#we aren't even that close I'm not sure if I'm allowed to act like this

[starpros-sunshine]

Hmm tomorrow will be a tad awkward....

[larluce]

Arthur travels back in time to save Merlin (from becoming a tree) AU

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART2 (You're here) , PART 3

The king of Camelot goes to visit his magic tree before his next battle. This isn't new. He always visits it. But it will be the last time he does it.

Arthur: (caressing the bark of the tree with a hand)It's finally time. I'm sorry it took so long. (sighs) And I'm sorry I have to do this.

He knows he's being selfish. Camelot is better than ever, his people is happy and yet he's going to war, risking this era of peace. A war he knows he won't come back from. But it's necessary.

Gwen: (arriving) Arthur...

Arthur: I won't change my mind, Guinivere

Gwen: I know. I just want to understand. Arthur, why? The price is too high and the chance it might work too slim. And even if it does work, you are risking that everything you know, everything you built will never happen.

Arthur: It's a risk I'm willing to take. I can prevent so many things from happening, not only Merlin's fate, but Gawain's, Elyan's, Lancelot's-

Gwen: Don't pretend you're not doing this just for him, Arthur, I'm not a fool.

Arthur: ...

Gwen: He wouldn't want you to do this. And you know it.

Arthur: Yeah, well, he didn't care about what I wanted when he made that stupid deal.

It's been ten years since Merlin saved his life and was cursed to be a tree forever as a payback. He was now a majestic beautiful tree in the royal garden and the most valuable national treasure in Camelot due to its magical properties: It could give fruits with the ability to cure all ills and the most serious wounds, but also could give ones with the most letal poison. Its wood was the finest. Once it let some branches fall for its king before an important battle and the weapons that were made with them are still as good as new to this day. Though Arthur did his part, he knows Camelot probably would not have obtained the title of the greatest, richest and most prosperous kingdom if it weren't for his Merlin.

However, not everything was sunshine and rainbows. Like every treasure it was also coveted by everyone who wanted to use it for their own selfish purposes. Kingdoms envious of his power sent spies to try to steal its fruits, its branches and even to try to cut it down to leave Camelot defenseless. Others even tried to invade Camelot just to posses the magic tree, but Camelot's army was the strongest in all Albion so they never could and soon they stopped trying.

There was a time they almost got too close though. Once Arthur found a man holding an ax stuck deep in Merlin's trunk. He has gone so mad with fury, he almost beat the man to death if it weren't because his knights stopped him before he made the final blow. He was still livid after that, but he let Gwen handle the man's trial, because he knew he wouldn't be reasonable in the state he was in. In the end the man was sentenced to beheading. It was what the law decreed since touching the King's tree was by law an act of treason. The king who sent the spy had to make a public apology and give monetary compensation to avoid a war. Arthur did make sure the spy's head was cut of with his own ax though. Later, when he was alone with his tree, Arthur cried because he almost lost Merlin again. The king apologised to him over and over again between sobs and cried until he fell asleep at the tree's roots.

It was then when it hit him. One day he would die and there won't be anyone to protect Merlin from greedy people who will only use his power for their own gains. Merlin would be at his new owner's mercy and the one after that, and the one after that, forever without being able to do anything about it. The mere thought made Arthur sick to his stomach.

No, he won't allow that to happen.

Gwen: (with teary eyes) Aren't we happy?

Arthur: Don't say that. You have always made me happy.

Gwen: (laughs weakely) But he made you happier, didn't he?

Arthur: ...

Gwen: You never told me. Which were Merlin's last words.

Arthur: I love you... he said I love you.

Gwen: Oh... (smiles) I get it now. Alright I'll help you. Just promise me something.

Arthur: Anything.

Gwen: Don't feel bad if you can't prevent other people from dying. In fact, you don't have to do it. Just save Merlin.

Arthur: But-

Gwen: No, you have done so much for this kingdom and sacrifice so much. (cradling his face) You owe us nothing and you owe me nothing, alright? Just be happy.

They hugged each other tightly and they share their last kiss and I love you before Arthur finally went to bloodiest battle he'll ever had in his life. And, after killing 100 hundred enemy soldiers with his blade, the king of Camelot died at the early age of forty.

Later Percival and Leon retrieve the king's corpse and bring it before their queen who doesn't share a tear despite being broken inside. She orders for his late husband to be buried next to his tree instead of burned in a pyre, proclaming that's what the king would have wanted. The real reason however is more complex than that.

The night after the funeral, she secretly brings the druids her husband consorted for years to the royal garden for the ritual to be made. Before the tree, as was planned, is the Ancient Round Table of the Ancient Kings.

Druid1: A sword with the blood of 300 hundred man.

Gwen: (gives excalibur to him)

Druid2: Three dragon scales.

Percival: (gives them to her)

Druid3: And the corpse of a king. We have everything.

Leon: Will this really work?

Druid1: This ritual had only worked once in the times of the ancient kings and only because it was done by three of the most powerful sorcerers of that time. We are not that powerful.

Druid2: However, we have a great magic source (she points the tree). So it might work.

It worked! That's Arthur's first thought when he opens his eyes again and finds himself in his room 20 years younger.

....

HIII!! First of all I want to thank you all for giving the first post so much love! I was truly shocked because I didn't think the AU was that good, so I'm really glad you liked it. I hope this kind of sequel/prequel? was of your liking too.

I don't think I'm going to make this a full fic yet, but I can make snippets like this about this AU until then.

What else would like to see happening in this AU? Let me know in the comments or reblogs ;)

[psychostxr]

𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢 | emotions

PAIRING. jordan li x gn! reader

WORD COUNT. 0.7k

WARNINGS. cursing, mentions of death, marie bashing (i'm sorry)

NOTES. i have also hopped on the jordan li train, and my god, i've never had a character chokehold me so tightly

Since Marie Moreau joined Godolkin University, everything has gone downhill. After the death of your friend Luke and the murder of your favorite professor, your life has gone through a ball of shit. You didn't want to blame Marie. The poor girl got caught up in Luke's drama — drama you didn't even know existed — she's just as traumatized as you are.

That's what you would've said before news spread around school that Marie and Andre were the ones that stopped Luke, not Jordan. Your partner who actually fought Luke while Marie ran at the first sign of danger. The thought of Marie frustrates you to no end, but you have other things to worry about, such as Jordan locking themself in their room since classes ended.

For as long as you've known Jordan, they've always been competitive. They climbed up the school's student ranks at Godolkin, beating almost anyone and everyone who tried to get in their way. They were one stop away from being first-ranked. But because of Marie and Andre's 'courageous act' of stopping Luke, they've been pushed up the ladder, while Jordan has to settle for fifth. It hurts to see Jordan so angry at the world and themself.

You knock gently on Jordan's door, hearing the muffled sounds of what you presume to be Marie's interview with Hailey Miller. The room goes quiet, and you wait a few moments for Jordan to open the door. But they don't.

"I know you're in there, Jordan." You turn the doorknob, rattling the door in your unsuccessful attempt to get in. You sigh and lean your head against the door. "Please open up, baby. I'm worried about you."

There's a moment of silence until the door cracks open. You take a step back, seeing Jordan's somber expression.

"Hey," you say, smiling softly. "Can I come in?"

Jordan hesitantly returns your smile. "Sure."

They open the door wider, allowing you to enter their dimly lit room. Their room is nothing from the usual, with clothes strewn over their couch and textbooks scattered on their desk. You pull your bag off your back, setting it down on Jordan's bed to retrieve your laptop and the takeout you bought from Vought A Burger.

"I was thinking we could maybe watch Property Brothers and have dinner together?" you suggest. "Or any other show if you want?"

Jordan shakes their head, their lips quirking upwards. "That sounds really nice, actually."

You pass Jordan the takeout, unsure if they've eaten anything since having lunch with you earlier today. You quickly set up the laptop on the coffee table before sitting on Jordan's bed.

Leaning against the headboard, you open your arms wide. "Come here."

Jordan doesn't hesitate, settling themselves in your waiting embrace. Their arms wrap around your torso, pulling them closer until their head finds a comfortable spot nestled against your stomach.

Feeling the weight of Jordan's emotions, you hold your partner close, your arms enveloping Jordan's shoulders. You softly kiss the crown of Jordan's head, your lips brushing against their ink-black hair.

"I'm sorry you're having a shitty day," you whisper, threading your fingers through their silky strands. "It's not fair."

"It's not your fault," Jordan says, sighing. "Shit happens."

"This school is shit," you explain, your anger spiking. "You've worked your fucking ass off to become second-ranked at Godolkin, but because of Marie and our asshole of a principal, you've lost your spot."

Jordan lifts their head to look at you. "It sounds like you're more upset than me."

"I'm sorry, it's just..." You shake your head before staring lovingly at Jordan. "I love you so much, Jordan. So much that I feel everything you feel. When you feel angry, I feel angry. When you're sad, I'm sad. So when you go through these obstacles in life, you aren't alone. I will always be there for you, baby."

Jordan crumbles at your words, and a small smile plays on their lips. They lift themself and lean towards you. Their lips press against yours gently before pulling away, leaving you no time to savour the kiss.

"I'm lucky to have you," they admit.

As you grin, you pull Jordan closer into another kiss. But this time, you can feel the intense emotions radiating off them, and you soak in the passion and love from Jordan's kiss. The rest of the night is spent in each other's arms, binge-watching Property Brothers and devouring greasy takeout.

© psychostxr — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, translate, or claim any of my works as your own.

[kitscutie]

snow and roses: part III (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: part three is finally hereee! sorry it took so long i've been dealing with some shit and doing a lot of work as life's just gotten very busy but don't worry - nothing will be left undone and trust me when i say i already have the ending for this series planned out :)

im sorry to say guys but i will have to close my taglist as the size has began to affect my posts and tumblr keeps glitching out, sorry!

word count:2k

find parts one and two in my masterlist!

After the incident the previous day between Brandy and Arachne as well as the suggestions from Coriolanus taken on board, the mentors had been allowed one hour with their tributes to discuss tactics.

It was good yet bad all at once. You wanted to give Wovey advice, a fighting chance but yet you knew no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much help you gave her, she stood no chance compared to people like Reaper and even Lucy Gray.

She was small and innocent, young.

"In spite of yesterdays - tragic events, our president has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror, to which I and Doctor Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon - with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a specialised television presentation of each tribute to our audience to, well get to know them. You will have an hour to discuss strategy. You may begin." Dean Casca Highbottom spoke into the echoey room, so large it was almost comical.

All of the tributes had been chained to the tables like animals and it made you sick to your stomach. You were aware they may harm you but at the same time such treatment would drive anyone to violence, it wasn't simply because they were District.

"Hi Y/N." Wovey smiled, so innocent. So naive.

"Wovey. I was thinking about how you might approach the games and I figured what might be best is to hide. You're small, an advantage that the other tributes don't have. I'm sure we can find some spaces this afternoon that might prove useful?" You suggested, not wishing to make this conversation more painful and personal than it had to be.

"Sure." She murmured, gaze positioned on the chains around her wrists.

"And if you wait until it's dark and everyone is sleeping you could go to the middle - collect whatever weapons they have left, just in case but otherwise I recommend waiting it out. If they can't find you they can't kill you." The sentence left a bitter taste in your mouth, you had never pictured yourself recommending a child to wait her death out in your life. The Capitol Academy was sold to you with visions of wealth and power, and now you has gone from student to mentor.

"I don't want to kill anyone." She frowned. She didn't even care that she could die, only fearing harming others. You felt your heart ache and yet, you could do nothing. No words would be good enough to reassure her, no actions would be able to save her. For once, you were useless.

"Wovey-" You began your sympathetic speech though Casca cut you off.

"Snow, Y/N. Let's go." He said as peacekeepers arrived to escort you to Doctor Gaul.

You rose without another word to Wovey, aware nothing you could say would be of any help at this time.

You knew it was about Coryo's proposal which you had not helped in and yet you weren't too upset about it. You didn't need the Plinth Prize nor did you need Doctor Gauls' approval and so you set out to let her know of your lack of involvement in this task.

"How is your tribute?" Coriolanus asked after minutes of silence.

"Her name is Wovey and she's fine. A little frightened but aren't we all?" You said, you were hesitant to tell him too much of Wovey's weaknesses and you didn't know why. This was Coriolanus. Your best friend of over ten years and your boyfriend of a few months and yet, you had a feeling whatever you said would be used against you.

"I suppose." He answered. You supposed his tone was meant to come off charmingly but all you felt was unease.

"This proposal. I haven't done it." You let him know, it was the least you could do before facing the psychopath known as Head Gamemaker.

"We have. I handed it in this morning." He answered with a hint of pride. Impressed with himself that he had taken initiative, helped you.

"I thought I made it clear the other day that I wanted no part in this plan to profit off of peoples lives, Coriolanus." You muttered, increasingly angry with his dedication to the Games and what they stood for.

"Well if you want to help Wovey, I suggest you don't tell Doctor Gaul that." He smiled, holding the door to her office open for you in a feign attempt at being a gentlemen.

As you walked into her office you couldn't help but feel disgusted. It was littered with mutants, clearly created to kill, all sat in glass jars on shelf upon shelf. Stacked all the way up to the ceiling.

"Mr Snow, Miss L/N. Come and see my new babies." Gaul said as she appeared at the back of the room. Where she had been hidden, you had no clue.

You did as she said, never one to disobey your superiors, climbing the snake tank alongside her.

"Is there a point to their colour?" You asked curiously. The snakes were surprisingly beautiful, chromatic as they shifted around on top of one another.

"There's a point to everything Miss L/N. Or to nothing at all, which brings me neatly to your proposal. Which one of you actually wrote it." She asked, as if to catch you out but you felt no remorse in admitting it wasn't you.

"Coriolanus, Doctor." You answer, sensing Coriolanus' hesitation in baiting you out.

"Well, how shocking. I expected more of a conflict." She replied, as though she were annoyed by your honesty as she reached into the snake tank, pulling Coriolanus' proposal out. "They're good your suggestions. I'm going to recommend my team implement as many as possible for tomorrow. Now run along you have an arena to promote, and Miss L/N I must say - I am most disappointed by your lack of involvement in these brilliant ideas."

"Well thank you, Doctor Gaul for your offer but, I thought Mr Snow had it safely under his control." You smiled politely before you both left to 'promote' but more so survey the new arena. "Wait." You said stopping Coriolanus before you got into the truck. "I don't know what has become of you Coriolanus Snow, but I want the little boy who fought to provide for his family while also caring for others back. You are turning into one of them, and I'm not going to be there to watch the world burn beneath your feet." You spat, leaving him to think as you sat in silence for the rest of the journey.

It seemed Coriolanus felt spiteful towards your words as he too ignored you up until this very moment as you walked into the arena.

You smiled reassuringly down at Wovey who looked just so scared. You were only three years older than her and yet you felt a motherly protection towards her, one you couldn't shake off.

Infront of you was Coryo and Lucy Gray. At first you pitied the girl, coming from twelve must be hard as they were food deprived and worked to the bone and yet now, as she stood holding your boyfriends hand in her beautiful rainbow dress, you loathed everything about her.

Your eyes rolled as far back as they physically could, your disgust clear to anyone looking but only one person was. Sejanus. He looked at you with pity and for once, you appreciated it. You decided he must know about you and Coriolanus and seeing as nobody else did they all whispered about him and Lucy Gray, how sweet they seemed.

You walked around alone before he appeared at your side.

"You deserve better, Y/N." Sejanus said, eyes never meeting your own as you continued to survey the arena, never even noticing his eyes stuck on his watch.

"Debatable." You chuckled, feeling a sense of self responsibility for getting with a man as dangerous as Coriolanus Snow in the first place.

"I wouldn't worry. If there's anything I've learnt about Coryo it's that he likes shiny things, new things - and she's definitely a spectacle." he chuckled to himself, it was safe to say Lucy Gray's ability to impress a crowd hadn't been missed by anyone.

"He'll grow tired eventually. I was his precious rose once." You sighed as the reality of the situation finally settled in.

You soaked in the silence for a few moments before you realised Sejanus' lack of response, turning in annoyance to see his eyes following the hand of his watch clock closely as he mouthed a countdown of the minutes.

"What are you-" You began.

"We've got to go." He said, grabbing your arm and beginning to walk towards the exit cautiously, not catching the attention of any guards.

"What do you mean? Sejanus?" You asked as he would not slow, not for anything. You looked around, seeing everyone else still stood stationary as they calmly conversed.

"Just follow me, Y/N." He said, still attempting to stay calm but you noticed his wide eyes.

You walked in silence, your heartbeat getting louder in your ear with each step until you hearing went completely silent, vision going black as both you and Sejanus were thrown to the floor in a cloud of smoke.

It took a few moments for you to be brought back to reality as you sat up, dazed hearing the yells of people around you. Once again before you could even figure out what was happening Sejanus' grabbed you, pulling you to your feet as you ran out of the door. 'Enjoy the show' now sounding muffled.

"What about Coryo?" You cried out in desperation, no matter what he put you through he was your first love and you had always pictured him to be your last.

"If we go back now, Y/N, we'll die." Sejanus replied as he continued dragging you until you reached the fresh air outside. Your charred lungs welcoming it.

As you looked back through the doorway you saw nothing, no one. Simply black smoke. You felt guilty and yet still - deep down - your heart yearned for the death of Lucy Gray.

It had been five hours now, sat around Coriolanus' bed alongside Sejanus and Tigris.

He hadn't so much as twitched and it had your heart racing with panic, if he died, you knew a part of you died with him.

Tigris comforted you as best she could in her own worry, noting how his chest continued to move up and down steadily and that the doctor only mentioned an injured arm, not that he was at risk of death.

The appearance of bright blue eyes caught everyone's attention as you rushed to be by his bed.

"Coryo." You said, a large smile on your face. You watched as his eyes flickered around in confusion, landing on you for a few moments. You don't know what you expected, a look of love? What you most definitely didn't expect was one of disgust.

"Lucy Gray, is she-" He stated, looking to Tigris for an answer.

"She's alive." Tigris responded through gritted teeth as she looked to you with sympathetic eyes. Her reply was lost to you as the ringing in your ears after the explosion returned. Your heart beating loud in your chest. You placed a hand over it, feeling it pound against your palm.

Your eyes glazed over as you walked away into a secluded corner, waving Sejanus off as he attempted to follow you.

It felt now more than ever so official, so real without a doubt. You had lost Coriolanus Snow. He no longer loved you, cared for you or even worried for you.

The cage that was his heart had opened wide, setting you free and instead capturing something new and desirable. A songbird.

TAGLIST: @savannahsteen, @shine101, @tfimherewhy, @iloveyou3000, @summerli-u, @coconut-dreamz, @serrendiipty, @zucchinimalfoy, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @-ice-heart, @aza-writes, @bellstwd, @kaitlyn2907, @wheepsworld, @sarahskywalker-amidala, @velvet-spider, @gloryekaterina, @prettyinsatiable, @bduchrnskei, @riddlerloveb0t, @girlalwaysathome, @thegoldenskies, @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @charmed-asylum, @suvgs, @podiumprincess, @annaelise, @mywitchycat, @italiekim, @darkestbeforethedawn16, @stelleduarte, @leafydinosaur, @witheringawayagain, @clementinechatsshit, @lokidala, @notyourwildestdream, @prettyppetty, @motley-baby, @taylvvrr, @autistic-deer, @gamorxa, @jakesguitarpick, @pepperonipastas, @sbrewer21, @emma-andrea1, @nekee-lilac02, @tabea3, @im-sidney, @rosarosse, @jenifer0305, @Idontwanttobeehere, @chiyopipi, @coisas-da-dani, @sunnydays-funnydays, @italiekim, @andrew-garfield-is-bae, @rororo06, @soulessjourney, @upwritingallnight, @kierramofficial, @cellui, @xav-ie, @Stwoosevens, @LightVo1d, @lilanna34, @pinki-minki, @annaelise, @alexameliamg, @gloryekaterina, @bia-wayne-west, @hinata7346, @yunloyal, @perks-of-being-jojo, @iheartfike, @lucygreene, @utopiakys, @ennycutie, @eggmia, @malayawr18, @chess1ca, @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf, @elynswan, @siriusly-rem,

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[ronearoundblindly]

What are you thoughts on the Cevans characters (+ Bucky hehe) on giving & receiving oral? Who’s more into what, like which role do they prefer. Are any of them not into it at all? Do any of them like it more than actual sex?

Your takes on the Cevans characters are always so accurate 🥰🎀 Luv your blog <3

Ohhhhhh nessie. So spicy. So 😙🤌. Let's GO!

Warnings for, yeah, discussion of oral (both m and f receiving) with some references to other sexual acts for comparison, etc. We got there this time, gang, like all the way to hell...

Andy Barber

Into both but not his fave. Since Andy wasn't originally in my list of characters (and thus never got a favorite sex position), I'll tell you now that Mr. Barber is more of a face-to-face and hands-on lover. He enjoys a blowjob, sure, and he's by no means against going down on you, but his hands like to grope and wander more than those allow.

Ari Levinson

Really into both. Wow, just, really really into both. Can't say he enjoys it "more" than actual sex, but ohhh fuck it's close. Ari is a roar-as-he-comes-down-your-throat type of guy. He definitely is sloppy on you, not afraid to soak his beard before you even peak. I stand by my headcanon that Ari doesn't like his hair pulled though. He understands it'll happen sometimes, but he will move if you keep tugging hard. Much happier if you leave scratches across his shoulders instead.

Also, Ari strikes me as a man who would enjoy road head or pull over to go down on you if he's horny or bored or just because. I don't have a reason for that, but it's true. The end.

Curtis Everett

He's a giver 100%. Curtis isn't *against* getting a blowjob, but he can't enjoy it much if you aren't really into giving, too.

Maybe TMI, idk, but I also get the impression that Curtis really adds a lot of his tongue thrusting into you during the act. No reasoning, just vibes. He wants to actually fuck you with his face.

Jake Jensen

Whiny and needs practice but he appreciates both ways. Jake needs you to verbally tell him what to do and what feels good, so for a while at least, some of the fun is taken away from that. He also needs the practice not blowing his load about 30 seconds after your lips get on him. That visual--you kneeling or bent over trying to fit him in your mouth--just...does him in so fast.

Jimmy Dobyne

Nope, not really. Surprisingly, he has the skill to make you come without having to do it a lot, but Jimmy still crawls up under your skirt rarely. It's like The Best present when he does. Like, who the fuck did he practice this on to the point of expertise??? Makes no sense, but I'm telling you, Jimmy is the secret munch of the bunch. He'll let you go down on him, but he won't be the one to suggest it. That's purely up to you.

Johnny Storm

Eh--little here, little there. He enjoys the riskiness of oral in semi-public places more than p-in-v sex. Johnny is DTF always...mostly, so nothing is off the table...and he's fine being on the table, just for reference.

Lloyd Hansen

Lloyd is more of a receiver and a giant tease for going down on you. He talks a good game, and you'd think with the mustache that he's practically been groomed to be sat on. However, Lloyd likes to be smug as hell, telling you he'll take care of you but he just needs to unwind after his day. He doesn't really intend to put in much effort because Lloyd is good enough with his fingers and dick. He gets away with avoiding it.

James Mace

Similar to Andy for different reasons: he's into both but neither is his fave. Mace likes a lot of things a little bit. Every position is on rotation. He doesn't want you to get bored, or worse, to be boring, so Mace plays around constantly. Yes, you two still fuck in the bedroom 'the most,' but that's not from lack of other variety.

Ransom Drysdale

Mostly a receiver but in a less controlling way than Lloyd. He uses his tongue as torture on you, i.e. Ran has no intention of bringing you to climax and he wants for you to beg. He wants you to prefer fucking him. Ransom is too lazy for this to be a regular thing he has to do.

Now, again, don't ask me why but I truly believe Ran gets a kick out of choking you on his dick. There's a distinction here, though, because Lloyd enjoys watching you struggle to take him in your mouth while Ransom purposefully thrusts to choke you. It's not prolonged. It's just a kink he likes.

Steve Rogers

Will eat you out at the drop of a hat but thinks a blowjob is degrading to you. Steve has a very traditional notion of respect for the people he loves...and, no, he doesn't see the hypocrisy in that. His excuse is that he likes his mouth all over you, down there no different than anywhere else 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Bucky Barnes

Oh, fuck yeah.

What's there to expand on? Bucky 100% loves to watch you worship his body and loves to worship yours. This dude may have some social and professional hangups, but sex hasn't changed much since the '30s. Anatomy (more or less) is anatomy, and at least all of his romance bits are the same.

Does he prefer giving or receiving? It's pretty equal. You both go gaga over the other dressing up fancy...or dressing down...or when you're dressing...or, ya know, not dressed. Basically, it's just a 'yes.'

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm

[looooochie]

𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘆 | lamine yamal

summary: lamine toys around with his girlfriend.

TODAY, WAS YOUR sister's 19th birthday. And as she should, and of course, she invited you to it.

your outfit:

You were doing your makeup, as your partner was preparing to go to practice. He looked at you, and smiled.

Lamine admired your pale blue dress, and the all the accessories such as the butterfly hair clip in it.

As you already know, the Moroccan is a bit mischievous. And you felt a pair of eyes staring at you, and next thing, you slightly jump and the lipstick got misplaced on your face. All Lamine did was smirk as you gently tap his cheek.

"Lamine... now I have to do my makeup all over again.." you say in a tsundere-ish tone. "So what? Aren't I allowed to jumpscare you a little?" he replies slyly.

"No.. Now dont you have training to get to?" you ask. His smile faded almost immediately.

"Shit.. I gotta go!" he says giving you a kiss, and his spit went into that kiss. He wipes it off which smudges your makeup even more. He did it on purpose.

"See you at the party later!" Lamine says, before getting out the door.

Wait what? What did he mean by 'See you at the party later' ? You didn't think much of it, before getting your makeup kit and repairing the smudged parts.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋ ✧˚.༘⋆

After getting out the car, you look at your sister's house, it. Was. Lit. You could even see some people standing outside the house, that's how lit it really was.

You walking in through the front door to see tons of people in there. A lot of ballons, the music was blasting, and vice versa. Then you go to the backyard and yeah, pretty much the same, but with some people in the pool.

Excited, you search around your sister, and you find her, she looked absolutely stunning. She was wearing a tiara, a black dress along with some jewelry and black gloves to finish it off. You go up to her and she sees you.

(I'm just going to use Sira as an example of your sister's name)

Sira runs up to you, enveloping you in a warn, loving hug. "Hey, I'm glad you made hermana!" she says, very happy to see you.

I mean, Sira went out of Barcelona to fulfill her acting dreams and hadn't seen you in about 3 years. So she was. ECSTATIC.

"So, how has acting been for you?" you ask smiling. "Its been good. I'm just excited you're here." Sira replies. She moves her head a bit and sees your partner going in.

"Hey Y/N.. What's your boyfriend here for?" she asks. You turn around and your eyes widen. Lamine comes in and starts talking with the boys there.

"Uhh Sira.. I'm just going to Lamine. Is that okay?" you ask, a bit stressed. "Sure. I don't mind!" Sira replies. You slowly run towards Lamine and luckily, you didn't trip because of your Converses.

When you get to Lamine, you rapidly tap his shoulder. And he turns around. "Amor.. What the fuck are you doing here??"

"Oh, we got off training early and your sister's boyfriend,also known as my teammate, let me come." he smiles and slightly shifts so you could see him.

"Hey, what's good Y/N?" he begins. You smile and look at him closely, then you realize that it was Alejandro Balde, Barça's left back. "Hey, you're Alejandro Balde right?" you question.

"Yep, that's me. And by the way, I'm your sister's boyfriend." Alejandro smiles. "Thats cool dude. How long have you and Sira been dating?"

"Oh, it's been about two weeks. We met on Instagram and we liked eachother ever since." Alejandro replies. Next thing you knew, you found yourself having a conversation between Lamine and Alejandro, your new friend.

Ale looks around and sees the people gathering around. "Oh guys, we're about to go sing happy birthday now." Alejandro says, as he gets up from the sofa and goes in the garden. You and Lamine join him and walk towards the garden, hand in hand.

(I'm lazy asf so skip)

You look at the cake you were eating and you were stewing a little. It did feel a little stuffy in there so you wanted to take a breather. You go outside and sit on the porch, looking at the night sky.

The door opens and Lamine goes outside aswell and sits next to you. "Why did you just walk out like that?" Lamine asks.

"It was a little hard to breathe in there, and it was really chaotic." you reply. In return, Lamine pulls you close and puts an arm around you.

"I get you. It kinda was crowded." "Thanks." you say, and give him a kiss on the cheek. This moment was the best, just you, Lamine, and the, dark, night sky.

"Hey, remember when we got our first tattoos?" you ask, breaking the silence. "Yeah, that was actually pretty cool. I used to think if you get a tattoo, you're putting scribble scrabble on yourself." Lamine laughs.

You look down and your arm, and the ink it has. It was Lamine's debut date for Barcelona, you practically had to get that on you. Meanwhile his tattoo is of your name and birthday, so he had two.

"The tattoo thing was a really good idea Y/N." "I know." you responded as you, shift closer to Lamine and just, be there. For him.

[wakacreations]

Infernal Hugs:

What if Tav were to hug their love (Zevlor, Rolan, Raphael, Haarlep) after the immediate end of the Netherbrain battle? I thought it would be fun write up to do and to make sure I write them distinct enough from each other.

Zevlor:

We fell together. The heavens couldn't have written a more poetic fate. Maybe it’s by some strange form of repentance from Ilmater or a great act by Sune to have found ourselves here. Your hand reached for me as we plumped from the Netherbrain. How many times will you reach out to me? To save me from my perils? I grasped for your hand, my one devotion. “We will be safe.” You reassured me through the bellowing air. “You will be safe," I yelled back but my words never made it to your ears. “What," you called out to me. I pulled you towards I shielding you from the harsh slam from breaching the surface of the murky waters below. With a great thud we entered the frigid smelly harbor.

You choked on water as I rushed to drag us up to reach the skies above. We gasped when we took our first smoky breath of air. “Look out,” you coughed, pulling us down into the water as debris rained down from above. You motioned for I to follow you to make way to the dock. Are we still actually alive or is this some type of purgatory? Holding you up you clamored atop the dock, more so what was left of one. You held out your arm and I graciously took it as I dragged myself on the dry refuge.   We laid there basking in the warmth of the sun. “You know I fully expected not to survive that fall,” you breathed. “I wouldn't have allowed us to perish so easily,” I rasped, shielding my eyes against the rays of the sunset. “Did you have a plan for such a scenario, Commander?” You coughed. “But of course who wouldn't?”  You went silent except for your shaky breathing. “Tav?” I called out to you. “Yes?” You rolled to lay atop my breast. “Let's have a drink after this…” I sighed. If anything, not to dwell on their unsaid confession. “What changed? You're not one down a bottle, Hellrider?” I wrapped an arm around you.  By the gods they were the death of me. “You. You my dear.” They gave a swat at my chest. “You make it seem like I'm more trouble than I'm worth,” you huffed. I squeeze you close. “If anything that title seems meant for I.” You looked into my eyes. “Then we are meant to be, aren't we" you grinned. "Two people that are more troubled than anyone could comprehend... So we are the only ones who can tolerate one another.. So, a perfect match!” I moved a wet tendril behind your ear. “Maybe you are right.” Maybe I just lost my sense of reason. You listened to the beating of this weary heart. I idly stroked your hair as I waited for my strength to return. You yawned as we watched the sun dip below the horizon. If the gods are listening, give me the strength to fight alongside them even for just one more day. Sleep came to them when their body grew still. Their snores emanated from within my arms. Would it be alright for I to rest like this? I felt my own lids grow heavy. Let me keep this one oath to my radiant light, to the one I call home.

Rolan:

I didn't think you would ever return. I ran towards you as you leaned prone against the doorframe. I held you close not believing this was true. “You should have waited to be seen by a cleric or have drunk a tavern's worth of healing potions.” Your lips have turned a soft blue hue, the warmth drained from your complexion. “Why do you have no sense of self preservation!” I picked you up, your trembling arms wrapped around my neck. “I'm alright,” you whispered into my skin. “There is no point in lying,” placing you down atop the shop's counter.   Not to save my heart when death is calling for you. “Don't let me go,” you whined as you weakly held onto me. “Take the potion at the very least,” levitating a bottle, nudging the glass against their hand. You drank it appreciatively over my shoulder. I won't let you go, Tav. Not when you have come back to me. Some strength returned to you as your hold grew tighter. “Don't fall asleep just yet, the others are looking for you," I whispered. You shivered against my chest.   There are too many unknown injuries you might have sustained. If only that was a possibility you hadn't. I pulled my head back to watch some color return to your bruised face. “I'm so tired Rolan,” you mumbled sleepily nuzzling into the crook of my neck. “I know. I am too but promise me that you will stay awake for me, love.” I gently stroked your sweat-dampened hair. I won't let this be the very last moment for us. For I to hold you within my arms. For you to cling to I with such fear when this reunion should be met with tears of sweet happiness. This won't be the end, Tav. I placed a kiss upon your crown. With you in my arms.

Raphael:

It was a spur of moment impulse that the little mouse fell into my arms. I was in the middle of giving my grand wide armed bow to congratulate them on their well earned victory. “My was it such a spectacle to behold for all the realms to bear to witness,” I greeted them. I must applaud my own writing and to my main lead for their beautiful performance. Yet, you went off script in the bitter end. I should have expected no less from you. All joyous and smiling you were that you interrupted me, eager to rush into my awaiting arms. Hmm.. What manner of place is this for you to leave an unexpected surprise for me in such a gesture.  For the first words you spoke to me after the finale was for your desire to go home. “By all means, little mouse.” Such an eager pipsqueak you were If only you cleaned yourself up first. You were still covered in the sinew of battle which fit the image I have conjured of you for this heroic end… but the stench of those illithids clung onto your skin. Somehow you always found a way to irritate my senses.   Your body pressed against my own ruining my pristine doublet. But for now, what good is there to spoil the mood of our upcoming festivities. My arms came down to enclose you. “There is much to celebrate,” I purred into your ear. You shivered at my words. There is much time for you to rest but come morning the crown will be in my palms and for you to reprise your role. We watched on as the last remnants of the Netherbrain sank into the Chionthar. There is no better than the great savior of Baldur’s Gate to lead once more. The day of reckoning shall come. It is with a great honor that I thank you. “This would not have been a great act without you, little mouse,“ snapping my fingers, the lick of Hellfire consumed us both. Let's partake and enjoy our supper as the rest of the realms will come to know my name. Raphael.

Harleep:

Well well my little thief comes bearing gifts. You crawled towards me covered in whatever grim from that filthy plane. That little brat won't be pleased you have ruined his silken sheets for this special occasion. Well that is something he'll have to come to ignore. To say that I am surprised to see you again would be an understatement. “I made it back. I won,” you spoke as if your fears had all but vanished. To have held faith you would return here to me, you are nothing but a loyal pup. “Then come here and claim your prize,” I beckoned to you. So easily you let down your guard, Tav. You eagerly climbed onto my lap, embracing me. “You were free now little mouse yet you purposely returned back to the Hells.” I trailed my claws down your back.   My little adorable mousey, you are not the brightest in mind. You yelped when my claws pressed on a sensitive area. “They did a number on you didn't they,” feeling the openings of bare flesh where once plated armor clung to. You were always so delectable but now I crave for something more. “Yes they did,” you sighed enjoying my soothing heat. That’s it, just relax my dear. “I missed you, Haarlep” you hummed. From the lingering sweetness I tasted in the air your words were true. How foolish of you but did I ever expect nothing more. “Let's stay like this for a little while longer,” wrapping my arms around you. You always enjoyed the soft gentle acts of lovers. I have grown fond in your ways. “I missed you too,” my head fell to rest on your shoulder. I will play into this fantasy of yours. I do enjoy a game of make believe. The gentle thumping in that chest of yours is all I could hear. I closed my eyes, savoring in the waves of your heart’s pleasure. More sweeter than any infernal wine or the pleasures I bestow onto you when you come to rest.   Maybe just for a millennia he will grow tired of you and toss you away like so many others. Wouldn’t that be such a joyous fantasy? Your worn hands caressed my tense muscles. You shouldn’t have come back here, little thief. “It’s alright, I am here.” You soothed me with that tender voice of yours. I will indulge in you and for everything that you give but not here, anywhere but here. “No more tears, Haarlep,” you rubbed circles into my back. There is no such thing, mousey. My wings folded around us. He won’t let you escape here. “Please never leave,” I trembled against your small battered body. I am a selfish creature. You have saved everyone in Faerun, Tav. “Stay here with me, mouse. Pretty please?” For he has yet to return. Could you please save me too?

[theminecraftbox]

to be honest, I think fandom exaggerating dream's analytical and intelligent abilities dream's plan is literally so stupid, like, many refer to it as "ignoring feelings for the sake of strict calculation, the end justifies the means blah blah blah a smart, logical plan that will nevertheless lead to psychological dissatisfaction", but the plan is literally the most ill-conceived thing I ever heard, like, that's not even a plan?? they're testing the revival book in hopes that one day it will somehow help them achieve immortality and restart the server - that's just ridiculous and I also have no idea how dream expects that restarting the server will solve his/their/servers problems, like how is that supposed to work? and this “if we are immortal, no one will have to suffer and we can live forever and know and blah blah blah” such naive crap, honestly I could ask a thousand probing questions or give a thousand reasons why this plan wouldn't work in any reality, and I doubt dream wouldn't have asked these questions in the months they've been running their tests; the plan is literally just his feelings: afraid to die → need immortality, lost everything and it's killing me → need a restart and so on - there's no analysis behind this shit

I literally find it strange not the fact that punz allows this, although the plan harms dream, but the fact that he really believes in this plan and follows it, like, come on, punz is +- fine, there is no trauma that can overshadow his ability to think, why is he indulging in this stupid idea?

strongly agree / agree / ambivalent / disagree / strongly disagree / don’t care whatsoever

I think you're conflating a bunch of things. Dream's plan is not the same as his methodology. His methodology is not the same as his motivations. Having emotional reasons for a plan is not the same thing as that plan being stupid. "lost everything and it's killing me → need a restart" isn't a description of a stupid plan, that's a description of an over-emotional motivation for a plan. Just because you disagree with what his goal was trying to achieve doesn't mean that the strategies he took to achieve that goal were stupid.

Like, take staged finale as an example. I can argue that it's overkill or a poorly considered goal to imprison himself in dangerous circumstances chiefly to achieve a) protecting his close ally b) getting the server off his back and c) getting a sick base. But I won't claim that the steps he took to set up and execute staged finale aren't evidence of someone successfully using strategic thinking to accomplish his goals, which is generally what people are talking about when invoking strategist!Dream.

Dream expecting that his plan will fix his emotional problems isn't stupid in that it's a failure of logic. It's stupid in that it's a failure in identifying that his problems are actually emotional. Which gets covered pretty handily in the genuine finale! Tommy didn't say "your plan is stupid because you neglected to consider these reasons that curing death won't actually work." Instead, Tommy said, "your plan is stupid because you're failing to see that you're hurting people here and now and you could have the friends you want here and now if you just put down your damn book and make peace." which, I'm gonna be honest, also sounds a bit like naive crap to me.

Also, you're acting as if his plan is based simply on an unspecified fear of death when all signs point to it literally being a reaction to the existence of the revival book! Like, sure, when you phrase it like "hur dur maybe this magic book will fix my problems" it sounds pretty stupid. But what actually happened was more along the lines of "permadeath didn't exist on this server as a concept, now it does. revival didn't exist on this server as a concept, now it does. maybe one of these can be used to fix the other." Which is pretty damn straightforward to my eyes!

I really, truly don't see what the problem is with "plan fix death" when you literally have a necromancy book. (Like, logistically, not ethically or whatever.) It seems like the supernatural complications with the balance of life and death, whatever XD's deal is, the server reset, Foolish and the experiments upsetting the balance, all of that, came later (and lacks its conclusion for doylist reasons). but WHY the complaint that fixing death doesn't make sense????? that's like. thing numero uno when you have a damn revival book. sorry if I'm getting carried away but I've seen this argument before and it genuinely makes no sense to me. Reads the same to me as "if you have a hammer and some wood and nails why are you trying to build a table." maybe because I have the tools for the job?

Not to mention that even if we pretended that Dream's only motivation was trying to stop conflict, the plan "learn how to revive people" is still a really obvious solution! Make conflict not have permanent consequences? that's like. an easy mitigating solution.

Also, there's a more general conflation happening here between Dream's unwellness and a more general notion of stupidity. Which I also disagree with. His paranoid spiral led to him locking himself in a prison, but that doesn't mean it was stupid for him to conclude he needed protection, and that his allies needed protection.

The thing with Punz is a separate question, but it's one that I think Punz has answered handily himself: Punz wants knowledge and power, he says so outright, in simple language. He's not indulging a stupid idea: he's in cahoots with a guy who's brought him a ton of knowledge and power. The revive book is real, it's got real results, and it's shown Punz a glimpse of a world he clearly thinks is achievable: a world in which the supernatural shit has indeed been solved. And I don't see why you think he's silly to believe so, given the evidence he's seen with his own eyes.

[zzprompto]

transmasc bakugou x transmasc reader where they just help themselves through period dysphoria?

☆ sugar, spice & everything nice

ftm ! katsuki bakugo x ftm reader [he / him]

sypnosis : above !

the lowercase is intentional !

katsuki had been grumbling away in his dorm room all day. people noticed as they walked past, but they didn't say anything. they were too scared of him, afraid that they might get blown up by his quirk or even worse. nobody dared walk into katsuki's room, or even stay by his door for a second too long.

in reality, katsuki was acting like this because he was on his period. whilst being on his period, a massive amount of dysphoria just suddenly dropped it's load on him. it was always like this when he was on his period. he just always wished it would go away. too bad he wasn't on testosterone yet.

a knock was then heard on katsuki's door, followed by a voice. "hey, katsuki! open up!" [name] said on the other side of the door, being persistent with his knocking. he then groaned, getting ready to leave as his boyfriend wasn't opening the door. and, as if by coincidence, the door swings open and katsuki drags [name] inside.

"i guess it's safe to say you've started too, huh?" [name] said as he got dragged inside, a small chuckle following his words. katsuki just glared at [name] and lead him to the bed so they could lay down together.

katsuki groaned once more as he reached the bed. he wrapped his arms around [name]'s waist, pulling him close before resting his hands on [name]'s waist. the heat from his palms were soothing for [name]'s cramps. he was glad his boyfriend had his quirk at times, other times he wasn't so glad. such as the times where katsuki threatened to blow him up the last time he was on his period.

"this thing is so stupid. why do i have to have a stupid period when i'm not even a woman?" katsuki mumbled under his breath, clearly feeling frustrated and dysphoric about his situation. "sure, periods aren't what define a woman but whatever. this thing sucks, makes me feel like less of a guy." he continued to mutter, and [name] hummed along as he listened.

"at least when we both start going on t, our periods will stop. but, who knows how long that'll be." [name] responded, trying to sound hopeful but it was no use. katsuki still grumbled and moaned, even rolling his eyes at [name]'s comment. "yeah, and how long is it going to be that we'll be allowed to start?" the blonde boy huffed in response, a sigh escaping his lips.

the two of them stayed in silence for a little while, not saying anything. the sound of their breathing and slight shuffling around on the bed filled the room. that was before [name] decided to speak up once more.

"you know, even though we still get our 'shark week' every month, i still view you as a guy. even though we haven't started any hormone therapy or anything. you're still a man to me, and you're my boyfriend." [name] whispers softly, a small smile on his lips as he speaks. he wants katsuki to feel less dysphoric about his period, and reassure him at the same time. "plus, you're super manly." the boy chuckled, imitating kirishima.

katsuki rolled his eyes at [name]'s words. he really tried to hide how much they meant to him, but the small blush on his cheeks, the picking up of his heartbeat and the smile on his lips made it obvious that they meant a lot. "thanks, [name]." katsuki mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to the back of [name]'s neck. "you're.. manly too. despite everything, we're still guys aren't we, huh? just two guys who bleed out every frickin' month." he grumbled under his breath.

for the both of them, having their periods did affect them. they were both trans so when their periods came they doubted their identities. however, with eachother, they got through it. every month. they didn't give up on eachother, nor did they give up for what they stood for too.

"how about we go eat some spicy noodles? i have the ones you like in my room. we can prepare them in the common room." [name] said, detangling himself from katsuki to sit up on the bed and shake him. "we can't spend all day sitting here like grumps. we'll stick to the bed." he continued to mumble and shake katsuki.

"spicy noodles? tch.. you do know me, huh?" katsuki chuckled softly, sitting up too and placing a quick peck on [name]'s lips. "i guess we're boyfriends for that reason though, aren't we?" he hummed, a small smirk on his lips before getting out of bed and making his way out of his dorm. [name] followed close behind, seeming to be in a better mood than his boyfriend who had his hand stuffed in his pockets and was grumbling the whole way.

the two finally got to the common room. on the way there, [name] picked up the noodles from his dorm and started preparing them. katsuki started chopping up some vegetables to add to the noodles, as well as boiling an egg. once the noodles were finished, katsuki added his toppings and let [name] add some too. the two then sat on the couch together, eating their noodles.

"we're always here for eachother, aren't we?" [name] said softly as he looked at katsuki. "no matter what. i mean, our cycles aren't synced too so." he added, wiggling his eyebrows. katsuki immediately shoved [name]'s face out of his view so he could finish chowing down on his noodles.

a few others went down to the common room and got some food for themselves. they were talking in their own groups and laughing. kaminari and kirishima came up to katsuki and [name], grinning at the two of them.

"seems like bakugo finally got out of his room!" kaminari commented with a laugh. katsuki glared at kaminari and almost got ready to use his quirk on the other boy. "and he's not grumbling too." kirishima added with a chuckle.

[name] looked at the two boys before looking over at katsuki. he smiled and pinched his cheek, a little coo escaping his lips. "it's because of me, isn't it?" [name] said with a small smirk. katsuki almost blew him up too.

kirishima and kaminari decided to back off. they went over to other members of the class, occasionally looking back at katsuki and [name] with a chuckle.

"i love you." [name] whispered, ruffling katsuki's hair gently. "my handsome boyfriend, my manly man." he said, obviously teasing the blonde. katsuki just rolled his eyes and scoffed at [name]. "yeah, yeah. whatever. i love you too." he mumbled, eating his noodles.

the two of them then shared the same routine throughout their next cycles. comforting words, spicy food and laughs with their friends. it was perfect, and it helped both of them get their minds off of their period and their dysphoria.

author's note : hope you guys enjoy this ! again, sorry for posting so slowly. i'm just on holiday so i've been relaxing more. i will try and get requests out and more things though! keep requesting ! <3

- navigation : masterlist : request

[galactiquest]

We all know how touch starved Knives is but what if his s/o was also touch starved to the point of clinging on to him like a kola or a backpack. Just thought it may be funny that he's just acts like it's just the norm walking around with his s/o hanging off him.

Touch-starved Knives? I'm already there. I'm in the theater, Anon. I've got my popcorn and my large drink and I'm ready.

This idea was so cute to me I decided to write you some little imagines and a bite-sized ficlet, too! Hope you enjoy!

Millions Knives x Reader: Touchy

Content Warnings: None again, just tooth-rotting fluff. Doesn't have any specific Knives incarnation in mind, since they're all ever-so untouched and in need of touching.

First off, don't expect him to outright admit anything, ever. Knives is very much a "if I don't think about it, it'll go away" kind of guy. So there's no way he'll ever come up to you and be like hey, guess who didn't get enough skin-to-skin contact as a growing youth, this guyyyy. But do expect him to start getting clingy once he realizes he can.

It's like getting your first taste of your new favorite food. Now that you've had it, you can't get enough. Suddenly he's pressing his hand up to yours while standing next to you (not handholding, he tried this once and got overwhelmed and had to go bite something for a while). Or he's hovering behind you, resting his head on yours. Or he's laying next to you, tracing patterns across your arm/shoulder/back/whatever's available and allowed to be touched.

It's one thing if you're fine with touch. But if you're touch-starved like him, on the other hand? You're trying to sap that same affection from him. Since he's quick to overwhelm (as previously stated) it can be hard at times, but he slowly, surely, gets used to the sensations of pressure and touch that aren't violent or painful, just kind and pleasurable.

So, the touch becomes more constant, more level, more in-tune with each other. It starts feeling very natural. And that natural-ness feels great.

Hugs. So many hugs. That feeling of pressure between the two of you is relaxing and reassuring. (Also you totally get pressed into those "airbags" of his if you know what I mean.) He's so precise with his movements that he can hold you at the exact tightness that makes you feel the best. Who needs a weighted blanket when you have the Compression Boyfriend?

Koala backpacking? Absolutely. 100%. Crawl all over this man. Crawl up him like a vine. He's so used to it by now, he just lets it happen, even in the middle of work. Sometimes he'll pretend you're not there, just for the giggles. Completely straight-faced, but makes you laugh like mad.

If this is Stampede Knives we're specifically talking about (though I personally think the other Knives do this too) then you get to sit next to him, or even on his lap, while he's at the piano. No naughty business--just being close to each other while he plays the keys. Or maybe he'll ghost his hands over yours and show you how to play/follow your playing, if you already know how.

Alright, a little ficlet below the cut just for you.

"...My liege."

"What?"

Legato frowned at the sight before him. There was important business to be done, and here Master Knives was, fooling around. Letting you, the human he'd bonded with, crawl all over him like an insect.

"If nothing's amiss, Legato, then let's get to work." Knives huffed and picked up the paperwork from the table.

You shifted around slightly on his back, head resting on his shoulder, watching as he shuffled through the papers. This was one of your little games with him--you'd hang out on his back, literally, and he'd pretend you weren't there. He didn't care about the game, really, but it made you laugh. And if it made you laugh (one of his favorite sounds, if he had any), it was worth it.

"...Master Knives."

"Spit it out."

"Get that human off your back."

Knives growled. "That human has a name, you know. Besides, there's no human on my back."

You stifled a laugh as you looked at Legato, mouth twisting downwards in a frown.

"Yes, there is." Legato pointed. "They're right there!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Knives shook his head, then turned around to procure some more files from a shelf. As he turned, you looked back to Legato and stuck your tongue out at him.

"You arrogant little--"

"Legato," Knives grunted. "If you mean to insult me, I'll gladly slice you open."

Legato fumed, then finally spoke again. "Not at all, my liege."

"Good." Knives leaned over to rub his head against yours for just a moment, then returned towards Legato. "Then, let's get to work."

End Notes: I have a soft spot for Knives. And a soft spot for Knives learning to love, well, love. This is also dedicated to my friend who lets me shout about Knives at them. You're the best, K!

[chimielie]

my lover, my life, my shawty, my wife

summary: Ushijima x f!Reader. snapshots of eternal youth.

word count: 1.3k

cw: lighthearted manhandling, longterm established relationship ups (and one down), marriage talk and mention of toshi’s parents’ divorce. it’s basically all fluffy and silly tho

a/n: nobody @ me i wrote literally 99% of this a couple weeks ago and just remembered it was in the drafts today i’m working on the promised fics!!! it will just be A While i’m slow okayyy 💘 anyway enjoy some pure ushijima fluff

“Ushiwaka!!!” You shriek, voice breaking with laughter as you slam your hands against his backside. “Put me down, you—you barbarian! Kidnapper! Plunderer!”

He doesn’t say anything, just jostles you gently so your top half (currently upside-down over his broad shoulder) sways while your legs stay firmly in the grip of his arms. You know it’s as close as he’s going to get to a verbal admonishment, your current position already more than enough of an indication that he is fed up with you acting up in a public setting.

“Fine,” you scrunch up your face, sure that he can envision it just the same as you can see in your mind’s eye the near-invisible traces of amusement on his face. “Ugh, you��re going to make me sick. You are so bossy. I can’t believe you think that you can just pick me up and carry me around and tell me what to do. You don’t even say please, you know that?”

He probably gets the idea that he can just pick you up and carry you around and tell you what to do from the ten years that he's been doing all those things, since high school.

You've never gotten sick from being carried like this, either.

“You are bossy,” he says simply in rebuttal. "You say please but you know I'll do whatever it is you want. Even unreasonable things."

"I'm always reasonable," you say. He pats your butt in a way that isn't supposed to be condescending but is. You smack his in return and enjoy the way his back muscles tense up. "Ooh, you've been training your glutes."

He's been doing it in your home gym. You've always been loud about obvious things like this; he doesn't understand it, especially, but he likes it. At first, that had been much of your relationship. You were loud and obvious about your feelings for the up-and-coming teenage ace, and he didn't understand you, but he liked you.

He considers, and then revises his previous thought. He understands you better now. You talk through even things you and he know well because it helps you to process your thoughts, and you are determined to be shocked and delighted by all small things in the world.

"Hello, Bo-kun!" you wave to his teammate. Bokuto, bless him, attempts to bend over upside down to mimic you.

"Hey, Ushijima-san!" Ushijima is lucky that everyone in the facility knows you and you don't have to clarify to any security guards that you aren't in danger, for real. You take offense to the idea that you couldn't win in a fight against him, anyway.

You had been asserting this particular belief, actually, to the rest of the Japanese men’s volleyball team while they stretched post-practice and friends and family were allowed on court to distract them. Atsumu had been egging you on, urging you to try fighting another of the players since he didn’t trust Wakatoshi not to let you win currently. You had rolled up your shirtsleeves when the ace scooped you up and you had, already protesting, waved goodbye to the blond, a huge grin on your face. He had saluted you as you went.

“We’re not married yet,” you say, bonking your forehead into Wakatoshi as he stops short. “You all don't have to keep saying that. Please, call me—”

"Oh, Waka-kun said," Bokuto starts before being cut off.

“We may as well be," Wakatoshi says, turning to face Bokuto (At least turn sideways so I can see, you complain). "It'll happen eventually, so we can start practicing by calling her my wife now."

"What?!" You say. "Don't say things like that. You sound like you like me. Do you like me? Do you want to be more than friends?"

People have always talked about your relationship in begrudging terms. "Oh, opposites attract, I guess..." spoken in a disbelieving and reluctant tone. He understands. Most high school relationships didn't work out. Most people would get frustrated with him and his communication style. Then most long-distance relationships didn't work out. Most young professional athletes wanted to try new things, new people.

Wakatoshi doesn't understand why he would want to try something new when he had something perfectly fine with you. He had said that to you, once, when you were in Sapporo and he in Koganei. You had gotten very quiet for the rest of the call and then remained quiet for two weeks, sending all of his messages to read and calls to voicemail. It had taken a short flight and a shy, quiet apology to right his wrongs. He had known that he would spend the rest of his life with you, he said, forgetting to blink even as you furiously swiped away tears, a month in when you were fifteen. Barely longer than this terrible time you had stopped even fighting with him, just giving up on him. Why would he try anything else when he had never deviated from this path?

But what if you're just not seeing that there might be something better out there for you, you had said, voice angry but face already forgiving. Worse, what if you do see that someday? You’ll get tired of settling.

He had shaken his head. There isn't something better. Please, continue to be patient with me. Your breath had burst out of you in a single sob, and then you were yanking him toward you, ordering him to kiss you so you'd stop crying in front of all the neighbors.

Considering his parents' marriage, one might have thought that he would have more qualms about the concept than he did. You didn't seem interested in pressuring him there, though, and when asked just reminded him that living together long enough would result in common-law marriage anyway, so he just had to tell you if he ever wanted to stop living together. After several years separated and more reunited, he hadn't yet found any desire to do so. He definitely had strong negative feelings about being away from you for extended periods.

He was very lucky that you had chosen a career path which would allow you to travel essentially anywhere with him, find lucrative work anywhere with him. The home gym had actually been your gift to him, from the bank account you didn't share. It was the most thoughtful and horrifyingly expensive gift he had ever received. He had retaliated by hiring your most favored interior designer to rework your apartment into something both sentimentally familiar and not decorated entirely on the whim of two mid-twenty-year-olds. While they worked, he took you on vacation.

"We have to go," Wakatoshi adjusts you in his hold, nodding to his teammate. You’re quiet for a bit, so he puts you down, steadying you by your waist until your head stops swimming.

“You know we have to talk about these things,” you say, looking steadily at him.

“Yes,” he rumbles, considering his words for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about it more often recently. I still don’t feel strongly about the idea of a wedding, but I want you to be my wife. If you want to be.”

Insecurity sparks in him. You enjoyed your friend’s weddings, but perhaps you didn’t want one of your own, or one to him. Perhaps he had crossed a boundary.

“I don’t know,” you tap your lips with a finger, and a weight lifts off his chest when you smile at him. “I’ll see when you ask me. But I want it to be sometime in the future, somewhere more scenic than your athletic facility, okay? With a ring and a sappy speech.”

He smiles, then, his teeth showing. An explosive and momentous display of emotion.

“I’ll be sure to say please.”

[deepdreamnights]

Hey there, saw your post re: harassment around artists using gen ai and thought it was great esp with the debunking of data usage myths. Would you share your thoughts regarding concerns that models are being trained to copy specific art styles and thus pose a direct threat to the artists whose art styles are being used?

Well, there's several levels to that.

The main one is that on copyright grounds, styles are explicitly non-copyrightable. Moreover:

No one's style is unique

No one's style is unimitatable by analogue means.

The second point is important, because anyone can go on Fiverr right now and and find someone to replicate any given art style, and every competent draftsperson has to be able to do it to some degree or another. No major animation house, art studio, or comic company has ever hired someone because they couldn't find someone else that could imitate the surface-level aspects of their style.

The first point is just a matter of basic reality. Ex-nihlo creativity either doesn't exist or is so rare as to be a once-in-an-epoch thing. Everyone builds on the influences that they learn from, and if you think someone has a unique style what they really have is a different media diet than you.

For example, Don Bluth. Born 1937, aged 15 in 1952.

Same year Time released this this picture of Burlesque Performer Dale Strong.

Someone made an impression.

Marilyn Monroe was also a national sex symbol when Bluth was a teen, putting some context to most of his other ladies, but especially Goldie Pheasant (or maybe she's more Jayne Mansfield, hard to tell through the bird-ness). His art style has obvious roots with Tex Avery and I would guess he read Mad Magazine a lot as a kid.

And Not to hang the guy out to dry alone, I was a teenager in the 1990s, and most of my sexy fictional ladies are 9/10 some combination of Dana Scully, Peg Bundy, and Rhonda Shear.

The point being that style isn't something you create intentionally so much as an accumulation of influences, drawn from the commons. Attempting to claim ownership of such a thing is by itself an act of theft in my view, and allowing them to be protected under the law would mean a judge being shown exactly how many pieces of prior art the Walt Disney Corporation owns that your work superficially resembles. Why, they'll even run it through a style recognizing AI to make sure they catch them all.

But let's talk about style matching.

It just takes one image now, and doesn't require training.

Which I'm sure sounds frightening, but this has been the situation since February for Midjourney, and it was available in the Stable Diffusion ecosystem long before that. If the threat were as pronounced as feared, we'd have seen the impact by now. And we haven't, and we're unlikely to, for several reasons, several of them listed above.

The largest is that style isn't even close to the be all/end all of what an artist brings to a given project. And the kinds of execs who are making a 'replace 'em with a robot' kinda decision aren't the kinds of people who care about art style beyond how much it looks like the most recent successful thing. And nobody's ever needed a robot to ride coattails.

But the next largest part is that AI style imitations aren't really accurate because the robot doesn't see style in the same way we do. It's all just math to the robot, and it prioritizes what it notices, not what we do.

I'll demonstrate.

Jack Kirby will be my example, for several reasons.

He has a bold and identifiable style, he's arguably the most famous artist in western comics history, and he has many analogue imitators and homagers.

Using Midjourney and prompting "an illustration of dana scully by jack kirby, 1968, in the style of 1960s marvel comics --ar 3:4 --s 15"

Using the base model, on the first roll we get three complete style mismatches and one that's kinda close, though I'd say that's way more Sal Buscema or John Byrne.

Kirby's women had a certain, difficult to describe oddness about their faces that the robot doesn't seem to grok, and it doesn't touch on the kinds of wild patterns and bold black/white swatches that make Jack's work feel 'jack'.

Tom Scioli's take on Kirby is a sort of lovingly flanderized parody, but it captures the spirit of Jack's art much more directly even if a lot of individual details aren't period-accurate. He draws Kirby the way you remember Kirby from your childhood, but I don't question whether the page above is trying to be a Jack Kirby homage or one to Sal Buscema.

But Midjourney has style reference, so we can inject the Kirby right in. Using the picture of Sersei dancing from above with the same prompt, we get:

Well, the work is more convincingly period, but again, we're not terribly close to being on-point. In fact, they're not very consistent between each other. Top left is any 80s marvel fill-in artist. Top right is maybe Kirby-esq. Bottom Left is flat out Jim Lee, bottom right is very Byrne-y.

Using three reference images to give the best shot, I'm also moving to using images of a similar color style, and all with a woman as the central focus. I have included the infamous Crystal pin-up shot because as I said, Kirby women have a certain oddness to them (fondly).

Results (MJ 6.1 on the left, Niji 6 on the right):

It all says 60s-70s Marvel, but I don't think Kirby would be the first guess for any of them. Maaaaaaybe the lower-left Dana in image #2 if you squint.

And that's Jack Kirby. Massively popular and prolific with a career spanning decades. If anyone in the comics space should be impersonatable by this thing, its him.

I'm sure you could train a LORA to get closer, and sure, the tech is only going to get better from here, but by the nature of how the system works no generation pulls just from what is referenced. Every generation is both blended with other concepts and emphasizes only what the machine catalogs as relevant, not what we might.

There's not much to stop someone from imitating your style with a machine, but there was nothing stopping them from doing the same with an underpaid freelancer. The results are likely to miss the mark regardless.

If the client wants you, they'll try and get you. If they just want something kinda like you, they've always had an avenue to that.

Fortunately, you're more than your style, and whatever anyone can do with the machine, you can do better because you've got access to both.

[reallyromealone]

SOULMATES 7

Muzan x male reader

Male reader - omegaverse - Omega male reader - angst - fluff - mpreg

🔷🔹🔷🔹🔷🔹🔷🔹🔷🔹🔷🔹🔷🔹🔷🔹🔷🔹🔷

(name) missed being in his mates arms as he slept, Muzan wasted no time scenting him and his pups while (name) recovered from giving birth to twins.

It's now it should be.

(Name) I'm Muzans line of sight with his pups.

Muzan made sure (name) was fed with the finest foods money could buy.

"I wonder if they eat more because they're half demon..." (Name) mumbled as the twins fed off him, Muzan watching them focused "perhaps, I would need to observe more to get a definitive answer"

"Speaking of food... Have you eaten?" (Name) asked softly and looked at his alpha shyly "what are you offering Omega?" Muzans voice was low as (name) finished feeding the pups "I know what demons need to eat..." (Name) said putting the pups in their bassinets and not bothering to fix his clothes, letting the sides of the Yukata that belonged to Muzan hang off him.

That was another development, (name) only wanted to wear his alphas clothes if possible.

(Name) pulled Muzan close and took the alphas claw and scraped his own neck with it and Muzan was on him fast, lapping up his blood but never truly feasting as his bond wouldnt allow it.

And frankly he didn't want to hurt his mate.

(Name) tried not moaning as Muzan sucked and bit at his neck but god...

It was almost a year without fucking his alpha.

"I can't penitrate you..." Muzan said softly, it would be far to dangerous for him to do so with (name)s condition "when I'm feeling better physically, you aren't leaving the bed" (name) promised as he pulled Muzan into a kiss and Muzan slowly moved his hand lower.

The sound of crying immediately had (name) off Muzan and checking his pups, the black haired alpha stuck with an erection and realization hit him.

Until those pups were able to sleep through the night he wasn't getting anything from (name).

(Name) missed the calm in his life.

He was happy he could see his loved ones again even if was only once a month-- well two days one night.

He wanted his pups to know of their family, let them decide what they wanted.

And now he has it.

"They act like we haven't fed them in months" Muzan said caressing (twin B)s cheek as he fed, the two babes making sounds of comfort "they must eat every few hours, they need to build up strength" (name) said adjusting his babes "tanjiro taught me how to care for them, I would have been lost..." (Name) said as the pups detached "do you know how to burp them?"

Muzan was silent and (name) took that as his answer and placed a pup in the alphas arms "you hold them like this..." (Name) showed with (twin A) and Muzan copied his actions "and then..." Muzan copied him and looked at his pup in confusion as a toot escaped him "yeah, he's a tooty baby" (name) joked as the babe in Muzans arms relaxed and cooed slightly "they love cuddling after feeding"

"Cuddle?" Muzan looked slightly confused and (name) moved closer "you know how to cuddle, don't pretend you haven't held me close while working"

Muzan tried to keep a front but his pup with his eyes stared at him with nothing but innocence.

The pack snuggled close and Muzan looked at his family, curious on what developments their pups could achieve.

The second mansion was grander than the last.

A traditional Japanese home with the finest things and a nursery of the highest quality furnishings.

"Look what your papa got us" (name) said lovingly to the babes who were barely aware of anything but their Dam, setting them in their cribs to rest "I will provide only the finest things for you my love" Muzan promised as he kissed his neck "I must introduce you to my servants" Muzan said begrudgingly and (name) looked confused "I should get dressed then" (name) was still wearing one of Muzans Yukatas, wanting to be covered in his scent "I want to make a good impression"

Muzan liked that (name) wanted to make himself look presentable while by Muzans side.

Muzan brought the Omega to their grand room, connected to the nursery and showed (name) all the beautiful garments he purchased the Omega, fine silks and ornate accessories fit for an Omega of (name)s standard.

"Let me dress you" Muzan said and (name) nodded, letting the demons cold hands undress him slowly, kissing his warm flesh as he went.

"Why do you think he summoned us here?" Doma asked lightly as he lounged about, Akaza glaring at him slightly "it isn't our right to know until we are told" Kokushibo said stiffly and Doma groaned "you're no fun"

(Name) was dressed like a traditional upper class Omega-- though Muzan made compromises due to the omegas current physical status and need to feed the pups within the next few hours.

Muzan wanted (name) to be comfortable and still look regal.

"Doma?" (Name) smiled as he entered the meeting room Muzans staff prepared, the cult leader perking up at the omega "my... Don't you look lovely" Doma said and (name) beamed "how are the pups?" The blond asked and (name) beamed "they are healthy, thanks to you're help"

"Of course... My dear friend" Doma said to the Omega he was quite fond of.

Muzan saw the demons before him as lower than himself and by connection (name) though he didn't comment on the familiarity between the blond and the omega.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all on better terms..." (Name) said calmly, trying to ignore the fact he was surrounded by people who definitely want to eat him "I never got to formally meet you all, Muzan has spoken of you" neither fondly or with venom but he has technically spoken of them.

Muzan stepped in and spoke "you will protect him and our children as if you were protecting myself or your own lives" Muzan said coldly and held (name) close, gently caressing his side "he is my soulmate, anything that happens to him will affect me"

The demons took his words seriously, they were completely devoted to Muzan and now (name).

(Name) sat with his alpha as Muzan spoke of the arraignment with the slayer's before suddenly standing and briskly walking away, confusing the demons as Muzan got up and followed his mate. Muzan was annoyed till he saw (name) checking on their pups, a faint smell of worry drifting from the Omega "I don't like being away from them" (name) mumbled, not looking at his alpha.

"Omegas tend to be very protective of their young"

"I just don't want them to be away from me at all, they're so fragile"

"We will keep them safe"

But you couldn't keep me safe.

Unspoken words as Muzan held him close, (name) still thought of all those months he was away from Muzan and it terrified him.

If he hadn't been discovered by Domas followers he would have raised his twins alone.

(Name) smiled at his brother during the trade off, the twins sleeping peacefully as Tengen and the slayers greeted him warmly.

The twins could walk be in sunlight they learned as Tengen snipped a tiny bit of hair off their heads and put it to sunlight, nothing happening "that means we can go into town my little warriors!" Tengen said to his nephews who just sat there as newborns typically do.

"We set up a nursery for them" Tengen said as they walked further into the slayers Headquarters, slayers and the staff nodding at the two siblings as they passed "thank you, that's very kind"(name) said as (twin A) started fussing and (name) freed him from his swaddle and the newborn cracked open his eyes and gave a big stretch "good afternoon to you too my little one" (name) said as the babe looked around for his twin, seeing him in someone else's arms made the little one fuss and (name) immediately brought the twins closer. Like magic the little one calmed down.

"They're very protective of one another despite their young age" (name) said and Tengen looked at them fondly, it was like how he was with (name). During the worst points of their lives he protected him from evil and pain... Though this time he couldn't.

He couldn't protect his brother from his own soulmate.

"They seem to be loving this" (name) said softly as the twins lay on their bellies and made little sounds.

Till (twin b) tooted, startling the boy who started crying and making his brother cry in return and the relaxing and bonding the two were trying to have with the pups was spent calming down two startled babies.

"It's the little pups!" Rengoku said enthusiastically and (name) smiled softly at his once upon a lover who took the tiny pup from Tengen and lifted him up "ah yes I see I see" Rengoku pretended to have a conversation with the babe who kicked his feet "truly a master at conversation" he laughed and handed the little one back to his uncle "how's your stay so far (name)?" Rengoku was desperately trying to remain casual, pretending his heart didn't ache at the pups that should have been his. They should have been his, (name) should have been his.

This fueled his hatred to Muzan even further.

When night fell and the stars rose high up in the sky, Tengen bid his brother goodnight and went to meet up with his fellow slayers.

"Muzan has yet to make his first move" Tengen said seriously, the Hashira had been planning strategies on Muzan since he took (name), they found ways to keep (name) alive in the events of Muzan dying.

There was no way the lord demons himself would just make peace with humans.

And they needed to be fucking ready for a war.

[moodymisty]

Hello! I've never sent in a request before, so hopefully I'm doing this right? The Emperors Children and Fulgrim are really interesting in my humble opinion, so it'd be nice to see some content. Honestly something that is either really fluffy or just straight heart ache would be neat. Maybe the reader watching as the man she loves slowly becomes unrecognizable and debauched? I don't know anything really? I love your work! Thank you, and sorry if this is wrong, or request aren't open.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: I’ve not written for Fulgrim yet, so let’s break that barrier shall we? Here’s a snippet.

Relationships: Fulgrim/Gn!Reader (I will warn that the word nightgown is used twice but other than that zero gendered terms)

Warnings: None really other than the implication of slanesshi corruption I guess, and the implication of Fulgrim once wanting to invite Konrad for a threesome lol

Fulgrim enters his bedchambers, his armor long since discarded and climbs into the bed softly; crawling over silken sheets and blankets to lay behind you. You lay on your side and he comes closer until his chest is against your back, his legs touching yours. One of his hands raises to cup your shoulder and push the fabric of nightgown aside. Exposing your skin so he can press his lips against your shoulder, he tenderly kisses upwards until he reaches the crook of your neck.

“You seem worried, my dear.”

You tilt your head to allow him access to continue, while your face morphs into hesitation.

You are worried, but you can’t say the reason why; Not the real one.

“I’m just… I'm worried about Konrad. After everything…” You quiet yourself, and pray that Fulgrim doesn’t catch you in a lie. Though it isn't one, at least not entirely.

“Konrad lays in a bed of his own making. Don’t worry about him so much. I said what needed to be said.” You don’t face him, so you don’t hold back your face of sadness and worry as much as you should.

Konrad… Despite all of his issues, has done nothing but trust Fulgrim and attempt to connect with him. The two were quite close; Konrad desperately wanted one of his fellow primarchs to not despise him on first impression.

He was even kind to you, in his own way. He never once intentionally hurt you.

For Fulgrim to shatter his trust like that, destroy the relationship they'd had for many years, he’s changed. It was the final instance you needed to admit it.

But who could you tell? His men are his own and vehemently loyal and even if Konrad was here, he wouldn’t have the ability to understand or even care about why you’re worried.

Ferrus however, would.

You felt horrifically guilty sending such a message behind your lover’s back. But Fulgrim's gradual changes worried you, you've watched him begin to morph into something else, and his closest brother might be the only one who would understand why. His reply is still burned into your mind when you’d briefly managed to tell him something was wrong with Fulgrim without him or any of his Emperor's Children knowing.

When you return to Terra, I will send one of my men to fetch you quietly. Then you can explain yourself to me in private.

You can only hope Ferrus will hear your worries about Fulgrim and see what you mean, rather than cast you as insane. Though knowing him, the mere fact that he’s going to hear you out lets you know he already has his own suspicions.

But before you can sink any further into your own thoughts, Fulgrim's sonorous voice pulls you from them as his fingertips glide across your skin.

“My love, are you still acting so glum?”

His lips tickle the nape of your neck, a hand on your thigh pushing up your nightgown.

“Sorry, I…” Fulgrim laughs, fingertips tickling your inner thighs. You don’t know why it makes you feel a bit nauseous.

“You’re still thinking about Curze, aren’t you?” You nod and agree, if only to make sure he doesn’t get suspicious of you. He lets out a gentle chuckle.

“I’d rather you not think of him while I’m doing this unless he’s already in the room, my love.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Fulgrim had mentioned a few times about letting Konrad into your bedroom, but you know the Night Haunter would never speak to Fulgrim again. He's long gone; Whatever friendship they had is nothing but ash beneath Fulgrim's boots. And he couldn't seem to care less.

But Fulgrim doesn’t think that, think about how he’s destroyed his relationships one by one while you watched on; He’s too focused on your body and his own.

“Relax. Stop thinking about those pointless things, and let me touch you.”

[kedreeva]

I knew Berserker Male Syndrome was a thing(mostly thanks to your past posts) but like. Why. If hand-raising literally any of the birds you mentioned(including peahens) makes them more friendly, why does a peacock become a ferocious dinosaur when hand-reared? And if they're capable of that, why aren't outside peacocks like that? Genuinely intrigued here.

Theories abound and honestly I'm not 100% sure the same thing doesn't happen with chickens (hence why so many people tend to with roosters that "turn mean" post puberty but I digress) but I have less means to prove it. The most prevalent theory among peafowl keepers is that peafowl have much stronger family ties (even down to a genetic level we don't understand, considering blood-related males recognize one another as relations and allow blood relatives into the lek *even if they've never met*) than the other birds, with babies staying close to and following their mothers for 2-3 years instead of 2-3 months, and that if you replace that mother role yourself, the cock bird considers you to be another peafowl. For hens that's not a big deal- you're mom, you're probably higher on the pecking order to them, the hens all get along. There are a few people who report an aggressive hen, but it's usually towards other birds and (imo) likely due to improper social upbringing (the raised hen not knowing how to interact with other birds and defaulting to aggression to cope). In the case of a male, however, if you are also a peafowl then you must fall into one of two categories- a mate or a rival. You're not blood related by whatever they sense, and you're not going to mate with them, so the conclusion must then be that you're a rival male. Time to kick your ass out of the territory!

Unfortunately you're probably 10x or more their size, and aren't going to leave (except that you do, since you don't live outside/in their pen), which puts them into a constant state of stress and territorial dominance flux every time they see you (or other humans) that results in an incredibly aggressive male.

By "outside" I assume you mean non-hand-raised ones. When they're raised by actual hens or without a strong parental bond (like incubator hatched and brooder raised) they just... don't make that association with humans. You aren't a peafowl to them in those cases, so as long as you aren't acting like a threat, there's no reason to be aggressive toward you. There's the same chance there is with any animal that he's just naturally a dickhead (I've had it happen once, and I culled him for it because he was just attacking the other birds), but there's no specific predilection for aggression that could have been avoided in those cases, it's just genetic chance at that point.

[h0ranghaae]

from the first hi to the first i love you, chapter I:

the first time we stayed alone (but in the crowd)

mason mount series

genre: angst, fluff, smut, comedy attempts

warnings: language

word count: 2,7k

a/n: god knows i wanted it to be a one-shot thing, but then i realized how many chapter ideas i got, so i didn't want to rush and make it look like a brief description of each timeline. please, please tell me what you think about it 🤧 all genres and warnings will depend on a chapter!! (the story starts on may, 14th, 2023)

"Babe, I'm really sorry, but they'll eat me alive if I don't finish it in time," your best friend, Sonia, says with pleading eyes, and you pout. You came to London from Manchester to spend your week off with her, but her boss had different plans. "I know, I promised you a fantastic time here, so I've figured things out for tonight."

"How so?" the interest in your voice is genuine.

"I asked Mason to take you out today, so get ready for The National Gallery, the tickets are already boug-"

"Whoa, stop talking so fast – I know you want to confuse me so I will say yes," you place both of your hands on the kitchen table to steady yourself – mentally. Sonia looks closely at you across the table, so you continue. "Firstly, my fantastic time can only be spent with my best friend, not with her husband's friend."

"But you've known each other for around three years," she scowls. "He gave you so many rides."

"When I was with you," you protest. "When your Ricky was with us. And, secondly, The National Gallery? I can admire you, sitting in front of your computer, with the same pleasure."

"No, you’re going with Mason. You need to get out. Besides, he already bought the tickets. When he’s done at the training center, he will pick you up – so you have, like, two hours to get ready."

You sigh. Sonia feels guilty for not being the best entertainer – but you never expected her to be one. Still, she comes up with the weird decision you can’t decline yourself, because then you will be the one who feels guilty. Also, you are pretty sure Mason said yes to her for the same reasons.

Mason is a nice, polite, funny guy with warm doe eyes and a perfect nose. But he is not your friend. You don’t really know how to act around him – partly because you are sure that if not for Ricky, your paths will never cross. He is from a different planet – a planet of fame, interviews on national channels, trips all around the globe, and big money. And you don’t have a rocket to visit this faraway planet.

There is another reason to avoid him like a plague, though.

You have a little – or medium-sized – crush on him and you can’t allow it to gain any control over your brain. Or your heart especially.

"Do you want me to help you with your hair?" Sonia asks you, and you narrow your eyes at her through the bathroom mirror.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" you huff, wrapping a strand of your hair around the barrel of the curling iron.

"I took a break," she rolls her eyes. "It's like you're getting ready for prom and the school heartthrob is already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. I can't miss it."

You shake your head at her giggles. "You're acting like a crazy teenager."

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because you're funny!" you exclaim. "It's just Mason, and suddenly you're making a big deal out of it."

"But you're finally getting to the next level with him," Sonia raises her eyebrows, and you finally turn to face her, finished with your preparations.

"Yeah, from getting lifts anytime I'm in London to going to museums without even planning and wanting it. Besides, don't forget there is Jacob back in Manchester."

"Yeah," she rolls her eyes for the second time in less than three minutes. "When was the last time you saw him? Two weeks ago? Three? Sounds legit, for sure. Absolutely worthy."

Your weak attempt to disagree is killed with the sound of the intercom, and you're relieved you don't have to come up with delusional excuses to make your (almost) relationship with Jacob look not that bad as it is in reality.

You really like him, and you're so ready to open your heart to him – if you haven't done it already – but the local DJ (and you're wondering why this pathetic fact of him still doesn't give you an ick) is too busy, afraid, or just stupid to commit to anyone.

Or just to you. Or it's you who are just stupid.

"The heartthrob's here!" Sonia yelps, already pressing the button to let Mason in. You've never seen her move that fast. She was the worst at PE in high school.

"Oh dear God," you sigh, while putting on your jacket. Well, it's way easier to act annoyed when your knees are weak because of how nervous you are. You're right, you tell yourself, a very pale version of yourself in the mirror, it's just Mason, the old good lad Mason, and you're just making yourself crazy for nothing. At the end of the day, you really like Mason and don't want your frustration to be projected onto him.

Things with Jacob will get better, and even if Mason isn't your friend, you can still have a good time together tonight. And he can become your friend. And just the thought of it makes your heart swell.

"Hi there," you turn your head toward his gentle voice, always remembering how surprised you were the first time you heard him speak. His voice is so delicate and warm — the exact opposite of how manly he looks.

"Hi," you return his smile, letting him pull you in for a side hug.

"I didn't know you were in London until yesterday," Mason says.

"Yeah, because you weren't on my bingo card," you muse. "But the best event planner ever knows better, I suppose."

"Oh, get out already and let me work and you have fun. And don't come back earlier than after 4 hours. You know the directions, Mason, so take my bestie and go," Sonia taps on the wall next to the front door.

"Never felt more welcomed, bestie," you say, following Mason out of the apartment. And while he's standing in front of the lift, pressing the silver button, you turn to Sonia to whisper, "Text me every two minutes, so he won't think I'm some sort of hermit."

"Constant notifications can kill the vibe," she whispers back.

"What the fuck?" you make your words audible only for her. "That makes no sense."

"Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but the metal carriage is waiting," Mason distracts you, and Sonia takes this opportunity to shut the front door of her apartment. "After you," he gestures for you to step into the lift first, and you can't help but smile at him, entering the cabin.

The doors are closed now, and you're standing extremely close to him so you can smell his cologne – magnetic and just... Delicious.

"I like your perfume," you blurt out. "Is it Tom Ford?"

He hums in agreement, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "You're lucky, I took a shower after training. Just for you."

"How thoughtful," you reply. "But if I'm really lucky today, the universe will spare me from your amazing jokes."

"Nah, you're not that lucky, sorry," and with this, your trip through eighteen floors of the building is over. "Buckle up and let's explore the art. But let me warn you," he places his hand on your shoulder in a secretive manner and whispers in your ear, "The real art is you and me, so be ready – people will stare."

"Are we late?" you ask, and Mason just shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, totally unsure. The doors of the gallery are closed, despite his several attempts to pull and push the door handles.

"It seems to be fate," Mason says with a smile. "So, Starbucks for starters?"

"Just admit you manifested it," you follow him, silently appreciating that he slowed his usual pace for you. "I doubt you ever wanted to go here."

"Yeah, that's why I picked you up at five o'clock – I knew they close at six."

"Really?!"

Mason stops and looks at you in pure disbelief, "Of course not," he huffs. "It was sarcasm," he explains, but can't suppress a giggle escaping his mouth.

"You're so unserious," now it's your turn to huff, but when he places his hand on your lower back while you cross the road at the green light, you're suddenly out of words.

Your skin burns at this spot despite two layers of clothes – not a good sign at all. But the questions that are generated in your head – oh, they're even worse. Why does he do it? To make sure you're matching his pace? Does he want you to be safe? Did Sonia ask him to do so? Do all well-mannered men do it?

Does he like you?

The disgustingly sweet coffee you both ordered at Starbucks helps you get rid of these confusing and unnecessary thoughts. Not for long, unfortunately.

"I can feel my teeth rotting at this moment," Mason moans after taking a sip from his cardboard cup. "But it's so good. Let me taste yours."

You willingly hand him your cup, and he wraps his palm around yours, positioning both of your hands higher – this simple action makes you hold your breath without even realising it.

"Wow, that was easy to get," he laughs and wraps his lips around the straw.

"Drink it already," you roll your eyes. "And I will start praying that you don’t have any contagious diseases."

He makes a face at you, swallowing the coffee like it's fish oil – or something even worse tasting. "You should have warned me – it's terrible. Right now, I'm doing my best not to stick out my tongue in disgust."

"Oh, Mason, you're so brave. Thank you for telling us your story," your hand slides out of his tender grip as you continue to walk. "For the record, mine has one syrup less than yours."

"It's what you call a difference maker."

"Stop it already, I know it's a reference to you on the pitch," you laugh. You genuinely laugh. Mason is effortlessly funny – you knew it already, but today you finally had a chance to experience it to the maximum. And he's witty too – amazing with words, and you really like the way he talks – passionately, but in a calm voice, looking straight in your eyes, following every reaction of yours.

Mason closes the distance between the two of you in one wide step and lowers his head to your level. "By the way, I don't have any diseases," his whisper causes goosebumps all over the skin of your neck and you hum in response. "For the future."

The future and you are divided by a distance, you think, while Mason and you, at least at this moment, are not.

He insisted that you have to sit not across from each other at this fancy restaurant in the heart of London, but next to each other, and you silently agree, not wanting to miss the opportunity to feel him closer. His shoulder brushes yours when he's slicing the steak, and you turn your head to him.

"Did you make the reservation months in advance or did your fame help you sneak in ahead of turn?"

Mason just smiles at you, even though he's not happy that you asked the question while he's chewing and can't respond to your words, and you raise your brow.

"I'm surprised you're not talking with your mouth full," you mock him, and he playfully rolls his eyes.

"I booked it three months in advance," he says as you thankfully nod at the waiter refilling your glass of wine. "Three months ago, I knew that May fourteenth would be marked as our first date on my wall calendar."

"Oh, that infamous Mason's wall calendar with pictures of kittens?" you half expected him to say something along those lines, something bold yet simple, but what you didn't expect was him handing you his fork with a slice of meat on it. The gesture was nice, caring, and... heartwarming?

"Kittens in flower gardens," Mason corrects you as a content smile appears on his features when you take the slice off the fork and into your mouth, chewing slowly.

The food is great, the wine is even better, and your entertainer is one of England's most eligible bachelors. Sometimes life is good.

"It's a shame you can't drink," you whine, holding Mason by his forearms, and he shows his perfect teeth, still not destroyed by the sugary coffee he had, in a wide smile.

"Let's drink when I'm on summer break?" he suggests, his hands rubbing your sides. His chocolate eyes follow yours, and you can't help but get magnetised by his soft gaze. He calls your name softly, feeling that he has to get the needed answer from you. "So, how does it sound?"

"See you on your summer break then," you lightly pat his chest and he laughs.

"What about before? You know I'm all fun even sober."

"Let's see, Mason. It's not like I have a door in my Manchester flat that leads me directly to you."

"It's changeable, though," he says, looking above your head. It feels like he's talking more to himself than to you, but you elaborate anyway.

"Changeable? Mason Mount, are you a constructor of a teleportation machine?" you ask in mock disbelief.

"Maybe so," he plays along, and you laugh. Suddenly, after five glasses of fine wine, everything Mason says sounds even funnier than before.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you mirror his motion, holding onto his waist.

"Thank you for today," your voice is muffled as you mumble into his beige bomber jacket – which smells just so amazing, enveloping you in an aroma cloud. "I really liked it."

"So did I," Mason says, and you're thankful he doesn't reject your clingiest side, never breaking the hug you dragged him into in the first place. "Pinky promise we will go out more?"

"Sure, but I'm done for today," you say. "It's a good thing you didn't drink, though – at least I have you as my personal driver back home."

"Oh, look at you," he imitates an adoring voice. "Making me feel so needed and desired."

"In high demand, yep," you confirm. "Promise me I'm your favorite passenger."

You can feel Mason pulling back from the hug so he can raise his pinky, and you shove off his hand with a smile. The dark-haired man smiles back at you, so sweet and tender – it makes your poor heart beat a hundred times faster.

"Oh my god," Sonia squeezes you in a hug as soon as you get to her apartment. "You look so happy! And... Wait a second, are you drunk?"

"Not drunk, just a little tipsy, that's all, but-"

You tell her everything, trying not to sound too excited, and Sonia, being the best friend ever, asks for every possible and impossible detail. Seizing the opportunity, you ask the same question you asked Mason in the restaurant.

"Does it matter?" Sonia asks in return. "Other things are way more important!"

"No, they're not. What if the only reason we ended up in this restaurant was that he was dumped by someone? Or did he dump someone? And here I am, just a backup plan."

"Oh, shit," Sonia breathes out, and you lift your head, your fingers stopping their random patterns on the soft material of the cushion. Well, you’re anxious now. "You're already thinking about it, aren’t you?"

You roll your eyes as she laughs, but when you stay silent, she goes on. "I’m pretty sure he’s famous and rich enough to get a reservation in four hours max. You had a wonderful evening – all kudos to me – so don’t spoil the aftertaste with your thoughts!"

"Yeah, my thoughts… Completely unnecessary as always," you laugh, raising your hands in defeat.

It was a wonderful evening, and you even want to jokingly think that this evening proves that all "bros before hoes" manifestos can be thrown out of the window, but, in reality, you can’t. Because Mason, as you thought before, is closer to becoming your bro than anything else. But at the end of the day, the distance will divide Mason and you again. You and your long-distance friend.