#there were many many aus i could have picked but i think this selection was objectively the funniest

[gayestpokemon]

request by @sp1derc1der !!

drag queen maxie is my own au, dancer maxie is @plutonious, and of course the massive dragon is spider's draco scaled au

and this is also one of my aus lmao (probably the dumbest one ive ever come up with) (maxie gets turned into a wingull and no one knows its him LMAOOOOO)

[gravegoer]

i need royal blood part 2 pleasssseee UAGUHDUAHD

Royal Blood — 🜲

i personally love this AU and i hope you guys do too.. for some ODD reason i havent gotten many asks about it but here u guys go summary: sevika helps u get ready for your ball, and a little jealousy

masterlist , part 1

It had been around a week since the night Sevika basically cradled you to sleep. Unfortunately, you didn't see her around much, feeling a bit lonelier without her presence to keep you company.

It's possible she felt guilty for having her hands all over the princess, thinking it's not her place. But in reality, she was just trying her best to resist you. She kept herself busy with mundane and useless tasks, but still hovering close enough to keep an eye on you.

And your plans for her didn't make it much easier for her to hold back.

During the week that your parents were absent on a trip, they had reluctantly allowed you to host a ball. Seeing as this was the perfect way to prove to your parents that you were capable of being responsible you had to insure everything went as planned.

You had your butler customize invitations and send them to a select few noble families. Even though you would have much rather invited your average friends, ruckus had to be avoided, and your friends would most likely cause more trouble than they intend.

Now it was the morning of the big day, despite your mind being set on Sevika the whole morning you had managed to pull yourself out of bed, still in your nightgown, and go downstairs.

As always breakfast was waiting for you on the table, you internally thanked the chef as you dug into your meal, savoring the flavors. The large window in front of you showcased the front of your castle, Sevika stood outside, simply watching passerbyers as if suspecting each and every one.

You laughed to yourself at how seriously she took her job, wondering what was on her mind. You set your plate aside and strode to the double doors to take a breath of fresh air (talk to Sevika).

You emerged, and the cold stone of the stairs nipped at your bare feet. She shot you a questioning look before you spoke, “So.. the ball is today”

“I know, i'll be on guard duty.”

You scoffed at her seriousness, “Really? This is my big day, and you aren't even going to show up. You've been cold this week.”

She sighed and her shoulders seemed to slump a bit, “Apologies, is there anything you want?”

“Yes!” You groaned, “Just— can you at least help me get ready tonight?”

She cocked an eyebrow at your question, “Isn’t that what your personal maid is for?”

“Well– I need help picking something to wear, and my maid is supposed to be bias. She will like anything i do, and you’d tell me the truth right?”

Sevika nodded, giving in a bit.

“Great! I admire your honesty, truely. Join me in my quarters tonight at 6:00.”

Before she could protest you were stepping back inside all giddy. It seemed you would finally get some time to yourself with Sevika. I mean she couldn't deny an order, Right?

..

Right.

Sevika showed up to your door at exactly 6:00 PM, punctual as always. You greeted her with a smile, now changed into a different stay-at-home outfit. You had been lounging around your room for most of the day while waiting for Sevika to arrive.

The balcony door in your room was open, and there were books strewn about your bed. She shook her head at your carelessness and walked over to the balcony, pulling the door shut.

“You know anyone could come in through there right?” She stated sternly.

“To my balcony on the second floor?” You laughed, "Whatever you say, I guess you're the boss around here."

She let out a small laugh that could be mistaken for a scoff and turned to your quite large closet, motioning for you to open it. You pulled the doors open to reveal your plethora of dresses and other garments. Sevika sighed at the fullness as you started to push around the dresses, looking for a color you liked.

After some time, you held up two dresses, and Sevika cringed at them, “That one isn’t fit for a ball, and that one is just—” You groaned, interrupting her.

“You said you were looking for honest, not biased.”

Shaking your head you dove back into the clothes, hands emerging with a beautifully embroidered dress, and another that was similar in style with a low V neckline. Sevika looked contemplative for a moment before motioning to the changing divider, “Try them on for me.”

You crossed your arms, “Well, I cant put them on myself, I need help with the corset.”

You said this like it was common sense, but Sevika looked at you incredulously, not expecting you to ask for something like that from her. She grabbed the corset that was on the ground and the second dress from your hand, “Okay, lets get this over with.”

..

"Fuck, Sevika its too tight," you grunted, hands gripping onto the back of a wooden chair.

Sevika had a knee between your legs, roughly pulling at the strings of a white corset. You were just about to be pulled back by her strength if it wasn't for her leg holding you in place.

"Why the fuck would you put yourself through this," she mumbled through gritted teeth.

You yelped in response, and she finally opted to finish tugging and tied it diligently in the back. Breathing a sigh of relief, you slumped forward on the chair, pushing further into Sevikas leg.

Her hands found your waist before she teasingly asked, "Tight enough?"

You nodded, somewhat annoyed with her sarcastic tone, and grabbed the dress that was on the seat of the chair. Sevika backed up and looked away to try and give you even an ounce of privacy as you tugged it over your head.

The dress hugged your curves in the torso and fell around your legs perfectly, with not too much poof and just enough embroidery. It touched the floor and covered your feet, trailing elegantly with you.

Sevika almost gawked at the sight, most definitely eyeing the V neck of the dress. She was glad she picked it.

"You look ready for a ball," she smirked.

"Aww, that's all you have to say?" You giggled, twirling around.

The small twinkle in your eye made her swoon, and she laid a hand on your waist, "You look beautiful, princess."

You smiled at her action, feeling the gentleness from that night return. It's like you broke down her walls in a second, with nothing but a mere look. You all but pried her hand from your waist, flitting over to your vanity.

Grabbing a clip and a comb, you motioned for Sevika to follow you.

"You know I can't do hair, don't push your luck with me. The corset was as far as I'll go," she crossed her arms as if she were putting a foot down.

"No, silly, let me do yours. If you won't dress up for my ball, this is the least you can do," You giggled, pushing her down into your plush vanity stool.

It creaked under her weight, and she sighed but made no further protests. You could see her eyeing you in the mirror, having little faith in your ability. But you just smiled and got to work.

Taking her small bun out, you brushed the small knots and tangles out of her dark hair. It was soft and shiny between your fingers. You admired the deep smell of her shampoo mixed in with her natural scent.

Then, you pulled it up into the same half updo, but instead of tying it with a rubber, you inserted a silver clip in its place. The clip matched her metal arm perfectly, with just the slightest touch of regalness, to show it was yours.

You held a mirror to the back of her head, showing her your work so that she could view it from the mirror in front of her. "It's pretty right?"

Sevika squinted at it in the mirror, bringing a flesh hand up to touch it gently. "Yeah, too pretty for me."

You scoffed and pushed her head gently, "Nonsense, it's just right. As a matter of fact, keep it."

And this would be your first gift to her. The first among many.

She snorted, "I can't deny a gift from the princess"

Looking at the small clock on your vanity, it read: 7:12.

Fuck.

It started in less than 10 minutes. You hurriedly pulled Sevika out of your stool and checked your makeup and hair in the mirror. She smirked at your worriedness and silently held out an arm for you to take.

You turned around to her, eyeing her arm before gently wrapping your hands around it, looking at her to gauge a reaction. But she walked you to your doors, opening them for you with one hand.

You smiled, realizing her intentions, she was going to walk you out in front of all those people. I mean, it was appropriate, right? It's normal for your personal guard to walk you out, only a safety precaution.

..

Well atleast thats what you told yourself as Sevika walked you down the grand staircase right into the party. People gawked at the sight of their princess, admiring the sight of your beautiful dress, others were staring at something— or rather someone else.

Sevika contrasted your appearance greatly. She stood menacingly at your side, glaring at anyone that shot confused glances. Her rough scarred skin opposed the softness of your exposed flesh. Your delicately jeweled fingers were wrapped around her thick arm as she helped you maneuver down the carpeted stairs.

You let her arm go so that you could start greeting your guests. Your servents had put together a grand ball, tables of food and wine were placed intricately, decorated with jars of flowers and other miscellaneous things.

Women complemented your dress while you shook hands with their husbands, offering some wine or water. You were on your best behavior, making sure your guests would report back to your parents talking about how respectful and polite you were.

A tall woman with dark skin approached you, her white dress with gold accessories glimmered in your eyes. She was positively beautiful.

You introduced yourself, "Hello, im glad you could make it tonight. Your dress is striking."

She smiled kindly at your remark, "It's so nice to finally meet you, princess, let me introduce myself," She took your hand and brought it to her supple lips, "I am Mel Medarda."

Your cheeks flushed, "Well, it's a pleasure."

When you finished the pleasantries, you turned to see Sevika glaring at you and Mel from her position in front of the door, taking over for one of the guards. Excusing yourself from the conversation, you made your way to the other side of the room. After swerving through groups of people, avoiding small talk and sending small waves, you finally got to her.

She watched you the whole way over, but decided to look away the second you approached her. Tapping on her arm you cleared your throat, "Ahem, your princess would like a word with you."

She raised her eyebrow, turning her gaze back to you, "Its not appropriate for the princess to be speaking to a worker during an event."

You laughed off her coldness, "Why are you looking at me so intensely then," You started circling her like a predator to its prey, "You wanted my attention?"

She smirked at your playfulness but shook her head, "Just seeing you interact with others is.. odd."

"Jealous?" You teased, knowing she most likely only thought this because she always saw you cooped up at home.

But to your suprise, her stern demeanor fumbled a bit, brows furrowing and eyes widening.

"No. Get back to your duties, we've been speaking for too long, people are staring."

If she wouldn't admit it, you'd make her.

i do plan on making a part 3 ! but im going to be working on some shorter fics + hcs so i have time to release the beauty and the beast fic :)

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @kylorey25 @archangeldyke-all

comment or ask to be added <33

[whoreforjisung]

Pervy neighbor Jisung one-shot ✨

-Might continue the story in multiple parts if people are interested! I still have many ideas when it comes to pervy jisung

-Content / tags / warnings: smut / non-idol au / perv!jisung pining for new neighbor reader / masturbation (m,f) / ji is a little bit of an asshole / non-consensual pictures / one use of “noona” / drug and alcohol consumption / brief mentions of Felix, Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin

-Names are used as faceclaims only, and do not reflect the actions and personalities of real people

-Word Count: 6.2k

-I am very new to tumblr, and this is my very first time writing anything like this, so it is not proof-read or edited. Constructive criticism welcome!

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

As a full-time freelance artist, you luckily had the liberty to pack up your cherished belongings and move to wherever you desired whenever you liked. That’s how you ended up landing yourself in Seoul at the ripe age of 24. It might sound silly, but you had a lifelong dream of living in a cozy apartment with a decent-sized balcony area. When a listing popped up during an impromptu trip to Korea, in Seoul nonetheless, for a manageable price, you immediately jumped on it. It was game over as soon as you visited and saw the beautiful balcony with a wrought-iron spiral staircase. After reluctantly returning home, it was hard to contain your excitement in the weeks leading up to your move. You were already eagerly selecting furniture to buy, as well as decorations, and brainstorming ideas on how to use the space as soon as you finalized the lease.

As you finally pulled up to the new apartment, you couldn’t contain the wide smile that crept across your face as you shielded your eyes from the sun, admiring your spacious balcony. Just the thought of being able to curl up at dusk with that book you’ve been meaning to read for ages on the hammock chair you purchased for it, had you teeming with excitement. It kept you in a positive spirit as you lugged boxes containing your possessions one by one up the stairs and into your new home. That was, until you accidentally dropped the large framed painting you were attempting to transport, sending it tumbling down the stairs leaving hundreds of glass shards in its wake. The sudden noise startling your cat, Newt, from his peaceful slumber in his carrier. He reacted with a hiss and a few agitated meows.

“Would it kill you to keep it down? Some of us are trying to WORK here! FUCK!” You look up from your kneeled position on the stairs as you’re scrambling to pick up the glass shards, and your eyes meet a young man with a scowl on his face, leaning over the balcony opposite to yours. He has a pair of headphones dangling around his neck and is clutching a can of beer, fingernails adorned with black nail polish. “I’m so sorry! I should’ve been more careful. It won’t happen again!” You replied as you continued picking up the pieces. “Whatever. Can you do something about your hairball? It’s making my damn ears bleed.” He angrily snapped in response, pointing towards Newt’s carrier. You could tolerate the first comment, but who did he think he was to so directly insult your pet like that? “Just because I caused a minor commotion doesn’t give you the right to be so rude to a complete stranger. Since I’m no longer disrupting you, Why don’t you close the window, remove the stick up your ass, and get back to your oh-so-important work while I quietly move the rest of my boxes into my house. Sound good?” He didn’t seem to have a response for you, instead opting to toss back the remainder of his drink, crushing the can and tossing it directly towards your feet before shutting the window. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your dustpan from the box labeled “cleaning supplies” and swept up the rest of your mess (along with “mystery jerk neighbor’s” added trash) before moving the final few boxes, as well as the cat carrier inside.

You were so grateful the place came furnished, as you promptly slumped down on the green velvet couch, allowing yourself to take a quick breather before taking Newt out of the carrier, letting him explore while you unpacked his necessities and began assembling the cat tree. By the time sunset began to roll around, you had made a decent amount of progress unpacking and building a good amount of your living room and kitchen furniture, including your hammock chair for the balcony. After brewing yourself a cup of tea and grabbing the book you intended to read, you finally made your way to your new outdoor relaxation sanctuary.

After situating yourself in the chair, draping a thin blanket over your legs, and taking a sip of warm green tea, you let out a content sigh as you finally opened your novel, ready to immerse yourself into the story for the next hour or so. You made it through exactly 2 1/2 chapters before “mystery jerk neighbor” made his second appearance. This time, followed by a small white puppy and the unmistakable smell of weed. Now, you normally wouldn’t consider yourself to be the petty type, but his disrespect towards you earlier prompted you to throw some back his way in retaliation. When he took a long drag and proceeded to start coughing up a lung, you shouted “Keep it down would ya? Some of us are trying to READ here!” Mirroring his first words to you. “Oh that’s realll original” he replied with a pained rasp between coughs. Rolling your eyes, you redirected your attention back to your book, assuming that would be the end of the distraction.

A small handful of pages later, a loud “YOOOO FELIX” pierces through the silence as he starts a phone call. Placing a bookmark to save your spot, you close the book and set it on your small side table. After a few minutes you return , donning your noise cancelling headphones. You’d be damned if you were going to let him ruin your highly anticipated reading time after a long and exhausting day. A peaceful 10 minutes later, he retreats back into his own apartment- much to your delight. However, your joy is short-lived as he soon returns with an acoustic guitar slung across his torso and takes a seat. Unfortunately, you quickly realize his strumming penetrates through your headphones. So much for noise-cancelling. Completely losing your focus and not wanting to engage with him any further, you decide it’s time to head inside and get yourself ready for bed. After a much-needed shower to rinse off the sweat and dust that had accumulated on your body throughout the day, you continue your nightly routine. Slipping on a pair of panties and one of your many oversized sleep shirts, you head to the kitchen to finish your cup of tea while absentmindedly scrolling on tiktok. After setting your mug in the sink and brushing your teeth in the bathroom, you finally turn into bed and listen to Newt’s content purrs as he cuddles up to you, both of you quickly drifting off to sleep.

You curse yourself for setting your alarm so early as you’re jolted awake by the incessant, absurdly high-pitched beeping at 8:00 AM. You did have a specific reason for wanting to wake up so early though, as you remember your plans and reluctantly drag yourself out of bed. Your first task of the day was grocery shopping, so after brushing your teeth and twisting your hair up into a claw clip, you threw on a pair of sweatpants with a black cropped hoodie and began your walk to the nearest market.

Arriving after about fifteen minutes, you began working through your ingredients list. You stopped at an herb stall with a middle-aged woman behind the booth. One of your many plans for your balcony space was to install a fresh herb garden, so you engaged in small talk with the seller as you selected various herbs to purchase. “Do you sell cat grass?” You asked. Suddenly, a young man with blond hair springs up from under the counter. “You won’t find any here at the market, but I can show you where to get some!” You’re taken aback by the deep voice that comes out of him, as well as his strangely friendly offer. Sensing your apprehension, the woman adds “Oh don’t worry dear, you can trust him! Yongbok here is our designated neighborhood helper.” She smiles at him as she pats his back. “Oh uhh okay. I have a few more things to grab here first, if that’s okay?” You reply, setting your items down for him to ring up. A few minutes later, you finished picking up the rest of the items on your list and returned to the stall to let him know you were ready. “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes Auntie!” He called back to the woman as the two of you walked away.

You found it surprising how talkative he was. He told you his name was Felix, he grew up in Australia, but moved to Korea when he was seventeen, and he loves cooking, baking, and gaming. Even though you just met him, you were happy you shared some of the same interests, and honestly a little part of you hoped this wouldn’t be the last you’d see of him. The short walk led you to a large apartment complex. Felix told you his friend, Minho, is a huge cat-lover who grows his own cat grass, so you figured this is where he lived. It seemed like he spent a lot of time at Minho’s place, as the security guard immediately buzzed you both in as soon as he saw him, greeting him with a wave.

Felix knocked on the door as you arrived at, presumably, his friend’s unit. You could hear multiple voices from outside the door, and began to feel a little bit anxious. The door opened to reveal quite possibly the buffest man you have ever seen in person before. He quickly pulled your new acquaintance into a bear hug, shouting “FELIX IS HEREEE- and who’s this?” He added as he broke away, noticing you. You shyly introduced yourself to him, still standing in the doorway before Felix enters, pulling you both in. Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the amount of people present, you keep your gaze trained on the floor as he ushers you into the kitchen. “Hey Minho! This is the girl I texted you about. You know- the cat grass” He explained as he gestures toward you.

You pry your gaze from the floor to see an -admittedly, beautiful man holding a spatula and wearing an apron that says “world’s best Mom” on it in hot pink lettering. As you struggle to stifle a giggle, he quickly explains that he received it as a gift from his friend Seungmin. Since he can’t leave the kitchen while he’s cooking, he instructs Felix to take you to his study, where he has prepared a small pot for you to take home. As you enter the study, you notice a sleeping figure on the black leather couch in your peripheral vision. It wasn’t until you quietly retrieved the pot, turning to exit the room, that you recognized the person sleeping. He was your mysterious jerk neighbor! You had to admit though, as much as your very limited interactions with him pissed you off, he looked kinda cute peacefully sleeping like that- with his dark, curly hair cascading over the side of his face, cheeks all puffed out and lips formed into a devastating little pout. It was hard to believe this was the same man as the asshole that lived across from you. Once you realized you were staring at him, you shook your thoughts away and silently made your way back into the living room. Thanking Minho and bidding farewell to everyone else, you and Felix began your trek back to the market.

Arriving back home shortly after dropping Felix off and giving him your socials, you got to work putting away your groceries and began to tackle the daunting task of unpacking and organizing your belongings. In order to not burn yourself out, you made sure to take breaks every few hours. During your breaks you would work on artwork, watch an episode of the kdrama you were currently immersed in, play with Newt, crochet, and stretch- even doing a little bit of yoga in the evening.

After you were satisfied with the progress you made for the day, you booted up your computer and logged on to Miroh- a new labyrinth MMORPG you had found yourself getting absolutely sucked into lately. You didn’t find the time to game as often as you would have liked to, but when you did, you preferred to set aside a good four hours or so in order to ensure you’d make a decent amount of progress with every session. After several failed attempts to demolish the octo-cyclops boss of the S-Class dungeon- in order to acquire its exclusive armor set, you were about to call it quits for the night when a random player requested to join your party. You accepted the request from _doolsetnet, sending a gratitude emote as you entered the dungeon for the umpteenth time that night, this time with another player at your assistance.

Your morale was high as you successfully cleared the second stage almost flawlessly, mentally preparing for the third and final stage. It started off well, but as the boss’s rage intensified, so did it’s attack speed. You both took a few good hits, your health bar depleting rapidly. Your helper still had a good three-quarters of their health to spare, and enough mana to cast one spell. The boss only had about a quarter left on its health bar- two more good hits and it would go down. You unmuted your mic to request a heal from your partner, which they promptly offered. With your health bar restored to half-full, and your mana charged for two attacks, you were finally able to hear the sweet, sweet cries of defeat as you slayed the beast. You jumped out of your chair, raising your fists in the air and letting out a loud “FUCK YESSS! TAKE THAT YOU ONE-EYED SLIMY CUNT” as the game rewarded you with the gorgeous mother-of-pearl armor set you’ve been ogling for months- complete with an iridescent helmet showcasing the monster’s eye. You sent user _doolsetnet a thank you message, and attached a gift containing a couple hundred gold along with a few of the rare armor dyes you had extras of. They responded by shooting you a friend request, which you accepted, and a rare weapon skin you also had your eye on. After logging off for the night, you hopped in the shower, brushed your teeth, crawled into bed with Newt in your arms, and fell asleep.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+* 🐿️

The day you moved in was a rough one for Han Jisung. All morning he worked tirelessly, trying to perfect the song he was commissioned to produce for a high-profile client. Each time he finished editing and emailing the file, he was always met with a problem. The beat overpowers the vocals, the guitar is too quiet, the bpm is too fast, too slow- it was impossible to please them with this song, and he was going to absolutely lose it. As a perfectionist, he couldn’t let it go until both him, and the client, were both one-hundred percent satisfied. He was running on about six hours of sleep in the past three days, with a concerning lack of food and over-dependence on coffee, energy drinks, and beer. He could barely rip his focus away from the project long enough to shower and make sure his beloved puppy, Bbama, was still well taken care of.

When the blaring hisses and sharp beeps of the moving trucks breached through the music he was working on, he nearly screamed out the window at them to shut the fuck up, but he still had self control. Honestly, it was his fault for procrastinating even though he knew someone would be moving in across from him today. He tried to drown out the noise for the next hour, and when the trucks pulled out, his focus finally pulled in again. He locked in- diligently toiling away at the project, until two hours later, he had the latest revised version complete. Making sure he took all of his client’s requests into account, he submitted the file and began the waiting game. Anxiously pacing around his apartment and biting his nails for another hour, he received an email notification. He sprinted to his computer, not even bothering to take a seat as his hand hovered over the mouse for a few seconds in anticipation. He slid the cursor over the most recent email in his inbox, squeezing his eyes shut and chanting a quiet “please, please, please..” he clicked the mouse and slowly opened his eyes, scanning the results. “Mr. Han, We always appreciate your hard work, and are nearly content with the song. There are just a few small tweaks we would like to- “MOTHERFUCKER” he threw himself onto his couch and muffled an anguished scream with his pillow. He nearly started bawling due to the overwhelming frustration and crippling exhaustion.

The deadline was tomorrow, and he would have to rework the godforsaken song for the sixteenth and last time. He had to make his next submission perfect- or risk losing one of his most important clients. He peeled himself off the couch, sauntered over to his fridge to grab yet another can of beer, returned to his desk, took a few deep breaths, and got to work. There was one specific part of the song that needed reworked. He began playing the same fifteen seconds repeatedly, closer and closer to losing his sanity as he just could not pick out what was wrong with it. Another ten times- still couldn’t place it. Twenty more times, and then he caught it- at the very end of the segment. His full focus on the next loop, he cranked the volume and listened intently, not even daring to breathe in fear of it disrupting his flow. The last five seconds coming up- this was it.

A loud crash broke his focus, followed by the shrieking howls of an agitated cat. That was his last straw. He slammed his left fist down on his desk, still clutching his beer can in his right hand. Shooting out of his chair he flung open the sliding door and stormed to the edge of his balcony. He started yelling before even thinking, just letting all of his pent-up rage out on whoever his new neighbor was. Once the red-hot fury died down, and he actually saw the unfortunate victim of his outburst, he retreated in embarrassment. She was a girl who looked to be in her early to mid twenties, around the same age as him. Kinda cute too, and he threw his fucking beer can at her! God, what the hell was wrong with him? He wanted to crawl into the fetal position and just disappear forever. Unfortunately for him, though, he still had the grueling obligation of completing his wretched assignment. He stretched, cracked his knuckles, and got to work once more.

A painstaking six hours later, he checked over the email again, to refer to his clients requirements. Making damn sure he remembered EVERYTHING this time, he went through a mental checklist. He listened to the full song one more time, paying close attention to the fifteen second segment he had reworked dozens of times. This time, he had swapped the guitar for a bassy synth to create a break at the end of the pre-chorus, and he honestly felt satisfied with the outcome. He might’ve entered a state of delirium after twenty-four restless, stress filled hours, and slipped into a rather cocky mindset. He was happy with the song at last, and the client would be content with it too. Honestly, they were lucky to have a producer like him working with them. He was a musical genius. After confidently re-submitting the file for the final time, he rolled himself a much-deserved joint. He gave little Bbama all the belly rubs and smooches he had missed the last few days as he made his way to the balcony for a stress-relieving smoke.

Jisung took a few deep drags, feeling increasingly calm with every exhale, until his breath caught in his throat upon noticing you lounging on your balcony straight across from him- seemingly deeply invested in a book. The smoke in his throat burned, launching him into a painful coughing fit. He silently prayed that you wouldn’t notice, and mentally cursed himself when you did- repeating his same harsh words to you earlier, absolutely dripping with sass. He threw back a half-assed reply, wishing he could’ve put more effort into it, and was rewarded with a nonchalant eye-roll. Oh, it was game-over for him now. One thing Jisung could never control himself around, was a person who simultaneously gave off the vibes of a dom, while exuding just the perfect amount of brattiness- just enough for him to want to mercilessly fuck the attitude out of.

He decided right then and there to “test your limits”- so to speak. He dialed up his buddy Felix, making sure to greet him as loudly and obnoxiously as he could possibly muster. Only to be met with disappointment, as you just sighed and closed your book, withdrawing back into your living space. Maybe he jumped the gun- and assumed too much too soon? Oh well, he’d have plenty more chances to get a rise out of you, and began plotting his next move as he continued his conversation with Felix. When you returned wearing headphones, and sat back down to resume your book- completely ignoring him, he immediately felt his dick tightening against his pants, begging to be freed. He didn’t have you all wrong- quite the contrary. He had you just right, and the little bit of tantalizing cleavage your tank top revealed to him was the perfect tease, your breasts slightly squeezing together with every page you turned.

He attempted to mess with you a little more, even bringing out his guitar, in the hopes of disrupting your reading just enough to prompt an annoyed outburst. (And maybe even impressing you a little bit with his skills). When you once again retreated inside, and didn’t return, he figured you just went to bed this time. It was like all of his pent-up frustration throughout the week sent itself straight to his manhood. He was throbbing as he fell back on his couch, palming himself over his jeans. He had to use his imagination, having only his limited view of your cleavage to work with, but that wasn’t a problem for him.

You were straddling his lap on his couch, plush thighs squeezing either side of his as you slowly and tortuously ground yourself against his aching length. In this scenario, you had caught him sneaking a peek at you through the window and stormed over, angrily knocking on his door to confront him. You were yelling at him with your arms crossed, squeezing your tits together and giving him the perfect view. -He finally released himself from his denim prison, wrapping his hand around his thick, hard length, and letting out a sigh- When you noticed where he was staring, and looked down to see the prominent bulge in his pants, you forcefully pushed him down on the couch, climbing on top of him. Yanking the nape of his curly hair, you compelled him to look up at you, chastising him for being a dirty pervert. “You disgusting piece of shit- can’t even be scolded by a woman without getting yourself all hot and bothered.” You spat at him as he let out a whimper. “How pathetic” the way you breathlessly enunciated that word had him fisting his angry cock furiously, thighs twitching and breaths panting as he felt his chest tighten. He was so close already- probably due to his lack of jerking off for the past few days.

When you crept your hand up his chest and around his throat, harshly squeezing your fingers around it, he came. All over his hand, shirt, pants, couch, and even spilling a few drops onto his floor. He can’t even remember the last time he came this hard- it was probably one of the first times he ever masturbated. He didn’t even get to the best part in his scenario, the part where he takes over, flipping you onto your back and burying his face between your legs, eating you out like you’re his last meal while you’re whining and begging him to take you, as you release all over his fingers and face. He felt himself twitch, and looked down in disbelief to be met with yet another raging boner. God, the things you did to him, and you didn’t even know him, or his name. It just made the whole thing that much hotter. He’ll make sure you’ll find out soon, though, so the you in his fantasies can scream it for him.

After cleaning up his mess, and slipping into a clean pair of sweatpants, he made his way over to his fridge, and grabbed himself a cup of water. Chugging it down to soothe his dry throat, he glanced out the window- his eyes falling on you. You were wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, barely covering the curve of your ass, as you leaned over your kitchen counter. Sipping on a mug in one hand and scrolling on your phone in another, you were unknowingly giving him some quality material to work with. He made sure to engrain that image of you in his mind, taking note of every detail of your legs, including your tattoos, for next time.

The next morning, after getting a few hours of sleep and clearing his brain fog, he was mortified to say the least. He made himself out to be a complete asshole to his new (hot) neighbor, and immediately proceeded to ferociously pump himself dry to his imagination of said neighbor. Embarrassed was an understatement. He groaned as he got out of bed, heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he refilled Bbama’s food and water dishes, he decided he should apologize to you for his rude behavior.

A little while later, he found himself standing outside your door, preparing his fist to knock. As he heard your footsteps nearing increasingly closer, he panicked and made a beeline to the end of the hallway, tucking himself around the corner. He caught his breath, noticing you exiting your unit and heading down the stairs. He was startled by his phone buzzing, pulling it out of his pocket to read a text from Minho. “Get your ass over here NOW. I know you haven’t eaten well in days and I’m preparing some bulgogi.” He honestly didn’t even notice just how hungry he was, being too distracted by this work, and- well, you, to care. He pulled himself up and made his way over to Minho’s.

He immediately flopped down on the couch in the study after greeting his friends. They knew him- and his current work dilemma, well enough to understand he didn’t have the energy for socializing until he got a good rest, so that’s exactly what he proceeded to do. Seungmin kicked open the door when their meal was ready, jolting Jisung awake. He drug his feet to the kitchen, joining Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Suengmin at the table and taking his seat. While quite literally stuffing his mouth, he listened to his friends converse and argue, adding in a few comments muffled by the food stored in his cheeks. His interest piqued when Changbin mentioned the girl that came by, turning to Minho and sending him a puzzled look. Since when does Minho invite girls over? His older friend noticed his expression, and responded by explaining that Felix had brought her over because she was on the hunt for cat grass. “I can’t deny though, she was just my type. I’ll have to ask Felix if he got her number.” Hyunjin piped up, wiggling his eyebrows.

Seungmin shot him a side-eye, pinching his arm and causing the other to yelp while chastising him for his fuckboy attitude. Jisung on the other hand, was intrigued- asking Hyunjin to describe her appearance, practically begging, honestly. Who could blame him? He was currently down bad- astronomically, even. After listening to Hyunjin’s description, agreeing that she did, in fact, seem very attractive, he rewarded his friend with a description of the goddess that had just moved in next door to him. Hyunjin was practically drooling as he described her perky tits and thick, tattoo-adorned thighs in great detail, prompting Seungmin to manually shut his jaw. “No more horny talk over the meal I slaved away at all day, to prepare for you ungrateful degenerates!” Minho shouted, bringing the conversation to an abrupt halt. After finishing the perfectly-cooked bulgogi and cleaning up after themselves, Jisung walked home, with Hyunjin in tow, begging him to let him crash at his place. Hyunjin lived only a block away from him, so he knew the only reason was so his friend could get a look at you. Cursing himself for his overly-enthusiastic recounting of your gorgeous body- only having seen the lower half so far, he pushed Hyunjin towards the opposite end of the fork dividing the paths between both of their residences.

When he returned home, he cracked open a can of beer, bringing it to his lips as he looked out his window, once again catching a glimpse of you. He quite literally spit out the liquid he was holding in his mouth, as his gaze was met with your ass pointed directly towards him, your back arched towards the floor, and arms outstretched while you contorted your body into what seemed to be a yoga pose. He silently praised whatever god might exist for you leaving your curtains open, and wearing the shortest compression shorts, as he stared- dumbfounded. He could literally see the outline of your pussy, leaving barely anything to his imagination. He wasn’t proud of it at all, but simply his memory would not suffice. He just had to snap a pic. He laid down on his bed as he pulled down the waistband of his joggers. Staring at his new favorite picture,

He began to slowly stroke himself as his imagination ran wild.

This time, you were doing yoga on your balcony when you caught him staring. You didn’t seem mad, quite the opposite, however, as he watched you sit down and part your legs, not breaking eye contact as you shoved your fingers in your mouth, slowly sucking on them. He watched you leisurely trail your other hand down your chest, squeezing your right breast, and releasing a pretty moan muffled by your fingers as you grazed over your nipple. He wondered how your moans would really sound. Would they be as needy as he’s picturing them right now? He hoped he would get the chance to find out. He imagined you releasing your spit-covered hand from your mouth, placing it on your inner thigh and leaving wet trails as it inched further and further to your puffy cunt, obstructed by your tight compression shorts. Still not breaking eye contact with him, you slid the garment to the side, as well as the tiny red thong you wore underneath in his fantasy. Giving him a mouth-watering view of your dripping heat, you plunged two fingers in, gasping at the feeling of fullness. You closed your eyes as you slowly pumped in and out, letting the quietest whimpers grace his ears. You lifted your head and offered him a sexy smirk, beckoning him to “come here” with your two glistening fingers. He brought his hand to his mouth, spitting into it and resuming its position wrapped around his needy cock. The added lubrication allowed him to increase his pace- still careful not to go too fast and risk missing out on the best parts of his scenario again.

He started to let out a few breathy whines as he imagined himself knocking on your door. You answered quickly, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him in before closing the door, and leading him to your bedroom. He kicked off his shoes somewhere along the way, and you sat on the edge of your bed, instructing him to kneel on the floor between your thighs. He trailed sloppy, open mouthed kisses up your inner thighs as you tangled your hand in his curls. He broke away to remove your shorts and thong, giving him a clear view of your arousal. He caught a whiff of your sweet scent, flattening his tongue and slowly lapping up towards your clit. You responded by pulling on his hair and grinding yourself against his face, causing him to release a deep moan, the vibration had you shuttering against him. He slipped his ring finger in, the cold metal of his ring contrasting with the warmth of your walls caused your eyes to roll back. You let out a loud moan as his middle finger joined the other inside you, relishing in the juxtaposition of slight pain and pleasure, as he stretched you out. You used his fingers to fuck yourself towards him, allowing his undivided attention to focus on sucking and circling your clit. This had you absolutely reeling, crushing his head between your thighs and coming undone, rewarding him with the most filthy, sinful, screams as his face was coated with your sweet nectar. He looked up at you as he sensually plunged his fingers into his mouth, licking up your release, and groaning at the taste. Your eyes glistened as he stood up, looking down at you as you returned his gaze through your lashes. You lowered your focus to the tent in his sweatpants, taking in the perfect outline of his curvature as you parted your legs and begged- no, pleaded with him to fuck you. You promised you’d be good for him, make him feel good, let him use you. The incoherent mumbling faltered as he sandwiched himself between your legs, and pulled his waistband down- his hard, leaking dick slapping against your abdomen. He hoisted your legs over his shoulders, keeping a strong grip on them as he finally plunged himself deep into your soaked cunt. He allowed you to adjust yourself to the stretch, choking out a guttural groan and a “fuck.. noona!” (He has no idea how old you are, he just has a little bit of a fixation on the idea of you being slightly older than him. He’ll unpack that another time.) As he imagined feeling you clench around him- and he felt his cock twitch violently in his hand- he blew his load all over himself, feeling the warm liquid coating his fingers and abs.

Panting heavily, he still couldn’t look away from his phone in his grip, displaying the picture he took of you. He wanted -needed- to know what it was like to see you up close in the same position. After taking a few moments to collect himself, he walked past his window on the way to the fridge. Seeing you sitting in front of your computer, back tensed in what appeared to be frustration, he tried to maneuver his vision around you to get a peek at what you were working on. He figured you were an artist, as you had all kinds of equipment set up around your living room- canvases, easels, and a cart full of what appeared to be paintbrushes and paints. He wanted to see if you were working on a digital art piece, and nearly came in his pants when he finally caught a view of your computer, instantly recognizing the images on your screen. You weren’t working on art, you were playing Miroh- his current favorite MMORPG. He opened his phone camera and zoomed in to try to get a better view of the game. Adrenaline surged in his chest as he saw the familiar Octo-Cyclops he has beaten countless times. In fact, he helped many players through that dungeon in the Miroh discord server he was an active member in. This was his time to shine. He captured a picture of your screen, hoping to make out your username. Sure enough, it was legible.

He practically sprinted to his computer and logged into the game, quickly typing in your tag and requesting to join your party, which you immediately accepted. He got to work preparing his inventory and chuckled to himself when you sent him a cute emote to thank him in advance for helping. At the third stage of the boss fight, he was playing defensively- letting you take the brunt of most of the attacks while he conserved his mana for a healing spell. As he watched your health bar start to deplete, he was preparing to heal you when you unmuted to beg him for help in the sweetest voice. He smirked as he released the spell, effectively restoring your health and mana, allowing you to fire off your last two attacks, defeating the boss. He smiled to himself as he heard your sailor-mouthed victory chant. Browsing his inventory for his rarest extra weapon skin, he attached it to the friend request he sent you before logging off and heading to bed. He was overflowing with pride with himself for being able to send you a nice gesture, even if it was anonymously.

[creamsickle-writes]

Forbidden Fruit: Shanks x F!Reader

Tags: nsfw, Modern!AU, AGE GAPS (at one point he mentions he's old enough to be reader's dad), mentions of creampies/breeding, dirty talk, daddy kink, sex toys, and phone sex

Thank you @aces-sweetheart for making this post which inspired me to write this fic!

Click here for part two!

You were desperate.

After looking for a boyfriend for so long, you were getting frustrated. Boys at your college seemed dull to you, and online dating was a total bust; finding companionship seemed impossible for you.

You wanted something romantic, sure, but right now, you needed something more sexual. You hadn’t been laid in god knows how long, and the sexual energy within you had reached its bursting point.

You thought to yourself as you lay in bed; you could’ve used one of your many toys to get you off, but that was growing old. You wanted someone to be there with you.

You chewed at your lip, trying to decide what to do with your frustrated self.

Until an idea popped into your mind.

Maybe you didn’t have a companion, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t buy some services to replicate the experience.

Immediately you perked up and began searching for online cams and various male voice-over actors you could listen to. 

But after looking at those, you decided that wasn’t quite right either…

That’s when you see a targeted ad about a phone sex hotline. You raised your brows; you had never considered doing something like that before… but the more you thought about it, the more appealing it sounded.

You clicked the number on the search engine page without even thinking it through.

You almost hang up, but you’re greeted by an automated voice.

“Welcome!” It cheerily rings, “You have reached The New World Chat Line! Please select one if you are interested in women, two of you are interested in men.”

You debate hanging up right then, but with shaky fingers, you select ‘two.’

The silence is loud, but eventually, you hear that automated voice again.

“Please select one of our many male operators to chat with!”

The phone begins repeating back various profiles that the men had recorded themselves. There were many different guys, each with their own list of kinks and physical descriptions. You chewed your lip as you listened; some were interesting but not enough to get you to bite the bullet.

That is, until you hear a deep, raspy voice. 

“Hey there,” It starts, “You can call me Akagami. Uh, let’s see, I’ve got red hair, and I’m a little over six foot… I think I’m around six foot six?”

Your eyes bulged; he considered that “a little” over?

“I’m looking for sweet girls that like to play with older men. Real innocent, cute types are perfect for my style of play. I want to guide a girl, teach her everything from how to squirt to how to please me-“

You don’t need to hear anymore. You want this guy now.

Pressing ‘one’ on impulse, the phone begins to ring.

It doesn’t take long before there’s an answer.

“Hey there, sweet thing,” he says it with a familiarity that causes your body to heat up.

“U-Uh, hi-“ you want to smack yourself as your voice comes out way too squeaky and high-pitched.

He laughs on the other end, but you can tell it’s all in good fun, not out of malice.

“And how are you doing today, princess?”

“Uhm,” you pick at the hem of your shirt as you lay on your back, “I’m feeling a bit lonely. I wanted to talk to someone…”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “Is that right? So you decided to talk to me? I’m flattered.”

“Mhm…” you trail off, not sure how to get the ball rolling. 

But fortunately for you, he’s a natural. 

“Honey, you sound a bit young,” he starts, “How old are you?”

“O-Old enough!”

He chuckles, “So you’re a younger girl.”

Your face burns bright red. Were you seriously so obvious that he could read you so easily? 

“Hm, don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me.” He purrs it into the phone, and your body shivers at his tone, “Is this your first time calling for this kind of thing?”

“Um, yeah…”

He chuckles lowly, and your heart skips a beat, “Don’t worry, we can talk about anything you want. It can get sexy, it can get sad, hell, you could just tell me about your day; I’m all ears.”

You smile a bit at his words, your nerves starting to disappear. 

“Well, I called because, like I said, I’m kinda lonely…” you pause as you debate what you want to say, “I’ve been trying to find a boyfriend but no luck…”

You hear him “aww” as he listens, and you talk a bit about your dating struggles, how college has been challenging, and how you’re up to your limit with how sexually frustrated you are. 

“Things can be rough at your age. I remember I had a hard time when I was in college…”

“How old are you?” You chirp up, and he laughs. 

“Curious? I’m 40 now.”

You hummed, “You’re old enough to be my dad.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, “I kind of figured that.”

“It’s kinda…” you swallow, unsure how to finish your sentence without dying of shame. 

“Kinda what?” He pushes, and you can practically hear his smirk, “Go ahead.”

Your core lit up at his words, “Even though you’re almost twice my age- no because you’re almost twice my age… it’s really getting me worked up.”

He growls, “Yeah? You like fantasizing about older guys?”

“I-I do-” you whimper, “My dad has a friend… I’ve always found him attractive…”

“Sounds like you’ve always had a thing for older men.”

“Always.”

He groans at that, “Dirty little girl… don’t you know it’s girls like you that make things so tempting for guys like me? We want to take advantage of cute things like you who have no idea what you’re getting into…”

You bite your lip, “But I want you to take advantage of me.”

“Fuck-” he hisses, “Alright, I don’t know if I can take the idle conversation anymore, princess. You’re making me so hard right now.”

You swallow, working up the courage to make the first move, “Can you tell me how hard you are? Please?”

Your core flutters at the grunt that comes from the other end of the line.

“It’s getting really hard, baby. My pants feel so tight right now just listening to your sweet voice say such dirty things.”

He groans, and your ears perk up at the sound of fabric shuffling in the background. Your heartbeat accelerated at the action.

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve any discomfort that grew between your legs at his words.

And with that, there’s a click from the phone. 

“Hello?”

“To continue, please enter payment information.”

Shit. Your free minutes ran out. 

You scrambled to grab your wallet on the bedside table and fished out your card. Quickly, you punch in your credit card info before the phone rings again. 

A warm chuckle greets you, “Did I lose you?”

“Yeah-“ you sigh, “I needed to enter some card info.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “I see… don’t worry, I kept your seat nice and warm for you~”

“Thank you,” you laugh, “I appreciate it.”

“Yknow,” he starts, “I bet a slutty little thing like you has a bunch of toys to play with. Why don’t you take one from your collection and use it?”

“O-Okay.”

You whine as you remove your hand from your cunt and get out of bed, pulling out a box from underneath it. You pull out your favorite clitoral vibrator and a basic dildo. You describe to Akagami the toys you’ve chosen.

“Good girl,” he purrs, “Try easing that dildo inside first…”

As you lay on your back, you spread your legs, teasing your hole with the silicone tip. You whimper softly before pushing in and gasping at the intrusion. You’re plenty wet, so the toy slides right in, bottoming out to the suction cup base. 

“I-It’s in- “

“Good, good.” He hums. “Turn on the vibrator now. Make sure it’s on the lowest setting, alright?”

You adjust so that you’re holding the phone between your shoulder and cheek, your dominant hand turning on the vibrator and placing it on your clit. Even though it was only on the first setting, the buzzing made you jump. 

“God, I can just imagine your flustered body writhing…” he laughs, “You said you’re in college, right? Don’t you have roommates you’re worried about?”

You bit your lip, “She won’t be back for a while… I think.”

“Oh? You think?” He teases, “Now you’ve got me thinking about if I was in your dorm room with you…”

“W-Wh-” you try to get your words out, “What would you do if you were here?”

“Mm,” he drawls, “first, I’d kiss my precious princess. Swipe my tongue over your lips before playing with your tongue.”

Your face grows hot, and you wonder what his tongue would taste like. Does he drink? Smoke? Your tongue darts over your lips as you ponder.

“And I’d play with your tits… squeeze them and play with your nipples that I bet are so hard right now.”

You use your free hand to pull at your nipples, which are just as stiff as the older man speculated.

“A-And then what?”

“Eager, are you?” He stifles a laugh, “I like that….”

“Just for you, Daddy.”

A silence lingers, and for a while, you’re worried you might’ve made him uncomfortable. 

But then he speaks. 

“You know, a lot of dorms have security. And even if yours doesn’t, other students will likely see us…” You press your lips together, wondering where he’s taking this, “You think they’d think I’m your father when you lead me to your room? That our relationship is innocent?”

Your eyes flutter shut as he continues, “Or do you think they’d know I’m just there to use your younger body? That I’m just a perverted old man fucking a college girl?”

“I-I-“you stutter, tossing your head back, “I don’t know-“

“Turn up your toy, princess. Let Daddy hear your moans.”

You obey his command immediately as if he’s placed a spell on you. Your finger clicks the button on your toy again, making the vibrations grow stronger. 

“Oh, Daddy-” you sharply gasp, “I need your cock- how big is it? Tell me-“

“Around eight inches when I’m this hard, princess.”

Your mouth watered.

“Never had a dick that big in me before…”

He chuckles, “No?”

“It’s probably too big-“

“Daddy will make it fit.”

You moan openly, your cunt squeezing the dildo inside you at his words. Even though he didn’t give you permission, you turned the toy up one more notch. You bit your lip, knowing you’d get in trouble if he found out. Over the sound of your toy, you hear wet noises coming from his end.

“Would you let Daddy fuck you raw, princess?” He grunts, “Would you let him creampie your little pussy?”

“Yes-“you breathlessly gasp, “Y-Yes, I want it-“

“Mm,” he moans, “You answered that quickly. You could get knocked up, you know.”

As you approach the edge, your breathing goes shallow, “Don’t care, just need you to claim me. I need you to own me-!”

“Fuck-“he draws it out, “I’m gonna make it so you only want Daddy’s dick. None of those little boys at school will be able to compete.”

You whimper and arch your back as your toy happily buzzes away, stimulating you in all the right ways. Your clit throbs and pulses as the toy surrounds it, and your insides tighten around the other toy. 

“I’m so close-“

“That’s good; turn up your toy one more notch.”

“I-I can’t-“

He hums, “A toy that only has two settings? That doesn’t sound right… did you turn it up without permission?”

Your voice trembles, and your legs shake, “Yes, Daddy…”

“Naughty thing,” he tsks, “I’ll allow it this time, but only because we’re both so close-“

Your eyes shut tight as the pleasure overwhelms you. As you approach the end, your legs begin to quiver, and your heart rate is off the charts. Your body tense as your feelings become too much to bear. You needed to cum.

“Daddy, I-I need to cum!” You whimper, “Please let me cum!”

“Ngh-“He grunts, “Cum for Daddy. Squirt your cum all over your cute fingers* 

Your vision goes dark as you cum. Your body seizes, and your toes curl as your back arches off the bed. Your chest heaves, and you hear a low growl from the other end of the phone, “That’s it, that’s it, princess. You sound so pretty when you cum for me.”

“Daddy,” you moan helplessly, “Cum for me too.”

Akagami’s breath grows ragged as he gets closer, “Don’t worry, princess, Daddy isn’t far behind-!”

He lets out a low groan when he cums, and you bite your lip, listening to him. After a few moments, everything grows quiet. 

“I’ll call you again Daddy. Let’s play again soon, okay?”

“Of course, baby. I would love to guide you through another orgasm.”

And with that, you hang up the phone.

[newbatmanfan19]

Heyyyy so this is a draft of a draft of a chapter for a fic I’m writing. I did my best to make it work as a one-shot but some context for those who want it: It’s an AU focused on Helena Bertinelli. In this fic, she is the biological child of Bruce and Selina, but was given up for adoption by Selina, Bruce does not know about this kid (in Selina’s defense, she didn’t know where he was at the time.) Helena’s adopted father is not particularly fond of her so he sent her away to Saint Mary’s School for Troubled Girls, which turned out to be doing dealings with the Joker. Joker knows who Helena is (people talk in Gotham) so he kidnapped her and told her who her bio-parents were. She was eventually rescued by Batman and Robin!Jason and returned home… only to be sent to Healing Trails Academy six months later. Soooo Helena burns the place down and takes a little girl named Christina with her… hopefully you see my vision for this.

Christina is basically an OC but technically very loosely based on the Italian reporter featured in the Huntress comics. Helena is also basically an OC in terms of personality but I try to infuse as many canon elements as possible. That being said, I am going for accuracy in my portrayal of the rest of the characters (well, fanon accuracy for some, selective canon accuracy for others) I’d love some feedback/constructive criticism or even just general suggestions if anyones interested! This is my first batfam fic and I have spent almost two years getting to know these characters to prepare to write this but there are so many characters to learn :=[

CW: mentions of child abuse (I think that’s all)

…

Meeting Catwoman

Helena hadn’t meant to go following in her biological mothers footsteps quite so closely, but when the need arose, she wasn’t sure what else to do. If it had just been her, maybe she could get by on petty thievery and her wits, but it wasn’t just her. She had Christina to provide for and try to raise, even if Helena was only three years her senior. At only thirteen, it wasn’t like she could go out and get a job. No one Helena thought was worth working for would give one to her. She wasn’t particularly fond of having to resort to crime, but at least she was working for herself and not some skeezy crime lord.

It started simple, nabbing a wallet off an unsuspecting business man or snatching whatever was sticking out of a senile old lady’s grocery bags. Helena quickly found she had inherited her mothers talent for pick-pocketing, and she couldn’t deny the thrill it gave her to do so, as much as she wanted to hate every second of it.

Then, things escalated. She started breaking into some of the nicer houses in Gotham to grab jewels and trinkets, and from there…

Well, she started stepping on Catwoman’s claws.

It was fully intentional, Helena could admit that to herself. She wanted the Cat’s attention. As long as she kept up the jewel heists, it was only a matter of time before she ran into her mother. Helena just hadn’t anticipated it happening quite so quickly. She only just got her suit together, courtesy of Christina.

The moment she got her hands on the absolutely enormous diamond sitting on a nice, velvety pillow, she felt a presence behind her.

“Now, just what do you plan on doing with that after you steal it?”

Helena froze. Even with her back turned, she knew exactly who was speaking to her. After all the scheming she did just to get her mother in the same room as her, she hadn’t quite planned on what to do when she actually got face-to-face with the woman.

She recovered, grabbing the diamond and slipping it into one of the many hiding places Christina had sewn into Helena’s suit. She was certainly crafty with a sewing machine, that one. Then, Helena turned to face her mother, for the very first time in her whole life.

Catwoman was a sight to behold, Helena decided. She practically oozed confidence and charisma, even just standing there. Hands on her hips, staring expectantly at the young girl in front of her. Helena noted that her suit was remarkably similar to Selina’s, an intentional choice by Christina, no doubt. She was glad they were in the masks, Helena knew from her mild stalking of her parents that she was the spitting image of Selina, one look at her unmasked face and the Cat would know.

“Sell it?” Helena hadn’t intended for her response to come out as a question, but to be fair she never really planned on doing anything with it. She would have probably ended up returning it eventually.

The jewels she stole from houses were a dime a dozen. Expensive, but nothing precious, easily taken by the pawn shop owners who didn’t ask questions. Even if they did, she could come up with a story. But this diamond was sitting in a museum under several layers of (really, easily cracked) security for a reason. It was recognizable, she’d need to do dealings with some shady people in order to get rid of it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that.

“Oh yeah? Who to?” Catwoman’s smirk grew even wider, if that was possible.

“None of your business.”

Catwoman sighed at that. She looked Helena up and down, crossing her arms in front of her as she eyed the girl, and for a moment Helena worried she was going to try to do something like fight her for it. She didn’t.

Instead, she held out her hand, palm facing up. “Come on, hand it over. What else are you going to do with it?”

Helena scoffed, like she actually thought she would give up that easily.

“Finders keepers. I got here first.”

“What are you anyway? Robin’s new arch nemesis or something?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Helena complained rather flatly. “I’m nobody's nothing. I’m just… a stray.”

“I can see that. Kids with parents don’t go running around committing grand larceny.” She sounded smug, so smug. What did she have to be so smug about?

I have parents. One of them is standing right in front of me.

Helena swallowed her protests and leveled a glare at the Cat instead. Catwoman narrowed her eyes at her and if Helena wondered if she was sizing her up before, she was sure of it now.

“You got someplace to go, kid?”

Helena scoffed even louder that time. How ironic. The woman who gave her up for adoption was now trying to take her in off the streets. Not that she could accept the offer, one look at Helena’s unmasked face and Selina would know exactly who she was. Bruce may be oblivious, but she had the advantage of actually knowing Helena existed in the first place. And if she knew who Helena was, well, she already got rid of her once.

“Do I look like I don’t have a place to go?”

“Maybe. You’re resourceful, I’ll give you that. Took down the security system before I even got here.” Catwoman started circling Helena, this time she was examining the suit, as opposed to the girl herself. “That suit is something, but you should really get some kevlar if you want in on the business. I know a guy.” She stopped once she was back in front of Helena. “You’re what? Twelve?”

“I’m almost fifteen!”

Okay, her birthday was 11 months away, so maybe not almost, but still.

Selina was satisfied with that answer, satisfied she got some information out of Helena.

“So is that what I’m supposed to call you? Stray?” For the first time in their conversation, Selina dropped the smirk and seemed genuine, showing some respect for the little thief.

“If you would be so kind.” Helena responded, trying to muster up some of her mothers charisma in her smile.

The sound of glass breaking echoed into the hall they were standing in, followed by the voice of Robin chastising Batman.

Uh-oh.

Helena was not prepared to be seeing both of her parents that night. Nor was she prepared to be captured by one of them.

“Aaand that’s my cue. Sorry, gotta blast. As ‘mistah J’ likes to say, the Bat spoils all the fun!” Helena adopted Harley’s thick Brooklyn accent as she mocked the nickname. “But I’ll get back to you on that armor thing. In exchange–” Helena slipped the diamond out of its pocket and tossed it to Catwoman. “Thanks!”

Really, it was more of a survival tactic than a show of good faith, Batman was far less likely to follow Helena if she didn’t keep the jewel. She grappled up to a nearby vent and made her escape, she’d be back out on the street in less than a minute, and soon after that, she’d be far, far away from the scene. If Catwoman chose to inform Batman of Helena’s presence, she’d be long gone by the time she got done explaining. Though Helena thought she probably wouldn’t, she’d be too busy flirting.

Helena was happy, meeting her mother had gone about as well as she could have hoped for. Maybe Catwoman would be willing to take Stray under her wing, show her the ropes. It was the closest thing to a mother-daughter relationship Helena thought she could hope for. Fantasies of them working together on heists filled her mind as she made her way back to the abandoned theater she lived in with Christina.

Christina had proved herself as a valuable asset in more ways than one. She found the abandoned theater and suggested they live in it back when they first escaped from Healing Trails. Helena thought it was creepy, but seeing as they didn’t have any other prospects, she agreed. Christina loved it, and that’s what mattered. Plus it had the sewing machine she ended up using for Helena’s suit, so it was a win-win. Helena thanked God for the younger girls theater background. That and her unrelenting nosiness that helped greatly in digging up information on Helena’s parents.

When Helena got back to the theater, she found Christina in the green room asleep on the mattress Helena had bought with the spoils from her last break-in. After changing out of the suit and into pajamas, she tried to slip in beside her without waking her, but Christina always woke up. She still had nightmares about the academy almost every night, and she would wake up at the drop of a feather.

“How did it go?” A small, groggy voice asked.

“Good, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Go back to sleep. I’m tired.” Helena yawned as she settled in next to her pseudo-sister.

“Can I see it?” Christina shimmied around so that she was facing Helena, the light coming in from the one tiny window in the room shined on her face, showing her little blue eyes and her freckles.

“I didn’t get the diamond.”

“I thought you said it went good.” Christina pouted slightly and Helena pushed a blonde hair out of her face.

“I met my mom.” She replied simply.

Christina lit up. “Really? Did she like you?”

“I think so, but that’s only because she doesn’t know who I am. Or maybe she just thought it was funny.” That time, it was Helena’s turn to pout.

“I don’t think that’s true, you know. There’s lots of reasons people give babies up for adoption. And if she’s really Catwoman, then maybe she gave you up to keep you safe.”

Helena wanted to believe Christina, she really did. But she was too young, her explanation sounding too… hopeful.

“Stellar job, that did.” She snorted. “If that's true, then all the more reason not to tell her who I am. If she gave me up to keep me safe, then she probably wouldn’t like what I’m doing right now very much.”

“You don’t even want to give her a chance? Maybe she misses you just as much as you miss her. Maybe she already knows who you are and that’s why she liked you!” Christina’s voice was practically pleading by that point. Helena understood, she was probably hoping that they’d both be taken in by Catwoman and be a proper family, complete with an actual parent.

“Maybe.” Helena conceded. “But I want to try to get to know her first. That way, if she doesn’t want me, then at least I got to spend time with her for a little while, yanno?”

“Yeah, I get it. But you really should try. You gotta give people a chance sometimes.” Christina yawned and turned back over onto her stomach. “Goodnight, Lena.”

“Sweet dreams.”

…

I hope you liked it ☺️ — I’ve been storyboarding for almost a year at this point (my timeline is air tight goddammit.) Also I did not come up with stray but I can’t find the OG post I saw about it!! If someone knows who originally came up with that idea please let me know so I can give creds!

[wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart]

Setting loose the bunnies.

My at times overactive mind and crazy muse love to let plot bunnies loose in my brain (often at the most inconvenient times). Many times it's just a single image, an idea or a scene and admittedly, I love it. It gives me the opportunity to play with plot ideas, twists and little stories, occupying my brain with something positive. But I also get frustrated because so many of them never become anything more than that, plot bunnies that I collect but rarely share because I'm possessive about them, even though I know full well that I will most likely never write them. Any way, a dear friend (looking at you @barmadumet) suggested I ‘let them loose’ and see if they can find life on their own, that maybe there were others who could be inspired by them, which I admittedly would love. Developing and playing with plots is truly one of my greatest joys and I wish I could find more people willing to play this game with me. So I'm going to do just that, share some of my plot bunnies by writing a short outline and then setting them loose in the hope that they might run wild and free, and if I'm really lucky inspire others. I would of course love to help develop, or just plot play, and if anyone would like to take up an idea then please let me know so I can cheer you on. Below is a list of some very short plot ideas, and if anyone is interested in knowing more about what they might entail, or just want to tell me about what ideas they give you, if any, drop me a message.

Other more detailed plot bunnies will get their own post, so keep an eye out for #setting loose the bunnies. Have fun, plot freely, wildly and without inhibition.

* To have one last day with you. This one is a bit sad, as it is Obi-Wan dreaming about what he would do if he had just one last day with Anakin. It is inspired by Nik & Jay - En Dag Tilbage * Ghost Ship. In a big galaxy, there must be some abandoned ships, space stations and other deserted places floating around. This one is definitely Halloween themed, and I have both the movie Ghost Ship and the first Alien movie in my mind when I think of this bunny. * Padawan mayham. Time travel is always fun to play with, and there's a particular joy in sending our boys back and forth in time in an attempt to fix something, but this craziness takes it even further. So now imagine that shortly after Obi-Wan takes Anakin as his Padawan, a thirteen year old version of himself shows up but he's not alone, a lanky young version of Qui-Gon is with him, followed by a scowling young Jedi who has an uncanny resemblance to Count Dooku, but most mysterious is the young man who has no idea where he is and looks startlingly similar to Anakin. * Impossible love. AUs are entertaining and fun to play with, but this one is just a tiny idea, partly inspired by LOTR. Elf prince Obi-Wan falls for human warrior Anakin, knowing that their love is impossible. * The boy and the ghosts. This is a sad story with the potential to become a deep, long and convoluted story, but it could possibly also taken another, more humorous direction. Anyway, both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan die on Naboo, and little Ani disappears, taken by Maul and Sidious. However, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's tries to look after him as Force ghosts. * Seeking comfort. My muse came up with this idea of the disaster lineage having a tradition of seeking comfort in each other's beds. They are all part of an unusual lineage and loved each other even after they fall apart, there IS a special bond. It began with Dooku and Qui-Gon (not sure how) and ends (maybe) with Anakin and Ahsoka seeking comfort during the war before everything goes to hell. This one I think has the potential to be sweet fluff, or hot shameless smut possibly heartbreaking hurt/comfort, so take your pick. * The Pact. There's this ancient pact between the Sith and Jedi that dictates that in every generation, or for every hundred years, a couple from each order will be selected and united to keep the peace, working together to maintain the balance. * R2D2 knows all the secrets. This is canon in my opinion, R2 really knows ALL the secrets. This little droid has been there all along so it makes sense. But get this, what if Luke, after inheriting it, discovers that in its memory there are recordings of intimate moments between Anakin, Padmé and Obi-Wan? My naughty muse imagined him getting inspired and sharing some steamy moments himself with a certain princess (unaware that she's his sister) a snarky good-hearted scoundrel. * First kiss. Soul mats are a wonderfully cheesy theme, and can be so sugar sweet, devastating or deliciously complicated. So what if it's not until the first kiss that a soul mate is revealed. Then imagine that a master and padawan only realize they are soul mates the moment the master is mortally wounded... But then it is later revealed that the young boy with incredible potential they found on a desert planet is their third soul mate (because I make the rules and of course you can have more than one soul mate)

[quitealotofsodapop]

Was thinking of FFM, specifically the bit about the island being effectively isolated from the outside world. That means it's entirely possible for different strands of plant life that otherwise went extinct or had evolved different characteristics remain in suspension, only affected by the things Wukong himself brings onto the island.

Pigsy is a food connoisseur. He only uses the freshest ingredients. In Century Egg Au and Slow Boiled, he effectively becomes a parental figure to Wukong. One, who would very much likely make many a trip to FFM to check up on Wukong. Same for TMKATI except Wukong doesn't live in the mountain in that one and therefore there's less reason to visit. Imagine how he'll react when he realizes the mythical island not only has the freshest ingredients but the rarest as well!

Pigsy seeing an isolated island with some very tasty looking rare tree fruits from the view of Sandy's ship, only to learn that it has a impassable magical barrier:

He's ok to let the matter slide... for now. He reasons with himself that whatever is on that island is better off without his mitts on it.

Until he's shaken awake by a very excitable Tang, holding a book on island isolation and evolution, rambling at a mile a minute about how the plant and animal life on the sheltered island has likely evolved completely separate from the outside world, and if this island is part of the fabled lost country of Alolai - then it likely is teeming with wildlife that evolved after the mythical Floods and Burning.

Pigsy, groggy: "Tang... how'd you get in my room???" Tang, highly-caffienated: "I haven't slept in two days!" Sandy, texting: "Is he at your place now?"

Eventually after forcing the scholar to calm down and take a rest before his heart gives out, Pigsy is told something that really tickles his inner connoisseur.

Tang: "Before it was introduced and selectively bred, potatoes could only be encountered in remote areas of the Andes mountains." Pigsy: "And?" Tang: "Imagine if you discovered the next potato." Pigsy: *squeal of intrigue!*

Needless to say, Pigsy has his own Nerd Moment™ the first time he actually touches down on the island and recognises a bunch of rare species.

Pigsy, side-tracked by a tree: "Sweet Chang'e! This is looks like a button mangosteen! I've never heard of them growing this far north! The skin is more red-orange though, maybe it's a branched variety back when the islands were connected to the mainland? Button Mangosteens taste closer to tangerines than their purple cousins, I wonder if that intesifies based on colouration." Sandy, delighted for his friend: "You seem to be having lots of fun!" Pigsy: *nodding happily*

He's equally delighted in the TMKATI au to have "Such a resourceful employee!" when Wukong comes back from his visits to the island bearing gifts. It caught him off guard the first time though.

Wukong: "Hey boss, I got you something." Pigsy, opening a box: "Wu... are these fresh truffles?!" Wukong, wondering if he did something wrong: "Yeah, why? Did I mess up? I overheard you talking about wanting to have enough to experiment with and-" Pigsy: "No no! I'm... I'm so grateful, I don't even know what to say... How did you even afford these?" Wukong, genuine confusion: "Afford? I just gathered a bunch from the lime orchard at home. There's hundreds of these things - I don't like 'em personally cus they taste like dirt to me. I normally just toss them in the hotpot when I run out of the chicken-tasting ones." Pigsy: "Excuse me."

I hc that in the direct aftermath in returning to FFM during the White Bone Spirit chapter of JTTW; Sun Wukong did a lot of gardening and farming in order to ensure that his people would have a sustainable source of food. Probably convinced Zhu Bajie to "show off his super-cool 9-Toothed Rake" to start the farmers off.

He also plants a bunch of super-rare and super-divine plants on the island that he picks up in his travels.

Wukong, chilling on a tree clearly not native to the island: "What? I like using the leaves as nesting material."

And lets not mention the super rare species of animals that managed to survive/escape the Burning.

FFM probably has an undiscovered wild cat or two that Sandy accidentally befriends.

[dangraccoon]

The Fight

Day 7 ~ a little accident ~ "I was just trying to help!" ~ Fox x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2033 Content: Clone Rights are Sentient Rights, hate crime (SERIOUSLY; Recommended 18+), cuts, blood, injury, bacta, patching up injuries, assault, Palpy dies (Fox kills him) AU, Fox is bristly and very bad at feelings

Mando'a Guide: mesh'la - beautiful

It was your fault, of course. You hadn’t been paying attention to where you were walking, your eyes completely focused on your datapad. You were working late and didn’t think anyone would be around, but as you came into contact with something you could’ve mistaken for a solid wall and fell to the ground, you were acutely aware that someone else was here.

“Oh, stars,” you stammered, your face flushing. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was–” 

The sentient wall you’d collided with said your name to stop you, and as your gaze lifted, you saw the gloved hand offered to you and scanned the person offering it.

“C-commander Fox,” you breathed. It had been a while since you’d seen him; your senator had been working around the clock to get ready to present their bill to the senate and since the only other aide had quit about a month ago, you’d been working triple overtime for weeks. “I’m so–”

“It’s alright,” he shrugged. His hand twitched, reminding you to accept his offer. 

He hauled you to your feet, then reached down to pick up the datapad you’d dropped in the collision.

“Probably need this,” he said, holding it toward you as if to hand it off.

“Yes,” you agreed, reaching for the pad only to have it pulled back.

“Nuh-uh,” Fox hummed. “I have a personal rule that if someone’s so busy they can’t bother to watch where they’re going, I get to see why.”

“Fox, wait–”

But it was too late. He was already swiping through the endless list of documents; selections of laws to indicate precedent, sentience research, and plans for backpay, benefits, housing, and infrastructure.

“This is…” he muttered after a long moment, shoving the datapad back into your hands. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Your face flushed again. “What? No, it’s–”

“You can’t seriously think– Chuchi can’t seriously think this will pass.”

You heard the words as they transmitted through his helmet, but you heard the tone more than that. It was one you’d heard from the many clones Senator Chuchi had interviewed. You’d taken notes of those meetings, but the plain words you’d typed couldn’t ever convey that same tone you heard now. Hopelessness.

“Riyo thinks it has a shot,” you told him. “I know it has a shot. And if it fails, we have plans to begin a campaign with the citizens of the Republic and we’ll put it up again.”

Fox was quiet, but you could see the tension in his frame.

“The bill is being presented in a week by Senators Chuchi, Amidala, and Mothma,” you continued. “It has the support of Chancellor Organa and the Jedi Council.”

“It’s performative at best,” Fox finally bit back. “At its worst, it fails again and the crimes that are being committed against me and my brothers get worse and continue to go unprosecuted!” His hands clenched at his sides. “In the extremely unlikely event that it could pass, the majority of the Senate will never agree on the budget, there will be demands for endless sentience testing which will bring even more attention and public persecution down on us. Is that what you want?”

You felt like you were on the verge of tears, your words tearing out of your throat. “No! Stars, no, I would never wish any harm against any of you.” 

“You’ve got files in there with vode numbers,” he said, his voice lethally calm. “You’re interviewing us.”

You searched that unchanging face of his helmet. “Yes. Yes, we’ve been interviewing clones. We want to speak for clones, not just about them. We want to gain their perspective.”

“Is that what our ‘date’ was?” he asked, quieter now, though you could hear the way he spat the word date like it was poison in his mouth. “Just another interview? Some way to trot us out in front of the media? Something the reporters can twist into some sob story?”

Your heart was shattering in your chest. “Fox, how could you think that I–”

“The fuck am I supposed to think?” he seethed. “We go out and I have the best night of my exceedingly short life and then you disappear for months–no messages, I never see you anymore–and then when you do show up again, you run into me like I’m a fucking potted plant, carrying a datapad full of information that could ruin me and my brothers in the eyes of the natborns?” He threw his hands up. “How could I think anything else?”

You could feel the tears streaming down your face in earnest now. “Fox, you asked me out,” you whispered. “I said yes because I like you more than I should. I’ve spent more time in this building in the last few months than I have in my apartment because Senators are trying to help. I am just trying to help because you deserve it. You all deserve far more than the Clone Rights Bill could ever provide, but if it can show you and your brothers even a percentage of the debt and gratitude the galaxy owes you then we will fight for it. Just like you all fought for us.”

Fox went quiet and still, so much so that you thought he’d turned into a statue. You let the silence envelope you, giving him the time and space he needed to process, despite how badly you longed to throw your arms around him and just pull him into the tightest hug he’d allow.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, just loud enough for the mic in his helmet to pick it up. “My concerns about the effects of the bill still stand, but… what I said about you is- it’s unacceptable and I am- I am deeply sorry. It wasn’t fair.”

You swiped at the streaks of tears on your cheeks. “I understand.”

The silence fell between the two of you again, slightly more comfortable than before. But something was nagging at the back of your mind.

“‘The crimes committed against me and my brothers’,” you muttered.

Fox looked toward you. “What?”

“You said ‘against me and my brothers’,” you repeated, your brain slowly putting together the puzzle. You hated the image it was forming. “If you had meant clones in general you would’ve just said ‘my brothers’, you wouldn’t have placed yourself into the sentence.”

Fox stood silently, helmet turning away.

“What happened?” you breathed. He turned further away. You laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Fox, please.”

You could hear the shaky exhale as he lifted his arms to pull his helmet off.

The noise that escaped you was half a gasp and half a sob. Blood-soaked gauze stretched haphazardly across his face from his right temple, down, across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. You could see the bruises that lined the injury, as well as the deep purple bruises around his swollen left eye.

You felt sick. How could someone do this to another person? And to Fox? Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard saved the galaxy from the clutches of Darth Sidious.

You couldn’t help the way you reached for him. The way he stifled a flinch, however, pulled fresh tears from your eyes. 

“Come home with me,” you whispered.

Fox scowled, despite the pain that filled his eyes.

“I have bacta, and I can help dress it a little better,” you explained. “Please.”

He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

“Fine.”

You led him back through the building, sending a quick message to Senator Chuchi to let her know you were going home for the evening. None of the taxis were around, so you led him the short walk to the senate-provided apartment building.

The door to your apartment slid open, and you half-expected to find it full of cobwebs. 

“You can take your armor off if you want,” you told him as he walked in. “But you don’t have to.”

You smiled softly–hoping for it to come across as “encouraging”–as he pulled his helmet off, automatically tucking it under his arm. 

You pulled out one of the chairs at the tiny table in your tiny kitchen, gesturing to it for him to sit while you got your med kit.

Moments later you were trying to remove the gauze delicately when he waved your hands away. “Stop,” he sighed. “Just–”

With a few quick pulls, the tape and gauze were removed. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his unfazed expression.

A small section of the scabbed-over wound began to drip blood. “Didn’t you stop the bleeding before you slapped a bandage on it?” you muttered as you pressed a fresh piece of gauze to it.

“No,” he said simply. You could tell he was fighting the urge to shrug. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“Why not?” you asked as you started to smear bacta across his face. “I know you guys get basic medical training.”

“Didn’t have the time.”

Your brow furrowed. 

“I had to start my shift. Didn’t have time to fuck around with it all.”

“Your shift couldn’t wait?” 

The sentence came out before you could stop it. You already knew the answer; of course it couldn’t. He was expected to be in certain places at certain times, and if he wasn’t? Well, you were sure it wouldn’t be good.  

“I clocked in with the asshole in custody,” he grumbled. “He made me late for the first time in my life.”

After a few more moments, you had the cuts patched up and were digging out some pain meds. 

“Patch, pill, or stim?” You asked. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he tried, though his tone told you it was probably in vain. 

“Fox,” you sighed. “I’m not letting you leave until you have a pain med in your system.”

He glared at you but sighed. “Pill’s fine.”

You smiled and nodded, treading over to the cabinet to pull them out. 

“You know,” you said, picking the right bottle. “I think our conversations would be much smoother if I didn’t have to make you talk–”

As you turned to bring the meds to him, it happened again. 

He wasn’t sitting at the table like you thought he was, but standing right behind you. 

You jumped, flailing into him. 

He caught you against his chest but groaned.

“Fox,” you scolded. “You scared the–”

“I know, I know, mesh’la,” he muttered, words coming out between uncomfortable breaths. “And I’m not complaining about being so close to you, but it’s just–”

You tapped his chest plate. He grunted. 

You were both quiet for a moment as he released you.

“Take off your armor,” you finally said. “Not an option this time.”

He didn’t fight it for once. He took the plastoid pieces off, stacking them neatly next to the table with an ease that can only come from repetition.

He stood before you in his black under armor, hardly meeting your eye.

“Show me?” you whispered.

His eyes shut, his body tense, but then he lifted the top half of the suit revealing golden skin marred by deep, endless bruises. But then you saw it. 

Meat Dro

Carved into his chest. Somehow that fucker had carved the sickening message into his skin. The cuts weren’t deep, but the blood dried around them told you he didn’t have time to patch these up either.

It was unfinished, probably when Fox had gotten the situation under control or someone showed up to help him.

It wasn’t until Fox’s arms wrapped around you that you realized you were crying again.

“It’s alright,” he told you, his voice quiet and softer than you’d ever heard it before. “I- I’m alright.”

Your body was shaking. “None of this is alright,” you told him. 

Fox was quiet, his fingers rubbing small circles between your shoulders. 

Moments later, once you’d finally gathered yourself enough to dress these wounds as well, your hand stopped, inches away from applying the bacta to his chest.

“Take pictures,” he said after a moment.

“Fox, I–”

“Take pictures,” he repeated, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Add them to the fight.”

« Previous Day Next Day »

Thanks for reading! - River

12 Days of Christmas Master List DangRaccoon Master List Tag List Form Read on AO3

Tag List: @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @nomercyforthewarrior @padawancat97 @wishyouthetest @orangez3st @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[anavilante]

December Drabble Marathon 21/31: Choosing Gifts

AU: Modern Established Relationship

Word Count: 2.4К

Summary: John and Gale are picking out gifts for each other.

The shopping mall buzzed with holiday excitement. People were frantically searching for gifts for their loved ones, storefronts shimmered with lights, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of cinnamon, pine, and hot chocolate.

John loved it all: the holidays, the crowds of inspired people, and the chance to watch someone making a last-minute choice between a toy for their child or a long-legged angel figurine to decorate their Christmas tree. Navigating through the crowd was as natural to him as breathing. Tall, energetic, and broad-shouldered, he looked like he was built to confidently sail through this living ocean. Sometimes, he even stood on tiptoes to get a bird’s-eye view of the mall and spot the most vibrant or interesting spots.

Gale, however, calm and introverted, would have preferred to stay home. He imagined himself sitting on the couch, legs crossed, with a laptop on his knees, scrolling through online shops in the quiet of the night, a cup of hot chocolate within reach. Every item could be carefully examined, specifications reviewed, and customer reviews read. Most importantly—no crowds.

But John was John. And now he moved confidently ahead, clearly enjoying the atmosphere, while Gale walked a little behind, carefully weaving between people. He looked elegant as always, but small gestures betrayed his irritation—adjusting his scarf or grimacing slightly at someone’s overly loud laughter nearby.

“Bucky, I still think we could’ve just ordered the gifts online,” Gale muttered, adjusting the cuff of his perfectly tailored coat. “It would’ve been so much easier.”

“Easier—sure, but nowhere near as fun,” John replied, turning back to him with a wide grin. “Holiday shopping is a tradition!”

“But we’re buying gifts for each other. We’re not even shopping together!” Gale pointed out, furrowing his brows.

“Well, as I walk you to the mall entrance, I get to put my hand on your back and show everyone what a catch I’ve got,” John shot back, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Gale rolled his eyes, but John noticed the tips of his ears reddening with embarrassment.

“You’re impossible,” Gale muttered.

“Am I? And yet you’re still following me,” John teased with a smirk.

Gale held back a smile, continuing to walk behind him while mentally running through ideas for a gift. He had a few options in mind, but he wanted it to be perfect. After all, no one deserved the best more than John.

────⋆꙳•❅*•*❆ ₊⋆────

John was focused as he searched for a gift for Gale. He knew full well that Gale had refined taste and understood that anything tied to elegance and beauty would be a perfect fit. Gale might not pay attention to many details, but every choice he made was always impeccable.

Walking past a boutique, John suddenly stopped. His gaze fell on a display of luxury perfumes glistening under soft lighting.

“This is it,” he murmured under his breath, feeling something click inside.

He remembered how, many months ago, they had walked through a store together. Gale had paused at the counter of this very brand, his fingers gently tracing a bottle. His concentrated, slightly dreamy expression said more than words ever could. It was a rich scent with woody and floral notes: bergamot, orange, and patchouli—perfect for Gale. Later, Gale had spoken about the cologne for a long time but never bought it, saying, “There are more important things than perfume.” But for John, nothing was more important than Gale.

Inside the store, a helpful consultant assisted John in quickly selecting that exact bottle. As John left the boutique with a small bag in hand, he already imagined Gale’s smile when he saw it.

But as he walked out of the store, John suddenly froze.

“Something’s missing…” he muttered, glancing thoughtfully at the displays around him.

His eyes landed on a neighboring shop, where silk scarves were laid out with such elegant precision that they seemed to invite him in. Among them was one—a delicate shade of blue—that seemed made to highlight Gale’s eyes.

“Perfect,” John said with a smile, confidently stepping inside. His mind was already picturing the scarf neatly placed in a box and later, perhaps, becoming part of something far more intimate.

────⋆꙳•❅*•*❆ ₊⋆────

Meanwhile, Gale was standing at a ticket counter, intently studying the schedule on the screen. Finally, he found what he was looking for: two tickets to John’s favorite team’s game, with seats right by the field. After making the purchase, he looked at the tickets in his hand, feeling a flicker of doubt. For him, someone who couldn’t understand the joy of watching sports even at home, attending a stadium filled with cheering crowds seemed almost torturous.

“Well, I’ll survive one evening of his endless sports commentary,” Gale muttered under his breath.

He sighed, recalling how at home, sitting next to John on the couch, he often felt like the grumpy wife in a sitcom—the kind who worries about a turkey burning in the oven or paying off the mortgage, while her husband excitedly explains game rules, oblivious to her lack of interest. “At the stadium, it’ll be even worse,” he thought. The crowd, the noise, John’s endless talk about team strategy—it was bound to be ten times more embarrassing amidst dozens and hundreds of men for whom sports were more religion than entertainment.

But despite all that, Gale already knew he was ready to endure it for John.

Tucking the tickets into his pocket, he took a deep breath and headed to another shop. He spent some time there picking out something special and eventually walked out, as satisfied as a cat with cream, carrying an additional gift for John. His determination to give John the perfect surprise only grew stronger, no matter the sacrifices he imagined ahead.

────⋆꙳•❅*•*❆ ₊⋆────

After their shopping spree, they met at the entrance of the mall. John stood there, pleased and slightly disheveled, wearing a victorious expression. In his hands were two cups of hot chocolate, one clearly meant for Gale. Gale, on the other hand, looked tired but more relaxed than one might expect.

“Tired?” John asked, handing him one of the cups. It was obvious he had bought it moments before meeting Gale, as if he’d sensed he’d need it.

“A little,” Gale admitted, accepting the warm cup and letting the pleasant aroma of chocolate wrap around him. He buried his nose in the steam rising from the drink and felt the warmth spread through him, chasing away the remnants of shopping-induced stress. Stealing a glance at John, he gave him a soft, grateful look, one he tried not to make too obvious. John, as always, knew what he needed before he even realized it himself.

“See?” John said with a broad grin. “I told you shopping could be fun!”

“Too much fun…” Gale muttered, hiding behind the cup and taking a small sip.

“Hey, don’t relax too much,” John teased, smirking. “Tomorrow we’re picking out gifts for family and friends.”

“Oh no…” Gale groaned, nearly choking on his hot chocolate. “Can’t we order online?”

“Online?” John exclaimed in mock horror. “Are you kidding? How else would I assess Aunt Peggy’s bust size without hugging a mannequin in the store? Online shopping can’t offer that! So, brace yourself, soldier—tomorrow we’re back in the trenches.”

“You’re impossible,” Gale sighed, shaking his head. But his eyes gleamed with a faint smile, quickly hidden behind his knitted scarf.

They stepped into the cold evening air, filled with the scents of pine and winter. And though neither of them knew exactly what awaited the other under the tree, they were both certain the gifts would be something truly special.

────⋆꙳•❅*•*❆ ₊⋆────

They sat on the floor in front of the shimmering Christmas tree, exchanging intrigued glances. The gifts lay nearby, their wrapping glistening under the festive lights.

John, beaming with excitement, was the first to pick up a neatly wrapped box and extend it to Gale.

“Your turn, handsome,” he said with a smile.

Gale raised an eyebrow, looking at the gift with exaggerated surprise.

“Wow, a real present?” Gale exclaimed, his eyes widening in mock amazement. “Not your… uh, dick with a red bow? I must say, I’m impressed.”

John snorted, barely containing his laughter.

“A dick with a bow is reserved for later tonight…” he quipped, his grin widening.

“Bucky…” Gale’s tone carried a warning edge, his frown exaggerated but unmistakable.

“Alright, alright!” John raised his hands in playful surrender. “No dicks with bows, I swear!” He paused, his eyes gleaming mischievously, and added with deliberate slowness, “It’ll be without a bow... later. Now, just open your present already.”

Gale rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile as he took the box. He carefully unwrapped the gift, taking his time, but the anticipation on his face betrayed his excitement.

John always found it endearing how Gale unwrapped presents. He didn’t tear through the paper in a rush to get to the contents; instead, he meticulously untied the ribbons, loosened the knots, and removed the wrapping with the precision of a surgeon, ensuring not a single piece was damaged. Every time, this brought a warm smile to John’s face—Gale, who had grown up in a modest household, appreciated even the smallest details, finding meaning in them beyond their apparent simplicity.

Gale always found a use for the wrapping paper: one piece would line the bottom of a trinket box where he kept stray buttons and small knick-knacks; another might be turned into a bookmark for his favorite book; the brightest piece of wrapping paper would sometimes be taped to the wall above his desk, creating a small, colorful corner that reminded him of the holidays.

John found this incredibly sweet, especially when he stumbled upon familiar scraps of wrapping paper in unexpected places. For instance, once he discovered a fragment of shiny green paper lining the bottom of a kitchen drawer with utensils. Or a piece with golden stars, neatly trimmed and taped to the lid of a tin box where Gale kept pencils. These scattered pieces of bright paper brought them back to the joyful moments of holidays past. It was as if Gale knew how to preserve fragments of warmth and magic, even in the most mundane things.

Over time, John had started unwrapping his own gifts more carefully, inspired by Gale’s attention to detail. Now, he too tried not to rip the paper, setting it aside neatly and reminding himself that even in the simplest things, there could be hidden value.

When Gale finally opened the box, his gaze immediately fell on the familiar bottle inside. He froze, his fingers gently brushing the cap.

“You remembered…” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the cologne he had once dreamed of but never dared to buy.

“Of course I remembered,” John said with a soft smile, proud of his choice. “It suits you perfectly.”

Gale opened his mouth to thank him, but John suddenly hesitated, as though he had something more to say but wasn’t sure how to phrase it.

“Just…” John began, lowering his gaze.

“What?” Gale asked curiously.

John sighed.

“Don’t wear it to bed.”

“Why not?” Gale blinked, his voice tinged with mild surprise.

John lifted his head, his expression slightly shy but utterly sincere.

“Because I love your scent just the way it is. No additives.”

Gale gave a bashful smile before reaching into the box and pulling out the light blue silk scarf. He ran his fingers over the fabric, its softness making his smile widen.

“Bucky… It’s gorgeous,” he said, wrapping it around his neck.

“It perfectly brings out your eyes,” John added, pleased with his choice.

“You’re spoiling me.”

“You deserve it.”

Now it was Gale’s turn. He pulled a large box wrapped in several layers of bright paper and placed it in front of John.

“Your turn. But be careful—it’s fragile,” he warned, a mischievous glint in his eye.

John eagerly began unwrapping the box. He removed the top layer, expecting to find something grand inside, but instead uncovered a smaller box within.

“What the…” he raised an eyebrow, glancing at Gale.

“Keep going,” Gale said, smiling, trying to hold back laughter.

John opened the smaller box and pulled out a porcelain figurine of a white unicorn with golden hooves and a shimmering golden horn. The figurine was delicate, with large, endearing eyes, and so adorably kitschy that John couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well? What do you think?” Gale asked, barely suppressing his amusement.

“I still think the unicorn’s horn shouldn’t be on its head,” John smirked, turning the figurine in his hands.

Gale snorted and swatted John on the shoulder.

“Pervert! This, for your information, is so you don’t lose your engagement ring!” he said with mock indignation. “Now you can hang it on the horn instead of tossing it somewhere and then turning the house upside down in a panic to find it.”

“You’re thoughtful,” John grinned, examining the figurine. “Fine, I promise I’ll hang the ring on the horn. Just don’t let me forget where I put the figurine.”

Gale sighed but couldn’t hide his smile.

“And that’s not all,” he added. “Look further.”

John paused, his hands rummaging through the seemingly empty box. His brow furrowed slightly as the thought crossed his mind—could this be payback for that time he tied a red bow around his dick as a "gift" for Gale? But then his fingers brushed against something thin and flat.

He pulled out a small envelope carefully tucked into the center of the box. Opening it, John found two tickets inside. His eyes widened as he stared at them, almost in disbelief. Slowly, he raised his gaze to Gale, who sat across from him with a soft smile and a trace of nervousness in his expression.

“Are you serious?” John finally breathed, his voice tinged with excitement. “You’re coming with me?”

“Yes,” Gale confirmed with a small shrug. “I’ll endure all those strikes, home runs, batters, fastballs, and innings for one evening.”

John set the tickets aside, and without saying a word, pulled Gale into a tight hug. He knew how much it must have taken for Gale to decide on this, and he understood that this wasn’t just a gesture. It was about love, acceptance, and a willingness to do the impossible for each other.

“Thank you,” was all John managed to say as he held Gale even closer.

Gale smiled, feeling perfectly happy in John’s arms.

[heavenfell-au]

✦ Memory Lane contest results ✦

First off, I want to thank the people that partook in the contest ! I can hardly imagine having to pick only one scene from my own story, so kudos to each one of you for managing to do it !

Now, without further ado, here's the first submission that was submitted on Discord, realized by Arplenoon !

« TW: Blood, injury, disturbing imagery

I got into Undertale and read Heavenfell back around 2020 and early 2021. There were a lot of things that happened to me in that time that deeply hurt me, separate from the anxiety of the pandemic, but probably had been brought on by it's pressures. Needless to say, I was having it rough. Abandoned, stalked and harassed by my former friends, I let my mind escape into Undertale AUs. Undertale AUs let me forget about myself. Going to work was hard. I'd sit in the breakroom, curled up, trying not to let my thoughts consume me- and often failing. It was during that time, huddled in one of the bigger chairs at work, I read Heavenfell every day for a week.

It was cathartic for me, and helped me process a lot of what I was going through. Even though I wasn't anywhere close to the same situation Frisk found themself in, the scenes where they spiraled in thoughts about their life on the surface resonated with me- Because that was me, tormented by the same demons. Someone knew what I was going through, and I wasn't alone.

I can confidently say that because of that I'm still here today.

Thank you. »

I can already tell you that this hits hard. You've selected a scene from Their Wings that hits very close to home, and I absolutely adore the way you've depicted Frisk's torments, which each bone digging into them carved with words that the ghosts of their past said, cutting them through and through. I love the fact that those bones, along with the vivid red of their clothes, blood and their soul tearing apart pop out against the darkness that surrounds them, all that that giant skeletal hands are craddling them in their palms, giving the sensation that they're at the mercy of death itself as they scream in absolute despair, or in that case, Sans if not both of the skeleton brothers. I really appreciate that we can also see the remnants of Flowey, illustrated here, reminding us the impact of his loss in the story, that he was Frisk's guardian but also their best friend, leaving them stranded in their time of need. There are so many little details here and there that tell about that specific part of Frisk's story, making such an impactful delivery of the message, alongside with the silhouettes that haunt them in their turmoil, ever so faded and yet, very present.

For the technique, it's an amazing artpiece made with watercolors. It's such a difficult media for me to handle, and it's always so mesmerizing to see you realize one of them, and this time, having to handle with so many shades of black. I wish I had an ounce of patience and technique that you have when handling that medium, making me all the more admirative of your craft. The execution is great, for the colors are vibrant against the deep shades of black, and I'm always admirative of people that are able to use that paint type without their paper curling, which requires some type of preparation and knowledge ! The result of this gorgeous illustration, with that particular attention to the red and white colors clashing with the deep black makes it absolutely chilling and nerve-wracking, even more so with how well you illustrated Frisk's agony. You could almost hear their screams. Gorgeous, I'm devouring this work of art. It is delicious.

Next submission is from Cao-the-Dreamer on Tumblr !

« « More like “Adorable Dog” for me ! » you said.

My entry for #HeavenfellContest2024 by @heavenfell-au ! I choose the scene in chapter 15 (Sweet Brothers), where Frisk meets A.D. :3 Whenever I think of Their Wings, it is the first scene that comes to my mind. Is it because I love animals? Because it was a moment of fluff and peace amidst Frisk's painful journey? I think it's both. And yes, the dog is adorable <3

I've been working with shadow puppets for a while now, and I decided to try my hand with Eowyn's characters. I really liked the result! (I've been inspired by Michel Ocelot's works) :3

Here is le théâtre d'ombre in broad daylight: »

You know what ? Seeing your submission made me smile so much ! A.D is such a good pupper and I'm so glad it got to get the spotlight ! (badumtss)

It is such a lovely take on their proper encounter, and the way you portrayed it is so simple, yet so effective and I absolutely love it, for it provides that vision of their bonding experience, as A.D remembered what Frisk did to save its life, and was willing to give them a chance in return. And the way they're staring deep into each other's gaze is so precious and tender, you know what the energy it gives me ? How to train your Dragon vibes, with Hiccup and Toothless having that very unique and special bond. That's what it makes me think of, and the fact that you picked that very tiny scene, for the reasons you mentioned, I'm fucking tearing up at this. I just adore your portrayal of their friendship, and how you selected a simple moment of peace and love in that dark and painful story of Their Wings.

You know what else amazed me ? The medium you used for your submission ! I love how you took the risk to use another type of media, to experience with shadow puppets. Looking back at Michel Ocelot's work, I can definitely see the inspiration, and it's such a nice way to make a tribute to another amazing artist ! I have never experimented with shadow puppets myself, to be honest, I've never thought of it being an option, and that submission was a very pleasant surprise ! I'm very happy you got to choose that medium, despite your drawing talents, I absolutely love people trying out things and taking the risk in a contest itself even  ! As I stated above, it is even moreso unique, and the execution is fantastic. The simplicity makes it all the more enjoyable, for such a simple scene, putting all the energy into the characters and the formation of their friendship, all put together thanks to the light source that gives into that intimate atmosphere. Plus, I can tell that while it is a simple looking result, it must have taken a lot of time having to carve and assemble all the pieces together, without counting the measuring, the placements and the light play. Un grand bravo for this artwork, it definitely lingered on my mind for the rest of the day when I've laid my eyes on it.

Last submission by victenSam !

« The illustration in Chapter 5 – Sweet Trap was one the first scenes that stuck with me, I enjoy the happy vibes. I brought it to life with minor dramatic liberties taken to spice up this short cutscene while still maintaining the overall feel. A paragraph done old-school video-game style, all recorded within a game engine. A happy moment that preludes the turning point of the story.

Reading through Heavenfell felt really inspiring to me. They really put it all in not just the writing, but in all the illustrations, character designs and singing. Not to mention how they’re rocking it in 3D modelling outside Heavenfell as well! This sincere multimedia externalization brought into the fan-work amazed me and helped me give myself a bit of a push to keep pursuing and learning things to hone my own craft. Unfortunately, due to the nature of both game development and making, it became quite a solitary effort on my part. And so, as both a way to honor their work and apply what I’ve been learning, I decided to make a game related entry within the schedule and theme of this contest. I honestly didn’t think I could pull something like this off; I’m glad I tried and I’m happy with the results.

There’s modelling, texturing, sound design, music, coding and directing all creatively put together only by myself just for this piece of animation. I leaned a lot of new things and tested whole new methods and theories in the making of the cutscene. I could go into a lot of details on how every element came together, but I’ll leave that open for any questions that come my way to avoid huge tangents. I hope you all enjoy this little piece of memory. »

Wow.

Just... Wow.

For sure, that one got me gobsmacked. And if the previous submission hadn't gotten me smiling like an idiot, I found myself in absolute awe and I hardly repressed the giggle at the end ! I was breathtaken by the pressing atmosphere until the very moment that those two friends finally let go of the fear and laughed it out, finding myself to do the same, letting go of a breath that I hadn't realized I had stuck in my throat. The fact that you've taken so much time to not just illustrate, but make an entire animation had me floored !! It definitely reminded me of that one illustration that I made myself about that specific scene where Flowey and Frisk were laughing in relief, laying in the snow. That was such a nice little reference, and that made me smile even more! That was a very interesting scene that you picked, all the more heartbreaking knowing what comes afterwards, and that makes me cherish that moment all the more. There was so much nostalgy that I felt there, even felt myself mourning all over again, that was a very strange experience, but I welcome it. Thank you so much for showing Flowey the love he deserved <3

Oh god, there's so much to tell. It is truly a work of art. There's so many mediums put into play there, as you said, there was modeling, there was texturing, sound design and music, and even coding. I also can imagine the storyboard to create the scenes, and all of those details that we happen to forget at times, just so you can render a cutscene of my written story. Truly, I was not only floored by the story telling through your eyes, but by the amount of work you put into this ! It was an amazing surprise to see that kind of work appear for this contest, you're a very talented content creator and this animation is proof of it, knowing that it was made in a game mechanic mind. I lack the words to say how good the technique is for it exceeds anything that I ever imagined. Watching it over and over again, I keep hoping that someday, you get to make an entire game, or even to be hired because there's an incredible potential in you ! It's inspiring seeing how much of your blood and sweat were put into this in record time, I could never hope to do anything like that myself, making me all the more admirative. My best kudos to you, Sam, and thank you for honouring my work this way. <3

That's all for the submissions for Memory Lane. I'm extremely glad that you three had participated, though it feels unfair now to judge your creations when there were only so many participants, which made it harder for me to make decisions, as curious as it is. I've been wondering whether I just let go of the Prize system to give you all the same one, but it kind of goes against a contest, doesn't it ? So I'll still announce the results. Know that each one of your creations made me feel a certain type of way, and I cherished every single one of them. For different reasons, you all deserved the first place, but rules being the rules, I had to be realistic, which is why the importance of technique was there.

So comes to third place, Arplenoon, with his heart-wrenching painting !

To the second place comes Cao the Dreamer, with a very moving shadow puppet !

And the first place goes to victenSAM with his breathtaking cutscene !!

Since I wanted to thank you personally for giving my contest a chance, you all will have an extra in your prizes, as a way to find a middle ground with my prior tug of war <3 Thank you so much for the amount of love you gave to this project. I'll come in contact with you so we can discuss the prize shipping and all the like !

I'll also be reblogging the artpieces posted on tumblr for everyone to enjoy !

[lungache]

I can't reply to your post but hello if you want to talk about it i would love to hear EVERYTHING about your thoughts on x men mutants dmbj 👀

I'M MAKING THIS A POST BECAUSE I WANT TO SCREAM ABOUT IT TO AS MANY PEOPLE AS WILL LISTEN. Thank you for giving me this opportunity to yell into the void.

So this isn't an X-Mn AU as much as it is a mutant AU because I think mutants fit really well into the DMBJ universe! Many mutants live and work on the outskirts of society, and the tombs welcome those kinds of outcasts. I also think it would be cool to see teams of graverobbers that have a lot of morlock-types, too. Because this is a place where their powers are useful and can potentially make them money in a world that is otherwise inhospitable. I feel like DMBJ has always written graverobbing as a society outside of society.

I have SO many mutant AUS. So. Many. I have a whole different Pangxie one, but this is the big one that I have that I might actually write.

First and foremost, the M9 are families with generations of mutants who got rich graverobbing who have mutations that are just inherently useful in the tombs AND that allow them to pass as non-mutant. I've been cooking up power groups for the different families but would love input!

Wu Xie: Kate Pryde/Shadowcat

> The ability to phase through objects, walls, and people/intangibility. Disrupts electrical fields. Slight levitation.

I imagine the Wu's having powers along this vein: intangibility, like Wu Xie, some have teleportation (I have another AU where he has Kurt's powers lol), and the like. Obviously, these kinds of powers are just OP in tombs. Being able to phase yourself through walls and potentially through any dangerous traps is a god send, you can understand how with powers like that the Wu's became so wealthy. You can get in and out of there in no time. But have no fear! Wu Xie figures out how to make such a powerful tool into a weapon to use against himself and others completely on accident. You can have intangibility but that doesn't cancel out being clumsy and having rotten luck. I think it could also be interesting for him to still be working out how to use his powers in this context for the first few years and then we see him being an old hat at it in his later years.

(Now, these were NOT selected because of any connection between the characters. It's truly a "I wonder how these characters would utilize these powers" kind of deal, not because I think the characters are alike. HOWEVER, I do think the comparison between the two characters is kind of interesting just because there is the stark development from the naive, bright eyed younger versions of those characters who develop into darker, more jaded people. People who have killed. People who will kill again. And all that.)

Pangzi: Colossus

> Body turns to "organic steel" giving him super strength, endurance, and speed. I've been debating making it so instead of being able to turn his body to metal he is simply metal all the time, unlike Piotr. I haven't decided, though.

Stay with me, here: statuesque, shiny, super strong Pangzi. See, you like it, too! You see the vision! Pangzi already has canonical near-super strength, I see no reason not to make it official. IIRC, Colossus is also, like, Heavier. 500 pounds heavy. So it would make those "you're too heavy" comments they always give Pangzi hold a little more weight (ha). It's a power that would come in handy as a tank in a tomb but also come with its own set of complications, too, that I think would be fun to explore. For example, in TLT2, they do a lot of swimming- in his metal form, Colossus can't swim, he sinks.

(I know it LOOKS like I picked Colossus for Pangzi because I picked Kitty for Wu Xie. I promise I didn't. If for no other reason Pangxie actually STAY married.)

Xiaoge: Wolvrine.

> Do I need to explain this one? Immortality, super healing, adamantium skeleton (given to him by the Zhangs), cool knife hands. 

I may have a love/hate relationship with Logan but my love for Xiaoge is pure and never ending. Alas, they do have the shared life experience of being old as balls and having the memories of swiss cheese.

There's something about Xiaoge having this power set and going through incredible trials to become the man he is today that just make Sense for Zhang Qiling to me. He was chosen because of who he is, WHAT he is. He's been boiled down to what he can do and used as a weapon, a tool in a lot of ways. He also has such a complicated relationship with death and dying, something that adds flavor to his title to me? (Has Logan ever met death? I know Wade has a whole relationship with her, and he got his powers from Logan's DNA. Xiaoge having met death would be FASCINATING.)

And? Honestly? I just think Xiaoge should have blades in his knuckles, that just sounds dope as hell and he deserves them.

I know them having these powers takes away some of the DANGER involved in the series. They are way, way less likely to die- which, to me, just means the tombs should try harder.

Also debating between making Hei Xiazi Mystique (the POTENTIAL of him being a shapeshifter is OFF THE CHARTS, plus she is already immortal) or Destiny (precognition, blind character who is able to "see" because she is able to see the future a few seconds ahead). Both are juicy.

I would love to talk to people about this, about other versions of this AU, about places you agree/disagree, anything and everything. DM me? We can chat here or on discord!

[br0-k3n-sch00lb01]

Hello sunflower omori fanfic enjoyers of tumblr!! (Or people that enjoy my writing/aus or whatever the hell 157 people are following me for)

I HAVE A PROJECT I’M WORKING ON!!

I’m writing a full-length fanfic with multiple chapters called

DEWDROPS

and it’s a sunflower fanfic where Basil is kinda more outgoing or whatever. Kinda a badass guy. Aubrey doesn’t bully him for long. In this au sunny comes out one or two years later than canon. Yada yada. Anyways here’s chapter one for you guys!!! Btw theres implied self harm but thats really it.

CHAPTER ONE: RAIN

Basil sat in the suffocating darkness of his bedroom. He was thinking. Thinking about so many things. His head pounded as he stared at his blue LED lights. They burned into his brain, though they were far less painful than the excruciating mental pain he had been experiencing for 4 years. It was 1:00 AM. He saw the red numbers on his analog clock. He sighed. It was time to go, then. He got up off his bed, tossing on a sweatshirt and grabbing his black duffel bag. He slid open his window and climbed onto the roof, sliding down it. He dropped his bag into the grass below and then dropped down himself, the wetness from the heavy rain soaking his bloody legs. He stood up and ran. He ran until he could not breathe. He knew where he was. He always came here. He was at the skatepark. He set down his duffel bag and unzipped it, rummaging through the numerous colors of spray paint he had, before finally selecting a blue, and a grass-green. He began to draw Hatsune Miku. He put on some vocaloid music on full blast in his earbuds. The current song was BAD-END-NIGHT by the Kagamine Twins, who he especially favored. He missed his friends. He continued spraying, covering a part of the ramp with paint. It was starting to rain again so he gave up, put his spray paint away, and pulled out his roller skates and helmet. He laced them up and skated around for a bit, before he heard footsteps in the rain. He stopped dead. He heard a skateboard’s wheels roll on the slick pavement. He caught a glimpse of soaking wet pink hair. He could not stop himself from speaking.

“Aubrey?” He exclaimed. 

She stopped her skateboard and turned. 

“Oh… uh… hey, Basil…” Aubrey stuttered. She stared down at her feet. Water was beginning to pool on the ground. They stood there, staring awkwardly at each other in the pouring rain. Aubrey sighed.

“I’m gonna go home-” She paused, staring at Basil’s legs.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

Basil did not answer. He knew Aubrey did not care and she was merely asking because it might make her feel better to know someone else was suffering worse than she was. He picked up his duffel bag and skated home.

[grey-gazania]

Throwback Thursday Sunday

@swanhild tagged me to share a fic that's more than a year old, so I'm picking one of my Girl-galad WIPs, which I started writing in 2019 and started posting in 2022.

The Kids Are All Right (Rated G, 6/? chapters posted)

As the survivors from Nargothrond come to Balar and the Fell Winter sets in, the girl who will become Gil-galad struggles alongside her friends to find a ray of hope in a darkness that seems unending.

I will fully admit that this story is self-indulgent, because the entire Woman King AU is self-indulgent. I didn't expect it to have many (if any) readers, and so far I've been right, but I'm enjoying writing it and that's what counts! It's allowed me to explore a lot of my ideas and headcanons, such as:

Life on Balar, which at this point in time contains refugees from three longstanding communities (the Falathrim, the Northern Sindar, and the Noldor of Hithlum), with the survivors of the destruction of Nargothrond newly arrived at the beginning of the story. Thinking about how these disparate ethnic groups would interact has been fun.

Following on that, I'm also exploring what it would be like for Gil-galad to grow up between these communities. Her father is the crown prince and later the High King of the Noldor, and her mother is from a high-status family of the Mithrim Sindar, but Ereiniel has in fact spent most of her life among the Falathrim. This frequently leaves her feeling like she's too Noldorin for the Sindar and too Sindarin for the Noldor, but in this story she's coming to realize that her understanding of and affection for all three groups could actually become one of her strengths.

The arc of Ereiniel's relationship with Círdan. The major question I always ask myself when I write a genderswap AU in any fandom is, How would so-and-so being female change things? Círdan's relationship with young Gil-galad is one of those changes. Ereinion, as crown prince and Fingon's heir, would have been much more involved with Círdan as a child. But Ereiniel, being female and not in the line of succession, isn't perceived as needing the same degree of fostering that her male counterpart would. She respects Círdan and knows she can rely on him, but her care was left largely to her mother when she was growing up, and her education was left to a tutor Fingon had selected before his death. She wasn't fostered in the traditional sense because no one ever expected that she would end up ruling her people.

Young people coming of age in the decline following the Nírnaeth Arnoediad. Most of the young adults in this story were born sometime within fifty years before the Dagor Bragollach, when the Siege of Angband was still in place and things were looking more hopeful. Their families were intact and they grew up being told that Morgoth would be defeated. But that's not how things are anymore. What is it like to be the Elf equivalent of an 18-30 year old in a world that's now suffering one catastrophic defeat after another, where your parents and their parents and all the other older adults in your lives have, through no fault of their own, neither a plan nor the ability to stand against the monster Vala who's doing his damnedest to destroy the world and all its people? How do you plan for life in a future that you know there's a good chance you may not have? How do you grow up with the possible deaths of you and everyone you love hanging over your head like a sword?

Elvish local government. Yes, Círdan is in charge on Balar, but he can't possibly being seeing to every little thing. Someone has to make sure the roads are in good repair, and the snow is getting shoveled, and the cesspits are being emptied and composted. Somebody has to adjudicate the smaller disputes and hear the local concerns. So I've invented local neighborhood councils for this purpose.

Erestor. My Erestor is not nobility, nor is he half-Elven, nor is he a Fëanorian. He's a regular-degular Falathron Sinda, but he's intensely curious, a voracious learner, and hungry for knowledge. It's his mind that makes him notable, not his family background.

Celebrimbor and Gil-galad. The published Silm is pretty sparse on what Celebrimbor does in the First Age following his renunciation of his father, so I kept him in Nargothrond, and he arrives on Balar with the first wave of Nargothrond refugees. He's cut ties with his family. Ereiniel, on the other hand, is hungry for connection with her father's kin. And I truly believe that Gil-galad and Celebrimbor were friends before the whole Annatar thing, so this story is allowing me to explore the early days of that budding friendship.

With my OCs Henthael and Gurvadhor, I'm fine-tuning my ideas regarding Fingolfin's followers -- how loyal they would feel to him as the one who led them across the ice and ruled them for four and a half centuries, and how that loyalty might or might not transfer to Fingon, who was his father's heir but also a Kinslayer. Whose loyalty might that fact affect? Who would overlook that pesky detail and who wouldn't?

And last but not least, Elvish gender roles and sexual norms, which I'm exploring via bisexual baby butch Ereiniel. I love her, your honor. ❤️

I am tagging: @vidumavi, @melestasflight, @cuarthol, @polutrope@, leucisticpuffin, @emyn-arnens, @polutrope, @swanmaids, @sallysavestheday, @thelordofgifs, @zealouswerewolfcollector, @hhimring, @elfscribe, @lucifers-cuvette, and anyone else who hasn't done this yet but wants to!

[dontforgetoctober3rd]

Short little Rhaemond drabble about Aemond doing The Most™️ when helping Rhaena with her hair...

👉👈😙

(A no Dance AU, they are long since married, everyone happy yada yada yada etc. )

- - - - - - - - - -

THE LESSON

Aemond Targaryen was not particularly showy in public with his affections in the beginnings of his marriage. However, this did not mean he held no love for his wife. He was very much in love with Rhaena, but his rigid upbringing did not make him feel comfortable expressing his emotions openly the way so many others did and instead Aemond at first channeled his love into acts of service involving his bride’s hair.

The prince would make a habit of arriving to Rhaena’s chambers early enough that she was still getting ready for the day, and every few weeks he would simply sit and talk with her while her maids went through the process of freshening up her tresses. Until one day to her surprise, the fifth time Rhaena was getting her locks tightened and maintained, Aemond shooed away the maids and set to the work himself.

“I did not know you were experienced in the art of hair care, my love,” Rhaena joked, moving her head at his slight nudges whenever he selected a new loc.

“I’ve seen the maids at it often enough.” Aemond fastened a clutch of locs to Rhaena’s head with a long pin, getting them out of the way of the one he was to work on next. “I can do this for you just as well as they can.”

“So you can,” Rhaena smiled to herself. His hands, so adept with a sword and so skilled with the bow, were soft on her scalp. He was gentle as could be.

“I’ve also found a new tonic for your hair. To brighten the color with your regular washing in between your maintenance days...”

“Oh?”

“Queen Visenya would use it. Her own recipe. Not that you need it but I know how much you admire her and her famous concoctions. This one was buried deep in a food recipe book, of all things.” Rhaena hummed and enjoyed the information Aemond dumped on her as he would continue his work.

As time went on, Rhaena felt more comfortable asking Aemond for his opinions over a new accessory or headpiece to wear, often among guests at a ball or feast. He was usually seen toying with a strand of her hair, growing more comfortable himself in openly showing his love.

Being a royal, people often talk of you and your habits and with Prince Aemond and Lady Rhaena it was no different. First, it had been of the unlikeliness of their betrothal due to their less than amicable childhood. Now, the topic was of Rhaena having her hair looked after by her husband.

Many men of the keep thought it unseemly for a husband to have a fascination with his wife’s hair. Men were supposed to be warriors and rulers of their household, not lower themselves to participate in such frippery as looking after their wife’s hair...

One unfortunate day, one man was bold enough to voice this very opinion at training. Aemond swiftly and without hesitation shot an arrow through his jaw, not killing the man but doing it in such a way that his tongue was skewered through and rendered useless. No one rushed to the man’s side. Aemond called for a maester as he would call for a fresh horse. He tossed the bow to a shocked squire and walked over to the sword table, picking one as he spoke loudly and clearly.

“Let this be a lesson for all of you: my habits concerning my wife are not up for you to discuss,” he declared, picking up a sword and brandishing it. “I’m loathe to have all of you think me weak-willed and unable to handle a jest or hearing your opinions, so let me put you at ease: you can say whatever you wish of me. Talk of my missing eye, like you have for years. Continue talk of my position as a lowly second son. Talk of my lack of decorum at Lady Laena’s funeral all those years ago.” Aemond’s manner of speaking was light, not a hint of wrath in his voice, making his words all the more chilling.

The men remained frozen, the injured man continued screaming as the arriving maester attempted to staunch the flow of blood. Prince Aemond continued. “However, if you feel the need to speak of my lady wife in such a way that the things I do for her are to be perceived as....demeaning..know that your blood will be spilled. That is all.” With an unconcerned air, as if he had just finished giving instructions for the day to an attendant, he turned to clash with Ser Criston and continued training as the man he injured was dragged away.

Needless to say, no man in the red keep felt the need to give voice to such views again and Prince Aemond continued to care for Lady Rhaena’s hair.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Cha-Cha - An Enigma - Strictly NRC Dancing

Author Notes: And with this the Octatrio will all have their dance fics. I'm not gonna lie, I think Azul's turned out the best. But that could just be personal taste and/or the waltz speaking. While this specific dance doesn't have any inspiration the judges comments were heavily inspired by the judges comments on Milo Manheim and Whitney Carson’s Cha-Cha from Week 1 Season 27 of Dancing with the Stars. Just like the rest of this AU/series the reader is female for this fic. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more this AU/series, the fics can be found here: Strictly NRC Dancing AU Master-List

Type: Dance Au/ Female reader/ fluff/ platonic but you could probably take it as romantic if you squint a little

Word count: 921

The cha-cha was a playful and rather flirtatious dance, which meant one would naturally want a partner that could keep up with such energy. 

Cater, Ace, Floyd, or Ruggie would be the individuals one would select simply based on that description. But my partner was not on that list.

That said, Jade had no trouble being playful or even flirty. In fact, despite his usual gentlemanly butler act, he seemed to excel at both things. 

What he apparently did not excel at, though, was dancing.

Jade wasn’t like Ace or Lilia, who threw in too many of their own moves, and he wasn’t like Riddle, whose dance was rather devoid of emotion. Jade followed the rules but also managed to get into the basic energy of the dance. 

His trouble also wasn’t that he was lacking in strength or coordination. 

In fact, one could even argue that Jade was rather elegant with little to no difficulty. But then, to be fair, all of the mermen of Octavinelle seemed to have a natural sort of grace.

But despite having the makings of a good dancer, Jade was not good. I couldn’t say he was exactly bad either, but… Well, dancing didn’t seem to come naturally to Octavinelle’s vice-housewarden. 

He perpetually needed polishing if Floyd’s instruction during off-hours at Monstro Lounge were anything to go by. 

It was an enigma, rather like Jade himself. How could someone be so innately graceful yet so unable to dance? Was it a simple lack of rhythm? But that didn’t make sense either, considering Jade could play both the upright bass and the bass guitar in the Octatrio’s band.

It was truly unfortunate, because even during choreography, I could tell Jade had the makings of a good dancer who would be a fun partner. 

He was capable of teasing his partner and having a good bit of fun, save for the fact that while he was dancing, he was so incredibly out of his comfort zone. Because Jade knew he wasn’t a good dancer. 

In fact, he’d fessed up to it the very moment I’d walked into choreography practice and saw him standing there.

“I’m afraid this is more in my brother’s realm of expertise…” He’d trailed off, a rather uncomfortable smile on his face. 

It had been startling since the only other time I’d ever seen Jade out of his comfort zone was usually when he was up at any height, such as during flight class. Other than that, the eel merman seemed to excel at everything. But now I knew something else he struggled with. Dancing.

Despite my usual habit of teasing, I didn’t even think of picking on the young man as we got ready for our performance. Instead, I ended up smiling reassuringly at him, “It’ll be okay. You’ll do fine, and even if you don’t pass this class, there are other dances that I’m sure you’ll be great at.”

The tight smile he gave me was all the answer I needed, but, ever polite, he still responded as he readied himself, “I appreciate the sentiment, Prefect. However, I'd prefer not to have to perform again. I do not relish making a fool of myself.”

I patted him affectionately because Jade wasn’t all bad and I couldn’t help but feel for the usually poised young man. 

Seeing Jade behave awkwardly was… unsettling.

 “You won’t. Just think: you’re going after Ace. As long as you don’t gyrate as much as he did, no one will mock you,” I smiled winningly up at the young man and received a flickering smile to his face, half-amused by my words.

“No, but Floyd will crucify me if I ruin this.” I laughed at his comment, drawing a smile to his face.

And that wasn’t the only time he smiled. In fact, he grinned at me throughout our performance. Slipping in little teasing remarks even as I could tell he was doing his very best to ignore the multitude of people watching.

But even then, he didn’t pass the class.

“Your timing was brilliant, and you have a wonderful stature for a good appearance while dancing. But,” Crewel paused, meeting Jade’s gaze, and the poor boy didn’t even look surprised. 

He just stood there. A polite smile on his face as he received his condemning grade.

“You unfortunately did not finish your moves, and this is common for a boy of your height,” Crewel finished, glancing over to see Trein nodding his agreement before picking up where the younger instructor left off.

“Yes, your height and the length of your limbs seemed to be your greatest trouble, Mr. Leech. You stopped your motions too soon and didn’t stretch all the way through your legs, and even ended up looking a little knobbly kneed sometimes.”

Crowley pressed his hand to his mouth, frowning slightly as he nodded before looking up at the young man next to me once more, “Yes… I’m afraid we cannot give a passing grade for this performance due to too many technical issues.”

Jade accepted his failure with grace, as expected, but I still found myself patting him on the arm as I leaned around to better look him in the eye, “Either way, you did good. And I don’t think Floyd will crucify you.” 

He paused, glancing over his shoulder with his signature sharp-toothed grin of his face that promised he was just as much trouble, if not more, than his chaotic brother. "True, I would give him a great deal of difficulty with that."

If you would like to read more:

Previous Post

Next post

[captivemuses]

SHIPPING INFO. Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)?

I have very obvious favorites when it comes to some ships with some of my muses and I'm not afraid to hide that with how often things come out of my queue (i.e. Renheng, Jingheng, Zhongchi, Sampard, most of my moots have been following me long enough to know my big big ships that I love with my whole heart). Basically anything that comes out of my queue is an OTP for me (as long as I can find stuff to actually put in the queue based off what I see on my dashboard or in tags I go through).

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

There's not really a lot that I'm not willing to write (some of your typical things like non con and minor/adult are no goes for me) but when in doubt just ask me and I can give you a straight answer. I know I have some muses on the list with various potentially dark and/or triggering topics in their backstory and I'm not afraid to reference those things in threads when it comes up. But unless it's say going against my characters sexuality where I really cannot see them having a relationship or a really dark and uncomfortable topic I'm more than likely open to at least exploring stuff in RP's. When in doubt fr just ask me.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

As long as you're not trying to get me to ship an adult with a child I'm probably okay with it. Like I RP Zhongchi where there's a several thousand year age gap so unless it's going into illegal territory where a muse would get in trouble legally for the relationship nothing's off the table for ages..

Are you selective when shipping?

I mean I can be for some instances because certain muses of mine aren't the easiest to ship with for varying reasons (i.e Childe, Wriothesley, or Dan Heng) and they may involve more discussion and plotting and buildup than others could depending on the potential ship I'm being presented with. I like to think I have a pretty good handle on my muses knowing what they would and wouldn't be into for a potential partner and that can determine how selective or not I am when it comes to a potential ship. But like I've said in previous answers above, when in doubt ask me.

The only exceptions that would get an immediate no would be if someone approached me to write a ship on here that I have listed in my rules as being exclusive with another mun (granted there's not many in that category but there still are a few) or if I've hit my personal limit for how many muns I'll write a particular ship with (one example is Zhongchi, I already have three Zhongli's that I love with my whole heart and so does Childe so unless we're coming up with a specific AU to do my answer would unfortunately be no).

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

My personal rule of thumb has always been whenever hands are going below the belt and not intending on stopping is when I'd add a 'n/sfw' tag to an IC post or ask just to be safe. But I also don't typically write explicit stuff on Tumblr anymore I save that for private stuff on Discord. .

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

Like I said above, an easy way to tell what ships I like is go look through my queue tag to see what's been spit out because that's where you'll see a lot of ship art or musings posts be reblogged. There are some ships that I now have and love that were not initially on my radar when I first picked up the muse and now love (special shout out to @frozenambiguity for our Chaeya and their chemistry that had them making out already within a week of meeting and taking Claudia and me both by surprise).so sometimes ships sneak up on me just from talking to other muns.

Does one have to ask to ship with you?

Yes. Mainly just to be sure that it's a ship I'm able and willing to do (I've said once in a previous post if you approach me to ship your Jing Yuan with my Yanqing you will immediately get told no because that's a never ever never ever one) and to make sure I'm not at my personal limit for iterations or it's not an exclusive ship or not trying to make my muse be with someone of a sex or gender that they're not romantically or sexually attracted to. I have some very homosexual boys here on this blog that I just personally do not see ever being attracted to a lady, or if they did it'd be a very character specific sort of exception because they just clicked. .

How often do you like to ship?

I'm a self admitted ship whore because it gives me a copious amount of serotonin to write my muses being in love and being happy (or going through hurt so they can get back to the happy, shoutout to @suffearable for our Jingheng two IRL month angst loool) so as long as muses are down and other muns are down I'm happy to do the thing to give me more enjoyment during the day.

Are you multiship?

Yes. Aside from my few exclusive ships (Chaeya, Dancae, Renheng) any muse is fair game for a ship.

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

I mean I love my ships as much as the next RP'er and general fandom content consumer but I don't think it's an obsession to say it dominates my thoughts 24/7, no.

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

If I have to pick one and only one so I don't go on paragraph tangents about numerous ones, Renheng gets a special shoutout because it's had a chokehold on me for several months now and I regret nothing about it.

Finally, how does one ship with you?

You absolutely have to be forward and just straight up ask me if I'm down to write x ship with you or explore it to see if muses click. Anyone who's known me long enough knows that I'm quite shy to start (we love very negative past experiences with friends giving us trauma wheeee) but once I start talking to someone enough it's hard to get me to shut up, but I'm also a bit nervous at times starting new things because again past experiences with so called friends left me with lasting anxiety about being a bother to my RP friends and ship partners and it loves to kick me down bad rabbit holes every now and then even to this day.

So you have to be prepared for that with me, me sometimes needing reassurances that my brain is just being mean. But also I need need good and open communication from my RP/ship partners because I've had several instances in the past couple years where a lack of it caused friendships to split in very unpleasant ways and gave me the anxiety I still unfortunately occasionally deal with. I cannot stress how important communication is for writing with me just so there can never be misunderstandings or feelings being left unsaid because someone else didn't speak up with me. I promise I'm a potato and do not bite.

Tagged by: @delusionaid ty!!

Tagging: @reflective-muses @protectivemuses @gildedsplendors @galactia @whorunthewcrld and anyone who would have made Wriothesley proud having tea today