair he didn't mind the honesty but what was most galling was the nobles who failed to hide their disdain for him fully while trying to get things from him, be it trade deals or investment. But still like flies swarming to a rats carcass they buzzed around him and he was struggling to fight back the urge to reveal the gun in his cane and end the conversations once and for all. Although even he knew that starting a massacre at a wedding reception was a bit much, even for him. Even if a piece of him wanted to use the distraction to capture the little rabbit and steal her away, seeing that pure white dress dyed with blood and the sin of choosing this life. 

The elegant music began to fill the room, causing the flies to buzz away to the edges of the dance floor giving him some space as he drew back to the shadowed edges. At the centre, the bride and groom took to the floor alone, the stars of this pantomime as they swept gracefully together as though made for each other. The thought made something deep in his chest twinge, like watching a long held dream crumble in front of him. But wasn't that exactly what she was? The dream, the purehearted girl so clean and bright that no amount of filth could taint, someone who he poured all his deepest wishes into as if to prove his foolish younger self right. But, she wasn't a girl, she was a woman, a very beautiful woman; still pure of heart and soul but different from his imaginings and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. He let his eyes drift from the couple, watching the faces of the other princes lit with happiness at the harmonious scene but he caught it even if it was faint. In Nokto and Clavis' eyes, a touch of melancholy that came from watching the women you desired ride off into the sunset with someone who wasn't you. Clavis' inclusion in this lonely little club was not surprising, a man driven by his inferiority to his brother would of course desire the charming rabbit who made him human, but Nokto? The man who had slept with most of the court was a surprise, then again perhaps the most beautiful heart in the kingdom is what the philanderer needed to capture his attention because she would always be out of his reach. Gilbert's cheeks hurt with the effort of forcing an appropriate face and there was an unpleasant feeling in his throat that made him look anywhere but the happy scene. Very few people were bold enough to meet his gaze, so there was a small feeling of shock when his eyes caught another pair in the sea of people gazing directly at him, his surprise intensifying as when his eyes met theirs they did not look away or flash with fear. Instead they held his gaze, without a trace of fear. Only bright undisguised interest, he realised that he was gazing into the eyes of a young woman who seemed to be the only other one in the room not enraptured by the sight of the couple, it was strange and tugged at some long forgotten feeling. With that observation Gilbert stealthily edged his way out of the room away from the suffocating love story in front of him. 

The air in the rose gardens was refreshing, enough to wash away the buzz of the alcohol as he strode deeper into the night. The palace was like a blinding candle in comparison to the quiet and dark gardens further from the celebration. The peace was a double edged sword, it gave him some breathing room but further made the pangs of loneliness more apparent, with nothing but the moonlight and roses to keep him company as he came to a stop and lent wearily on his cane; he wasn't one to reminisce fondly but the alcohol and the loss of the little rabbit seemed to be breaking down the walls he had built to protect himself. He would never have this, he intended to be the last of his line and with his health he didn't see the point of marrying nor did he want to be bound by the strings of nobility, using their daughter and his children to their advantage. Just as he and his mother had been used. It wasn't until after his mother died he realised the true extent of the horrors she suffered at his father's hands, once she was gone his father took a string of mistresses. Some arrogant on the power of being in the Emperor's bed, but quickly killed and thrown away especially if they became pregnant. 

Bastards were frowned upon in Obsidian, the Emperor was deeply offended by their existence so he'd never allow a pregnant mistress to live. Despite this, the great houses of Obsidian were happy to throw their daughters into such a fate for just a sliver of power. One always stood out in his mind, she was the one mistress Gilbert remembered vividly. Mostly because she was obscenely young and painfully kind to him never trying to use her position only, seeming to want to survive long enough to escape the castle walls. Nausea swelled in his gut when he remembered the night he saw her limping out of his father's room, battered and bleeding, stifling sobs in the darkened corridor. The moment she noticed him adopting a practised mask of propriety. The wince in her curtsy making it all the more absurd. Not long after she was taken out on a hunting trip with the Emperor, only to be the intended prey after it was discovered she was pregnant, as if his father's actions had nothing to do with her state. The first girl was sneaked into his room was when he was 14, she was shaking with fear while trying to seduce him like a child being made to play at adult games. He sent her away quickly but there began a steady stream of girls sent to him as brood mares when his position as successor was more secure, it was disgusting. It also hurt him, to see these girls sent to him, scared to be in his presence but still trying to get pregnant by him like a prize stallion. As he tamed the court the visits dwindled and eventually ended but it still was an unpleasant memory. 

His dark memories faded back into the shadows of his mind as he felt he was no longer alone, delicate footfalls coming up cautiously behind him. Someone was certainly feeling brave tonight. Even with the alcohol in his system his senses were still sharp and he decided to lay a trap for this foolish visitor. The ruffle of fabric floating over grass confirmed what he already suspected; the owner of those eyes had followed him out here. The movements slowed coming to a halt a little away from him, seems they at least had some survival instinct. Whoever it was drew their breath about to make their greeting as he turned and with reflexive ease caught the underside of their chin with the tip of the cane

"it's rude to follow people" he smiled down at the woman in front of him, caught mid curtsy her back braced like a swan about to take flight from a river; elegant and enticing in equal measure. 

"please forgive my insolence your imperial highness" despite her situation she held almost unnaturally still, looking him straight in the eye again. There was something in that utter fearlessness Gilbert liked, he observed her as she remain at the tip of his cane and took closer notice of those eyes, a pleasing lilac that felt almost otherworldly in their brightness. They never wavered under his gaze, a defiance there that he rarely encountered. He lowered his cane and a subtle nod allowed her to stand again, appraising her as she straightened. It wasn't that Gilbert didn't feel lust, he could appreciate beauty it simply wasn't something he had the luxury of entertaining but tonight even that seemed to fall by the wayside as his eyes took in her form, slight curves hidden under the layers of fabric of her mossy coloured gown that was simpler yet more elegant than many of the others he had seen that night. Without bows and jewels to cover her natural beauty she seemed to shine brighter, the low cut of the bodice allowing him a glimpse of her breasts framed by sharp collar bones barely hidden under the lacy cloak, all her features had a sharpness from her cheekbones to the rich dark of her hair, she was hard to look away from. As his eyes scanned her again, a single silver pendant drew him back to her chest as it rested between her breasts. She seemed more delicate than Emma in some ways with less pronounced curves but her angular beauty more intense, more aggressive than the softness of the rabbit. Foxlike almost. Where the little rabbit was more bashful, she was more brazen shown by the way she approached him and now held herself with a boldness that made something in him burn. It was an impulse but he offered his arm to his guest and was more than a little surprised that she accepted it, this beauty allowing his beast close, close enough the feel the warmth radiating from her body. They walked deeper into the gardens the sound of their steps muffled by the grass, only the odd rustle of fabric on bushes interrupting the peace, oddly it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Gilbert looked over at her again, the urge to bite into the pale flesh of her shoulder more than a little tempting but his thoughts were interrupted by her airy voice

"I suppose I should tell you my reason for seeking you out, as enjoyable as this walk is" she began unprompted. She wasn't trying to hide her request in pleasantries and got straight to the point, another mark in her favour. Pulling them both to a halt as she positioned her body too look directly at him "my intentions are hardly pure so there is no point to beat around the bush. I'd like to spend the night with you, your Imperial Highness"

How bold indeed, so bold it made him chuckle. 

"brazen little fox aren't you" Gilbert said "you realise I'm not a good man, hardly one a maiden like you should be provoking" his gloved hands coming to brush her cheek, his fingers grazing down her jaw until they rested upon the pulse point of her neck. The beat was calmer than he expected so he wrapped his hand around her neck, not enough to hurt but warn her of the consequences of her recklessness. Even with this, she held her ground, never wavering in her resolve which made the little heat in his body begin to pool between his thighs. 

"I'm perfectly aware of your reputation you Imperial Highness. I have more respect for those that wear their fangs openly rather than distracting you with sweet lies while they stab you in the back. It's a refreshing change" she countered, Gil felt a familiar exhaustion with the duplicity of nobility the shared displeasure piqued his curiosity, although he was getting weary of the burden of his title. 

"Gil, since you're bold enough to make this request I'll consider you a friend. And my friends call me Gil" he smiled, hand still around her neck. It wouldn't take much to crush the air from her.  "Since we're friends, why not tell me your name and why exactly you're propositioning me so boldly" 

"Waverley Burgundy, and well Gil, reason is simple you're a handsome man and I want to enjoy my first time with a handsome man of my choosing before I'm sent off to be some old lout's plaything. Also, misery loves company" she said with pointed conviction, and Gilbert could tell that no word of it was a lie. The smile he wore began to truly reach his eyes, and even now she didn't shy away from him. His nickname fell from her lips so easily, something the little rabbit was unable to do. He drew a little closer, their bodies creating more points of contact, her warmth inviting him further into this temptation. 

"There are plenty men in that ballroom that you could play with, far less dangerous. Perhaps you should even save yourself for that husband of yours, or do the nobility of Rhodolite not place much value in such things" he brought his lips to her ear, enjoying the intimacy more than he cared to admit. Filling his nostrils with her scent clouded his mind enough to give him respite from the little rabbit's ghost in his heart. Even now though she still surprised him, a sharp laugh filling the space between them

"You're the man I found most handsome, and actually he paid extra for my virtue but would you want to endure the first touch being that of a gout laden man, old enough to be your grandfather flopping around on top of you" the bitterness cutting into her voice. With that he pulled back, letting his hand drop from her neck and appraised her again. Perhaps she would work as a distraction from his own miserable fate, even if just for a night they could put off the inevitable for a little while. This wasn't the conquering beast thinking, simply Gilbert the man and the beast that was made in lust but he needed to give her an out; himself an excuse to not be reckless despite the hardness growing in his trousers begging him to give in. 

The silence hung in the air and she seemed to lose a little of that confidence "although, if you're not interested I shall not push it and leave you in peace Gil" it was the way her voice wrapped around his name again that broke his resolve, his lack of an answer seeming to lure her into the thought he was rejecting her. No, she was too lovely a prey to let go, so as she began to pull away he grabbed her. Her body came crashing into his, his arms winding around her waist and teeth finding her shoulder before she could escape him. Her skin tasted lovely, the smell of sage and pomegranate filling his nose as his teeth bit hard into her flesh through the lace of her cloak the sharp texture of taut lace adding to the sensation of her flesh. The moan she let out was dangerously erotic as he sucked on the mark, ensuring it would blaze brightly, showing everyone she was his prey now. One hand came to hold the back of her neck, making her stay and look at him as he released her neck from his jaws  "I never said you could leave" was all he got out before she kissed him.  Her lips claiming his in an adorable act of faux control. It didn't take long to invade her pretty mouth with his tongue, her heat filling him more and more as he felt her arms come around his neck and pull him closer. 

It took Gilbert's full resolve not to throw her to the ground of the rose gardens but he was a gentleman, she had sought him out to enjoy her first time and he would do her the courtesy of at least giving her a bed because he knew he couldn't promise to be gentle. Gil wasn't a virgin per say, the things he and Roderick had done over the years seeing to that, but it was the first time he'd taken a woman to his bed and he couldn't help but feel a little nervous at his lack of experience. He probably couldn't be as rough with her as he was with Roderick…yet. 

He had grabbed her after the kiss and pulled her towards his room as quickly as he could manage without running or aggravating his lungs. Each stride reminding him of how uncomfortable restrictive formal wear was with an erection but she kept pace with him with equal enthusiasm. There was something in that which made part of him feel a little happy, to have someone simply want him without conditions was rare, to have a woman actively seek him out and not cower in his presence made him feel human for once not a walking terror. In a quiet place buried deep in his soul it reminded him of when he was a child and simply dreamed of love before the world shattered those hopes, it was the same feeling the rabbit brought him, but this was different. 

Instead of melancholy imaginings alone in his room was a warm lively body writhing under him as he pressed her into the bed, kissing and biting every bit of flesh he could touch arousing a symphony breathy moans, whimpers and pretty calls of his name. There was even a giggle when he brushed his fingers over a spot on her neck that was particularly ticklish, kissing her into submission when she tried to apologise. Waverley didn't just lay there, her lips capturing his, her teeth biting his lips, their bodies twined and jostled for dominance and he eventually relented and pulled her atop him, enjoying the sensation of her body draping over his. Feeling her hands slipping between his clothes seemingly as desperate to touch him as he was her stoked his desire further, it was intoxicating to want and be wanted in return. He took the opportunity to loosen the lacing on her dress until it started to slip down her slowly revealing her breasts in their full glory. She brought herself to straddle him grinding over his crotch enough to make his hips buck a little, he let his hands squeeze and play with her breasts, teasing and pinching her nipples through his gloves but he wanted to feel her fully. Gil sat up and grabbed hold of her face again to make her look at him, her face flushed and confused as he stopped touching her. 

"Open your mouth" he commanded, slipping the tip of his gloved finger between her lips only for her to start sucking gently which made him chuckle, he would ensure to reward such diligent action. 

"how lewd, jumping straight to obscenity. Very entertaining but not what I wanted. Bite the tip" as he issued his command he saw her realise what his intention was and she glowed brighter red. It was thoroughly adorable watching the gap between her desires and experience. She bit down on the glove tip of each finger to loosen them, and he finally freed his hand of one glove. Too impatient to play that game again he pulled off the other himself, it gave her the chance to slip out of his lap but as he motioned to grab her she held his chin. 

"to remove my dress" she said into his lips, kissing him while working the fabric off before taking her place back in his lap freed of the layers of silk and satin. It didn't take long before she was back under him, her hands working his clothes off as quickly and haphazardly with varying success. His various belts ended up providing more of a challenge than either of them anticipated and seeing her struggling under him to undo them all was an amusing sight. 

"having trouble are we?" he smirked. He was being cute in the annoying way which made her huff and lay back with a sweet little pout

"who needs so many damn belts" she grumbled covering her chest with her arms and looking away from him as he removed his garments. Her eyes darted to his body as he stripped, the lust blatant but her nerves getting the better of her. He was enjoying the show and when he finally dropped his trousers she stopped hiding her gaze, her mouth making a cute little 'o' as she took him in. There was a moment of still in the darkened room as Gil enjoyed the sight of the naked beauty on his bed and she raked her eyes over him. Then he pounced on her again and started adorning her body with bites, from her chest to her hips. The unfamiliar sensation of skin on skin contact made him feel like he would burn alive; he savoured the taste of skin, especially the skin of her breasts, enjoying the feeling of sucking and biting her nipples her body reacting so honestly to him. His other hand ran down her waist to the valley between her legs and he nearly moaned at how wet she was, but she needed more to make this truly pleasurable and focused his ministrations on her bud, twisting and rubbing it between his fingers. 

Gilbert had to catch his breath at the feeling of her hand around his cock, working him like he was working her. The firm grip and her thumb swirling around the tip ruining him more than he'd like to admit. Their bodies rutted together, nails cut into Gilbert's back as she panted his name, his own pants muffled by keeping his teeth busy on her chest. His patience was wearing thin though so he slowly slid a finger inside her, causing her to still and her head to roll back. Her cunt felt warm and gripped his finger in a way that made his cock throb, so much so he pulled her hand away so because it was all getting too much. Soon three fingers and his thumb were pushing her body further into pleasure, he felt her flutter and tense under him, arching as she climaxed on his fingers yelling his name with abandon. The flood of her left a wet patch on the sheet, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked each digit as she gazed as if mesmerised by him. She was sweet on his tongue, the only sweet thing he'd enjoyed tonight. 

She lay beneath him, her body trembling and sensitive for him and it was a sight that crated a warmth deep in the darkness of his heart. His prey there so open and vulnerable with a beast like him, it felt satisfying for a conqueror to be welcomed openly. Her eyes always met his, it was something even the little rabbit couldn't consistently manage. 

"Gil" her voice cut through his reverie, a flush of fear flashing in her eyes, but not of him. Even he knew that the pain of the first time was hammered into women before they were sent to be wedded and bedded and there was little he could do to sooth her fully. Only do his best to make it as comfortable as possible, so he caressed her face again and then opened her legs to finally enjoy her fully, every inch of her was beautiful but her flushed and twitching cunt was the most bewitching, evidence of how much she wanted him. He kept a strong grip on her hips, perhaps the pressure of his fingers a distraction as he lined up to finally sink into her. He ran the tip of his cock along her wet folds, making him bite his lip as he found her entrance. He wouldn't be mean but there was no point dragging it out so he started pushing in, the sight of his cock sliding into her was perhaps the most divine thing he'd ever seen. It was overwhelming, tightness squeezing him with warmth, her silk walls fluttering and clenching around his cock better than the way it felt on his fingers. Gil had the realisation that perhaps he wasn't going to last as long as he wanted but it's not like this would be the only round of the night. If he was alone he'd end up with visions of the little rabbit being ravished on her wedding night would creep into his mind and that may potentially drive him to destroy this poxy little country once and for all.

Her breathing became faster, eyes closing as tears leaked out and her hands balled the sheets. Her legs crushed against his waist and he could feel the tension in her hips as she clenched him so tight it bordered painful. He rubbed reassuring circles on her hips, leaning forward to kiss and nibble her neck to distract and slowly he sheaved himself inside her, savouring the feeling of it, from the crushing pressure on his dick to the way his balls rested against her. They lay still, breathing and kissing while she adjusted to him, it was a small mercy he could offer. The moment felt endless, both wonderful and hellish as he waited and finally she wrapped her arms around his shoulder and kissed him again. He took it as a cue to finally move, starting gentle but soon building to a rougher harsher rhythm. The cute pain of her nails clawing his back was fun, Gil wondered how hard he'd need to fuck her to make her draw blood. Her legs wrapped around him as he pounded her into the mattress making the bed creak and squeak as she kissed his neck and shoulders, clawed his back and all the sensations he was feeling were building into something he couldn't describe. The rational part of his mind shutting off and only the most primal beast remaining, it was almost blissful if the urge to pour his seed into her over and over again until she was completely marked as his wasn't getting harder to resist. It was a risk he couldn't take but how he longed to see his semen overflowing from her pretty cunt, a dark place in his mind wondering how lovely she'd look with a swollen belly and breasts heavy with his heirs but that was a fantasy too far. But, he could feel her orgasm on his cock, it had been delightful on his fingers, he couldn't imagine how much better it would feel now. 

Gil sat back on his heels, with Waverley's legs still wrapped around his waist he took in the sight of her trembling and panting on his cock. It was incredible, he could look at this forever. She was even more beautiful like this, hair messily framing her face, her eyes blown with desire and looking at him with earnestness that made something in his chest twist. He couldn't help but look at where they were joined, the scent and feeling of her come was something he wanted to never forget; it also gave him access to that little bud that would drive her to utter ruin and he began relentlessly stimulating it with his fingers. The effect was immediate, she clenched and spasmed around him, her hips bucking and back arching as her body fucked itself on him by instinct. She tried to squeeze her eyes shut as her cunt squeezed his cock and it felt like he was on fire but he wanted to see her face as he ruined her, make her keep looking him in the eyes so he held her face to she had to look at him, slipped this thumb into her mouth. Her eyes watered but she took his unspoken command and did her best to hold his gaze until she couldn't stop her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. With all the stimulation she didn't last long and he was rewarded with feeling her climax on his cock, it was so tight he felt like she'd never let him go, almost pulling him deeper into her body. Her moans of his name had become so loud he was sure it was echoing down the hall. The satisfaction of her making him feel this good and enthusiastically screaming his name in the Rhodolite palace on the little bunny's wedding night just made it all the more fantastic. Gods he was petty wasn't he… 

Her body began to relax under him, it wouldn't take much for him to finish now so he went back to his rough pace trying to keep enough of his wits about him not to fill her like he wanted, but to mark her instead. It all happened quickly, he somehow managed to pull himself out of her warmth to paint her with his seed. It may not be quite as satisfying as finishing inside her but this was still a nice sight, her stomach and the underside of her breasts covered in pearly white splashes, they complimented the deep reds of his bites all over her. She was trembling still, but the weariness was evident in her body so Gil set to the task of cleaning her up with a tenderness that even surprised him. If he was Silvio, she'd have been evicted from his bed already but Gil wasn't finished with her yet, and he pulled her under the sheets with him. Her body was even warmer now and he held her close to him, ensuring she knew she wasn't being freed from him. 

They never stopped kissing or touching each other until she fell into a light sleep. Gil watched her as she dozed, taking a strand of her dark hair and twisting it around his fingers, inhaling the woody scent while he recovered and began to think of the other positions he intended to make with her as the night deepened. 

[lgbtqreads]

Do you have some historical fiction recs that feature trans (preferably genderqueer/nonbinary) characters?

Sure do! First off, EE Ottoman is a treasure trove for this - A Matter of Disagreement, The Doctor's Discretion, The Companion... def check him out. Alexis Hall's another good author to check out; Something Spectacular in particular is exactly what you're looking for, as is Cat Sebastian's Unmasked by the Marquess. Oh, and you'll definitely want Caro de Robertis's The Palace of Eros.

Also check out Confessions of the Fox by Jordy Rosenberg, All the White Spaces by Ally Wilkes, Self-Made Boys by Anna-Marie McLemore, and Most Ardently by Gabe Cole Novoa, all of which star trans men or boys, and Wrath Goddess Sing by Maya Deane for a trans woman.

Coming up in 2025, keep A Gentleman's Gentleman by TJ Alexander and The Lilac People by Milo Todd, and then in 2026, TJ Alexander has another one that'll perfectly fit the bill called A Lady for All Seasons, so definitely keep them on your radar!

[pajulammas]

[Chivalrous Devotion AU] Reference sheets for some of the supporting characters!

Nimue's designs were designed by @tillytilli!

The fic can be read here!

Twitter | Bluesky

More info under the cut!

The Blacksmith:

Maoilios the Blacksmith, known as Smithy, is a 43-year-old two-tailed fox. He's the best blacksmith in Camelot and knows a thing or two about weapons. His knowledge and skills are very appreciated. That wasn't always the case, though. Smithy was very ostracized during his first years, as everyone seemed to think that a two-tailed fox would bring bad luck and curses. Smithy spent most of his time doing research and building swords, which made Arthur was curious about him. Not wanting to scare the fox away, he approached him in disguise and befriended him, nicknaming him Smithy for his blacksmith skills. After seeing that Smithy was just a lonely boy living in a burrow all alone, Arthur invited him to live with him. Smithy was very shocked to find out his new friend was King Arthur himself. Arthur worked hard to make sure no one saw Smithy as a bad omen and took good care of the little fox. It didn't take long for the two to form a close brotherly bond. Smithy really looks up to the king and admires him, even after 35 years.

Nimue:

Nimue is known as the Lady of the Lake. She is a magical fairy enchantress, who disguises herself as a hedgehog to be more approachable to mortals. She knows a lot about sacred weapons, and even gifts them to knights she deems worthy. She often has missions for knights, and Sir Percival especially likes to fulfill them. Nimue has grown quite fond of the knightess and looks forward to her visits. She is also the foster mother of Lancelot, who lost his family and home castle when he was just a little boy. Nimue took him in and taught him how to fight, eventually gifting him the sacred sword made from the stars, Arondight. And when Lancelot had his own son Galahad, Nimue naturally took the role of a grandmother, helping Lancelot take care of the young boy and looking after him when Lancelot had to go on his missions. She also taught Galahad to fight and gifted him a cinquedea which has telekinetic powers. While teaching fighting isn't the most conventional way for parenting, Nimue genuinely cares for both Lancelot and Galahad, and considers them her family.

King Arthur:

King Arthur Pendragon is the legendary king of Camelot and the leader of the Knights of the Round Table, as well as the alternate reality doppelgänger of Sonic the Hedgehog himself. He owns the sacred sword Caliburn which can transform into the legendary Excalibur. He can always be seen carrying its scabbard which was a gift from Nimue. The scabbard protects him, preventing any wound he receives from bleeding. His looks aren't the only thing that resemble Sonic – he's friendly and laid-back but can be short-tempered, has a strong sense of justice, and treats everyone equally. He's a skilled fighter, a fast runner, and the most powerful knight in the land. While he isn't as fast as Sonic is, Arthur is physically stronger than him. However, Arthur mysteriously disappeared three years ago, and no one knows what happened to him. The court isn't worried anymore, as Sonic's arrival's timing was just right – they believe Sonic is the lost king. While Sonic must pretend to be Arthur who has lost his memories, he also wonders what even happened to the king. Will he be back one day, and will Sonic be in trouble if he does return?

[orangez3st]

Neither Right or Wrong

Entry to @clonexocweek - 02.15.25: What If... | Event Masterpost

What If Lesiil was a Jedi General over the Coruscant Guard?

Tags & Warnings: jedi au, forbidden relationship, implied sexual acts (no explicit descriptions at all, it's kinda going vaguely in the background), declarations of love, a few star wars swear words Pairing: Fox x Det. Lesiil Thrace (OFC Crime Investigator) Word Count: 3.8k A/N: SHE has gathered a micro fanbase 🥹🥹 This is me falling in love with my own OC again, her brain is humongous I swear and she's so pretty. Jedi!Lesiil is still a smart badass with her very own Space Sherlock Holmes core, now with newly added features: hardcore parkour lady. You 🫵🏼 accept it. Enjoy this one, thanks for all the love! 💞

Edit: Lesiil now has her own RP blog! Go to @corrie-crime-solver's askbox and ask anything about true crime or the Marshal Commander 🔍

“ANAKIN SKYWALKER YOU PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!”

Boisterous laughter echoes through the hall they're running along… or more like Anakin is running along. Lesiil is thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, his arm securely around her waist as she pounds his back with her fists, tirelessly in the beginning, but now she has resorted to only shout at him.

“It’s just you're so small!”

“I am 5’7, that number is absolutely not small! You're bigger!” She gives a light yelp and another slap to his back when he jostles her, wind blowing past her coiled ponytail and blood rushing to the top of her head. “And taller!”

Eventually exhaustion catches up to the man, her childhood friend during their padawanship in the Temple. Their age difference? Not so far. Merely 3 years. He'd been assigned to Obi-Wan Kenobi – whose questionable knighthood had been accelerated, after Qui-Gon Jinn tragically died in Naboo – while she'd had just been apprenticing under Master Windu for two years. Upon being approached by her for the first time at Master Jinn's funeral, little Ani found a new safe place to confide all his internal turmoil in, and since then their friendship had flourished.

Anakin puts her down, sweat and the biggest stupid smile gracing his face after such a sport. He picked her up when she was heading to a meeting chamber where her former master and the Grand Master of the Order have been waiting for her, requesting her presence.

Lesiil gives him a last playful swat across his bicep.

“That was quite a run, Anakin,” Obi-Wan muses out of nowhere, appearing from one of the rooms with a held back grin. “If only you could do that in such exact speed in our last mission.”

“Hey I still ran faster than you–” he points at the other man “–Obi-Wan.”

As the men trades playful banter among themselves, Lesiil calls upon the Force to restore her strength and calm her breathing, and perhaps snake out a tendril to friendly, teasingly, poke Anakin in the back of his mind. Their bond is still active, between good friends, even though they're oftentimes separated in the war. He's in the front lines cutting through droids with spectacularly out-of-the-box strategies, while she remains planetside on Coruscant, stationed in Coruscant Guard Headquarters ensuring planetwide security.

“Alright, men, listen up,” the Marshal Commander began, the other 64 commanders of the corps were standing in attention in the assembly hall and watching on with anticipation. “With the Jedi Council’s advice to the Supreme Chancellor’s office over the wellbeing and security of this entire planet, they have assigned us one of their own to help in our efforts. Starting today, our corps, and all of us, are now under the command of High Jedi General Lesiil Thrace.”

Among others.

Chasing criminals. Routine patrols. Capturing enemy of the state. Countless hours spent in the command room, briefing and debriefing, dismantling and reassembling and altering strategies. Senatorial security. Prison duty. Even secretly busying herself in her small kitchen of her barrack quarters in the building, offering a huge batch of her home Alderaani dishes for the on-call troopers who passed by, in time for latemeal.

She'd never want to be a neglecting General, after all. And Marshal Commander Fox has been helpful to keep her up to the clones’ upbringing… her men’s upbringing.

She refused a seat in the council. It was a reluctant offer, after all. Aside that she is too young a High Jedi General of her own admission, the other Master's are far wiser.

Lesiil lets the remains of her fond chuckles fade away, and promptly cuts into their banter. “If you two are finished, I have a meeting to attend to. I will catch you both at dinner tonight?”

Anakin visibly pouts. Ah, still a child at heart, this man. “Can't do, Les. We're deployed in four hours.”

She smiles emphatically. “Later times then, Ani.”

“How is Coruscant treating you, Lesiil?” Obi-Wan chimes in, a kind smile upon his bearded face, albeit teasingly, “Not casting a boredom on you yet, I hope?”

“I am undoubtedly less experienced than you individually. Other than being a veteran after the Battle of Geonosis, which left me scarred over so many comrades lost, I have no experience in war whatsoever. My past apprenticeship merely carried me to places where humanitarian efforts were needed.”

She clutched the hilt of her lightsaber, clipped to her sash.

“Although, I daresay my sharpest weapon is not my lightsaber, but my sharp mind.” The Force sent her a wave of calmness, passing the positive whispers of these… men, towards her. Confidently, she continued, “I might be young, but the safety of Coruscant and its people is significant to me, too. It is my greatest honor to be assigned here to serve with you all – men of valor.”

“Certainly not,” Lesiil answers, “It's actually been a blast. I believe I've seen so much action as you have–”

“But less terrifying,” Anakin interrupts, his cybernetic arm coming up to rub his chin. “In a sense of war. Right?”

Lesiil nods in confirmation. “That would be it!”

With a wave of goodbye, Lesiil restarts her trek back to the designated meeting chamber.

“Go ahead. Push the button. You're welcome to do so while it's in your grasp. And within my watch, of course.”

After a mission that involved a wild chase to recapture a loose criminal, Lesiil had proven herself to be useful. Like… flipping and jumping across rooftops in the lower levels, for example, before letting the Guards subduing the poor sod.

Marshal Commander Fox’s apathetic helmeted gaze was hesitant for a second. Then, for unknown reasons, the man unlatched his bucket from his shoulders. Dark curls fall out, sweeping across his forehead and kissing his eyelids. His face was young, but soft stress lines that spoke experience were present too.

Then he lit the saber. Green plasma blade emitted from the hilt, which was wrapped in strips of red leather, thrumming with power in his hand.

“It's heavy,” the Marshal remarked, and Lesiil noticed his voice was lighter and softer than his peers, and not because of being used to hearing it through the helmet's vocoder.

“Not for us Force-users,” she smiles, stepping back to watch him swing the blade experimentally. “The Force grants it lighter for us to wield.”

He lifted a dark eyebrow at her. The scarred one, on the right. “Thus the acrobatics?” he asked, referencing the most recent stunt she'd pulled.

Lesiil chuckled. “It does help us in many things." She watched on fondly. “A lightsaber to a Jedi is their life. As is mine. My lightsaber is my life.”

So… I'm holding her life in my hand?

It was unintentional. The Marshal's wonder was loud. And Lesiil, stronger with the Force, couldn't help but hear it. It was an innocent thought – almost childlike, but it stirred something within her.

Trust.

“Master Yoda,” Lesiil greets as soon as she steps into the chamber, “Master Windu.”

Both masters look up from their served cups of tea. Late afternoon light casts a golden glow through the window and onto the modest pieces of furniture. Mace Windu offers a fond smile, “Good afternoon, Lesiil.” He is, after all, Lesiil's former master.

“In, you come, Master Thrace.” Yoda gestures to a seat to his left hand, just across Windu. “Sit here, you will.”

Lesiil strides in, basking in the safety of the bubble the Force seems to provide and the peace that radiates from both men. “Thank you for inviting me here, Masters.” But she supposes this is better than the headquarters. Even on-call, the men can seem to be… rowdy, at times. Not that she prohibits them to act like it. She encourages them, even. To just be themselves.

“The Temple will always be your home,” Windu says.

The… headquarters. It's also my home.

“Why is the Jedi sworn to celibacy?”

“Not exactly celibacy, Commander Thorn,” Lesiil explained, “Just romantic attachments. We're not allowed to marry. Our core values encouraged us to be selfless individuals. That, and so our focus to maintain balance would not split.”

Downtime among the Guard's command clique was rare. When it struck, they colonized one common room to themselves. Lesiil was invited, oddly. And now everyone was either sprawled on the couch or playing the console in the holoscreen.

“Backtrack, sir,” Commander Stone glanced in disbelief. “You can't marry?”

“Such practice is prohibited, yes,” Lesiil hummed in thought, “Except in special cases. To save their species, for example.”

“Regulations stated us clones aren't allowed formal relationships, too,” Commander Thire joined in.

Looking around the gathered commanders, a fond and empathetic smile tugged on Lesiil's lips. “I suppose we're alike in so many ways, then.”

“You… think so, General?”

She turned from her spot in the battered armchair – her favorite spot – and found the Marshal Commander casually leaned back against the couch's arm, next to Sergeant Hound who occupied one of the consoles. Sans helmet, his raven black locks fell over his forehead. Now laden with streaks of white no thanks to the stress of ever demanding duties, it somehow made him even… easier on the eye.

“Why not? We are all chosen to be here to do what we do.”

The Marshal's warm amber eyes softened at her, as if sympathetically. Or was that just a brief illusion? “We have duty,” said his softer voice – again, less gravelly than his brothers’.

The phrase somehow dampened the smoldering embers inside her. Either for now, or for good, she felt challenged to see where this went in the future.

“That is correct, Marshal.”

“We'd like to talk about reassignments.”

It surprises her enough that her grip on her cup nearly slips. The Force senses her subtle distress, and Lesiil can feel it perching on her shoulders to provide comfort as much as it can.

“Reassignments, Master?”

“The Council deliberates of your potential, your hard skills,” Windu nods mindfully, “It could be beneficial for the men in the front lines.”

Front lines.

The last time she went to the front lines was when she lost her twin brother Railuu in Geonosis.

She isn't sure to go back. It never comes to mind. To hear firing blasters, trudging through various terrains and weather, being stuck in a war room concocting a strategy through and through and at least three backup plans. When the word came she was assigned to the Guards, she'd accepted without a second thought.

Fear drove her here to stay, but familiar comfort welcomes her like home. To be planetside. Home. Coruscant is home, where she can place her feet steadily on.

A moment too long, the Force caresses her cheek to calm her storms.

Lesiil clears her throat. “May I hear further about this proposition?"

Windu carries on, “As you know, each unit of the Army is assigned with elite troopers of the Special Operations Brigade; Republic Commandos, ARC Troopers. Their tasks are significant for pre-campaign efforts, particularly reconnaissance and intelligence gathering.” Briefly, he trades glances with Yoda. “We were thinking… you are suitable for this position.”

Positioned high up in the chain of command leading an entire corps, Lesiil is granted her own modified plastid armor, like the ones Obi-Wan and Anakin adorned. She leaves it unpainted, save for the left shoulder bell where one of the men had meticulously done the Guard's insignia.

Matched with the Marshal Commander.

It's where she belongs now. With the men of the Guard.

So even hearing the offer feels like a betrayal to the men.

“To… lead the elite Brigade?”

“Exactly like you said, it is not,” Master Yoda says, “But transferred where you are needed, you would be.”

“You were an exceptional padawan of mine with a truly brilliant mind,” Windu continues, his generally neutral phrases now sounding so far away, and this time it sounds more like persuasion. Sure, she was his treasured padawan, but still. “It's complex, yet structured at the same time.”

“Sir, I am once again asking you to never cartwheel through buildings again.”

Lesiil threw a smile from her cot in the medwing – her arm was in a sling, one foot lifted with one of its own, and one hell of a headache. And medicines. “Thank you for all the concern, Thorn.”

The amber-haired man scowled. Playfully, Lesiil noted. “That wasn't sarcasm, though, right? That better be a promise.” He clears his throat. “Erhm. Sir.”

“I promise not to cartwheel through buildings again.”

Thorn sighed. “But you still wanna do the other tricks, aren't you.”

“Who else is it gonna be? Your Marshal Commander?”

“I would be doing what, exactly?” the devil strode in. Upon seeing the very person uttered it, he faltered in his steps. Thorn snickered behind his hand, his shoulders vibrating. Fox glared at his brother under the helmet before turning to his General, almost in attention. “Sorry, sir.”

Lesiil frowned at him, storm grey eyes darting past his apathetic visor. “I just think you're not, Marshal,” she settled with a smirk before regarding his sudden presence, “Is there a matter of importance?”

Thorn suddenly felt uncomfortable and donned his helmet. “See ya in a bit, General. Heal fast. With the Force. Or… whatever.”

Lesiil's sweet airy laughter chimed throughout the medwing. The sound drove Thorn's flush on his cheeks three shades deeper, and a fresh lighter shade emerged on Fox's under his helmet.

“Ugh, stang.” Thorn facepalmed (or visorpalmed, whatever). “Sorry, Fox. I'll just… see myself out.”

“In control, you are. And strong with the Force, you are, as well,” Yoda joins in, the raspiness of his aged cadence tinged with wisdom, though masking their, simply, hope for her to accept. “Either in the intelligence division or the elite Brigade, be suitable, your sharp and analytical thinking skills could.”

Lesiil coughed. “Oh, Force…”

Fox hurried to her bedside. “You didn't need to laugh that hard, sir.” He poured a glass of water, placed it down momentarily to help his General propped up against the pillow properly. “You're still healing.”

“Yes,” Lesiil smiled meekly, glancing at him in gratitude as he helped her drink. His gloved fingers were light under her jaw to tip her head slightly backward as he held the glass. “Thank you, Marshal. And forgive me.”

“At both, you don't need to.”

Yes, but still. “Now.” Lesiil settled back into her pillows. “Is there something that needs me?”

Fox stilled for a moment. “Nothing else.” However, the subtlest swivel of his head told Lesiil otherwise. “Just wanted to check on your current wellbeing, General.”

“Forgive me for being too frank, but… Is there an option where I can choose to refuse?”

Both masters tense in their seats and share another inquisitive glance. Lesiil only registers it as utter shock. “What would be the reason?” her former master demands firmly.

“Take off your helmet, Marshal.”

Fox tensed, his heart skipping a beat. He knew what his General was. Part of the genealogy that made her whole was of a Lorrdian blood. And she had been encouraged by the Jedi of the Order to train reading nonverbal cues by the ways of the Lorrdian during her padawanship, deeming it would be useful for herself in the future.

Seemed like it was, just now.

“Yes, sir.”

Firmly, he reached up and took his bucket off. One of his hands instantly flew up to comb his grown curls back in order to at least look presentable.

“Now say that again.”

He blinked. He felt his face shift. He felt how his breathing changed and how the faster rhythm of his heart accommodated his nervousness. All were displayed for his General to study. To observe. To find the meaning of.

His General, whom he fell for, in all the wrong ways. So many wrong ways.

“I just want to see you.”

Lesiil lets out a breath, following the guidance of the Force that's still perching over her shoulders like a homemade knitted scarf to tap into her confidence. “There are so many lives on Coruscant that, if lost to the war, would be forever in our guilt,” she says.

“General.”

Lesiil cracked her eyes open, the warm cocoon of all the life energy around her dissipating at Fox's presence by the table. No, she wasn't falling asleep in the mess hall. Everyone who held her fondness knew she loved to meditate wherever she wanted. Mess hall was her favorite. She simply found joy in tuning the voices out and reuniting with the Force to challenge her own focus.

Her Marshal Commander was ready to escort her out. “Do you have a moment?”

Lesiil studied him.

There was a long silence between the two as they waited for each other.

“Would it be just the two of us, Marshal?”

“Yes,” he answered a little too quickly, “...sir.”

Smiling to mask how her heartbeat was picking up, Lesiil swept her lightsaber hilt off the table surface and patted her reddish brown tunic down. “Lead the way, Marshal,” she said, easily falling into step by his side. When the hallway was nearly empty, she leaned in just an inch and lowered her voice, “And when it's just the two of us, you may call me Lesiil.”

Instead of a pair of warm amber brown eyes, the Marshal’s visors stared back at her, his steps faltering just a little.

“Then it's Fox for you, Lesiil.”

“The Guards have been flourishing under my command. I learned from the men at first, then the men learned from me in return, as I've always given them countless advice and precautions in order to eventually perfect our protocols – all by the insight of a Jedi.”

Yoda hums in acknowledgment, his head nodding once, slow.

“I prefer to continue my duty here,” Lesiil declares firmly, “Stationed in the Coruscant Guard.”

His lips molded against hers like flower petals mashed together. Fox tasted like caf, his only source of spirit during the day, and he tasted pleasant on her tongue. His gloved hands ran up her sides and curled into the back of her reddish brown tunic. Lesiil matched his passionate pace with her own, fingers tangled up in his rich and dark locks. It was surprisingly soft to her palms.

Fox pulled away, breathing into her swollen, parted lips. He had forgotten to switch off the low power of the lighting system in his office, but he could still see the mesmerizing storm brewing inside the greyness of her eyes clearly. There was no conflict he could see – only reciprocated passion.

With a low sound emitting from her throat, Lesiil fell into him once more, eager to feel the moistness of his lips, eager to draw gravelly sounds out of him. Her vambraces clicked against his shoulder bells as her arms wound around his neck, pulling him in for a deeper encounter that involved a daring sleight of tongue.

Fox accepted the challenge.

“Good men, the Guards are,” commends Yoda. Then his eyebrows raise in question. “How fares Marshal Commander Fox, do I wish to know.”

“I'd like to apologize, sir.”

Lesiil stood in the doorway of her barrack quarters, her eyebrows twitched into a frown. And, she could feel her lips tingling all of a sudden, cheeks flushing slightly remembering their last encounter.

Fox's helmeted gaze was firm on her. “It won't happen again.”

Using the Force to sense if there was anybody around was totally wrong, but she did it anyway before pulling the Marshal Commander in.

“I personally think we lack the talk, Fox.”

“Talk, sir?”

“It’s Lesiil,” she insisted, “I… I cannot go back from what we did yesterday. There is only the way forward for me.”

“He is well,” she smiles briefly, touched by the small check-in gesture, “A headstrong, resilient man. Tireless and extremely dedicated to overall security, and the safety of us all.”

Fox pulled away first, his shoulders heaving from running out of breath. “Do we still need that talk?” he asked, his lips still softly gliding across hers.

“There have been these… unspoken things…” She pecked those warm lips once, her breath fanning across his skin sent the hair on the back of his neck bristling. “...that are also unspeakable in the halls of the Jedi Temple.”

“Enlighten me then, Jedi.”

“There can't be romantic attachments. I've said this before.”

“And?” He raised an eyebrow, the glint in his eyes spoke of a challenge. “Isn't it speakable enough as a reminder to be enforced onto you Jedi people?”

“Yes,” Lesiil nearly chuckled, “But that is the problem.”

“And you?”

She blinks. “Pardon, Master?”

Mace Windu briefly raises a single eyebrow. “Do you two work well?”

“We always do, Master Windu,” she replies without missing a beat, reminiscing the times where she and the command clique spent hours upon strategy and cups of caf. “Coordination is of utmost importance in a group, after all. Along with seamless communication.”

“Have you… done this before?”

“...Let's just say it has been a while.”

He smirked, a huff of laughter escaping his lips. “I thought you said no romantic attachments.”

“This could mean so many ways,” Lesiil said, “Romantic is only one of them.”

“Is this… romantic to you?”

She looked into him, grey eyes shining like stars, and she glowed even brighter as her lips pulled into a grin. “I would rather follow your way of thinking. Or let you guess mine.”

“I rely on the men of the Guard, and I trust my life in them. We have a connection to each other in order to maintain a healthy, neutral relationship. In return, they trust their own lives in me.”

Heavy breaths. Low sounds that were high-pitched at the same time. Hands held tight. Lips sealed and molded against one another, bodies and their movements already drowning in the haze of passion that engulfed both of them like a safe blanket.

“To lead such a significant unit, trust is important, as we all know and believe,” Lesiil says affirmingly, drawing a deep breath. “Thus why Marshal Commander Fox and I are such good friends.”

“Am I allowed to do this all night, mesh'la? When we all should've retired to our quarters… but there'll be only you and me. On this bed. Just like this. In this bland as kark bedroom of yours ‘cause you can't have any mortal possession and all that bantha shit.”

“Do not let possessiveness hinder you, Lesiil. Maintaining a good friendship with your men is commendable – encouraged, in fact, to ensure effective outcomes,” Windu warns, his tone low, “But be mindful of your selflessness, too.”

“S’gonna be so wrong of me…” he grunted against her bare skin, his body moving against hers, “to say that I've fallen in love with you, Lesiil.”

Lesiil tilts her chin up. “There is no passion,” she recites, “There is serenity.”

“No, Fox…”

“It surely will not hinder me, Masters.”

“...I love you too.”

Taglist (Form): @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @msmeredithrose @filamentlights @heidnspeak @lucyysthings

A/N: Yes this came up fresh in the same day I posted this. Because y'all love her so much 🥹