#for second it's just such a bi sentiment

[clarajohnson]

for all its flaws the magicians is pretty good at acknowledging queerness in a way that's better than crumbs but i'm also delusional so i'm taking eliot's "if ess was a girl and you found pussy you know interesting in a sometimes you like thai food kind of way" speech as a bisexual margo hanson confirmation

[freyito]

Can you do Smoke and Reptile, sfw, them burying their face in readers boobs, using them as a pillow and how they’d react to reader to reader doing it back to them? You could do somthing suggestive.

I'm curious also, besides Kenshi and Kuai Liang who else are you a fan of?

imma be honest anon, this is such a fire idea. when i was at this a7x concert me and my friend saw a guy with double ds. like. BODACIOUS bro. that was the first thing our eyes went to. he looked like jesus christ brother. he spoke like he had a message from the gods.

anyways. to answer your question. sentimentally i'm very attached to Kitana and Scorpion in general, i played Kitana when mk9 came out (i was 7, my dad let me play mk when i was SEVEN) and my dad played Scorpion and i always got my ass handed to me. but he worked a lot and playing mk9 was the only time we really got together when i was a kid. with mk1, we've been able to play a lot more together and it reminds me of those times, it's really fun. now i win about half the matches we play, but i just don't play Kitana anymore. i really do prefer Kenshi.

I am actually married to Johnny Cage and Kenshi, soooo Also, to be honest, the first characters to draw me into Mk1 were Smoke & Sub-Zero. Hadn't really been a big Sub-Zero fan beforehand, not of Bi-Han or Kuai Liang. So it was fun having that revelation. And Tomas is just super cute, I actually love that he's Czech. We're not the same, but hey, we're atleast both slavic. I dont know why, I just love finding Slavic characters cause more often then not I end up relating to them. Sorry for the monologue, anon. Here's your boob request :P

cw: gn reader cause everyone can have boobs brother, bonus character!, proofread

"ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡꜱ" || ᴛᴏᴍᴀꜱ & ꜱʏᴢᴏᴛʜ

-Tomas Vrbada

Tomas loves nothing more at the end of the day than getting to bury his face in your chest. As long as you two are in private, he'll wiggle his way into you somehow.

Half the time you two have together, he's face down in your chest, it is a regular occurrence and will stay a regular occurrence.

Does he do anything other than that? No. He's planking. He's in love, man, you can't blame him.

So, when you find him laying on the bed that one fateful night, defenseless, you give him the same treatment. You climb onto the bed, and slink your way into his arms.

He reaches out for you absent-mindedly, running his hands through your hair. Then you strike. You plank right into HIS boobs. He hasn't even registered yet. But you understand why he does it to you. Even if you can't breathe, it's somehow euphoric.

Tomas pauses, looks down at you. And his face flushes. You can feel his body temperature rise. He doesn't know how to react, he's been caught in just an inconvenient situaton.

He doesn't complain, though. He's just flustered. Real flustered. He holds you close after he can find his composure, still unsure but grateful of your touch.

-Syzoth

Syzoth almost always makes a dive for your chest when you two are cuddling. He'll be tangled up with you- quite literally, the man really enjoys being as close as possible- and still find a way to bury his head into your chest.

Doesn't matter how much you dodge out of it, he's going to wrap himself around you and find your chest somehow, someway.

But, he thinks he's free of this torment. He gets to lay his head in your chest, and run off freely. He does it when you two nap, when you cuddle, wherever, whenever.

You find him one night, after a long day and seize your chance. And your boyfriends boobies. Without a second chance you throw yourself at Syzoth, aiming directly for his chest.

You can see him realize in that moment what's happening. And you can see the exact look of 'awh fuck', almost as if in slow motion. And when you finally get to lay your head onto his sweet, sweet, pillows, he gives up right then and there.

Syzoth accepts the love, completely. He might act all pouty because you robbed him of his favorite thing to do, but secretly he loves it. You can almost hear him purr.

-Bonus Points! Bi-Han

Bi-Han doesn't really find himself buried in your chest too often. Mainly because he feels like he's controlled for that. He's thought about it, but refuses to do it.

But let's be honest, how can you not shove your face in his tits? They're massive, H cups AT LEAST. So you stalk your boyfriend, until you can find a private moment between you two.

He doesn't know your game, but he does know you've been following him. He's not annoyed, he's simply confused as to why you won't directly approach him.

So, when you ambush him, he's only slightly prepared. You go straight for his boobs. And you land directly in between them. Silence washes over you two.

Bi-Han doesn't understand. Part of him doesn't want to. So he simply wraps his arms gently around your waist and pulls you closer. He kind of thinks you're in need of comfort.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS

[beardedmrbean]

Frustration with Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez has reached a breaking point on her home turf, with fed up Queens and Bronx constituents telling The Post they’re sick and tired of being second fiddle to the jet-setting socialist’s primary focus — herself.

Her district offices in the Bronx and Queens offer little to justify the $1.9 million the congresswoman gets to run them — one is only open a single weekday and the other is closed on Fridays, with phones that go unanswered and constituents urged to discuss their problems “by appointment only.”

AOC’s town halls used to be monthly events – now are only held once in a blue moon, there’s virtually no way to get in a question, and sometimes she only phones in and doesn’t bother coming in person, galled constituents said.

“This woman has done nothing for the community she was once again elected to serve,” said Lauro Vazquez of Woodside, Queens.

Vazquez echoed a sentiment heard in all corners of AOC’s bi-borough district — that they and the “mundane” issues they care about — jobs, public safety, traffic — are an afterthought for a representative with her eyes on the national stage.

The perception turned into a reality last week at a town hall in Jackson Heights, when AOC gave a packed auditorium of people just under an hour of face time before dashing for the exit to an idling SUV.

She took only six questions.

The public meeting had already been postponed from its original date because the lawmaker fell ill after wrapping her nationwide Fighting the Oligarchy tour with Bernie Sanders.

“Of course, it’s cancelled — too busy jet setting around on private jets screaming about ‘oligarchs’ and setting up her bid for a POTUS run,” said Vazquez. “This woman has done nothing for the community she was once again elected to serve.”  

“It’s hard to find a private plane – it’s Easter weekend,” mocked Jackson Heights resident Tatiana Lacatus of the cancelled event. “She is too big for us.”

Elmhurst’s Ramses Frias, a Republican City Council candidate, called Ocasio-Cortez an “absentee landlord” disconnected from the reality of her working-class constituents.

“She’s flying around on private jets, talking about the oligarchy, which is not really resonating with the regular guy – the person going shopping over here at the supermarket,” he said, sarcastically adding, “She’s a rock star.”

On matters big and small, critics in her district — which includes Astoria and Jackson Heights in Queens, and the South Bronx — said AOC is failing the people that put her into office.

She has done little on a controversial $8 billion casino proposal by Mets owner Steve Cohen on parkland near Citi Field, which opponents fear will become a blight on the community.

At the town hall, all AOC could do was shrug off the concerns.

“The Citi Field Park has been redistricted out of my district,” she said. “I have respectfully made my position on this known to folks who are weighing in on it. I don’t really have anything to do on that besides making my position known.”

But critics said she will pounce on an issue that suits her — even if it is nowhere near her district.

She made headlines in 2021 by briefly volunteering to work at a Houston food bank and help raise more than $5 million for Texans after the state was devastated by winter storms – yet some of her own constituents said she did little to assist New Yorkers that same year who were slammed by Hurricane Ida and still dealing with the pandemic.

The congresswoman paid only lip service after the Trump administration last month announced it was cancelling $200 million in grants for climate-friendly “cloudburst projects” that help absorb heavy rains, according to critics. Some of these projects were slated for parts of flooding-plagued parts of Queens.

But in March she loudly advocated for Columbia University graduate student Mahmoud Khalil, who is not her constituent, after the anti-Israel activist was arrested and detained.

“Mahmoud was a Columbia student — but our office has been able to take the lead on that case for the New York City delegation,” she boasted at the town hall.

Locals expect more from the lawmaker who recently boasted about commanding crowds of 86,847 people, including in far flung places like Missoula, MT, and Nampa, ID.

“I wish she did more,” admitted Aimee Rosato, an AOC campaign volunteer. “We don’t need a casino, it drives me a bit wild.”

“She will help if it gets her name on national issues,” sniffed Jackson Heights’ Gloria Contreras. “She’s about her and getting worldwide attention while ignoring her constituents.”

Even fellow comrades are tired of the schtick.

“She’s always on TV trying to build up her profile – not to represent her neighbors and fight for funding for her constituents,” a longtime lefty Queens pol told The Post.

Another slap in the face came this week after her office asked business owners to fill a survey about the impact of tariffs, which was viewed as a shameless attempt to bash President Trump’s policies and elevate herself on the national scene.

“Now you are digging for dirt?” slammed retired nurse Jeanette Geary

Many pointed to a failure not just to bring economic development to her district — but to sabotage it, like killing the deal to bring an Amazon headquarters to Queens after she first got elected. It would’ve created 25,000 jobs and was backed by most of her constituents.

“We need to focus on good healthcare, living wages, affordable rent. Corporations that offer none of those things should be met w/ skepticism,” she posted on X at the time.

“She killed the Amazon deal, ghosted her district, and thinks viral TikToks make her a legislator,” said Republican mayoral candidate and Guardian Angels founder Curtis Sliwa.

One of AOC’s two district offices, in Astoria, is open only one day a week and is shared with Queens Councilwoman Tiffany Caban, a fellow socialist. Typically, Caban’s workers are forced to take in-person messages left for AOC because the congresswoman isn’t regularly staffing the office, sources said.

Ocasio-Cortez’ main constituent office in the Bronx’ Hunts Point is closed Fridays and shuttered for long lunch breaks the other four days.

When The Post paid a visit, a Spanish-speaking constituent, who was seeking help on an immigration matter, had to wait outside the office for about 30 minutes until 1pm before she was allowed to enter.

Phone calls usually go unanswered, leaving the public with no way to contact staff unless they show up in person. 

And when they do, they are met by an intimidating sign at the door at the Astoria office demanding “by appointment only” — or a surveillance camera and iPad check-in in the Bronx, where they have to give personal information before they can talk to a worker on issues.

Forget about actually seeing AOC in town.

She has spent at least $101,788 in campaign funds on flights across the US in just the past year, Federal Election Commission records show. 

She spent three days in March and five days in April with Sanders on their national oligarchy tour. 

Many believe she is eyeing the White House.

She raked in a jaw-dropping $9.6 million in campaign donations during the first quarter of this year, shattering her own personal record and fueling rumors of a future presidential run.

Her office did not respond to questions about how often the congresswoman was in her district in the past year, only boasting she is the most popular NYC politician, according to a Siena College poll in April.

“She is a constant presence in the district and deeply engaged with the issues that matter to her constituents” her chief of staff Mike Casca told the Post.

However, Councilman Robert Holden, a moderate Queens Dem, said he “hears from her constituents constantly — and AOC is nowhere to be found.”

“She can’t be bothered doing mundane constituent services like addressing quality of life issues in her district,” he said.

Holden added: “She’s too busy trying to make our entire country into a carbon copy of the failed Soviet Union — Queens and the Bronx deserve better.”

[zg0nuwa]

I could only imagine how Bi han would freak out when he finds out reader wasn't wearing her necklace or just took it off for moment. Like dang calm down

Reader: I only took it for a second. I need to shower

he’s pissed, absolutely fuming.

it was a tiring day to say the least. you’ve been on your feet without a break for at least 8 hours now. running not only around the temple since bi han was out on the field and had been so for the past two days and as his partner you had taken some formal duties for the time being, but also getting errands done for your household.

you finally came home around 11 pm and went straight for your bedroom. getting rid of your clothing and jewelry to put on your silk blue robe and go to take a hot shower.

in the meantime bi han came back much earlier than expected. he told you he would take at least four days before returning and yet here he was. confused as to why you haven’t come to greet him. but after realizing what time it was he figured you were simply asleep.

he started undoing his hair on the way to the bedroom, the slight tugging of his hairstyle becoming a nuisance after an entire day.

when he entered the room he only found your clothes laid out on the bed and your jewelry on the bedside table. usually it wouldn’t alert him that much but he saw the necklace tangled up with your earrings and hairpins. the tiredness, soreness and bits of leftover adrenaline made him reel at the sight.

you barely even exited the bathroom when he jumped to you with a deep scowl on his face.

“ bi han! you’re home - ”

“ why did you take it off? ”

you look up at him a little confused.

“ don’t be stupid. the necklace. why are you not wearing it? ”

“ i just took it off to shower? why are you so agitated about it? ”

you weren’t blind, you saw how bi han looked at the necklace when you were wearing it. you just couldn’t understand why he did it. sentimental value? most probably. but it still didn’t explain his literal obsession with it. maybe you’ll finally find out.

“ i have my reasons. ”

“ which are? it’s like you’re obsessed with it! ”

his eyebrows shot up in disbelief, where you questioning him? he admired your fighting spirit but not so much when it was directed at him.

“ it proves that you’re mine. ”

i like my men mentally unstable and with questionable morals

[izzabela]

There's a First Time for Everything - Lin Kuei Siblings x fem!reader (scenario fic)

in which Tomas, Kuai Liang, and Bi Han give you their first kiss

a/n: so an anonymous requested the Lin Kuei family trying pda/first kiss, but my tumblr buggin hella, so i can't find the actual anon request. IF YOU REQUESTED THIS TROPE PLEASE SEND A DM BECAUSE I WANT TO TELL YOU THAT YOU. ARE. SEEN. also big thanks to anon for being my first ever request.

ship[s]: kuai liang, tomas, bi han x fem!reader (separate)

warning(s): pre-betrayal, consider yourself an opp if you hate fluff

Kuai Liang

The winter festival near the Lin Kuei Palace had wrapped up, and everyone was gathering in the field for the final fireworks display provided by the village. While the many families, couples, and festival-goers were heading to the field, Kuai Liang was leading you somewhere else.

"By the elder gods," you managed to muster out your chattering teeth, "I'll turn into a popsicle up here!"

Kuai Liang turned back at you and saw you clutching onto the fur pelt he gave you to fight the freeze. He smiled sheepishly and went by your side, taking your shoulders with both hands and lead you up the path. His hands were warmer than usual, and you figured he turned his powers on for you.

"I'm sorry, my love, but we're almost there," he said apologetically, kissing your cheek, "Hold on for me just a little bit longer?"

You rolled your eyes, but gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, "If you say so, love."

You and Kuai Liang have been dating for a couple of weeks now, but it honestly looked like two high schoolers dating more than two adults. Being raised in the environment like the Lin Kuei already left little room for a personal life, let alone a girlfriend! Besides, as second-in-command to his brother, Bi Han, he had very little interaction with women. I mean, there was Frost? But she, like the other female initiates, were training equally as hard as the men.

Kuai Liang had the basics of intimacy and PDA: quick kisses on the cheek, forehead, and hand were the only weapons he had on him. It was cute to see him learn new things about casual intimacy displays of affection, and even cuter to see him flush bright red when he tried them out on you. What was coming next, though, was something you did not expect at all.

Kuai Liang had led you to a beautiful Chinese Pistache tree, covered in frost and snow, overlooking the entire village and the field where the fireworks were going to happen. The sun was still peeking beyond the horizon, ad you could see the light reflect off the frozen pieces of the tree, giving the tree a natural glimmer.

Underneath, there was a seat for the both of you, a pit for fire right in front. Kuai Liang used his magic to set it alight, the fire warming up for both of you. Although you were warmed by Kuai Liang's magic, love had overflowed your heart at the sentiment.

"Okay, this is pretty good," you smirked, turning to him and giving him a soft smile, "This is wonderful. Thank you."

He nodded and led you over to the seat before the fireworks started. As you two waited, you were talking about the amazing day spent: winning cheap festival prizes, trying all the food from the vendors, even talking about how you two saw members of his family around the festival. Your mindless chatter was interrupted when the first boom went off, signifying the fireworks had started.

With the sun's final remnants of brightness gone, the stars and explosives were the only light against the darkness of the sky. The night sky became a canvas for pretty hues of blue, white, purple, and other colors representing winter. The exploded in shapes of snowflakes, mittens, and other iconic images of winter. You watched the show with your mouth slightly open, in awe of the show.

"Beautiful.." you murmured quietly, "Don't you think so, Kuai Lia...ng?"

When you turned to Kuai Liang, all his focus was on you, not the light display. His eyes stared deep into yours, making you turn pink from all the attention. He looked... lost in your colored orbs, and he definitely did not want to be found

"Yes, it is indeed a beautiful display," he said, a warm smile on his face.

His hand reached for your cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. His other hand took the hand you rest in your lap, still trying to keep you warm. However, your heart's pace was going so fast it might have been your personal heat generator. You realized he was slowly leaning in, eyes half-lidded as he was getting closer and closer to your lips.

You closed your eyes and waited for him to close the gap. When he did, your heart exploded with its own fireworks. His lips were warm on yours, and the kiss was filled with desire and longing, as if he'd waited for this moment his entire life. You pulled him closer, your arms flinging over his shoulders, and his hand tilting your face to allow for more room to deepen the kiss. Both of you were fired up, and not due to the warmth Kuai Liang provided with his magic.

When Kuai Liang separated from you, his eyes were glossed with love and euphoria, finally kissing his girlfriend for real. Yours were too, although there was a bit of pride in them since Kuai Liang had initiated it first. You moved one of your hands to his cheek, mimicking the same thing he did to your face as you spoke.

"That was amazing, my love. Where did you learn to do that?" You asked.

He chuckles, a shit-eating grin on his face as he puffed his chest up with a bit of pride.

"The Lin Kuei's secrets are not meant to be shared, love."

You gently shoved his chest, huffing at his response. Although, you had your own arsenal of teasing jabs.

"Well, for a guy who grew up without interacting with women, you fared pretty well."

He tilted his head, this time a smirk of knowing on his face as he brought your face close to his once more.

"Get over here," he said as he closed the distance.

You had more jabs for him, but they were ineffective against this deadly finisher of a move. Still, your mouth welcomed his as you both connected once more, the firework show being nothing but background noise for your guys' moment.

=====================

Tomas

"Boy, were you hungry..." Tomas said wearily as he looked at the bill.

A little burp escaped your mouth, covering it with your hand and offering an "excuse me" to lighten the embarrassment. Regardless, he ruffled your hair and paid the bill without worry.

"I can't help but agree with the sentiment," Kitana said, "The food was indeed delicious."

You, Tomas, Kitana, and Raiden had finished dinner at Madam Bo's in Fengjian, a double date insinuated by Raiden. During a mission to Outworld, he had the courage to ask Kitana out to dinner. However, he was just a bit nervous dining alone with her, so he sent a letter to you and Tomas to come and ease his worries.

The entire night, the four of you enjoyed casual conversation and updated each other on the affairs of your lives. Kitana had been promoted to Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army, Raiden had become an elite monk, teacher, and member to the White Lotus, and Tomas shared updates on his brothers and the Lin Kuei (the updates he was allowed to share, anyways).

You, on the other hand, were a simple villager farmer in Fengjian, which translates to boring. As boring and plain as white rice.

Even so, Tomas made sure to make you feel included. He always mentioned the little anecdotes you told him, asked about your family, and even made sure you and Kitana had stuff to talk about. He knew you were intimidated by her aura, but by the end of the night, she was just another girl (only a princess-warrior to a semi-immortal race).

"You must write to me, my friend," Kitana addressed you as you walked out the restaurant, "It has been too long since another acquaintance as entered my life."

You blushed at her praise and honor, "Of course, your highness! I would love to write to you!"

You and Tomas bade farewell to the other couple, Raiden walking with Kitana before seeing her off to a nearby portal. Hand in hand, you two walked together and enjoyed the quiet night in Fengjian. The casual buzz of June-bugs, flutter of dragonflies, and the light breeze that shook the trees gently filled both of you with peace.

You clung onto Tomas's large arm, nuzzling your face into his beefy bicep. His walk becomes more stiff, this display of affection getting into his heart and head.

While Tomas may be the more affectionate one of his brothers, it still surprised you that things like this flustered him. To be fair, he grew up orphaned from his mother and sister. Thankfully, he was taken in by Kuai Liang and Bi Han, but learning the ways of assassins and growing up with brothers left him very little time to engage with others of the opposite sex.

When you and Tomas were out, PDA was as foreign to him as him growing up in the Lin Kuei. Of course, he welcomed all the innocent brushes of your hands, the little kisses you blew at him, even you holding his hand. It was cute watching him turn beet red, and you always imagined him going back to his home with a love-struck face.

As you two walked, you noted how Tomas was leading a little ways away from the village. Gone were the little wooden houses and loose streetlights, ahead of you two were fields of tall grass and fireflies. Just a bit more walking, and Tomas stopped in the middle of the path.

"Where to now, darling?" you asked.

He simply smiled and walked behind you, covering your eyes and began leading you. You were surprised, but you trusted him and allowed him to guide your body.

"Lin Kuei secrets, my dear. Allow me to escort you, though," he said cheekily.

You heard the brush of the tall grass and the slight mush of the dirt below you. From your ears, you could hear the soft rustle of a tree, and the gentle flow of a small stream. When Tomas's hands were moved, the sight left you breathless.

Madam Bo's teahouse stood at the center of the scene, the houses were lit up and you could see the figures of your people enjoying the evening. You noticed the tree and its long branches stooping over, and you look up to be greeted with the most beautiful Weeping Willow tree in your life. What made it better was the fireflies that blinked their lights, like a personal light display.

A huge, beaming smile was plastered on your face as you began dancing underneath the bugs, watching them scatter and blink. You swung your body around in twirls and pirouettes, enjoying the place Tomas set you up with. He, too, was enjoying the place he brought you. Watching you spin around in pure joy, he decided to join you. He took your hands and danced with you, accompanying you as your dance partner.

After on final spin, he made sure you faced him. With both of your hands in his, you had nowhere else to go or look. He let go from on of your hands and brought it up to the back of your head. He gently brought your forehead closer to him, and he leaned down just a bit to make sure his connected with yours. You could feel his exasperated breath on yours, and you realized there was something else coming after this.

"May I kiss you, darling?" he asked gently.

You nodded shyly and felt Tomas's lips attack yours. You knew that before Lin Kuei, he was a hunter, and his kiss was proof. Sure, this was his first, but there was a primal hunger in it, the urge to have you for himself. His hand down in your other hand moved to your back, pulling you closer to his chest. He dove deeper into your mouth, loving every taste of you.

When he parted from you, he looked breathless and exhausted, yet his eyes longed for more of you. He held back, though, and fixed your hair before resting his hands on your face.

"Did I do well, darling? Was it good for you?" He asked (a little too quickly).

You giggled and rubbed his face gently, "Of course! For someone like you, I'm surprised you pulled this off."

You laughed, but his pout took your joy away momentarily. You frowned a bit and sighed a bit, apologizing.

"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to tease you too hard. I was just-." You were interrupted with another kiss from him.

You giggled and welcomed it, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as he wrapped his around your waist.

It seems that the "King of Smoke" is nothing but a puff in your arms.

=====================

Bi Han

You two walked side by side, silently strolling around the compound-palace as the snow fell. You two were the only ones up at this time of night, minus the guards up in the towers.

As grandmaster, Bi Han had very little time for personal matters. Other than his immediate family and his clan, he was so sure nothing would put him away from his goals. He grew up with the most pressure on his shoulders, reminded that his inheritance would be worth more than gold. Of course, that should have left him with practically zero percent chance of interacting with women- until he met you.

You and Bi Han have been dating for a couple of weeks now, and it has been nothing but enjoyable. Although gruff and strict, he did his best to reel it back for you, especially with your PDA and innocent intimacy. It felt surreal, different, but not unwelcome, and allowed you to do what you wanted with him.

Sometimes, when you held his hand, his magic would affect him and create a very thin barrier of frost in his hand. While it was chilly, he worked on it for you so that you could enjoy normal couple things. There were similar moments when you massaged his head while you two cuddled, any objects in his hand becoming frozen immediately. Sometimes, he worries in hurting you and always asked you if you were alright, even if you told him multiple times you were okay.

You concluded that any time you showed affection to him, his "embarrassment" would come through in the form of ice. It was cute, in a way- dare you say wholesome.

Anyways, as you two walked, you decided to sneakily link your hand with his. In surprise, Bi Han had frozen in place, looking at you with an incredulous look of bewilderment. You smiled at him and watched him turn away, but he couldn't hide the pink that colored the edge of his ear.

"You're blushing, my dear~" you teased, "Why won't you look at me?"

He huffed, "Your games are useless, woman. Let us keep walking."

You chuckled and let him lead the way, his hand in yours as he led you past a couple more corridors and hallways. You were a bit nervous, since these parts of the compound were alien to you.

"Where are we going, dear?" you asked nervously, "I have never seen these parts before..."

You didn't finish your sentence due to the sight in front of you. A beautiful Wisteria tree stood in the middle of a pond, and smooth stone seating was underneath. There was a walkway that lead to the seating, and beautiful flora and shrubbery lined the path. The snowfall added a fantastical touch, this entire hidden garden area something out of a movie.

"No one, besides my family and Tomas, has ever seen this part of the compound," Bi Han explained softly, the natural gruff of his voice still lingering, "This garden area was built for my mother per request of my father."

"It's so beautiful," you breathed, following the path and reaching for a flower, "How can you maintain the flowers life here?"

Bi Han sighs, a rare smile on his face, "I personally see the care to each of the flowers and greenery in here. I coat each one in a layer of frost for the especially colder seasons."

Bi Han follows you as you walked the path leading to the seating. He watches you gently touching each plant, smiling at how well taken care they were. It was a rare sense of softness Bi Han felt. He offers his arm to you and you link your arm in his, escorting you the rest of the way.

"Thank you, my dear, for showing me such vulnerability," you said whole-heartedly as you walked.

Bi Han looks at you and nods, a little smile on his face, "I believe you were deserving of such a place. You are always welcome in the Lin Kuei, especially here."

When you both reached the center, he sat down on one of the stone seats, to which you took the opportunity to surprise him and sit on his lap. Locking eyes with him, his turned wide before turning away, pink lining the edge of his ears once again.

"Enough of your surprises, woman," he huffed out. However, he gently snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You smiled and held his face in your hands and gently moved his face to yours. You gave a quick kiss to his forehead, a form of "thank you" to him. You noted that his eyes held gentility, rare softness, and love for you. His eyes slowly closed as he leaned into you, one of his hands supporting your head.

By the elder gods, he was going to kiss you.

Closing your eyes, you felt the cryomancer's slightly chilled lips on yours. Despite this, you had never felt warmer. Bi Han kissed you with ferocity, afraid that your very being would dissipate if he let go of you or your lips for a split second. The grip around your waist tightened just a bit, and you allowed it by throwing your hands around his shoulders and pulling him even closer (if that was possible).

When Bi Han split from you, his gaze was kept on you, his hand moving from the back of your head to your face. He fixes your hair and cups your cheek, a soft smile on his face as he teases you.

"How was that for a first time?" he mocked you playfully.

Your voice dripped with teasing, "Good, I guess, for the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei."

You were taken by surprise when he kissed you again, a little rougher this time.

He didn't care though, if it meant having you for longer in the privacy of this garden, shrouded in frost and snow.

=====================

i read the original request multiple times to make sure i could ace this, and i hope you enjoyed anon. ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON FOR BEING MY FIRST EVER REQUEST. PLEASE SEND ME A DM OR ANOTHER REQUEST SO I CAN SHOW MY OWN AFFECTIONS TO YOU.

okay enough glazing. thank you guys so much for reading and i'll see you all in the next fic!

[brainddeadd]

Hello!

I have a request for Hughes!sister! reader, i understand and respect your choice to write or discard this.

The Hughes bros protective over sister!reader who’s had her heart broken recently. (Maybe r is bi, ik you have written for lesbian r! and i loved that fic)

Thank you! I love your writing and can’t wait to see what your beautiful and creative mind comes up with!

🥰🥰

Hi hi! I'm so sorry this took so long!!

Thank you for your lovely words 🤍

The Hughes brothers were already protective on a normal day, but after your breakup? They were downright suffocating.

Quinn had immediately offered to fly in, his big brother instincts kicking into overdrive the second you told him what happened. Jack and Luke, already in Jersey with you, were glued to your side. They refused to let you sulk alone, forcing you into movie nights, ice cream runs, and even extra shooting practice at the rink to "get your anger out."

Luke was the angriest about it. "She didn’t deserve you anyway," he huffed, arms crossed as he sat beside you on the couch. "Like, who breaks up with someone as cool as you? She’s obviously an idiot."

Jack nodded, tossing popcorn into his mouth. "Yeah. And you’re way too good for her. Honestly, I never liked her that much."

You sniffled, glaring half-heartedly. "You told me she was perfect."

"Yeah, well, I lied." Jack shrugged. "I was being nice. Sue me."

Quinn’s voice crackled through the speakerphone. "Do you want me to beat her up?"

"Quinn—"

"Kidding. Kind of." He sighed. "Look, Y/N, you’re allowed to be sad, but don’t forget who you are. You’re a Hughes. You’re the best. And if she didn’t see that, then that’s her loss."

You blinked, touched by the rare sentimentality. Luke immediately ruined it by leaning over and whispering, "We could totally egg her house."

Despite everything, you laughed. And maybe—just maybe—you’d be okay.

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

lin-kuei trio x chef! reader

pre-events of the mk1 cinematic; mostly with tomas that can be seen as platonic or romantic

ooc-ish? this is just my interpretation on how it would’ve been like before things got bad for the lin kuei

1.5k

You slide the plate of food onto the wooden lazy susan, quickly warning your guests not to touch the plate. Almost immediately, Kuai Liang decides to place his fingers on the plate’s underside.

You step back, unimpressed.

“With all due respect, Kuai Liang. Seriously?”

“You call this hot?”

Kuai Liang’s good-natured smile is useless against you, because yes, you call this hot; you had to carry it the entire way from the kitchen yourself because the Lin Kuei eat with in absolute privacy, and you also did not have FIRE POWERS. So yes, it was hot. You pointedly place one of two bowls of rice you brought before Tomas, who gleefully rubs his chopsticks together.

“Cease your antics, brother.” Kuai Liang chuckles at Bi Han’s almost embarrassed seething.

“Thank you, Bi Han. You get rice.”

The second bowl is (gingerly) placed before him. You would slam it down too for effect, but you would rather not be frozen alive for having bad manners with the new Grandmaster Of The Lin Kuei.

You internally roll your eyes at the title. Whatever, Bi Han was Bi Han at the end of the day. The brothers had come to the teahouse enough times for you to know that if you gave him food, he would be grateful and shut up to eat it- unless he was on another-

Bi Han pushes the bowl to Kuai Liang with a small motion before picking up his chopsticks.

“You’re on another diet.” You exclaim.

Kuai Liang accepts the bowl with a sigh, likely sharing the same sentiment. Tomas takes a morsel of the stir fry and hurriedly shoves it in his mouth to share his piece, but the food is too hot, and he makes a show of cooling his mouth. Bi Han’ sigh mirrors Kuai Liang’s prior one.

These brothers. It was like a chain reaction, where each one of them were disappointed in each other’s behaviour.

“The Grandmaster needs to be in tip-top shape to fit his grandmaster uniform.” Tomas chides. “So that his arms look good in- ACK!”

His statement is cut off by a small mound of rice being shoved into his mouth, courtesy of Kuai Liang. Whatever he meant to say was replaced by yelps of “Hot!” and whining. He eventually turns to you with an expectant look, like he was hoping you would come to his defence.

You shrug. What were you supposed to do? Scold a ninja-extraordinaire for lovingly feeding his brother? No, seriously. Your relationship with these people was extremely conditional, and there was no doubt they would put you in your place if you ever tried to boss them around.

Except Tomas. There was some leeway bossing Tomas around.

“Is there anything you want to eat today- not you Tomas.” You physically push away the cheeky man’s face to maintain your eye contact with Bi Han. “Since you three cleared out the place, my treat.”

Bi Han looked at his empty plate for a moment, as if he suddenly had forgotten every meal he’s ever enjoyed. You kissed your teeth, immediately understanding. You yourself were the oldest child, so you knew how it felt to suddenly be asked what you specifically wanted. Either that, or if he was considering cheating on his diet just to eat your fried pork.

“The sweet pork. That you made last time.”

Yeah, okay. It just was never as emotionally complicated as you expected it to be with him. Well, it was terribly flattering that he’d take up the precious calories to eat what you cooked- though it did make you question Bi Han’s resolve; you had never seen him in battle, so you couldn’t gauge his self-control other than him crumbling at the promise of your cooking.

Either way, you gave him a thumbs up and an appreciative grimace.

“Right away, boss.”

You scuttle back into the teahouse kitchen, where you thankfully had all the ingredients available. Thank God, there was no emergency calling Kung Lao for the delivery of flour or vinegar. What would that phone call sound like, even?

Hey bestie! Hope you’re not too busy harvesting cabbages because I need you to bring me a cup of sugar to make a meal for the grandmaster of an organised family! Yeah Grandmaster! Yeah, ‘family’! Hope to hear back from you soon!

Just as you’d gotten the oil up and frying, the jammed kitchen door tries to open with a groan. You settle the breaded pork into the ladle, throwing it into the bubbling oil with a satisfying sizzle. The door tries to open again, and it gets a little further before inevitably getting stuck once more.

You roll your eyes. With a single outstretched kick, you manage to send the damp wooden door to swing open like it was brand new, leaving Tomas standing there like a kid caught with his hand in the jam pots.

“Maybe we should recruit you into the Lin Kuei.” The silver-haired man allows himself into your kitchen, carefully side-stepping a hemp sack of flour then once again to avoid a crate of bok choy that toppled earlier in the day.

The kitchen was messy, but when there’s only one person to handle a mountain of orders you learn to improvise. It was a strategic layout that only you needed to understand.

“Nice of you to let yourself into my kitchen.”

“Thought I’d keep you company.” A lie. He just wanted to spend some time away from Kuai Liang and Bi Han, an understandable sentiment. The three of them probably spent too much time together leading the Lin Kuei, and Bi Han was insufferably stuffy to share meals with.

You whisked vinegar and sugar in a bowl, but arms worked in autopilot as you stared at Tomas making himself comfortable on the stool near you cooking station. It was comical, watching the tall man fold himself like origami paper to fit perfectly on such a small surface, tucking his knees to his chest and peering up at you like a child.

This stool wasn’t just any old chair, though. After a couple years, people like Tomas and Kung Lao had turned it into the taste tester’s throne since it was convenient for You to just raise your arm and feed them little bits.

As much as you wanted to be a stronger woman, his grey eyes and boyish smile did make your heart clench. He looked so much like San Bing, the stray dog that you fed in the village- they even begged for scraps the same way.

“You do the same thing as Kung Lao.” Tomas huffed at the comparison, resting his chin on the nearby counter’s greasy surface and blinking with his light glittery eyes.

“But cuter, right?”

You balked, almost letting missing your ladle’s handle and gripping scalding metal in shock. How ridiculous did this man get? At his grown age, acting cute just to gain you favour, all in the name for some bits and pieces? Seriously, if these were the values that the Lin Kuei taught, the world was in grave danger.

A tender piece of pork is pulled out the oil and dipped in the sauce, and then shoved in front of Tomas’ face in the effort to stop him from continuing whatever it was he was doing.

“Do that again, and I will ban you from coming in every again.” You gravely state, and it’s funny how quickly Tomas straightens his posture and nods. “Be careful, it’s hot.”

Tomas is also remarkably like San Bing with how he snatches the food into his mouth, chewing loudly in attempt to cool the food down as he eats it. You continue to fix up the rest of the portion while Tomas watches you, sitting obediently on the stool.

Once it’s on a medium-sized dish, Tomas beats you to picking it up.

“This isn’t just for you, greedy.”

“But the plates are hot, right? I’ll bring it over, don’t worry.”

Tomas smiles, nose wrinkling in a way that makes you want to pinch him. You thank him with a pat on the shoulder and helps him open the kitchen door and watch him walk over to his table. You then pretend not to see him slam the dish onto the table and frantically rub his probably burning fingers on Bi Han’s cold arms.

You bite back the growing grin on your face.

As much as you would’ve liked to hang around the three as they ate their meal, you still had an entire kitchen to clean (to the best of your ability) before the teahouse opened again for the dinner rush. You settle for occasionally peeking at the solely occupied table through the kitchen pick-up area, wholeheartedly laughing when Kuai Liang gives you a thumbs up after taking a bite of the pork. Bi Han gives you a nod, which you assume is as close to kissing him on the mouth as it gets. 

Just as you focus fully on preparing your produce, you miss Tomas waving his chopsticks in the air, but hear him enthusiastically call out your name. This time, you let yourself smile fully as you chop away at some carrots.

[bekkachaos]

WIP Wednesday 🚧

tagged by @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks thank you talented wonderful people 💕

here's some more from the angsty addict Buck / spiralling Eddie fic, I love this fic, I needa work harder on it but help, life 😭

Buck sat back in the hospital bed, canula hanging over his ears and resting under his nose. He looked paler than usual, dark bags under his eyes and a defeated expression in them. They hardly even looked blue, they were almost grey in the harsh white lighting of the ward.

As Eddie made it to the doorway, Buck's eyes flickered to the movement, and for a moment Eddie thought he saw hopeful recognition. It quickly clouded over into a brooding glare; eyes narrowed in wariness as Eddie stopped and gave him a soft smile.

"You really are stalking me," Buck said, and Eddie snorted out the shadow of a laugh.

"Just checking in," he said, making the crease between Buck's brows deepen.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked cautiously.

Eddie wasn't surprised that Buck didn't remember, he was mostly unconscious. The only time he roused was for mere seconds in the ambulance, Eddie could remember so clearly his slurred words and the way his hand gripped his so tightly before dropping limp again.

"Because I called 911 when I found you," he said, watching Buck's jaw tighten.

He stared back at Eddie for a few silent moments, as though he was carefully considering what he wanted to say.

"You want a fucking medal?" he said with a weak excuse for a snarl.

Eddie's mouth just turned up at the corners, returning a laugh with equal enthusiasm.

"No," he said, thinking of the silver star sitting somewhere in his closet collecting dust. "I really don't."

"Then why are you here?"

He sounded almost exhausted, like he didn't have the energy for this fight but refused to just lay back and accept Eddie's presence, or help.

"I can't just want to make sure you didn't die overnight?" he asked with a shrug, leaning on the doorframe as he watched Buck put his hands up, palms to the ceiling as he gave Eddie a sarcastic look.

"Not dead," he said, letting his hands drop onto his thighs, the sound he was trying to make for effect muffled by the gnarled hospital blanket. "So you can get out now."

"Are you really just going to tell me to leave?" he asked, feeling a tick of annoyance in his jaw.

"I don't want you here."

His voice was indifferent, but his eyes turned away from Eddie's as he spoke, staring off into the corner of the room like it was all the more interesting.

"Where are you going to go?" Eddie asked, ignoring his cold sentiment.

"That's none of your business."

tagging some lovelies if they have things to share x

@monsterrae1 @thelikesofus @eddiebabygirldiaz @dr-shortsighted-owl @loveyourownsmiilee @smilingbuckley @lonelychicago @wildlife4life @jackluvsdaniel @morose-fan @bidisasterevankinard @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck @daffi-990 @spagheddiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doctorkinney @diazsdimples @steadfastsaturnsrings @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @jesuisici33 @tizniz @bucksbiawakening @gayhoediaz @inell

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Thomas survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 37/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Shots Fired at Burger Fool

After two and a half years, Martha started working on a scholarship for art students which resulted in an invitation to tour schools all over to talk about the new program. She’d been to most of the high schools in Gotham, but she wanted to branch out by having representatives talk to children at any school that would invite them. She and a few other artists drew lots to find out where they were going. Christa, the interior designer for Wayne Enterprises, got Metropolis, New York, and Sawmill. Her assistant, who originally went to school for art history, got Star City, Bloomington, and Philadelphia. Martha received Dakota City, San Marcos, and Fresno. In total, she had twenty people slotted to visit three cities each, spend time with students in schools, and help students apply for art scholarships. 

Martha packed a bag and kissed Thomas’ cheek. “What are you doing with the fellas while we’re gone?” Martha asked.

“Get a dozen donuts. Have four each… Pass out on the couch… Oh, and I’m taking the boys and Gilda to a baseball game. It’s been a while since I got to take in a Knights game. What about you and Alfred? This is the longest you’ll have been alone with Alfred since we met,” Thomas smiled. 

Martha took Thomas’ hands and kissed his knuckles. “I’m not sure what we’ll do, but I know one thing. Tonight will be one for the books, honey bunny,” Martha answered. 

Thomas kissed the tip of her nose. “Please be gentle, love,” Thomas whispered. 

“How gentle?” Martha asked as she tilted her head upwards to kiss Thomas. He shut the door and let his lips graze her temple as he slid a hand down her arm. Martha hooked a finger in the waistband of Thomas’ pajama pants. “The lock. Lock the door.”

Thomas gasped as she reached down his pants, and he locked the door with shaky hands. 

**

Thomas sat between Bruce and Dick, eating a hot dog during the first pitch. “Dad? I’ll be right back,” Dick whispered in Thomas’ ear. 

“Got your phone on you?” Thomas asked. Dick nodded as he got up and shimmied down the aisle. Harvey sat between Gilda and Bruce, holding a soda in one hand and onion rings in the other while Gilda and Bruce took turns sneaking sips and bites. Thomas finished eating his hotdog and kissed Bruce’s temple. 

Bruce turned to him and smiled. “What was that for?” Bruce asked. 

“Just ‘cause. Thanks for coming to the game with me,” Thomas smiled. 

Bruce offered him a stolen onion ring. “Anytime you ask me… Nothing’s better than spending a day with you,” Bruce grinned, “We haven’t done this in forever, huh?”

Thomas softened and took the onion ring to avoid sounding emotional or overly sentimental. “That pitch was pathetic. I’m gonna be sick,” Gilda complained. 

“Sweetheart, do you wanna put your foam sword down for a second?” Harvey asked. 

Gilda blinked hard. “Why? Are we about to get nachos?” she questioned in reply. “Do you want nachos?”

Harvey nodded slowly, waiting for her to drop her sword in his lap and run off to the concession stand before he whispered to Bruce. “Fair warning, Gilda loves baseball… A lot ,” Harvey warned Bruce. 

“I know. I think it’s cute seeing such a sweet person get so riled up over baseball. I ran into her at a sports bar once. She was pounding beers, but I’m not gonna lie, it was probably the closest I’ve ever felt to her,” Bruce answered.

Harvey blew out a breath of air. “It scares me,” Harvey replied. 

Thomas checked his phone. “Does anybody want a beer? I think I’m gonna have one today,” Thomas announced. Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Harvey said he’ll DD, but I—. You’re not gonna get sick are you?” Bruce asked. Thomas used to do his fair share of partying and ever since their last wild party, the smell of alcohol made Thomas a little bit queasy.

“I won’t get sick. If I can stomach the smell, I’ll have a few sips. If I can’t, I’ll hand it over to you,” Thomas promised. Bruce kissed his father’s temple in reply.

“Good man. We’ll split your beer then,” Bruce replied, “Um… Dad, call me if you need me.” 

Thomas chuckled. “I think I can get a beer and a pretzel, Bruce. Do you want anything?” Thomas asked. 

“Ooh, chili dog for me like old times,” Bruce replied. Thomas nodded excitedly. 

**

Meanwhile, Martha asked Alfred to walk with her instead of driving from school. Alfred had a strange inkling that someone was following closely behind them but every time he turned around, no one was there. “What’s wrong?” Martha asked. 

Alfred shook his head, letting Martha remain unaware of whatever looming threat lurked on the streets of Dakota City. “Are you hungry?” Alfred asked. 

“I want to try Burger Fool while we’re here. The kids said I’ve gotta try it,” Martha replied with childlike excitement, eliciting a laugh from Alfred. “You have to eat a burger with me. Eat with your hands.”

“I eat with a fork for your safety, Miss,” Alfred replied. Martha looked up at him. “You couldn’t handle the sheer sexual energy of watching me hold meat between two buns with my bare hands. I fear you might faint.” 

Martha covered her mouth with wide eyes as she let out a screeching laugh before feeling something pole at the center of her back. She stopped walking and before Alfred could turn around, he heard a hoarse voice whisper, “Move and she’s dead. Don’t fuck with me, English.” 

“It’s fine, Alfred. Let’s see what he—.” 

A little girl came running down the street at full speed before leaping over a mailbox and drop-kicking the gunman in the face. Martha turned around, wide-eyed as she pulled the little girl away from him. “How did you—?” The little girl’s stomach growled. “What’s your name?” Martha asked. They locked eyes and the little girl patted Martha’s cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart… But, I—. Who are you?” 

Martha held eye contact with her until she realized the little girl couldn’t speak, and she turned her concerned gaze to Alfred. He picked up the man’s gun with a pen and dropped it in the gutter before rushing them into the restaurant. “Miss Martha, are you alright?” Alfred asked. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he slumped down in a booth. Martha held the nameless girl’s hand while she patted Alfred’s cheek to comfort him. 

“I’m going to order our food, Alfie. Save our seats,” Martha whispered. Alfred nodded. “I’m fine. Are you?” 

“Yes,” Alfred lied. 

Martha frowned before taking the little girl with her to the line. “What do you want, sweetie pie?” Martha questioned as she pointed to the menu overhead. The girl let go of Martha’s hand and pointed to a picture of a burger. “Is it yummy?” The girl didn’t answer, but she returned to Martha’s side. “I think I’ll have that, too.” Martha studied the little girl’s clothes and shoes. Her clothes were dirty and ill-fitting, while her shoes looked like they were half a size too small. Martha crouched beside the little girl in line, studying her for unusual cuts and bruises. 

Once they got to the register, Martha ordered for everyone, and the cashier took her cash and gave her a number. She slid back into the booth across from Alfred. Martha set napkins at each of their places at the table, smiling as she did so. “Where are your mommy and daddy, sweetie?” Martha asked. The girl turned her attention to Alfred, and he smiled at her. “I don’t think she understands… Your daddy? Where?” 

The nameless girl turned toward Martha. “She can hear you at least, Martha,” Alfred whispered, dropping the facade of a servant out of concern for Martha’s lack of reaction. “What are we going to do with her?” 

“I don’t know… But I know we’ll have to cut our trip short and make a pit stop at home. I have a good feeling we’re about to add another little bird to our nest,” Martha replied.

[arntyoujustcute]

I belong to the small Sektor girlie population and I was wondering if you would do a second part or another One-shot with Sektor （人´∀`*)

Well, only because you asked so nicely (And I hit writers block on my Bi-Han longfic, so this was nice distraction)

"Me and My Girl"

(Prequel to my other Sektor fic here, Strange Manicure")

Being not just the Lin Kuei’s Master Armorer, but a talented machinist and engineer, one would expect Sektor to see the obvious crush her little assistant had on her.

She was not that intelligent, unfortunately.

Everyone could see it. You followed her everywhere around the clan, waddling after her even when you’re not needed. You say it is because you simply enjoy spending your free time with your superior, and Sektor pays no mind to your habit and doesn't tell you to stop. Sometimes the other engineers in the workshop try to call you over, saying they need your assistance with some random task and you just talk back and say that Sektor requires you more, as you merely hold a flashlight for her as she pokes around an engine. Even the Grandmaster and his brothers are starting to get suspicious of your little game, Kuai Liang and Bi-Han exchanging a look every time they call for Sektor and you come in right next to her. It’s like a supervillain and her ridiculous sidekick; Sektor giving orders to her fellow engineers while you hold everything she needs. It would be cute, if it also wasn’t pathetic.

Sektor has given no clue that she returns your sentiment, and you are centimeters from the breaking point. You never cease with bragging about your commander’s bright mind, and you always have a hot cup of tea prepared for her before she has even asked for it. Barely do you complain when she loses her temper and raises her voice, rarely because of something you did, but because some other fool in the armory has done something to raise her blood pressure. She apologizes each time, citing her growing anger with the Grandmaster’s slowness at approving her new plans for the clan (Bi-Han swears he has grown past his father’s views, but the minute Sektor showed him her ideas for technological advances in biology, he shot her down with ridiculous statements such as “Why would you want to replace parts of your body with robotics?” and “The Lin Kuei has no need for firearms of THAT caliber!”. The world is progressing, and the Lin Kuei will NOT be left behind), and you accept it each time. She is as close to a stubborn narcissist as one could be without reaching the criteria, and hearing her actually, meaningly, say she is sorry is enough to make you ignore her biting words.

After you come to terms with ‘Yes, she can mean but she is also pretty and somehow makes me happy’ and decide to come clean and admit it, the only issue that remains is how to say it. You’ve tried twice now to go up to her and just admit to your crush, but the first time your tongue twisted and the words refused to come out of your throat, and Sektor stared at you strangely until she told you to just speak, making you give up your plan. The second time, Bi-Han called for her presence and made her leave you behind, making you curse your Grandmaster’s name later that night. Now on attempt number three, you are ready.

You think…well, hope, you are ready.

You choose a night where it will just be Sektor in the workshop by herself. You even go so far as to get her flowers, a beautiful bouquet of red roses and baby’s breath, and a new toolkit with a lock because someone has been taking her open-ended and allen wrenches and now she is short three different sizes. You’ve let her borrow yours in the meantime until she puts in an order for replacements, and the barely visible thankfully smirk on her oil covered face sent your heart pounding. Her giving that look to anyone else is enough to make the wild animal in you pace it’s cage and want to tear someone’s head off, and it assures you that you have to come clean, or you might lose your brain in this love.

You poke your head through the door, making sure it really was just Sektor as the armory's lone occupant before you sneak inside. You can see her halfway underneath some recon vehicle, sparking flying from whatever she is welding underneath it, and you stalk closer to the unaware female. You hide the flowers behind some equipment just in case this all goes south and you can have some dignity intact before taking your life out of embarrassment; Sektor has never shown interest in anyone in the time you have known her, and not even before according to some of the more veteran warriors and builders- you are already prepared for her rejection. 

Despite your fear, you are Lin Kuei, and you have been taught that being a coward would get you nothing in life. You grip the new toolkit in your sweaty palms, and walk closer to the woman you’ve been hopelessly pinning months over.

You’ve been assuming she hadn’t noticed your approach with the loud welding gun and being under a car, so you are startled when she turns the machine off and calls your name. Your spine is straight when she rolls out, and you have to control the urge to go over to her and fix her soot speckled hair. She tugs off her safety google and cotton mask, and you want to smile at the oil outline the goggles leave on her face.

“How did you hear me?” You ask, watching Sektor as she lifts herself off the floor. Her work demands a strong figure, and you carefully look away from the little sliver of skin you see on her stomach when she stands.

“I recognized your footsteps.” She reveals nonchalantly, and you physically cannot stop yourself from overthinking about that statement. ‘Recognize? Do I walk that loud? Do my shoes squeak and I've never noticed? Do I walk in tune to something? Oh my Gods does she get mad when I-’

“My time is precious, speak your mind.  My father is expecting me to have this project finished by nightfall.” Sektor breaks you free from your rambling mind. She doesn't look annoyed that you dazed off, and you'll never know how her face looks when she watches you and takes notice of the brand new toolkit in your hands. She is not annoyed by your mind break, not all, it gives her time to look at you unnoticed after all.

“Sorry, it's just…I, well.” You stuttered, sweaty hands fidgeting with the toolkit. The armorer looks at you, tapping her foot against the metal floor. Her work is time sensitive, and as much as she enjoys you, you are pushing it.

“Just, promise not to be mad, and if you don't approve, we can just ignore all of this and each other. I will go back to my own private work, and you don't have to speak with me anymore.” You rush out, each syllable a struggle. Sektor says nothing, making you more nervous, but the tilt of her head is enough of an approval to get you to move.

“First, this is for you.” You walk towards and and hold out the toolbox. Sektor actually looks stunned at the gift, hesitating before taking it. The box is a bright fiery red, and inside all of the tools are a shining silver. Everything will eventually find use in her work, and she blinks up at you.

“You didn't have to do this, I still have that replacement order on backlog but they won't take long to come in.” She says, still processing the gift. This large of a set wasn't inexpensive to get, and she has no idea why you would go out of your way to get her this…unless.

“I wanted to, especially after the others kept taking yours after you told them to stop.” You beam at her. You've been with-well, known her long enough to tell when the engineer is in a good mood, and her wide eyes and lack of stress in her shoulders shows her equivalent of shocked joy. 

“That's not all.” You speak, moving backwards to where you got the flowers hidden. Sektor moves to put the toolbox down and follows, curiosity peaked. You take a deep breath and then another, the thornless rose stems digging into your palms before you give up and turn around, holding out the gift like a bridal bouquet.

Sektor’s eyes widen at the flowers, blinking rapidly like they are an illusion that will disappear.

They are still there, and so are you.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't plan for it to go this far.” You apologize, trying to hide your embarrassed face by looking down at the floor. “I thought if I ignored it, it would go away. Obviously it didn’t work, and now I’m just…well.” You shrug, looking up with wet and pathetic puppy eyes. 

Sektor is quiet, almost lost in thought- the most off guard you have ever seen her. With each second, you lose hope. In your hands, the flowers shake, and you’re about to apologize and run away and bury yourself alive somewhere in the forest. Your shoulders and head fall, but they come back up when Sektor speaks.

“In my office, I have been working on a letter.” She remarked, still looking at the dark red roses and pure white baby's breath bouquet. 

“It's the fifth draft, all of its predecessors not to the level I wanted it to be, not saying what I wanted them to say.” The armorer keeps going, walking towards you. It would be useless to run; Sektor is one of the clan’s best children outside of the Grandmaster’s family, and she would easily catch up to you. You stay still, heart pounding, when she is close enough to touch. You can smell the motor oil on her clothes, and you have grown to love the sting of it in your nose.

"I was about to start another one tonight, but it seems that I can finally rest from my pitiful word working." Sektor muses, and you hold your breath. Please, is she-?

“If you are proposing a relationship between us, I accept.” She answers, smiling happily for once. She hardly ever let the corners of her mouth rise, always emotionless, always hard to read. Here, for you, she is willing to show delight. 

With her more subdued glee, your happiness is a loud burst of sunlight in the workshop. 

“YES!” Laughter bubbling out of your mouth, the flowers are dropped to the floor in favor of running at your new love. Sektor catches you easily, not even stumbling as strong arms go around your waist and pick you up off the floor. You throw your limbs around her shoulders and hips, and one of her hands travels further down to your thigh and provides better support. Her firm grip sends shivers down your spine, her warm fingers gently caressing your leg through your layer of clothing. 

“Calm down, look at the mess you have made already.” Sektor tries to scold, but it comes off insincere with the big grin on her face. The flowers are scattered to the floor, and will need to be picked up before someone else comes in. Her dirty shoulder length hair shakes dirt down to the floor, but you still tuck some of the loose strands behind her ear.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get them in just a moment.” You chirped from your place in her arms. You two look at each, a scene from a romantic film if there ever was one, lost in one another. You had next to no hope of reciprocating, but the letter Sektor spoke of, the hardest project she has ever had the honor of working on and the countless hours she must have spent trying to figure out exactly what to say to you to win your heart makes you want to cry happy tears. She is so perfect.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask sweetly, making the engineer smirk with confidence. “Or is it too soon? I don’t mind wait-”

She silences you with her mouth, leaning forward and capturing your sweet lips with her own. Sektor tastes like coffee covered up with mint, almost like she was always preparing herself for this moment. It’s the best taste you’ve ever had. Your happiness is feelable even now, the armorer able to feel your smile as you lean forward to deepen the kiss. Oil and dirt from her face transfers to your, making it obvious who exactly has been kissing you to everyone. Your legs tighten around her hips, and her hand on your leg slithers forward, groping and searching for a belt to tug free.

Her father’s project might just be a little late, unfortunately. His favorite daughter has found a new toy to study and take apart, and it will take her hours before she is satisfied with her beloved plaything, touching here and tugging there, figuring out what each caress does and what music she can get you to make.

Lucky you.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Erik Destler x HaplessOperaHouseManager!Reader || Excerpt

Plot: You've known about Erik for years- you even know about his home. You don't do anything about him, because... well you wouldn't want to be cruel and put him on the streets. But good god does he not make your kindness easy.

Here you get a stress nosebleed because of him and he takes a moment from the murder and the dramatics to help you out.

Warnings: Nosebleed.

Tagging: @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball , @miss_understood , and @thecourtofgraywaves .

You're just in the middle of yelling at him, chucking all your incident records down on top of his written music to demonstrate just how ridiculously thick the pile is because of his bi-regular murderous outbursts and calling the 'opera ghost' an absolute twat- when you feel a trickling under your nose, on your top lip.

You stop and touch your finger to it. When you bring your hand away and theirs blood, you groan. Aghhh! Of bloody course! Now you're getting nosebleeds!? Goddamni-

Erik emerges from where he was cooped up in a dark corner, hidden from you even in his little sewer home, and before you know it he's completely invaded your space; ignoring or perhaps not giving a damn about your personal comfort. Probably not giving a damn. "What- "

You feel his fingers search your pockets (completely indecent. You suppose you should have expected he would be that way though; coarse and brash. Living in the walls for years will do that to a man), and when he doesn't seem to find what he was looking for he sighs in frustration and then digs into his own coat pockets. Out comes a handkerchief and he twists and folds it quite gracefully (irritatingly gracefully) into a tissue, before forcefully holding your bloody fingers away from your body by the wrist and tipping your head back with his handkerchief-holding hand. "Hold still, Y/N... "

You do as you're told, but you also give him a frustrated, stern look. "Excuse me- " With an eyeroll, Erik carefully holds the fabric up to your nose: laser focused on the blood under nose even in the dim lighting from candles. "... What the hell are you doing?"

You should be more concerned about a man being this close to you- touching you so intimately with gentle but firm hands- but its Erik. So you're not too concerned, for whatever reason. Perhaps because he's not a man, he's an irritation, honestly.

You feel mildly comfortable with him like this. You could call it a work break- as if you got taken hostage by the opera ghost so whoops, you couldn't do any work for a nice block of time.

Yeah, he grabbed me and I couldn't move for 10 minutes. That paperwork got lost in the struggle, I'm afraid- Oh, no, I'm fine. Back to work I suppose!

"I think you might find this is helping... " He mutters, being in such close quarters with you that he doesn't have to speak at full volume, gently pressing the handkerchief against your nose.

"You caused this, you know??"

His eyes flash up from what he's doing, to yours, and you would be startled if you weren't so used to him. Him an his intensity all the time; sudden movements and deep eye contact. You've allowed him to stay in this opera house for years despite the trouble he causes you, because first of all you know he would never leave even if you tried to evict and him and second of all- where would he go, anyway?? You certainly wouldn't put a man out on the streets, even one like Erik.

He takes a deep breath, calming himself. "... I don't mean to hurt you, Y/N."

Rolling your eyes upwards, even as your expression softens the tiniest bit, you sigh. Yes, that's nice, but he knows very well his bullshit effects you so the sentiment is not particularly practical. And in your life, your work which is your life really, the practical is what really matters. "Well you do a good job of it."

"-I mean to hurt everyone else."

Sigh. Here we go. "Yes I know Erik."

"But I-..." Another deep breath. He's not looking you in the eye any longer, rather your nose and his handkerchief, but you're looking at him- and you see his jaw tighten; thinking hard and forcing himself to say things. Non-terrible things. "I regret it if this is truly my fault."

"... it is."

"Then I regret it."

"Do you?"

"Yes, I regret."

"Are you saying that you're sorry??... " You're mind is boggled at the thought of Erik apologising for his actions- but that is certainly how it sounds.

Immediately he tells you 'no, not at all'... before changing his mind a second later. "Perhaps, a small part, towards you. This. I don't intend to-... You've been reasonable, as far as people go. Quite-- reasonable. And I... I do not want my actions to have caused you harm."

You should let that be it. You should let him escape this without abandoning his strict sense of dignity- but you can't help yourself. "-so you're saying sorry??" You insist, tilting your head clockwise ever-so-slightly; curious like a cat.

A deep, frustrated sigh. "I don't believe I said that, but if that's how you wish to interpret my words... " He shrugs nonchalantly, trying to just focus on folding the handkerchief again and pressing a clean part to your nose again. "enjoy."

Rolling your eyes, you finally give a small smile. "Okay I will, Erik,.. "

[pinkrangersarah]

Please do the random headcanons you've got for the Fearless 7, I really wanna know what you have in mind and also feel free to even make a post for every single one of them!

Thank you, I love ya! 🙏🏻

shout out to @kehnarii for sending me all these requests, you are truly a peach and I am delighted to answer anything you send <333

anyway, I have thought about these clowns a ridiculous amount and what better way to dump all those thoughts here because lmaooo what else am I gonna do with them. i'm going to keep them here, though, for simplicity sake.

Merlin

Merlin and Arthur are half brothers, having the same father but different mothers; Merlin's mother is the current queen of Camalot. They're from the same fairy tale but the dynamic is wildly different, so I thought them being half brothers would be kind of a neat spin. Arthur is the oldest of the two.

Had to study magic in some secrecy as the texts he used formerly belonged to Arthur's first step-mother who turned out to be a witch. This is partially why lightning, despite its versatility, is his only spell.

Vegetarian. Nothing else to say here. Just a vibe I get from him.

Bi-curious, I think. Definitely leans toward women, but he'd be lying if he said he hasn't found a man or two attractive.

Shit driver. Do they have cars? Probably not, but consider a modern day setting. He's the worst driver out of the seven of them. Has absolutely stayed at a right-on-red light way too long due to panic, pissing off everyone behind him. This but it's Merlin and Jack.

Decent with kids. Knows a couple of party magic tricks and kids tend to like them.

Arthur

Arthur has a younger half sister, Morgan--or better known as Morgana Le Fay--a witch who is mysteriously absent. She is the king of Camalot's second child from his second wife, which makes her Merlin's older half sister. Arthur was very close to her up until her disappearance; having been raised with a bias toward witches, it made for a rather difficult separation.

Not the dumb jock stereotype some people make him out to be! While he can be reckless, brash, and immature, Arthur does have political knowledge and knows the ins and outs of his kingdom.

Straighter than Merlin's parking but a very vocal ally. Jack just casually implied he was bi and Arthur just scooped him up in a big hug and told him he would always support him. Jack was high-key confused, low-key annoyed but appreciated the sentiment anyway.

Second worst driver, mostly due to not paying attention to speed limits. Or stop lights. Just not paying attention period. Low-key road rage.

Arthur is great with kids, probably because A) he is a big brother and B) he's a big guy so kids want to climb him like a jungle gym.

Jack

Adopted into royalty as his step-father, a king, married his mother after Jack defeated the Giant and made his family wealthy.

His mother has a tendency to be emotionally manipulative, only being a doting mother whenever he does something that benefits her, such as stealing from and slaying the Giant. She was kinder when his father was alive, but only got nastier after he perished at the hands of the Giant.

Although he had been pampered and brought up as a true prince since ever since his mother married into the royal family (he was about ten years old), there is a part of him that has not forgotten where he came from. He grew up on a farm. His father taught him how to fight. Jack is stronger than he looks and can be scrappy if absolutely need be.

While the other guys of the F7 drive him absolutely insane sometimes, Jack prefers them over his own family since he's allowed to be himself around them. He's gotten used to the princely persona, but there is a small, unacknowledged part of him that kind of hates it due to the role having been practically forced on him.

He does genuinely like nice things, though. Low-key bird brain.

Jack is the only multilingual of the seven, speaking not only English and French but also German and Italian. This is only a little annoying to Hans and the triplets as they can't hide anything from him in their native tongues.

Biologically, Jack is an only child. He does, however, have an older step brother whom he has mixed feelings for.

Bisexual with a leaning toward women

His name actually is "Jacques", but people kept pronouncing it as "Jack" and he eventually gave up correcting them. Will end the bloodline of anyone who calls him "Jackie", though.

Decent driver. Sometimes gets way too into whatever he's listening to and misses an exit or turn. Is usually the navigator or DJ. Is the type to yell "I will turn this car around" if people are arguing in the backseat.

Terrible with kids. The house is on fire. God is dead. Wine aunt.

Hans

Hans and his sister, Gretel, are twins, though Hans is the older of the two. It's where his mom friend demeanor comes from.

Is honestly the best liar out of the seven of them. He doesn't lie often, doesn't like doing so, but he has such an honest face and earnest demeanor that he can make anyone believe just about anything.

Pansexual but I don't think he'd know that about himself. He just likes people.

Best driver out of the seven of them, but does that soccer mom thing if he has to slam on the brakes unexpectedly. Can't read a map to save his life, though.

Also great with kids. He's also a big brother, and his genuinely kind and upbeat nature makes kids gravitate toward him.

Pino, Noki, & Kio

As they all have a very similar fashion sense, even they sometimes aren't sure whose clothes are whose.

They do have distinguishing features if one is to look close enough. The height difference isn't much, but it is there with Pino and Kio being the tallest and Noki the shortest. Kio is the only one with freckles. Pino has heterochromia with one blue eye and one brown.

They are introduced from oldest to youngest. Pino is the oldest of the triplets, Noki being the middle and Kio the youngest. Noki is only a little salty that Kio is taller than him despite being younger.

kio vc: you're older by like eight minutes

noki vc: I will break your knee caps

Terrible liars. They get flustered quickly and contradict one another. Can't keep a secret to save their lives and it's usually Kio who breaks first. (I know this is sort of contradictory, but they're based off Pinocchio so I think it'd be fitting if they were some of the worst liars among the seven of them.)

Noki read Jack's trashy romance novels. He thinks they're hilariously terrible. Would honestly probably like Twilight for the same reason.

Decent drivers but cannot be left in any vehicle alone together. If there's no else there to keep them on track, they will get way too into a conversation and get completely lost.

Have the potential to be okay with kids (that ending credit sequence give some the impression those three kids were low-key adopted by them or at least became assistants or something), but they do need to be kept in check due to their mad scientist energies.

[beefromanoff]

Tempting Fate Ch. 7

summary: Evie goes to dinner with Steve, but leaves with someone else.

author's note: another chapter, WOO! thank you for the love! I'm writing away here so expect more soon!

masterlist

tag list: tag list: @yiiiikesmish @sunflower1290 @barnescamboy @thedisc0spider @bitchy-bi-trash @kulteule @kandis-mom @i-mushi @unknown-writings @jainaeatsstars @mcira @brooklynbear32

Friday Night | Evie’s Apartment

Evie was on her second glass of wine and her fourth ignored call from Jade when she finally caved and answered. She barely had the phone to her ear before Jade’s exasperated voice filled the speaker.

“Okay, what is your deal? You’re about to go on a deal with Steve Rogers and you’re acting like me about to go to dinner with my parents.”

Evie exhaled, stalling as she swirled the wine in her glass. “I don’t have a deal, and it’s not a date”

Jade snorted. “You clearly have a deal. What are you wearing?”

“A red midi-length dress with the high back and low neckline,” She toyed with the silk hem as she spoke.

“Oh. Right. For your non-date.” Jade’s scoff was incredulous. “So are you going to tell me what the hell your problem is? Clearly you’re dressed to make an impression, he asked you out, and this time last week you were all ‘super soldier’ mania. What gives? Is it because you only get one tonight? Because if that’s the case, you’re just being greedy.”

Evie twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers as Jade spoke, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked… different. It wasn’t just the makeup or the outfit—it was something in her eyes. The lack of her usual carefree glint? The missing mischievous grin? The slight furrow to her brow that gave away her nerves, something she was not accustomed to seeing.

She exhaled. “I don’t know. Tonight just feels…” She trailed off, searching for the right words, willing them to come but finding nothing that quite fit.

Jade pounced immediately. “Different?”

Evie groaned. “Yes.”

Jade gasped like she had just uncovered the scandal of the century. “Oh my God. You actually like him.”

Evie scowled. “Jade.”

Jade ignored her completely. “This isn’t just some little fun thing for you anymore, is it? Damn, I thought this would happen eventually, but in less than two weeks? You’re more of a lovergirl than I thought, Eves.”

Evie drained the rest of her wine in one unceremonious gulp. “Ugh, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jade cackled, full and wicked. “Oh, babe. You are so screwed. It’s one thing to want one of them in your bed, two was a little ambitious but you’ve always been a go-getter so I let it slide. Now you’re telling me you’ve already caught feelings?”

Evie rubbed her temples, already regretting answering the phone. “Why do I tell you things?”

Jade sighed dramatically. “Because if you didn’t you’d have too many things swirling around in your genius brain and it would probably combust.”

Evie rolled her eyes, but a small smile crept in despite herself. “Alright, prophet of doom, should I be concerned?”

Jade, suddenly serious, replied smoothly, “Only if you’re not willing to admit it to yourself.”

Evie paused, the words settling uncomfortably in her chest. There was something about the way Jade said it—so sure, so simple—that made it sound…easy. Possible.

Then, before she could process that entirely too real statement—her doorman’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“Miss Evie, you have a visitor.”

Evie’s stomach dropped. She swallowed. Then, after a long second—

“Send him up.”

Jade screamed. Evie hung up.

____

When the knock came, Evie took a deep breath, smoothed the fabric of her dress, and opened the door. And then she promptly forgot how to breathe.

Because Steve Rogers looked good.

Not just ‘nice sweater and jeans’ good. Not just ‘trademark effortless charm’ good. No. A button-down. A fitted jacket. Shoes that were polished. A vintage watch that probably had more sentimental value than monetary, which made it that much more attractive. It was all intentional. Deliberate.

He had dressed up. He had put in effort. For her. And worse? He looked nervous.

Steve cleared his throat, visibly trying to play it cool. “Hey,” he said, offering a soft smile.

Evie, gripping the doorframe a little tighter than necessary, replied, “Hey.”

Steve’s eyes flickered down—just for a second. A quick sweep, barely there, taking her in. And when he looked back up, he was blushing. Oh, hell.

Evie smirked, trying to shake off the dangerous warmth creeping in. “So. We’re both overdressed.”

Steve, still a little flustered, rubbed the back of his neck. “I—uh—figured I should, you know. Clean up a little.”

Her stomach flipped. Her teasing faltered. Because that was just plain sweet. She swallowed, pulse kicking up despite herself. “Well. You look good.”

Steve smiled, but a little shyly. “So do you.”

The air shifted. It wasn’t just shooting the shit anymore. It wasn’t just playful banter. It wasn’t a game. It was something else. Something real.

Evie was terrified. So she did the only thing she knew how to do. She forced a smirk, grabbed her clutch, and stepped past him. “C’mon, Cap,” she said lightly. “Before this wine starts going to my head and you have to carry me to the car.”

Steve huffed out a quiet laugh, following her down the hall. But Evie could feel it. She wasn’t fooling either of them.

They rode down to the lobby, strode through, and strode toward the front drive where Steve’s car was waiting. Steve held the door open, and when Evie stepped past him, his gaze flickered over her, just for a second—nothing obvious, nothing exaggerated. But she felt it.

Felt the way his eyes softened. Felt the way his breath hitched just slightly before he cleared his throat and took a step forward.

He offered his arm, the movement so natural it didn’t seem like a second thought. “Shall we?”

She slid her hand into the crook of his arm. “Alright, Cap. Let’s see your idea of a good time.” The warmth of him—solid, steady, grounding—sent an unexpected shiver up her spine.

Steve led her to his car, the classic black Jeep that suited him more than she expected. He opened the door for her without a word, the movement so effortless it didn’t feel like some performative act of chivalry—it was just who he was. Evie hesitated again, watching him for just a moment before she slipped inside.

The ride started in comfortable silence. Steve navigated the streets with the same deliberate, calculated ease with which he seemed to approach everything. Evie watched his hands on the wheel—the way his fingers flexed, the way his knuckles shifted when he turned. It was oddly mesmerizing.

She expected herself to break the silence with something teasing, something sarcastic—because wasn’t that what she always did?

But she didn’t. Instead, she found herself saying, “How was your week?”

It wasn’t a deflection. It wasn’t a distraction. It was genuine.

Steve glanced at her, surprised by the question, before shifting his focus back on the road. “Busy,” he admitted after a moment. “Meetings, briefings, training... the usual. Mission weeks are always a little chaotic, even when things go well.”

Evie hummed. “And outside of work?”

Steve exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Not much. I went running with Sam a few mornings, sparred with Bucky...” He hesitated for a fraction of a second before adding, “Had a conversation I wasn’t expecting.”

Evie arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Steve kept his eyes on the road. “With Bucky.”

Something in his tone made her sit up a little straighter. “About?”

Steve’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly, like he was debating what to say. Finally, he let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “He called me out, basically.”

Evie tilted her head, intrigued. “Called you out how?”

Steve hesitated again. Then, with something careful in his voice, he said, “He asked me why I asked you to dinner.”

Evie’s breath caught, just for a second. She forced her voice to stay light. “And what did you say?”

Steve glanced at her, just briefly, before turning his attention back to the road. “The truth.” He didn’t elaborate. Didn’t offer more.

And for once, Evie didn’t press. Because something about the way he said it—the quiet certainty in his voice, the way he didn’t rush to explain himself—unsettled her in a way she wasn’t prepared for. It made her pulse pick up. It made her want to be worthy of that truth.

She swallowed, looking out the window, trying to shake off the warmth creeping into her chest. “Well,” she said after a beat, trying to ground herself. “I’m glad you did. Ask me to dinner, that is.”

Steve smiled, soft but sure. “Me too.”

Steve had picked the perfect place.

An old-school Italian restaurant, tucked away from the main streets, nestled between historic brick buildings. The kind of place that didn’t need flashy signs or modern gimmicks to draw people in—because the food, the atmosphere, the history spoke for itself.

Warm lighting glowed from the sconces lining the walls, casting a golden hue over dark wood tables draped in crisp white linens. The air was thick with the scent of simmering garlic, fresh basil, and something rich and slow-cooked, the kind of meal that had been perfected over generations. The low murmur of conversation filled the space, punctuated only by the gentle clink of glasses and silverware. A few heads turned when they walked in, and before Evie could flatter herself thinking her dress was doing her favors, one older gentleman gave a salute. Right, I’m here with Captain America.

Thankfully, all of the patrons were considerate enough to turn back to their conversations, giving them the gift of privacy as the hostess escorted them to a table in the back. The buzz of the restaurant was still there, enough to mask their conversation from nearby tables, but not enough to drown it out from each other. And beneath it all, Sinatra crooned softly from an old jukebox in the corner, his voice warm and smooth, weaving effortlessly through the air.

It was quiet. Romantic.

Steve sat across from her, looking so at ease in this setting that Evie couldn’t help but smirk.

“This feels exactly like the kind of place you’d pick,” she teased, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hands. “Classic. Refined. Very proper gentleman of you.”

Steve gave a small chuckle, shaking his head. “I wasn’t aware picking a restaurant made me proper. You said you liked Italian. I asked around.”

Evie swallowed the teasing remark she had queued up and tilted her head. “You remembered.”

“I’m not a bad listener.” His smile was soft, eyes warm.

She bit the inside of her cheek, studying him. “Good to know,” she mused. “Remind me to censor myself a little bit more.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m starting to think you think I’m boring.”

Evie pretended to consider it, eyes flickering toward him playfully. “Not boring. Just… polite.”

Steve lifted a brow, feigning mild offense. “Says the woman who orders the same coffee every morning, from the same place, and tips with a twenty-dollar bill every time.”

Evie stilled for half a second, caught off guard. “How do you—”

He shrugged. “I pay attention.”

Her stomach flipped. Had he followed her?

Seeming to read the confusion on her face, he chuckled. “Don’t freak out, that sounded more ominous than it is. When you gave me that coffee, Sam gave me a hard time for thinking it was good. Something about ‘real men are supposed to drink black coffee’.”

“Quite antiquated,” Evie commented, waiting for the rest.

“Right,” Steve agreed. “I recognized the logo on the cup from the place around the block. So Sam and I went, we ordered another one and when he went to put a few bucks in the tip jar, we saw a twenty dollar bill on top. I called him cheap, you know, giving him a hard time,” His eyes flicked to her as he justified his joke.

“Right, naturally,” She was amused now.

“But the barista noticed and laughed, said there’s been a girl that comes in here every morning, orders the same thing we did, and always tips with a twenty dollar bill. Said she wanted to ‘have it like that one day’. I asked if she happened to have red hair,” His eyes met hers. “The barista said yes.”

Evie bit her lip, fidgeting with her napkin. “Well, surely I’m not the only redhead in Manhattan.”

He ignored her obvious bluff. “Why do you tip so much?”

Evie sighed. Too personal, too fast. She itched to change the subject, ​​but the way Steve was watching her—curious, patient, not at all judgemental—made her hesitate. He actually wanted to know. That threw her off completely.

She shifted slightly in her seat, fingers smoothing over the linen napkin. “Because… I make more money than I could ever hope to spend. I have residuals coming in from patents I filed years ago. My family is set for life. I’m set for life.” She shrugged, voice breezy, but her fingers still toying with the edge of the napkin betrayed her. “Some people aren’t.”

Steve’s eyes crinkled slightly, his gaze unwavering. The candlelight flickered between them, catching the blue of his eyes in a way that made her pulse kick up. He didn’t say anything right away. Didn’t offer praise, didn’t make some grand declaration about how noble that was. He just took her in, his jaw shifting slightly, his fingers trailing along the rim of his wine glass in slow, thoughtful circles.

And damn it, that was worse. Because Evie wasn’t looking for applause. She didn’t need a round of thanks for doing something small, something natural, something she had the means to do. But the way Steve was looking at her? Like he was really seeing her—like he was filing this piece of her away, tucking it somewhere important—that made her squirm.

She shifted in her seat, clearing her throat. “Well, Rogers,” she teased, forcing a smirk, “Congratulations. You cracked the case.”

Steve’s lips twitched in a half smile. Mercifully, the server joined them at that moment, launching into her speech about the wine selection. It was all Evie could do to tear her eyes from Steve’s and feign interest.

The conversation flowed from there—easily, effortlessly. They talked about work, about Tony’s latest antics, about Sam’s very unsubtle attempts to play matchmaker with anyone and everyone. Somewhere in the middle of it, somewhere between a lingering glance over the rim of his wine glass and his quiet, amused chuckle when she called him out for polishing off his plate like an overachiever, she realized—

She really, really liked him.

It was a stupid realization. A reckless, dangerous one. But it was also undeniable.

The warmth of the wine, the candlelight, the way he looked at her when she spoke—Evie felt herself soften, ease into the absolute and terrifying comfort of him.

Evie was too comfortable.

That was the problem.

The candlelight, the wine, the way Steve’s voice wrapped around her like something warm and steady—it was too much.The terrifying, sinking realization that she really liked him had settled in her chest, and if she sat with it for even a second longer, she was going to do something reckless.

So she did what she always did.

She changed the subject.

“Let’s play a game.”

Steve blinked, caught mid-sip of his wine. “A game?”

Evie leaned forward, smirking just enough to cover up the way her pulse was racing. “Yeah. A game. Three questions each. Drink if the answer is yes. Don’t drink if it’s no.”

Steve huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “So this is like Never Have I Ever?”

Evie grinned. “Look who’s not so out-of-date after all.”

Steve leaned back in his chair, watching her, clearly debating whether or not to entertain this. But Evie knew him well enough now to see it—the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, the telltale sign that he was already in.

“Alright,” he said, swirling his wine. “Go ahead, Langston. Ask away.”

Evie tapped a finger against her glass, pretending to think. “Let’s start easy.” She lifted a brow. “You ever broken the law?”

Steve exhaled, amused, and immediately took a sip.

Evie gasped. “Captain America! I am shocked.”

Steve smirked, setting his glass down. “Really?”

Evie snorted. “No.” She tilted her head. “Your turn.”

Steve studied her for a beat, blue eyes sharp and considering. Then—too casually—“Have you ever been in love?”

Evie stilled. Her fingers curled slightly against her glass. For a split second, she raced through her own past. She thought about the almosts and the maybes and the what-could-have-beens. Then, deliberately, she let go of the glass without raising it.

Steve’s expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze flickered. He tilted his head, just slightly. “Interesting.”

Evie forced a smirk. “Maybe I’m just not the ‘falling in love’ type.”

Steve’s lips quirked like he didn’t quite believe her, but he let it go. “Your turn.”

Evie tapped a nail against the stem of her glass. “You ever had a one-night stand?”

Steve didn’t answer immediately. He hesitated. Then, slowly, he lifted his glass and took a sip.

Evie’s stomach flipped. She hadn’t actually expected him to drink for that one. Her voice came out a little too amused, a little too warm. “And here I was thinking you were all sweet and old-fashioned.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Old-fashioned doesn’t mean inexperienced, Evie.”

Oh, hell. She definitely shouldn’t be this warm. She cleared her throat, shifting in her seat. “Alright, Cap. Your turn.”

Steve hummed, studying her like he was waiting for her to slip up. Then, voice easy, “Have you ever wanted something you knew you shouldn’t?”

Evie knew her answer before he even finished the question. And she knew Steve knew her answer, too. Her pulse kicked up as she lifted her glass, the stem cool beneath her fingers. And then, without breaking eye contact—she drank.

The air between them changed.

Steve’s grip on his glass tightened slightly, his jaw shifting just a fraction as he watched her. He didn’t press, didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. Because the way he was looking at her said he was thinking the exact same thing. Evie, suddenly too warm, sat back in her chair, hoping the flush creeping up her neck wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

“Your turn,” she said, a little too casually. After pausing, she asked, “Have you ever been in love before?” She already knew the answer. She just wanted, needed, to see it. Evie’s breath caught, just for a second.

Steve lifted his glass—slow, deliberate. And as Evie watched him drink, something in her stomach tightened, But this time, there was something different in his eyes. Something almost… regretful. Like drinking to this wasn’t something he wanted to do. Like admitting it meant something.

Evie swallowed, and before she could analyze it, before she could let the moment get too heavy—She smirked. “Okay. Your turn. Last one. Make it count.”

Steve’s fingers tapped lightly against the table, his expression thoughtful. Then, softly, he asked, “What would make you happy?”

Evie’s breath caught. It wasn’t just a question. It was personal and made her really think. She shouldn’t be surprised, what the hell question was she expecting from him? ‘What color is your underwear?’

Her first instinct was to dodge, to say something easy, something light. But Steve was looking at her—really looking at her in the way that only he seemed to do—and for once, she didn’t feel the need to deflect.

She exhaled, swirling the last bit of wine in her glass. “I think…” She hesitated, just for a second. Then, quietly, honestly, she said, “Feeling understood would make me happy.”

Steve’s brows pulled slightly, but he didn’t speak. He just listened.

“My whole life, people have liked me. Respected me. Wanted things from me. But they’ve never understood me.” Evie’s voice was steady, measured. “Even my parents. They’ve always loved me, supported me—but they never quite knew what to do with me. I was always ten steps ahead of kids my age, always thinking about things that didn’t interest them, always looking for more. I thought maybe, when I got to MIT, I’d finally find my people. That there’d be someone who got me.”

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “But I was just competition. Just the girl who set the curve. And when I started my career? I became the girl with the ideas people wanted, the one they wanted on their team. And dating? That’s a joke. Men see the version of me they want—fun, confident, pretty—but they don’t want the rest of me. They want my brain at cocktail parties for their law firm to impress the partners, but they don’t want it when I’m up at two in the morning because I had a dream about a new kind of schematic I want to design.” Her gaze was distant in a way that told Steve her examples weren’t hypothetical.

He was still watching her, quiet and unreadable. Taking it in.

Evie ran her thumb along the base of her glass, shrugging slightly. “Tony gets it. Not all of it, but enough. He knows what it’s like to have people want what you can produce, not who you are. And Jade—my best friend, she sees me, completely, and she stays. That makes me happy.” She paused, tilting her head, her voice softer now. “I want more of that.”

The weight of her own admission settled between them. Steve didn’t look away. Didn’t rush to fill the space with easy words. He just sat with it. Then, quietly—so quietly she almost didn’t hear it—he murmured, “I get it.”

Evie’s stomach flipped. She wanted to ask—Do you? But she already knew the answer. Because when she looked at him, at the way his eyes softened in that rare, rare way—she saw it. He did.

She hit her quota of personal confessions and shifted, sitting up straight as if the intimacy of the previous question would roll off of her. “I have a bonus question.”

Steve exhaled, shaking his head with an amused grin. “That’s not how the game works, Evie.”

“Yeah, well, I make the rules.”

Steve’s grin softened, his eyes still holding something unreadable as he rested an arm on the table. “Alright. What’s your question?”

Evie leaned forward, propping her chin in her hand. Then, pulling her sweetest doe-eyed look—

“Do you like my dress?”

For a second, Steve just looked at her. And not in the way he usually did. No, this was slower. He let his gaze drift—from the plunging neckline, to the way the deep red fabric clung to her, to the way her lips curled in anticipation. Then, without looking away—

He lifted his glass. And completely emptied it.

Evie’s stomach plummeted. Because that was more than the reaction she expected. That was not Steve being careful or respectful or playing it safe. That was something else entirely. Something bold, brazen, hungry, and unapologetic.

Her head was spinning now, warmth curling in her chest. She was already too far gone and she simply didn’t give a shit because Steve was taking her home. And if she reached for him, she knew—knew—he wouldn’t let go. 

She was still buzzing as he paid the bill, tipped generously, and held his arm out to escort her out of the restaurant. Her skin was warm, her stomach light, the evening air crisp enough to make her keenly aware of the wine humming in her veins.

Steve was right there, solid and warm beside her, and she was already picturing it—the easy silence of the car ride back, the low rumble of the engine, the way his hand might settle on the gear shift between them, close enough to touch. She was more than ready for it.

She stepped into the valet circle and saw…Bucky?

Leaning against a blacked-out, ridiculously nice truck. Hands in his jacket pockets. Expression unreadable. Waiting.

The air shifted instantly, the comfortable ease of the night snapping like a rubber band stretched too far. Evie’s stomach plummeted as her brain, foggy from the wine and the moment, tried to piece it together.

Steve sighed beside her, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, so… about that ride home.”

Evie’s fingers tightened around her clutch as she snapped her head to look at him.

Steve, looking a little sheepish now, admitted, “Bucky and I—uh—made a deal.”

A deal. Evie blinked, head still spinning, trying to grasp what he was saying.

Steve winced slightly. “The Friday pact. We thought, it would be fair if we—”

She didn’t even hear the rest. She was already fuming. The tension coiling in her stomach had no outlet now that her time with Steve had unexpectedly been cut short, and she felt it manifesting in anger as her eyes narrowed on the ghost of a smirk on Bucky’s face.

The weight of his stare knotted her stomach, igniting something hot, sharp, and completely uninvited. Her pulse jumped. A second ago, she had been melting into Steve, her heart too soft, her body too warm, her mind drunk on the slow unraveling of the night.

Now? Now she felt sober. Sober, and off balance. And angry.

Steve cleared his throat. “Evie…are you okay with this?”

Evie snapped out of it, plastering on a too-bright smile. “I’m great. I just didn’t realize shift change happened after dinner.”

Steve exhaled, eyes pleading. It was clear he was as frustrated as she was, maybe even more, but she didn’t care. This was half his fault. “Evie—”

But she was already turning, heels clicking against the pavement, heading straight for Bucky. The second she was close enough, she snarled.

“Tell me, Barnes,” she tilted her head, crossing her arms. “Do I get a say in which one of you gets custody of me, or did you just plan to pass me off like a goddamn relay baton?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. His voice was calm, even. “You could just say thank you for the ride.”

Evie let out a sharp laugh, one that wasn’t quite as controlled as she wanted. “Oh, right. Where are my manners? Thank you so much for interrupting my evening, deciding where I go, and making deals about me without me.”

Bucky leaned in, just slightly, voice low, words measured. “You finished dinner, didn’t you?”

Evie’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your point?”

Bucky’s mouth curved—just barely. “My point is, I didn’t interrupt anything. You’re here. The night’s not over.”

Oh, he was insufferable. The part of her that previously thought he was mysterious and handsome now wanted to scream in his stupid, stoic face. Evie exhaled through her nose, too aware of the heat licking at the base of her spine, too aware of the way her skin prickled under his stare.

The worst part? She didn’t even know if she was mad at him for ruining her night. She wasn’t even sure if it was ruined at all. 

She stepped past him, yanking open the passenger door a little too forcefully. “Fine. Whatever.” She climbed in, slamming the door shut behind her and crossing her arms, refusing to look at him or Steve, still lingering by the valet as the fallout unfolded. Bucky didn’t move right away.

For a second, she thought—hoped—he’d let it go. Let her get back out and finish the evening with Steve. Except, is that really what she hoped for? Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she tried to sort through her thoughts. She was angry. At Bucky? For interrupting the night she felt was so strongly going perfectly? Or for choosing not to be involved in their plans at all, but crashing them at the end? Maybe it was Steve she was mad at. For luring her in with soft eyes and easy charm, coaxing her into letting her guard down, for looking at her across the table all night like he had every intention of seeing his fantasies through later that night. All while knowing he wasn’t the one taking her home. 

Ultimately, she was mad at herself. This was her idea, her pact, her game. She was supposed to be the one writing the script and flipping it whenever she so desired. It was her fault for letting Steve disarm her and her fault for letting her emotions overpower her logic. It was her fault that she was sitting, hot blooded and tightly wound in Bucky Barnes’ passenger seat, knowing she was far from the headspace to make good decisions. Fuck.

Bucky rounded the truck, slid into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. The air between them was stifling, suffocating, and they hadn’t even pulled out of the parking lot yet. Watching her the whole time, Bucky shook his head once—like she was exactly who he thought she was.

He drove without saying a word. Evie stared out the window, arms crossed. The silence stretched and stretched. 

Finally, Bucky muttered, “You’re pissed.”

Evie scoffed. “Wow. Look at that deduction.”

Bucky’s grip on the wheel tightened.

She turned her head toward him now, eyes sharp. “You know, Rogers at least asked me to dinner. You just showed up, uninvited, and you expect the privilege of my company without ever acting like it was something you wanted.”

Bucky spoke slowly. “I didn’t force you into the truck, Evie.”

“No,” she agreed. “You just made a deal. Why ask me what I want when you can just decide?”

Bucky’s jaw flexed. “Would you have said yes if I’d asked?”

Evie paused.

“Steve already asked you to dinner. You already said yes. Would you prefer for me to politely request your time another week from now and wait until then to see if you happen to be free, or if he beat me to the punch again?”

Understanding dawning, she tilted her head, smirking just a little too sweetly. “Careful, Barnes,” she cooed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

Bucky’s fingers curled on the wheel. Then—his voice lower, rougher— “Maybe you don’t know better.”

Evie’s breath caught. There it was. Not playful. Not teasing. Not subtle. Her heart pounded. Instead of backing down, she leaned in slightly, daring him. “Then say it.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered toward her. Dark. Unreadable. And then—just as quickly—he looked away. Focused on the road. Voice clipped, low. “Not gonna play that game with you.”

Evie exhaled sharply, staring at him.

Bucky’s grip on the wheel was tight. Tighter than it needed to be. The weight of everything unsaid filled the cab—heavy, pressing, suffocating.

When she spoke next, her voice was low, gravelly, something barely above a whisper.

“What games would you play with me?”

Bucky’s jaw locked. Silence. The kind that wasn’t empty. The kind that was thick with things neither of them were ready to say, but both hoped the other would. Evie, still watching him carefully, let the pause linger—let the question hang.

Then, quieter this time—deadly precise—

“You weren’t a fan of air hockey.”

She shifted slightly, leaning further across her armrest toward him, not caring that her plunging neckline fell open ever so slightly.

“But you didn’t seem to mind the darts.”

Bucky exhaled slowly.

And fuck.

Fuck.

She was pushing now. Really pushing. Some part of him wanted to let her. Bucky’s eyes flickered toward her. She was watching him, waiting, a challenge in her gaze. Like she was daring him to cross the line she was so very carefully drawing between them.

Bucky did something reckless. He let go of the wheel with one hand. Just for a second. Just long enough to reach over, his fingers barely grazing the inside of her knee.

A simple, light touch. A warning. A reminder.

Evie felt it like a lightning strike. Bucky felt the way she stopped breathing. The way she didn’t pull away. The way she just… waited. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low, almost unreadable.

“Darts is a precision game.”

Evie’s pulse hammered. Bucky’s fingers didn’t move.

“And you?” His thumb brushed against the seam of her dress. “You like precision, don’t you?”

Evie swallowed. She should stop this. She should. But instead? Instead, she didn’t back down—steadily, deliberately—holding his gaze dead-on.

“Only when it counts.”

Bucky’s fingers tightened, just barely.

And fuck. Fuck. This was bad. Because he could see it now. The way her lips parted slightly. The way her breathing had changed, slowed, deepened. The way she was leaning just a little closer—just enough to let him know that if he moved in… she wouldn’t stop him.

The air was scorching now.

Bucky’s fingers ghosted higher on her thigh, just slightly. His voice was still low. Still edged with something dangerous.

“And this?”

Evie’s breath caught.

Bucky’s fingers barely curled, pressing lightly—just enough to remind her that she was the one who started this.

Evie held his gaze.

“Not quite a bullseye,” she murmured. “But you’re getting closer,”

Bucky’s throat worked. His grip on the wheel flexed. Because damn her.

Damn her.

Damn her.

Damn her.

This wasn’t a game anymore. This was a losing battle. So Bucky did the only thing he could do.

He let go.

His hand left her leg and he turned his eyes back to the road. His voice was quiet. Gruff. Final. “We’re almost there.”

Evie let out a slow breath, pressing her lips together. She didn’t push again.

Bucky pulled up to her building and shut off the engine. Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. They just sat there. Silent. Staring straight ahead.

And then—Evie broke it.

Her voice was quiet. Smooth. A statement, not a request. “Steve picked me up at my door.”

Bucky exhaled slowly. Then—still looking ahead, voice unreadable— “Wouldn’t want to mess up my end of the deal.” And with that, he climbed out of the truck.

Evie followed.

They walked across the lobby in silence, both pointedly ignoring the way the doorman's eyes flicked between them. Evie could practically hear the man’s thoughts. Didn’t she leave with a different guy earlier?

But she ignored it. Because there was only one man who mattered right now. Bucky. And the way he was walking beside her like he was barely holding something back.

The elevator doors slid shut behind them. The space was too small. Too quiet. Too charged. Evie pressed her floor button, arms folded across her chest. Bucky stood beside her, hands shoved in his pockets, staring straight ahead. Neither of them spoke.

Every second felt like a challenge. The lights above dinged softly as the floors counted up. And still—the tension didn’t break. Not even when the doors finally slid open. Not even when they stepped out together, side by side.

They stopped outside her apartment and Evie turned to him, tilting her head. Bucky held her gaze. Neither of them moved. Neither of them said it. But it was right there. Between them. Something undeniable. Something barely restrained.

Bucky’s eyes flickered down—just for a second, and Evie knew. She knew if she leaned in—even an inch—he’d kiss her. If she said his name the right way—soft, breathless—he’d crumble.

And he knew it, too. Which was why he pulled back. His voice, low, rough. “Goodnight, Evie.”

He turned. Started to leave. But—

“Bucky.”

He froze. His hands clenched. His shoulders tightened. Slowly, he turned back.

Evie tilted her head, innocent. “Could you help me with the back of my dress?”

Bucky stared at her. His expression was absolutely wrecked.

“I can’t reach it.” Her voice was light. Casual. A power move. A challenge.

Bucky exhaled through his nose. Then, silently, he stepped forward. Evie turned, facing the door. Cold metal against her spine. Bucky’s fingers—deliberate, slow—finding the zipper.

Evie’s breath hitched. Bucky’s fingers didn’t shake. Didn’t rush. Didn’t retreat. The zipper slid down, inch by agonizing inch. His knuckles grazed the skin between her shoulder blades.

Evie felt the way her entire body responded, shivering under his touch, despite her desperate attempts to stay composed. Bucky felt it, too. The final inch. Then—a pause. Bucky’s fingers hovered. Like he wasn’t ready to step away. Like he was waiting.

Evie smiled. Soft. Triumphant. Then, without turning around—

“Thank you for the ride.”

And she closed the door.

[bi-sapphics]

found something that was so hilarious to me that i wanted to post and talk about its irony here

linked post in the second screenshot

i find it really funny that radfem/exclus lesbians assume we think like they do and are overly possessive and hostile over our history and culture being cut off from the rest of queerness, which has historically been VERY OPEN.

let me make this clear: most bisexuals online do NOT CARE if monosexuals "take our terms", especially considering the fact that our community overwhelmingly rejects and despises doe/stag and any other alternate replacement terms for butch/femme that we're expected to use.

if some lesbians wish to use these terms instead, if only ironically to spite bisexual butches & femmes who identify that way genuinely after being informed (you tell me who's really using which improperly lmao?), then be my guest. useless presentation labels solely for the aesthetic or whatever seem based enough to me, and also to most normal people who have no intention to gatekeep something that isn't so serious to do so with at the end of the day. i have no intention of giving that power to your pathetic attempt.

i even came across this doe lesbian flag a while back, and have yet to hear of any damage done to bisexual sapphics after our precious term was appropriated and tainted by any who might use it. (/sarcastic)

if anything, i would venture to guess that doe/stag were only coined exclusively back in, what 2016?, because the LGB(T) were under this unfounded ahistorical social contract that each should be kept to their own and sharing in any direction is bad, actually (it's not, never has been). otherwise they wouldn't have even been created in the first place, y'know?

^^^ and i will admit that such reasoning is probably the motivation behind why i wrote this contradictory post more than a couple years ago; and while after re-reading it i do still somewhat stand by my reasoning for the sentiment based on the origin, at the end of the day it just does not matter and it won't destroy the balance of the universe if i can't be bothered to care. the statistical number of bi women & lesbians who use each other's terms is so minimal and unaffecting that this discourse is the only thing even bringing awareness and attention to it.

TL;DR ─ use whichever labels you wish if you like them enough and before you "steal" something to teach a lesson in favor of exclusionism, make sure it isn't from people who have always radically believed that sharing and accepting with the fellow marginalized is a good thing!

alternate TL;DR, as a friend of mine likes to put it: "do whatever you want forever"

[ivorysmokecloud]

𖹭 info + palestine links 𖹭

hi humanity i love you!

this was initially a post with charity links but i decided to add a long ass "about me" so yup

　 　　　　 ✦ general ✦　 　　　　 　 　　　　 　　　　　 　

𖹭 my name is daria, daemon is a pen/online last name! you can use riri/d/di/any other form of my name or just say ivory

𖹭 cis, she/her

𖹭 19 yo (october 05)

𖹭 bi

𖹭 atheist

𖹭 i'm russian (fun fact ethnically 1/4 ukrainian), from moscow and live close to it (utc +3)

𖹭 english is my second language and if you catch me fucking shit up it's because of that

that's my silly ass!! say hi riri

　 ✦ writing and posts ✦ 　 　　 　 　

𖹭 this blog mainly consists of little poems of mine, random thoughts, quotes from the books i read and reblogs of flowers from my feed (yo that rhymes)

𖹭 i do have other stuff i write offline so yeah silly quatrains are not the only thing i do in life

𖹭 i will try my best to remember to put trigger warnings when discussing some sensitive shit but just keep in mind that all kinds of sensitive shit will probably come up here

　 ✦ personal ✦ 　

𖹭 intp

𖹭 leftist

𖹭 f1 fan ( @mintmerc is my f1 sideblog! )

𖹭 gryffinclaw (fuck jk terfling)

𖹭 cabins 6 & 7 (i think??)

𖹭 i'm honestly not deeply involved in fandoms in general but i do know some stuff here and there and i love discovering new things

𖹭 huge yapper (i think you can tell)

𖹭 i left the astrology girlies camp a long time ago, but if you're there - 𖤓♎︎, ☾♓︎, ⇡♋︎

𖹭 also i love building personal connection with my mutuals (= i will annoy the shit out of everyone)

𖹭 but i'm also very introverted so yeah you're either one of the chosen ones and i'll be annoying to you or you're not and then sorry we won't talk. no in between

✦ interactions ✦

𖹭 who i DO NOT hang with

1. any oppressive (trans/homo/islamophobic, sexist/racist, zionist, etc) sentiment is very unwelcomed here

2. right-wing (conservative or pro-capitalist in any way) sentiment is very unwelcomed as well

everyone else - i love you and you're welcomed here

✦ my ever-growing tag list ✦

this is here for me also i'm probably the only one who understands what's going on here anyway

#poetry ; #anything but writing ; #selected ; #face ririveal ; #home ; #mooties my beloved ; #i kinda like this one ; #riri core ; #love love love ; #i hate capitalism ; #my circus my monkeys

𖹭 that's it kids! here's a post with links that i really wanted to keep in my pinned comment. free palestine!! 𖹭

[iamamythologicalcreature]

Six Sentence Sunday/Creative Proof of Life

Thanks for the tags, @alexalexinii, @shrekgogurt, and @that-disabled-princess!

This WIP post is basically a proof of life statement. I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted Chapter 1 of the Haunting of Simon Snow. I'm so overdue for chapter 2, BUT... instead I finished writing the rough draft. I've been attempting to outline, because when I rough a draft, I really rough it up. Ahem.

So I have been working on it, even if there is zero evidence on AO3 as of yet.

How about some sentences? I haven't sliced up chapters yet, so not sure if this is from chapter two or three, but here's a snippet of Simon on the phone with Penny expressing some smooshy sentiments:

I curl up on the couch a bit more, maneuvering myself so my wings aren’t crushed. “I went flying last night,” I confess then, in quiet tones. Like someone might hear me. “You— Oh, but… You can’t! What if someone sees you?” I can actually hear her biting her lip. She wants to spell my problems away, and she can’t. “But I can,” I say, smiling a bit more. “There’s no one around for acres. No one will even willingly drive here on account of the house being haunted. It’s empty. And I’m flying at night.” I say flying in the present tense and realize I fully intend to fly again tonight.

Penny huffs. Her specialty. “I don’t like it.” “I do,” I say easily, warming up to explaining, hoping she’ll understand. “It’s so freeing, Pen. Like the weight of the world can’t hold me down, anymore. I feel… It’s like… It’s like I’m closer to the stars. Like I’m close to stirring up the milky way.” I let out a sigh, my eyes closing as I drop my head back, indulging in that recent memory. “I don’t hate it as much, when I’m up there. You know?” There’s a few seconds of silence, and I open my eyes again. “Pen?” “Hate what?” she asks quietly.

(just in case you were worried I wouldn't be including angst...)

Bit more info on my progress (maybe some whinging) and tags and hellos below the cut!

Fun facts about my ineffecient writing process:

I spent more than one or two hours clearing asterisks from my rough draft this morning. (Because discord has trained me to do *this* when I write instead of this.) Because I'm trying to listen to my draft via screen readers, but it keeps sounding like "asterisk-impossible-star-fuck me" (that's my favorite one honestly, it's supposed to read "Impossible. Fuck me.") which is really annoying (more often than amusing). ANYWAY… what this has revealed to me is that I use "Fuck" a lot, as well as "So good." Ahem. Take from that what you will.

BTW, I'm sure there's an easier way to do that than manually. Please don't tell me for at least a few days, or I might lose it. I am but a mortal being, with a tattered heart and patience worn thin. (Or something.)

OKAY. It's been awhile since I did one of these posts. Time really flies. Gonna give this list my best shot, but as always, open to any who want to participate! (Also adding some new names in for the new year so this is sort of my "Gee I hope this is cool with you" super long tag list. If you'd rather not be tagged, just drop me a missive to that effect!)

@leithillustration @prettygoododds @rimeswithpurple @artsyunderstudy @blackberrysummerblog @hushed-chorus @nightimedreamersworld @best--dress @whatevertheweather @ileadacharmedlife @scribble-tier @imagineacoolusername @brilla-brilla-estrellita @alleycat0306 @angelsfalling16 @fatalfangirl @erzbethluna @tender-ministrations @anxious-m3ss @ebbpettier @bubble-gumhead @facewithoutheart @bazzybelle @theimpossibledemon @aristocratic-otter @mooncello @cutestkilla @annabellelux @ic3-que3n @j-nipper-95 @letraspal @messofthejess @onepintobean @palimpsessed @raenestee @supercutedinosaurs @theearlgreymage @thewholelemon @wellbelesbian @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @bookish-bogwitch @martsonmars @orange-peony @mostlymaudlin @stardustasincocaine @confused-bi-queer

Lastly, quick note/question. Tumblr seems to be remiss in informing me when I've been tagged in other posts. Is this a common issue?