#yotes down under

[reavenedges-lies]

Logan Cooley (1) Preseason & Global Series AUS

@paintingtheice @desertpups

[desertpups]

AHHH COOLEY!!!!!!! 4-1

lol he's so happy on the bench

[annieqattheperipheral]

hockey fans walking into the melbourne arena in jerseys of any and all 32 teams not just yotes/kings🥹🫶 its the united colours of benetton of hockey

[true-blue-sonic]

I think TSR played a big part in the "crybaby that wouldn't hurt a fly" perception of Silver. Silver in that game can't even comprehend other people's aggression. I think that combined with how meek and even fearful he's often drawn in IDW creates that impression of him(he cowers in fear at Blaze's flames and nervously holds her in Victory Garden and that isn't the only instance of him being frightened in that series)

About TSR, I definitely agree. Though, I looked into it more before to see if Silver would meekly let Lanolin scold him without talking back in IDW issue 63, and Silver actually does have good scenes in the English localisation! For example, he is shown at least twice to be right on Eggman's tail about what he is doing with Dodon Pa and the Ultimate Energy Engine, and even talks to Eggman once without immediately letting himself be shot down when Eggman insults him.

....But then the localisation put in that fucking Trash Talk Scene and UGH. I looked at the Japanese version, and especially Sonic is just so much more easier to bear there. The thing is, the essence of what the localisation seemed to want to convey in their conversation is absolutely there. Sonic is a bit teasing and competitive, Silver is somewhat awkward and cannot really convey what is bothering him. But Japanese!Sonic, you know, tells Silver multiple times to not worry. That they're friends who haven't seen each other in a while and that he thus would like to race with Silver because he enjoys it. He does joke a bit with Silver's worries, but when Silver expresses frustration he backtracks and goes right back to encouragement once more. None of that dumb "I'm gonna badly beat youuuuu" "I'm gonna make you look sillyyyyyy get your head in the gameeeee" "I'm gonna feed my car to youuuuu", and so on. That's not expressing happiness at being able to race with a friend who hasn't been around in a while, that's just being a smug jerk waving your self-confidence into someone's face who clearly is not interested. And then you continue ragging him on while he tries to talk about his worries, which you keep shooting down in favour of your bragging. Bah. One of English-TSR!Sonic's worst moments, imo. Not helped by Silver's altogether awful responses, like "I'm not hungry, but thanks", and not to mention the "I'm so gonna own you!" "Okay." from the racing start. Like Silv, bruh, you're constantly sneering at and mocking other racers on the track in multiple games, show some bite??? And, as seems to be happening with most of Silver's mischaracterisation by fandom, this one event gets cherrypicked to show that he's just Complete UwU Baby Who Cannot Trash Talk So Cute So Cinnamon Roll If You Look At Him Funny He'll Drown In His Own Tears.

....Yeah. Sigh. Even worse because he's got multiple good moments otherwise.

Anyway, onwards to my other current Silver-related dislike in the Sonic franchise, namely IDW! Because he can indeed be drawn strangely there, and definitely cowering like you said in your ask. Though, a Silver with huge starry eyes and shit when things go right for the heroes for a change is HELLA ooc as well. Give Tangle her stripes and tail back please :/

In my mind, Tangle was similarly starry-eyed in issue 9 as Silver in issue 26, but Silver is WORSE there. In what world is Silver more of a Manic Pixie Dream Genki Girl than Tangle???

And the annoying thing is that also in IDW he's got, in my opinion, great moments! The battle with Zomom in #28 is a no-nonsense, well-coordinated fight between Silver and Whisper wherein Silver can convey what he believes in when he gets jeered at, while showing off some slick psychic moves. In issue 30, Silver gets tons of moments to shine: he's a massive help in Sonic's attempt to reach the final Emerald with Metal Sonic on multiple fronts (carrying the Emeralds, using his powers to block the blows from that gigantic Zavok while not dropping them, getting to Sonic at the very last second so he can turn Super in time, etc.). And even if the Super battle against the gigantic Zavok goes by in mere seconds (which the comic lampshades itself), the scene wherein Sonic and Silver remove the Metal Virus from the world with Silver's PK is one I quite like as well. It shows further good coordination between Sonic and Silver, nobody is being a smug jerk, they know what they should do to save the world and do it smoothly. So also in IDW there are definitely moments to be found where Silver is just his IC self, where I would even go so far as to say that for a good 80% or so in issue 63 he is too.

...But, of course, people only look at the moments wherein he's Being Baby to support the fact that He Is Baby, so there's not a lot of people paying attention to those issues in favour of others that have him far more flanderised and dumb. For example, I quite like Victory Garden because I like the idea Silver would start a garden and seeing Blaze and Silver interact, but it doesn't give much respect for his powers (he can't even carry a bunch of equipment at once, or not slap himself right in the face with it?), throws in an obligatory It's No Use reference because Evan wrote this*, and adds some silly faces and poses here and there on him as well. And there you have it: uwu baby Silver! Not to mention the absolutely awful way Sonic treated him in issue 8, where I'd say the TSR conversation was actually bearable compared to that. Plus the fact Silver is just regularly drawn all throughout the comic as wide-eyed cute boyo in all sorts of goofy kid poses, to the point where Evan actually toned down some of her sketches for #8. (I believe there is a second example when he and Sonic first see Whisper, but Tumblr's search function is shit as always.) So yeah, both the art of IDW and the way Silver is written there tends to be on the meh side in my opinion and furthermore makes him a nice punching bag for everyone else, sigh, and those are the exact moments other fans seem to focus on for their idea of what Silver acts like in favour of actual more IC moments.

I do not know enough about what appears to be one of the root causes of this mischaracterisation of Silver: namely Archie, the stories of the various issues Silver was in, and the fandom's general mindset at the time. But I know enough to realise that Silver was just written plain awfully there, and it bothers me that Silver The Punching Bag (both by comic characters and writers alike, really) from that comic just seems to have gotten carried right over into IDW next. And now we indeed have fans see Silver as a massive cry-baby with half a braincell who won't be able to walk two steps without perishing from something, which is fine if that is how you want to portray him for your fanwork! But it is not what an IC Silver is like, yet especially the comics portray him like that too. I will readily say that Silver seems tough to get down because he's gotten a very 'dual' personality between rude determinist and friendly world-admirer, but the fandom, comic writers, and localisers alike focus far too heavily on that latter part and twist him into someone he simply is not. And since I like seeing both parts of that personality come into play and I do not like Silver being drawn like Tangle (wide-eyed, goofy, Silly Poses Of Enthusiasm) while displaying an altogether awfully unfitting personality (dumb, overly innocent with a complete lack of rudeness or smugness, constantly being set up to be mocked by other characters), I do not like how this characterisation is what has become so pervasive in the fandom's mindset, either.

[awakentrashpanda]

Smiling Critters incorrect quotes

Dogday: What is the code etomologists use for "I stepped on it, I'm so sorry, it was dark out and the specimen was very small?"

Bubba Bubbaphant: "Impromptu dissection was performed under less-than-optimal lighting conditions."

Catnap: "Impromptu dissection" is an alarming phrase in any context and I thank you for it.

KickinChickin: What’s biologist for "the little f⭐️cker BIT me and I yote it into the undergrowth on reflex?"

Bubba Bubbaphant: "The specimen was removed from the study pool due to abnormal interaction responses."

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hoppy Hopscotch: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river. 
KickinChickin: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Hoppy Hopscotch: Nothing in life is free. 
Bobby Bearhug: Love is free. 
Bubba Bubbaphant: Knowledge is free. 
Craftycorn: Friendship is free. 
Dogday: Self-respect is free. 
KickinChickin: Everything's free if you don't pay for it. 
The Squad: ... 
PickyPiggy: Kickin, that's illegal- 
Hoppy Hopscotch: No, let him finish!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Bubba Bubbaphant: Are you tall enough to play basketball though? 
Hoppy Hopscotch: Are you calling me short? 
Bubba Bubbaphant: I'm calling you vertically challenged.

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

KickinChickin: You have Crayons? 
Craftycorn: Yes, I have— 
KickinChickin: You're— how old are you? 
Craftycorn (in tears): YES I AM AN ADULT AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.

🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨

PickyPiggy: *standing at the top of the stairs* What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase? 
Catnap: I accidentally fell down. 
Bubba Bubbaphant: CATNAP PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay HIS part of our rent! 
Dogday: Catnap bet me fifty bucks that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than they did falling down it, so I slide down the banister to get my money. 
KickinChickin: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Dogday.

💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡

Dogday: I love you. 
Catnap: How many people have you said that to? 
Dogday: Everyone. 
Catnap: What? 
Dogday: I told everyone that I love you.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Craftycorn: Why does Picky always do the laundry so loudly? 
Bobby Bearhug: So everyone knows that no one helps her out in the house. 
PickyPiggy, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

PickyPiggy: So Hunny-bunny, how did your first time cooking dinner go? 
Hoppy Hopscotch: Pretty good if I do say so myself. 
PickyPiggy: Oo! Okay, what are we having? 
Hoppy Hopscotch: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato. 
PickyPiggy: A whole potato? 
Hoppy Hopscotch: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches! 
PickyPiggy: These just look like big slabs of black. 
Hoppy Hopscotch: Because that's what they are! 
Hoppy Hopscotch: And then for desert, we have chocolate. 
PickyPiggy: These are just chocolate chips? 
Hoppy Hopscotch: They sure are! 
Hoppy Hopscotch: And then for drinks, we have toast! 
Hoppy Hopscotch: *lifts up a glass of blended toast* Bon appetite!

🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻

KickinChickin: I have a plan.

PickyPiggy: Good! As long as we aren’t breaking the law again, I’m open to hearing it.

KickinChickin: …

PickyPiggy: …

KickinChickin: I no longer have a plan.

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

PickyPiggy: why can’t any of y’all ever come up with a plan that doesn’t involve breaking the law?

Bubba Bubbaphant (awkwardly looking over at KickinChickin and Hoppy Hopscotch): Picky…You do realize that three of us have been to prison before, right?

🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤

KickinChickin: Have I ever told you that I love you like the mom I never had? 
PickyPiggy: For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am! 
KickinChickin: Mean.

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

Hoppy Hopscotch: I'm sorry. Please talk to me. 
PickyPiggy: 
Hoppy Hopscotch: Hello? World's most amazing person?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that's too good for this world, too pure? 
PickyPiggy: Hmf! 'Sorry' ain’t never gonna bring back my f🍎cking M&Ms.

🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄

Bubba Bubbaphant: What do we think of Dogday? 
*pause* 
Hoppy Hopscotch: *shrugs* Nice pal. 
Bobby Bearhug: I think he’s gay.

🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘

KickinChickin: That was so hot, Bubba. 
Bubba Bubbaphant: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets. 
KickinChickin: I'm so in love with you.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

KickinChickin: Now, if I may speak for good-looking people everywhere... 
Catnap: Only as their rodeo clown.

🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷

[rayshippouuchiha]

For the YEET AU-

Bear with me now imma bout to take you on a ✨trip✨

So, the ship is Izuku/Shinsou right. But think about them first meeting.

Okay so Aizawa clearly set the standard for Izuku and his crushes. Now he has like a little check list for people that he forms a crush on ya know. 1) the person needs to be able to yeet him, 2) the person needs the dead inside, I hate life stare and 3) murder vibes

Previously, the people that potentially lined up were Uraraka and Todoroki.

Uraraka had the ability to give him distance with the yeet. She could send him miles🫡. Her murder vibes were on point as well! But she didn’t have the dead inside stare so she was out.

Todoroki had the dead inside stare and the murder vibes down pat, no practice needed. His ability and willingness to yote tho left much to be desired so he was out too.

Now Shinsou! Shinsou pops up at the sports festival with the under eye bags-murder vibes-I hate everyone in this room, and Izuku is immediately ✨awake and alert✨. No yeeting to be seen but Izuku is willing to teach the skill. After all Aizawa also did not know to yeet him at first either.

So while time goes by and things happen Izuku keeps the pretty purple haired murder boy in the back of his mind.

And then it happens! The joint class exercise!! Shinsou will be joining them!!! And he is using a capture weapon!!!! With the ability to yeet!!!!!

Izuku is enamored. Infatuated. Besotted!

He approaches Shinsou from behind, going to congratulate him, tell him he knew Shinsou could do it, wish him luck. He puts a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder about to open his mouth…and suddenly he is air born. Although the surprise of suddenly being yoted took him a second, Izuku could feel nothing but smug satisfaction. Shinsou was perfect!

Shinsou on the ground trying to explain to an exasperated Aizawa with his face in his hands: I didn’t mean to yeet him! My hands just did it!! It was INSTINCT!!! IT JUST HAPPENED!!!!

Oh oh this is perfect. Shinsou has no idea what he's just accidentally gotten himself into, Aizawa is dreading whatever bullshit chaos the gremlin is about to unleash, and Izuku is THRILLED

[beechersnope]

is this anything

***

They’d left the water in the freezer too long. It comes out as something in-between; Oscar catches herself staring at the bottle in Carlos’s hands as he flips it back and forth, shaking the icy slush inside with a quick jerk of his fingers.

It had taken some getting used to—using his name. For a while after he’d come into their territory, everyone in the pack had just called him The Wolf. It’s not natural, some had said. It’s not right. Wolves should keep to their own kind.

Three full moons had passed since then, and not once had Oscar seen Carlos shed his skin.

In that time, spring has come and gone. Summer is nearly upon them, and with it, the first blue moon in nearly three years. The last time Oscar had sat out here on the deck of her family’s back porch like this, the entire pack gathered in anticipation, she’d been eight months shy of nineteen, young enough still to feel a pang of jealousy as she watched the others lope out into the darkness, wishing it was her turn.

Things have changed in the years since. Oscar doesn’t find the idea of being chased down by some uppity pup nearly as romantic as she did when she was a teenager. Not that there’s much hope of being anyone’s first pick—not anymore. She reaches a hand up towards the back of her neck before becoming aware of the motion. Stiffly, she jerks her hand back down to her lap and focuses instead on the mesmerizing swish of the ice in Carlos’s water bottle.

It takes him so long to take a swig of the damn thing that Oscar’s hands start to cramp where they’ve formed fists against her thighs without permission. She uncurls them slowly as she watches him swallow, beads of condensation slicking up under his fingers as beads of sweat make shimmering tracks down his throat.

“You know you can’t call dibs.” Lando is smirking when Oscar tears her gaze away from Carlos to face her friend.

“I’m not interested,” Oscar replies dully.

She flexes her fingers a few more times, nostrils flared as she takes in the scents around her. The whole pack is here, even the city yotes who think they’re too good to come home during equinox and solstice. She catches something salty and rich when the wind turns; it makes her jaw ache. She doesn’t turn to face it.

In some ways, May in the desert is even harsher than July. It hasn’t rained since February and won’t again for months yet. The wind is relentless. It howls in a shrill mimicry of Oscar’s birthright through the vents in the ranch house, pulling the dust and the flies and the locusts in with it. It makes her restless. She used to run during the spring storms sometimes, despite the wind, despite the dust. But that was before.

“Everyone’s interested,” Lando shoots back.

“Not like that,” Oscar points out.

Lando doesn’t respond. Oscar’s right.

Oscar still isn’t even sure why her mother is letting Carlos run at all. The whole wolf thing aside—and it is very much a Thing—Carlos is a good ten years older than the other late bloomers even, the ones who had opted to wait until the odds were in their favor. You only get one chance at the Chase.

Carlos had apparently assured Oscar’s mother that he’d never participated in one with his old pack back in Texas, but Oscar isn’t convinced. He’s almost thirty-four. Oscar had done the math in her head nearly a month ago. Carlos’s first blue moon was almost fifteen years ago, on the eve of his nineteenth birthday. Most pack leaders tended to force the issue by the third. Abstention is never a viable option.

Oscar has wisely opted to run this time around despite her general disinterest in a positive outcome. For her, this is as good as the odds would get; there are far more unmatched females than males, and Oscar is fast. When they were kids, the others had always made fun of her in her shifted form, barely bigger than a jackrabbit. They won’t be laughing when she outpaces them all tonight.

“Nervous?” Logan asks, his shadow briefly obscuring the sun as he wanders over from the water coolers to hover in front of where Oscar and Lando are sitting with their legs crossed on the floor. He has a half-empty water bottle crumpled in one fist. Two others are clutched by the caps between his knuckles, both full up. He extends them to Oscar and Lando in turn, and they both accept wordlessly. Technically, Logan isn’t supposed to be on their side, but Oscar’s mother isn’t as much of a stickler for rules as other alphas. He’ll get away with it as long as he doesn’t sit down.

Oscar shakes her head just as Lando lets out a derisive snort.

Logan grins. “Yeah, me too,” he says with a wink before wandering back onto the boys’ side. He parks himself noticeably closer to Carlos than any of the others, probably trying to show off. He’s one of the late bloomers, a year older than Oscar, maybe intent on Chasing her tonight despite everything—and if things had been any different, if Oscar had still been eighteen—she would probably have let him catch her.

“I wish this part didn’t take so long,” Oscar mutters under her breath. The preparations always go on for ages. She knows the waiting is part of it, that she should be sizing up her counterparts, memorizing their scents, planning a potential route to evade any unwanted suitors. But that’s just the thing. They’re all unwanted. All of this, the bonfire, the blessing, the ceremony, the Chase itself—it’s all a pointless ritual that Oscar has no interest in participating in.

Thirteen moons from now, Oscar plans to be unmatched and unmated, free to seek out a potential bond on her own terms, whenever it feels right. Even if it never feels right, she thinks with a hot surge of righteous anger.

Without warning or cause, Carlos glances up, nostrils flaring, his eyes connecting with Oscar’s from across the back deck with a deep, intense stare. The expected, submissive thing to do would be to look away, so Oscar holds his gaze as if intending to meet a rival alpha’s challenge, daring Carlos to break eye contact first.

But neither have a chance to settle the score. Finally, the sun begins to set over the dark ridge of the Funeral Mountains. And the howling begins.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Soooo how did those “negotiations” go for diplomat reader 😉 (I’m begging for more cato and Titus plz give us that blueberry sandwich!)

Author’s Note: One Blueberry Diplomat Sandwich coming right up~ I hope that you enjoy the fic :D First. Latest. This is NSFW, so 18+ only readers!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: smut, polyship, polyandry, mild exhibitionism, ask me to tag if there's something that bothers you

Summary: You show off one of the sets of armor you've been gifted to your lovers. Both of them have very enthusiastic responses.

You pause for a moment to do another couple of cooling down stretches, humming to yourself contentedly before noticing that the rest of the small group of mortal diplomats had paused in their stretches and were looking at the door to the training room the group you were currently in had been brought to, in order to go through the physical fitness and basic self defense qualifications that were required of the diplomatic corps under the Lord Regent. 

You look over and smile as you see Cato lingering in the doorway, watching you move, his expression serious and neutral, though his eyes were focused intensely on each movement you made. 

You were wearing a two-piece black undersuit - though you’d taken off the long-sleeved top, revealing your sports bra to preserve your modesty in this space, and had tied the shirt around your waist. Part of the requalifications included being able to successfully get in and out of various kinds of protective armor, as well as move about inside of said armors without throwing off one’s normal rhythms and movements. 

You did enjoy going through the self-defense classes, even though your preferred weapon was either the word you wielded or the stylus you used to write with, you were familiar with hand-to-hand combat as well as a number of widely available small-arms. Mostly Laspistols and their variants as well as knives and daggers, but you’d been trained with a rapier since you could walk, along with dance and elocution lessons.

“Did you need something, captain Sicarius?” The self defense instructor - a semi-retired training sergeant of the Astra Militarum - asked curiously. 

“I… Uh… Uhm.” Cato responds, gaze still focused entirely on you. He seemed to be struggling to find his words, and you could see the way his face was warming to a very entertaining shade of red. 

You cheerfully make your way over to him, putting a subtle sway in your hips as a sly grin appears on your face “Grynx got your tongue, captain~?”

“WHy… You are… What?” Cato manages out.

You frown a little - is he perhaps concussed? You hadn’t expected him to be so wholly startled at your state of dress. He’s seen you in significantly less than what you’re wearing currently. Part of you very much wants to continue to tease the clearly flustered Ultramarine captain, but the rest of you is starting to get genuinely concerned. You send a quick text to Titus [Cato’s acting stranger than normal. Did he get sent head-first through a reinforced wall?]

You get a response a couple of seconds later [Not unless he got yote through a barrier in the ten minutes it’s been since I’ve last seen him. Where are the two of you?] Titus sent.

[In the training room where the diplomatic requals are being held. He’s just… Lurking in the doorway. He’s starting to unnerve the others a little.] You send, as it’s true. The rest of the mortal diplomats up for requalifications have only recently been transferred to Maccrage’s Honor and are still very much unused to interacting directly with any Astartes - much less one with as storied a history as one Captain Cato Sicarius.

[Ahhh. Quick question, love. What are you wearing?] Titus asks, the question feeling a little confusing and out of place.

[Half a black flightsuit, why?] You send back honestly. [I got too warm in the full suit, while I was sparring with some of my fellow diplomats, so I took the top off. I do have something covering my breasts, of course.]

Titus didn’t respond to your text, worried you a little. Especially as the self defense instructor slowly moved towards Cato, having grabbed one of the training staves, and looked like they were about to whack the Ultramarine with it.

Just before Cato was about to be poked by the end of a long, sturdy stick, Titus appeared, stopping dead in his tracks as he looked you up and down. You could see his mind running some sort of calculations very quickly in his head, although what he was thinking about, you could only begin to guess. He turns and looks at the Defensive instructor, asking “Has class concluded for the day?”

“Yes, and these particular diplomats have qualified to test out of the lessons for the next month, particularly her.” The instructor answered, gesturing to where you were standing.

“Fantastic. If you don’t mind, Captain Sicarius and I would like to borrow you, lady diplomat. To go over some practical concerns we have over your security detail during the next planet-side negotiations, due to some new intel we’ve recently been updated with.” Titus responds, taking three strides over and scooping you up, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back, as he leaned your weight against his armored chest “Unless you have something more urgent to tend to, my lady?”

A small frown appeared on your face as you shift a little, comfortable in Titus’ hold “Nothing that is more important than ensuring the compliance of the Uvranis system. I’m ready to talk to you both about it. I don’t have my pad on me to take notes, but I imagine one or both of you have something for me to write notes on.”

“That we do, my lady.” Titus hummed, turning and leaving the room, moving at a quick but unworried pace. 

He’d carried you perhaps four steps down the hallway before Cato caught up with you and him, swiping you out of the lieutenant’s arms and pressing you up against the nearest wall, kissing you hard on the lips.

You gasp in surprise into the kiss, but respond in kind, melting into his touch, equal parts delighted and confused.

The sound Titus made at Cato’s second question was concerning. A mixture of a groan and a whine as he presses in close, turning your face away from Cato’s and kissing you back, nipping your lower lip “Oh… Throne, please?”

Cato pulls away as your lungs begin to burn for air, just far enough to speak, his lips brushing against yours “You look. So fucking sexy in this. Have you worn armor before? Will you wear armor for us?”

“I… Yes, I’ve worn armor before. Either reinforced grox-hide leather armor incorporated into the outfit I’m wearing for the event as subtle protection against most non-electrified or chain-blades, or the occasional ringed mail, on certain feral and feudal worlds, as part of negotiations.” You answer honestly, startled by the fervor the both of them are showing. “The leather armor is quicker to get on and off, but I do have both of them properly stored in my quarters. They’re further in the back of my closet than most of my clo- woah!”

You squeak as Cato pulls you off of the wall and begins sprinting down the hallway, having slung you over one shoulder, a broad, warm hand keeping you steady ,the other shoving Titus as the other Ultramarine lunged to grab you out of his hands. “Woah! Hey! Loves?”

“You look incredible in the under-armor… I just… Please wear at least one of them for us?” Titus pleaded as he chased Cato through Maccrage’s Honor - the second captain dodging his continued attempts to take you from him.

Other Ultramarines and the occasional serf flatten themselves along the wall, giving you amused expressions as Cato barrels towards your room at speed. This is far from the first time they’ve done this. You’re just grateful these sorts of antics only happen on Maccrage’s Honor, or when you and your lovers are in an Ultramarine owned base, on the occasions that’s happened. “I… Alright.” You didn’t expect them to have such a strong reaction to you potentially being in armor, but you were happy to indulge them.

~

It did not take long for Cato and Titus to bring you to your quarters. Cato impatiently set you down in front of your large walk in closet, and both of them watched you intently as you used your ident-scan in order to get into your closet (it was important to have security on it - not just because there were valuables in there, but there were ways of poisoning someone’s clothes, or slipping in any number of small listening devices - among other things - if your clothes and accessories weren’t properly stored and protected.

Not that they weren’t checked by loyal tech priests regularly, due to your station, but you’d rather be cautious than something unfortunate happening. “Wait out here, you two. I want to surprise you with which set of armor I’m going to wear first.” You instructed them “Why don’t you two get comfortable while I change?”

Cato huffed, pouting at you a little “And what if we wanted to help you into the armor?”

You arch an eyebrow at him. Considering the vehemence the both of them had reacted - “Can either of you honestly say that you’d be able to wait until I’m in the armor to try and get it off?”

“... She’s got a point.” Titus sighed, a dreamy expression appearing on his face, gaze flicking between you and Cato.

Cato harrumphed and sat down at the edge of your bed nearest your closet. “Very well. We shall wait here, per your request. If you need assistance…”

“I’ll call, if I do.” You hum, smiling warmly at both of your lovers, before indulging in kissing them both, before heading back into your walk in closet.

It did not take long for you to find the four sets of armor you’d been gifted over the years. You went with the dyed blue brigandine armored dress, humming to yourself softly as you put on the under shirt you’d tied earlier around your waist. The chest and thigh piece of the brigandine armored dress was sleeveless and had clasps running down the back of the armor - which you could reach with a little bit of stretching, as the lower portion split in the front, covering you to your mid-thighs. You reach for the armored leg and arm pieces, swiftly attaching the correct part of your body, ensuring that the straps were synched down correctly.

The last thing you put on were the leather boots that accompanied this set of armor. You internally debated on grabbing one of your weapons - perhaps your favorite rapier? But you weren’t exactly in the mood to try and spar one of your giant lovers at the moment, so perhaps later. Both were excellent and highly skilled swordsmen, and you’d wanted to clash blades with them occasionally, but hadn’t quite been able to ask yet. 

You pause, catching sight of yourself in the mirrors attached to your closet doors before going back and grabbing several sturdy pins that doubled as emergency weapons in a pinch, tying up your hair out of your face, the way you would when anticipating a potential battle, or when going to spar as loose hair was begging for trouble.

You grin at yourself in the mirror, hoping that Cato and Titus would like the way you looked in the armor - you certainly felt fierce. You take in a couple of steadying breaths and confidently walk out of the walk-in closet, throwing the doors open wide, looking up challengingly at the both of them and asked, posing a little for the both of them “What do you think?”

Titus wasn’t much better, having been leaning against a nearby wall and flailed with a surprising lack of grace, falling to the ground in a loud crash of ceramite on metal as he stared up at you, awe and lust on his face. “You… You look amazing!”

Cato swore softly and nearly fell over as he attempted to stand up from where he’d been sitting on your bed. “Fuck!”

You smile warmly as you walk over to Titus, offering a hand to help him up “Thank you, although I honestly didn’t expect both of you to react so much to me in armor.” Given how important their armor was to them… And to their fellow Ultramarines, perhaps you shouldn’t have been so surprised. For most baseline humans, the only images they had of Astartes were them fully armored. It was incredibly rare to see astartes out of armor unless one was deeply trusted and in constant contact with them, as you are.

Titus took your hand and stood up, before sweeping you off of your feet and kissing you deeply on the lips, playfully nipping on your lower lip before purring into your ear “How could we not, when you look like a goddess of battle?”

Cato was suddenly right next to Titus, using two of his fingers to gently turn your face to him, and kissed you deeply, before you could try and respond to Titus’ goddess comment. He also swiped you from Titus’ arms  in the same movement, carrying you over to bed, setting you on it. “You look… Titus is right.” one of his hands slid under your armored skirt, lightly squeezing your upper thigh, tracing a line up to your lower lips. 

You groan in pleasure and grind down on Cato’s fingers, a needy “Please, touch me more!” Leaving you. 

“As you wish, our radiant lady.” Titus purred, joining you and Cato on the bed, giving you another heady kiss. 

Cato hummed “Should we remove your armor? Or keep it on, as we worship you? You went to all the effort of putting it on…” You can hear the devious smirk on his face, the warmth of his breath as he kisses and nips his way up your inner thighs, his tongue joining the two fingers he’s slid inside of your wet cunt.

A pleased keen leaves you as you grind down on Cato’s face, your legs wrapping around his head in order to keep him in place “I… It’d take time to get me out of this…”

“Mm,  you’ll find that we are able to get you out of armor quickly, if that is what you wish.” Titus hums, his hands having loosened the straps of your chest piece in order to reach down the gap to gently squeeze one of your breasts, teasing the dusky nub, prompting you to shiver in pleasure and anticipation.

Cato hums in agreement, and the vibrations through your core cause your toes to curl at the stimulation. 

“I- ah! - Alright!” You cry out, shivering in pleasure, your legs pressing Cato closer to your core.

Titus grins, starting to undo the straps completely when both Cato’s and Titus’ voxes go off at the same time. A moment later, your vox chimes from where Titus had placed it on your bedside table. You look up at Titus, then down to Cato and sigh. “Titus… GIve me my vox please.”

Titus sighs and Cato, the merciless bastard, starts rubbing little circles into your clit with one of his fingers, still kissing and moving hush tongue in and out of your core, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “Are you sure?”

“It’s.. AH! Probably something - ngh - important!” You manage out, trying and failing to glare at Titus, your legs still wrapped around Cato’s head.

“Very well.” Titus responded, handing you your vox, before returning to getting you out of your armor, kissing and nipping every bit of newly exposed skin.

You fumble with the communicator under the expert attentions of two amorous Ultramarines, making sure that it was audio-only on your side. It was a message from another member of the diplomatic team, having marked the request for communication as urgent. “Yes, I’m here. What’s going on?” You manage out, hoping that your voice doesn’t sound as breathy to them as it did to you.

Titus has undone the last of the straps of your armored dress, pulling it off of your body as Cato continues to drive you mad with his tongue and fingers buried deep inside your core.

“The situation in the Ulvanis system has changed drastically. They are under siege by Chaos forces and are begging for aid.” The other diplomat explained “The Lord Regent, in his infinite wisdom has arranged for Imperial Aid to be able to chase off those wretched traitors, but that also means that we should probably change our method of approach with the local leadership, once we arrive.”

“Why… Would we need to change approaches?” You ask, keeping your voice as even and calm as you could. “Just because they are given aid, doesn’t necessarily mean that they will be easier to convince to rejoin the greater imperium.”

Which was Difficult as Titus was currently kissing and biting where your neck and your shoulder joined together, intent on leaving a dark love bite that you’d need to cover up later.

Cato, not to be outdone by his second in command, was doing his level best to get you to cum, his tongue pressing in and out of you faster as his finger continues to rub toe-curling circles into your clit. You can feel the oncoming orgasm by the curling in your body, the way you feel your cunt throb in aching pleasure.

“But!” The other diplomat protested “They should be! Given that it is only the strength lent to them by the Imperium that will allow them to stay free of Chaos’ yoke!”

“And the… People of the Uvranis sector are… Known for being quite… Prideful. The fact that they asked for help at all… Means that-” you briefly mute the call and let out a high, pleasured moan, arching into Cato as you clutch desperately onto the bed with the hand not holding onto vox, desperately trying not to cum just yet. Once you’re sure you have command over your voice, you unmute yourself again “-that the situation is likely quite dire. They may be more stubborn, not less. For their possible perceived shame of needing help in the first place.”

“Oh… I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll keep researching what is recored about their peoples and past reactions. Thank you for pointing that out.” The other diplomat responded.

“Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?” You asked, hoping that your voice wasn’t as shaky over voice as it sounded to your ears.

Titus was gleefully teasing your breasts and nipples, pressing kisses to your face and neck, leaving more little love bites everywhere he kissed you, finding your sensitive places and teasing them.

Cato was still expertly eating you out, tongue and fingers continuing to tease your cunt and clit. He was humming, quietly enough so that the Vox wouldn’t pick it up, but the extra vibrations were rapidly stripping you of the ability to keep from cumming. 

“That’s all. Should I schedule a meeting with the full team about this?” They ask.

“Everyone’s going through the combat re… Requalifications today, and will probably be too worn out to be effective. Maybe tomorrow or the next day?” You suggest. It would take several more weeks of travel to get to the contested sector, so it wasn’t as if the meeting had to happen as soon as possible. Thankfully, as you’re not sure you’d be able to walk to the meeting room under your own power.

“Ah, that’s right. I’ve got to get mine done. Have you done yours yet?” The other diplomat asked curiously.

“I have. As long as you’ve kept to the mandatory fitness levels, you should be fine. I’ve got to go.” You respond, ending the call before they could say anything else, You shudder and gasp a couple of moments later in the evil, terrible, talented hands of your lovers as you cum less than a second later “FUCK! Titus! Cato! Ah…”

“Yes?” Cato purrs, his breath warm over your core, his lips brushing against you as he speaks. 

“Did you need something?” Titus drawls, an evil grin on his face as he gives you another nipping kiss to your neck.

“You’re both… So… Augh! Hah… Impossible.” You half grumble, the high activity from earlier in the day - and the intense orgasm courtesy of your lovers having worn you out.

“We aim to please.” Titus hums, kissing you on the lips.

You feel Cato nod before nuzzling your thighs. “Tired?” He asks, a teasing tone in his voice.

“You two may be used to combat training all day long, but I’m not, so  yes. Yes I am.” You sigh, uncrossing your legs and tapping Cato twice on one side with one of your feet.

He silently responds by standing up and joining you and Titus on the bed properly, Cato licks his fingers clean of your slick before resting his dry hand on one of your knees as your legs come to rest across his lap.

“Then rest, love. You are always safe with us.” Titus promises, giving you a gentle kiss on the lips.

You hum back in response before saying, as your eyes close “I know… I love you both, so much.”

“And we love you too, our lady.” You hear them both murmur at the same time as sleep takes you under.

[2hoothoots]

Congrats on the sucessful enstabbening! Bet you're glad to get all that off your chest (heh).

I assume you can't do too much huge art stuff while waiting to heal up, but I would love to hear about your headcanons for the FSAU cast - be they favourites or just ones that makes you smile. How much of a menace was Raz for Lil and Doges when he went under the knife?

Take care - make sure you stretch appropriately and don't shrimp too hard over the keyboard while waiting to be freed from excercise-jail 💜🖤🤍

at this point i've had the "off your chest" joke four times. and it's just as funny every time lmao

he sure did!

he basically yote himself onto the operating table as soon as he turned 18, haha. he was an absolute nightmare during the recovery, though. it was at the time when Lili took a few years out from the psychonauts to go to college, and he kept calling her like "hey do you think it's okay if i go for a run as long as i don't move my arms too much. i was thinking i could hold them behind me like naruto" "raz you had surgery four days ago"

actually, since you asked about general headcanons, more rambling about that time of their lives under the cut!:

i've talked a little before about how Raz and Lili had a pretty tumultuous relationship during their teens, haha. i think around 17/18, things start to simmer down between them. they're still really close, but stuff's not as volatile, and they come to the decision that they want to take a break for a while. no matter how good friends they are, it can be kind of stifling to still be dating the same person you were when you were ten, y'know?

and like i said, this was also when Lili took a break from the Psychonauts. for me, one of the central anxieties of her character is figuring out who she wants to be outside of the Zanotto family's legacy and the expectations of everyone else. we see in PN1 she has kind of a skeptical view of the Psychonauts as a whole - but at the same time, it's the only world she's ever known. she's been training at the Motherlobe since she was a baby. she's spent her whole life immersed in this world, and i think she has a lot of big questions to ask herself as she enters adulthood: who am I? who do I really want to be?

so she takes a break to go study! i haven't decided exactly what, but i think she does something like a major in biological sciences and a minor in pharmaceuticals. she has a great time, and taking that time out ends up being what she needs to realise that actually she does want to stick with the Psychonauts. she and Raz go on their first mission together, things just click, and the rest is history hahaha

[reavenedges-lies]

(@paintingtheice)

[desertpups]

oh naur

[19871997]

not gonna lie that message about leon and dylan following each other immediately gave me vibes/thoughts of cmd being unattainable for both of them romantically (connors not interested in leon/not interested in men, etc) but being able to find comfort in each other, whether platonically or romantically. like its giving friends out of circumstance and understanding

something something whenever the oilers play the yotes (rip) at home during the 16-17 season (connor's freshman captaincy season, connor and leon were on a line and tearing it up, the oilers' season is doing far far better than it was in 15-16, cannot personally remember if connor even played in the first home game against arizona in his rookie season #collarbonemcbroken) connor leon and dylan all go out for dinner together and dylan's sitting across from connor and leon in the booth and he can see leon watching connor for just a little too long and sees his eyes fall to his lips a little too often and watches leon shove against connor and painfully painfully recognises it as the same type of 'flirting' he used to do in erie, hoping that connor would pick up on it and the rest of the team wouldn't think anything of it . so when connor goes to the bathroom dylan leans over the table and tells leon, quiet, 'he's straight,' and when leon looks like he's going to question, or protest, dylan says, 'i tried,' because he kissed connor at the top of 2015 and connor clumsily let him down and dylan clumsily tried to pass it off as the friendly, platonic outcome of one too many vodka diet cokes. anywa y. leon says, 'okay,' and drags his eyes down dylan's face and down the hollow of his throat and down his chest where his shirt is just slightly unbuttoned, and dylan's grown a sixth sense type of ability to assess when he's about to do something a little bit stupid, but leon's hot, and interested, and it doesn't really matter that leon would rather be shoving connor's tshirt over his head in his bedroom, than unbuttoning dylan's shirt in his hotel room, because dylan finds himself imagining bronze hair under his hands anyway .

[lostinwildflowers]

Arthur Morgan x Reader

Summary: On a quieter day out in the fields, you suggest cooling off in the creek. Arthur isn't so sure about it until you get a little... wild.

Word Count: 4.0K

Warnings: me not knowing anything about RDR2 but trying my best, fluff, suggestive themes, mentions of undressing, implied feelings and thoughts, some mutual pining

A/N: Hey y'all!! This is for my lovely dear and amazing bestie @bluebellhairpin for being an absolute sweetheart. I know about 0 things about RDR2 but I tried my best so please be kind😅 -Birch<3

It was an unusually warm day out in the west, the trails rocky and red with the stain of the harsh dirt. The landscape was ethereal, with large mountains diving into deep gorges on either side, opening into the wide valley where you were riding.

The valley was your current home, with fields of wispy green grasses and low-hanging brush. There were trees near the edges of the fields, and large pines that had been there for generations.

It was a warm day, and a windy one too. The sun was beating down on you and Arthur, making a sheen of sweat build up on your brow.

The wind whipped through the valley, making the only sounds audible those of the trees and grass rustling, and the faint whisper of a creek trickling in the background.

The sound of your horse walking underfoot was almost mute to you, as hours spent in the saddle made you accustomed to the four-beat walk of your horse across the rough terrain.

Bourbon, your trusty bay stud horse, was also enjoying the day. His neck was low, walking quietly behind Boadicea, his black tail flicking off flies casually. The sun beating down left his brown haircoat curled with sweat on his neck and under his mane, but he didn't seem to mind.

You reach down and pet him on the neck with your free hand as you mumble, "Just a little longer, we're coming up on some water soon." Arthur was just ahead of you, determined to lead until he was sure it was safe enough to take a break.

The call of a hawk overhead snaps your eyes to the sky, your straw cowboy hat blocking most of the sun's bright rays. Your (colored) eyes lock onto the conglomerate of crows and hawks circling in the sky, your brows wrinkling as you try to locate what they're hovering over.

"Arthur," you call wearily, "There's some birds up ahead, might need to be on the lookout for bears."

You see him just wave his hand in acknowledgment, and you roll your eyes before you kick Bourbon into a trot, veering off to the side of the small deer trail where the two of you had been scouting.

You sit deep into your saddle as you climb up the small hill, squinting as you look for the kill the birds were waiting for. Bourbon looks attentively ahead, his feet shifting nervously under you as your gaze locks onto the carcass of a dead cow elk in the dip below you.

You can hear a gruff call from Arthur behind you, but you ignore him as you spot a thin coyote chewing on the exposed and worn bones. You turn your head and say, "It's just a 'yote, we should still stay aware though."

When you turn over your shoulder to see if he heard you, Arthur is waiting at the bottom of the small hill, a frown on his face as he grumbles, "Well, I was gon' tell ya we could see that kill just up ahead. But you ain't never listen to me."

At that, he turns and heads back up the trail, aiming for the sound of the faint water in the distance. Your gaze trails after him, and you feel hot, your pearl snap shirt feeling heavy against your skin. And it wasn't because of the sun.

Bourbon was still dancing under your feet at the sight of the wild dog, and you scan the small field again to keep an eye out for any other large predators. Where there was one, more would certainly follow.

You see, Arthur and the rest of your crew were getting ready to move camps, with your current spot only being for overnight as you headed south slowly toward Valentine.

Dutch and the others were still north at Colter, so you and Arthur were out trying to find the best way to get south without being noticed. Thus, you had to spend some warm hours in the saddle, locating the best resources and safest places to travel while staying stealthy.

You and Arthur both decided to just take your horses and leave the wagon for now, as you didn't think it would take you very long. You see, you were a master of the land. You knew every type of plant, the color of every rock, bird, and meat, and which berries were safe to eat. You were a true survivalist, and that's why Arthur kept you around.

It wasn't the only reason, but Arthur definitely saw your strengths in the group, which led him to his current predicament- being alone with you. Not only were you an asset to the group, but you were also gorgeous.

After leaving Eliza, he was set on never showing emotion again, rather keeping to his business and leaving feelings out of the mix. But when you showed up, with Dutch smiling and talking to you, he knew he was going to be in for it.

With your braids of (colored) hair and gleaming (colored) eyes, Arthur knew he wasn't going to be able to make it work. And what was worse, is that you were sweet. Just a truly kind-hearted individual who cared deeply about the others around you.

As you gazed out across the valley, you didn't catch Arthur's glance toward you, noting the way your hair curled around the edges of your hat. Even the way your tan and burgundy striped pearl snap shirt clung to every part of you, he knew that you could seduce a man.

He hated the way he felt toward you because he knew he had messed up in the past. He knew he couldn't do that to you, you were too good for the life he lived.

You turned Bourbon to follow him back up the path as you grumbled, "That sucker thinks he knows better than me 'bout what's out here." Little did you know, Arthur heard you and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lip at your sass.

"Water's up ahead, Y/n/n," he calls over his shoulder, the nickname flowing off of his tongue before he could stop it. He feels a pang run through him as silence fills the air, but he doesn't dare turn around to look at you.

But you were just taking a drink from your canteen, and you froze in place at his words. Bourbon stops as your body stills, and Arthur just barely rides out of sight as you process what he said.

Y/n/n? Is he alright? Whatever, I need to refill my canteen, you think to yourself. You shove the bottle into your pack on the back of your cantle, petting Bourbon on the neck as you trot up the trail after him.

"Lookin' pretty clear to me," you state breathlessly as you break to a walk next to him, panting from the heat of the sun. Your (colored) gaze lands on his face, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at seeing his handsome features.

Even with sweat on his brow and grime on his hands, he never looked better. He had cuffed his sleeves and rolled them up his forearms, exposing the thick muscle.

His hair was longer, and while tangled from the wind and not having been washed in a few days, it still looked soft. His eyes were always masked with emotion so you could never tell what he was thinking, but over time you've learned some of his small intricacies.

You could see the water up ahead, and you shoot Arthur a wide grin as you cut Boadicea off with Bourbon, sliding in front of him as he yelled, "Aye! What're you thinking woman-" "Just live a little, Arthur!" you call over your shoulder, loud giggles falling from your lips as you rush up to the widening creek.

You swing your leg off of your horse, stepping down onto the ground, the thin leather of your shotgun chaps brushing against the red dirt. You pull your reins down from Bourbon's neck, giving him a gentle pat as you grab his halter from your saddle.

You pull his bridle off and slip his halter on, hanging the bridle over your saddle horn before leading him to the water. You can hear Arthur behind you, and when you turn around to look at him, you catch his eye.

He's still sitting on Boadicea, watching you intently. You crack a crooked grin and hum out, "You see something you like, Arth?" You laugh as a frown covers his face, and he turns to get off of his mare as you snicker to yourself.

This is how it usually went, you did most of the talking, and you laughed at his reactions. Bourbon happily drank from the stream as your eyes scanned the banks of the water on the other side, no predators in sight.

Arthur leads Boadicea next to Bourbon, also having slipped her bridle off and letting her drink. Your giggles settle down as you let out a happy sigh, combing through Bourbon's black mane as he finished swallowing.

Once both horses were content with their levels of thirst, you lead them to a nearby tree, loosely tying them so they could nibble at the grass.

You turn around to tell Arthur to fill up his water jugs, but your mouth closes at the sight of him. He had undone the top few buttons of his shirt and was crouched down by the edge of the water. In his right hand was his hat, tucking it close to his chest while his left hand dipped into the water, scooping it up to splash on his face and neck.

Heat flooded over you, almost like a wave of nausea. In an instant, your chaps were way too warm, and you go to start unbuckling them. You feel almost itchy after having looked at him like that, so you try to focus on getting your chaps off.

You unsnap the sides and sigh at the feeling of what seemed like cooler air rushing into your slightly damp jeans, before unclasping it at the belt.

Arthur watched you from the corner of his eye, and he felt his throat drying up at the sight of you. He swore it was just the heat from the sun coming down stronger, but he couldn't deny it. You looked good.

Once your chaps hit the ground and you could take a breath again, you say, "We should refill the water jugs." Arthur nods and stands up with a quiet, "Yeah, go 'head and grab 'em."

You nod in return, turning your back to him to grab the canteens and jugs off of the horses' saddles. In his head, Arthur fought everything in him to not glance at the curve of your waist and hips.

You had this natural sway about you, and as you bent over to grab a bottle you dropped, Arthur cursed to whatever higher power there was that he couldn't tell you what he was thinking. A moment later you appear in front of him, a soft smile on your lips as you hand him a couple of the bottles, your arms completely full.

"Sorry," you mutter as one bottle slips from your hands again, and you reach down to grab it before all of the bottles tumble to the ground. A few choice words fall from your lips, and as you grasp at one, Arthur's hand grabs at it too.

For a moment, all you can think of is the feeling of his rough hand on yours, and you cease motion. You look away from the bottles to meet his eyes, and you find he's already looking at you.

"Y/n/n," he whispers, so close to you. You can feel his warm breath hitting your face, and despite the heat of the day, you can't bring yourself to care.

"Arth..." you reply, butterflies erupting in your belly at the intensity of his gaze. You're snapped out of the moment when Bourbon starts coughing behind you and you feel even more warmth across your face as you snatch the bottle and stand up.

"Sorry Arthur, I'm such a clutz," you say neutrally, grabbing another bottle before heading down to the water, glad your straw hat covered the expression on your face; horror.

He doesn't reply, but he throws his own cowboy hat on the ground behind you before grabbing the other bottles and crouching down to fill them. You could practically feel the heat waves and tension kissing in the air, but neither of you said anything.

You finish filling the bottles and carefully take them back to the saddles, putting them in the packs and taking a deep breath. What on earth is wrong with me? What did I think he was gonna do?

You try to brush it off the best you can, hanging your hat over the top of your bridle on Bourbon's saddle, doing the same with your chaps. As you try to cool off, a mischievous idea comes over you.

Arthur had put his canteen back on his saddle and had reached into one of his packs to grab his leather notebook. He plopped down on the other side of the tree from where the horses were, quiet as could be.

You do your best to ignore him, and as you get to the edge of the water, you start taking off your boots. Then your socks. Then goes your belt. And right as you start to undo the buttons to your pearl snaps you hear Arthur.

"What're you doin'?" It's a simple question, no malice in his voice. You smile but don't turn around to face him. "Cooling off," is all you say in return as you undo another button.

"Y/n/n, you better watch yourself," you hear this time. It's a little more firm, but you still don't turn around. A second later, you let the material of your shirt float down your arms before it joins the pile of clothes on the ground.

You don't see it, but Arthur's blue gaze is locked on your figure. He wants to look away, he wants to give you the privacy you deserve, the respect you deserve as a lady. But he can't.

"Y/n..." you hear again, but this time it's lower. Deeper. And more... well, intense. You keep going though, undoing the buttons to your jeans and shimmying out of them.

You're left in just your undergarments, and you can't help but feel the air whizzing around you. It feels electric from the burning of the sun, but also because you know he's watching you. Taking in every freckle, dimple, and curve of your body.

He's never seen this much of you, and you aren't sure why you felt so bold, but you take a cautious barefoot step forward and into the water. You can't help the gasp that falls from your lips as your toes submerge in the cool water, and a giggle follows a moment afterward.

You take a few more cautious steps, and you don't hear anything else from Arthur. Once you're about waist-deep into the water, that's when you turn around.

And for once, Arthur's eyes aren't on you. A pang hits you in the gut. You aren't sure if it's disappointment, relief, or what, but all you can think of is how foolish you feel at that moment.

That's until you realize what he's doing. You had seen him grab his notebook, yes, but you didn't know what he was going to write. Except he wasn't writing at all.

His thick fingers were wrapped around a small pencil, where you could see him scratching out long, smooth strokes. Your brow furrowed in confusion at his movements, and that's when his eyes meet yours.

"Turn back around," he calls, the faintest smirk on his lips as he chewed at a toothpick he had kept in his shirt pocket. You cock your head and reply, "Ya see something you like?"

The words you had said earlier hung heavy in the air for a second, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you awaited his response.

"Maybe I do," is his response. You blink in surprise and swallow thickly at the implication of his words. Yet, you do as he says, and turn back around.

You reach down into the water with your hands, letting the dirt run off of your fingers and into the creek. You then splash a little on your face, brushing the hair out of your eyes and letting the water cool you and your mind down.

You'd never let yourself be this vulnerable in front of Arthur before, but now you just couldn't stop yourself. Something about being with him, out in the fields with your horses put you at ease.

A few minutes go by, with just the sound of the birds tweeting and the water crackling over rocks hanging in the air. You peer over your shoulder, and when you look at Arthur, he's watching.

The notebook he had been sketching in sat closed on his lap, and a wave of embarrassment ran over you. He'd just been sitting there, admiring you. Not in a creepy or predatory type of way, but simply a man enjoying the beauties of the world around him.

You turn to face him, but as you do so, you completely lower yourself into the water, wetting your hair down to the scalp. When you straighten up, you stay submerged with just the points of your collarbones showing.

"Thinking about joining me?" you ask quietly, a chill running up your spine, but not because of the water. This elicits a laugh from Arthur, a sound you don't get to hear very often.

"Darlin', you're testing me," he chuckles, looking down and flopping the notebook from his lap to the ground next to him. A wide grin slips onto your face as you reply, "Am I? I think you might just want to cool off too, Arth. It's been a warm day."

His gaze every so slightly darkens, and his jaw clenches. It was taking everything in him to not jump up, run over to you, and tell you everything he wanted to do to you. Yet he simply takes a deep breath and says, "Someone's gotta keep watch."

You nod and stand up straight, the water pouring off of you, and you see Arthur's eyes travel from your face, down your body, and back up. You don't say anything as you walk out of the water, heading straight toward him.

He stands up the second you're completely out of the water, and once you're standing in front of him, he takes a deep breath and tries to be respectful with his gaze. Pieces of his dirty blonde hair fall out of place as he looks down at you, and you can't help but feel exposed under his watch.

"Someone's gotta keep watch, right?" you whisper. He nods once as his eyes rake over your face and he mumbles, "Right." You also nod once, taking another half-step forward so you're practically touching him.

"How's the view?" you ask quietly, your eyes blinking slowly up at him, a shaky breath falling from your lips. Arthur locks eyes with you as his right hand gradually comes up to sit on your waist, his fingers gentle and warm against your now cool skin.

He reaches up to his mouth to pluck the toothpick from it, throwing it in the grass behind him without breaking eye contact. Then, with that same hand, he brushes a piece of hair out of your eyes, slicking the wet lock behind your ear.

"I've never seen anything this gorgeous in my life," he whispers. You swallow thickly as you continue to gaze up at him, your heart pounding louder and louder in your chest.

You couldn't think of anything smart to say, so all you can mumble is, "Well, is that so?" Arthur smiles lightly as he catches onto your nerves and he whispers, "Yes ma'am. The most beautiful view I've ever seen."

You find yourself leaning into him, your eyes half-lidded as his grip on you tightened. You can hear one of the horses snort behind you, and as your eyes flick to the noise, Arthur's hand moves to cup your cheek.

His touch brings your gaze back to meet his own blue one, and once again your name falls from his lips, "Y/n, I-" He pauses, his grip on you still firm, but his eyes uncertain.

"What is it, Arth?" you whisper, your features softening. Arthur could hardly speak, with you in his arms, the day warm and your skin cool, he didn't think he could move.

He sighs, his eyes shutting for a few moments before they reopen, and when they take in your face again, he knows.

"I love you."

You don't even blink at his words, you don't change anything about the way you stare up at him. And for a moment, Arthur thinks he's messed up. He thinks he's read the entire situation wrong, that is until giggles start falling from your lips.

A snort escapes your mouth, and he doesn't seem to find it funny. You lean into his chest, belly laughing, and Arthur doesn't know what to do, so he just holds you closer to him as he mutters in your ear, "What's so funny?"

Giggles are still coming from you as you straighten up and say, "I can't believe it took me taking my clothes off for you to tell me that." Arthur groans and goes to release you, but you stop him.

Instead, your hands find each side of the collar of his shirt, and you pull him down into a sweet, wet kiss. The droplets of creek water are still running down your cheeks, but neither of you seems to mind as you pull him toward you.

Arthur goes to wrap both arms around your waist, changing the angle of the kiss to deepen it. His nose brushes against yours, and he can't help but feel like he'd finally died and gone to heaven.

You're the one to pull back first, with a wide grin on your face. You flatten the collar of his shirt before you regain eye contact with him and say, "But I love you too."

His lips come crashing into yours again, pulling you flat against his chest. A small moan escapes your lips as he kisses you, but you could care less. All you were thinking about was the feeling of Arthur against you, and how you never wanted it to stop.

This time, he's the one to pull back, and when you flutter your eyes open to look at him, he smiles. You smile back and quickly lean in to place a small peck on his lips.

It's quiet for a moment before you ask, "What was it you were drawing?" He sighs with a chuckle and replies, "Oh darlin', just the best view I've ever seen."

You giggle once as you lean in and whisper against his lips, "Oh really?" He chuckles too and closes the kiss with a small 'uh huh'.

Needless to say, you weren't getting back to the crew until it was pitch black out, but the feeling of Arthur's lips against your own made any question in your mind lay to rest.

And rather than setting up with the rest of the group for the evening like normal, you found yourself laying next to Arthur instead.

[reflectionsofacreator]

potential au game: cylva got yote out of the first all the way to the source and became the warrior of light (timeline discrepancies DNI)

[Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story]

okay okay okay

But Ardbert, dear Ardbert, would not forsake his heart. In the end, he chose mercy. His fight lead him to the twin shadows that guided Cylva, and her world disappears in a pillar of Light that she was afraid would never happen. She wakes in Carteneau, wakes to see Bahamut ripping his way out of the moon, to the bright light of Phoenix battling him, and knows that her task succeeded, that she brought about a Calamity. (She is wrong. She won't know for some time). At least she can take some small comfort in knowing she did her job, that her dearest friends didn't die for nothing.

Five years pass in feverish haze, her body struggling under the enormous weight of the Shadowkeeper that was brought forth to facilitate a final battle. She never was supposed to survive, her role was to be defeated and die. Yet lives she does, and the kind doctors of Ul'dah's medic halls ask her name and tell her she can live. Cylva does not deserve to do so, but... maybe if she does, she can find the Ascians, and make them pay. She didn't have a choice, she had to kill her companions on their orders, but she isn't beholden to them anymore. Her legs wobble like a newborn colt's as she forces herself to her feet and pick up the sword she destroyed a world with.

Cylva meets Lahabrea in the bowels of an old Gridanian prison and does not hesitate to sink her blade through his chest. "Does it make you feel better, Shadowkeeper, to know that you've destroyed this vessel of mine?" He asks, his lips rosy with bubbling blood. "You are more alike to us than you wish to admit. You cannot stop the darkening tide. You will be there, deathless and eternal, to witness as our Lord Zodiark reclaims all. It is your reward." The body that thuds to the ground and squelches against the tacky viscera of the diremite does not absolve her.

She never used to worship the God of Light like so many others in Norvrandt, yet it is hard to witness as crystal after crystal comes to her. She cannot let herself think that it means anything. It is an involuntary reaction from Mother, the same as how her Call is neverceasing and unending, and only needs to be listened to. Mother does not know her, Cylva is simply one of many that heard the Call. (And if she sometimes clutches the stones to her chest and cries in great heaving sobs over the memory of the friend that should've held the stone, then that is her secret to keep.) (How dare she take comfort in God's answering machine.)

Minfilia and the others name her Warrior of Light, and it is a wound, throbbing and raw and she's stuck in it. It's not her title, she didn't deserve this. She's thanked for saving Thancred (as if she would ever let him stay in those bastard's clutches) and for defeating Ultima weapon, and Cylva knows she's tricked them somehow. She can't live up to Ardbert's example, she's spitting on his memory by pretending otherwise.

She isn't a hero, not through the Bloody Banquet, not through the Dragonsong War, certainly not at The Vault. She's just doing her miserable best, only feeling marginally better as she takes down a pair of Ascians that were too much like Lohgrif and Mitron, makes sure two more of those things won't be bothering this world again. It lasts for scant moments, until Estinien - a man just as consumed by grief and rage as she - is taken. She isn't a hero.

She isn't, she isn't she isn't she isn't, right up until her feet skid on gravel and she sees a familiar axe swing, sees his bright blue eyes land on her with disdain and souldeep pain that she knows too well, sees him slaughter an innocent Vath and declare himself a Warrior of Darkness.

She isn't, but for him? To spare him the same pain she knew? She will be.

[lizzylucky]

Thoughts and Observations From the Movie, Part 3/4

Hello! It part 3 of mine silly thoughts and observations from the Rise movie :3

I stopped to look at and highlight this scene mostly because mmm good angst. Leo is an absolutely ferocious fighter, no sarcasm or exaggeration here, but he’s extremely sentimental and kind and protective of his family in turn. As someone who absolutely breaks down when a compromise cannot be found to reconcile two conflicting morals, Leo’s hesitation to fight a threat to his family that happens to be part of his family is downright painful. 

Can you imagine the deflated feeling of dying hope that comes with seeing a glimpse of a vulnerable Raph in a body no longer under its owner’s control? To think you saw your brother shine through only to realize you were wrong? It looked like Raph’s pain because the mind in control exhausted the body. Ouch.

Further content below the cut!

FURTHERMORE! This parallel is everything to me. Leo makes a very similar expression both times, and the shot of his face shows his head angled in the exact same way, both times. Both times, Leo’s life is in danger, and both times, Raph is there. 

The difference is that the first time, Raph is protecting Leo’s life, and the second time, Raph is the danger to Leo’s life. Note also that Raph is physically placed above Leo when he’s trying to save his brother, and Leo is placed physically over Raph when he’s trying to save his brother. Visually speaking, these cues are genius, and I absolutely live for that. It’s what makes both scenes so powerful without most people even realizing there was a connection or a visual representation of the emotion involved.

More Donnie love/angst! This scene also strikes me as being incredibly boosting of Donnie’s strength. Someone else half pointed something here out, and I want to amplify it: Donnie likely has the least prowess with his ninpo/mystic powers out of the four brothers, which gives a little more meaning to this part.

Recall that Donnie was most reluctant to embrace magic, first off. One, because he has some amazing technological mastery that allows him to accomplish many of the same feats magic can, so he finds value in being able to do that without the help of some outside source that doesn’t have any connection to his ability. And, if you remember the episode where he and April visit a witch town, you know that it goes deeper than this in that he’s scared magic of any kind is in itself something that can render him obsolete; because it’s his ability with tech that defines who he is on the team, at least in his eyes.

All that to say it took him the longest to embrace and learn to use his ninpo, really. And once he did get to that point, it was made clear that he used it to enhance his mind’s ambitions and create mystic tech. He’s good at what he does, but each brother has a distinct style or purpose to their ninpo, and while Donnie’s is helpful and overall cool in its own right, by nature it’s not a protective magic like, say, Raph’s. 

So, Donnie has the least experience with his ninpo, and shield making was very definitely not his forte, which means that in this scene it can be assumed the shield he makes to protect him and Mikey is already not very strong, and as it was the Krang punched through it like it was nothing. He and Mikey are both temporarily knocked out as they’re hit out of the sky, both going completely limp in their freefall. 

(As an aside, GOSH I love Donnie being protective over Mikey, just an A+ trope. I might make a separate compilation of screenshots showcasing all the times Donnie and Mikey hung onto and protected each other, and it’s a surprisingly high count)

Immediately after Donnie and Mikey are yote out the sky, Leo directs Raph to go save them, and I wanted to show the screenshot he does this in because I missed the tears in Leo’s eyes the first few times I watched the movie. 

Leo is utterly terrified for his brothers. Pressure is high, he only just got the four of them out of their last immediate danger, and these boys just threw pretty much everything they’ve got at a literal world-ending threat with no effect. Then, without so much as 10 seconds to breathe when coming to this conclusion, both his little brothers are knocked out of the sky, and he had to send his only big brother away to make sure they don’t straight up die, leaving Leo completely alone with an enemy he can’t seem to beat. I’d be crying too, man.

Additionally, I’ve always been curious as to how exactly Raph grabbed both Mikey and Donnie just before engulfing the three of them in a Mega-Ninpo-Raph-Projection. Now I know, and, yeah, it does look like a giant hug. I’m soft for how caringly he wraps them in his arms, almost like he’s cradling them. No doubt he’s got the same fears as Leo running through his head at a million miles a minute, and as an eldest sibling myself I’m impressed with how well he kept his composure.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[astorythatwritesitself]

No format lol anyway! @korblez and @daisywalletchains

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Adrian generally enjoys seafood whenever she can get it, most red meats, chocolate things... but her absolute favorite is this weird spiky sea melon-fruit out of Kajhe, it's like a mix between sweetsop, honeycrisp apple, and cherry in terms of taste & just-ripe banana in texture.

Sid will do many things for Taco Bell. Especially when the Crunchwrap Supreme comes out 😂

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Adrian - pre ME-series? When she was in her late teens and visited Earth for the first time, staying with her mother's side of the family, and got to take a trip to the beach. She swam out to the point of not seeing land any more, and was just... floating there a while, under a clear blue sky, no distinction where it ended and the water began.

Sid - hard to say, honestly. Even her happiest memories as a kid are deeply, deeply soured now. Probably the happiest would be the first day she played hooky from school to watch a copy of Scream she sneaked from a video rental place.

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Adrian - genuinely neither knows nor cares to nail it down for quite a while lol; all she knows is she yote the chest & internal reproductive organs as soon as possible, and Some Folks Are Just Hot. (Meta level - mostly gendervoid with a masc lean, actually not picky about pronouns & just kinda rolls with the she/her thing; pansexual/grayromantic)

Sid - Weird Girl Who Grew Into A Weirder Man, somewhere in the aroace range with occasional spikes of Intrigue; eventually shifts to using she/him pronouns.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Adrian - Dude, Commander Shepard is inherently a power fantasy, what's not to love 😂 I love getting to make her kind of a nerd.

Sid - She's my angsty edge lord <3

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Adrian is genuinely somniphobic by the story-relevant points in her life - it gets /managed/, but never truly goes away.

Sid, meanwhile, has /extreme/ tokophobia - not sure how much it'll ever come up in the story, but it's there. (She also develops a moderate fear of bridges and rivers for a while)

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Adrian - Reapers, I guess? 😂

Sid - Her ex-childhood best friend, Elianna.