#recluse is just the grumpy type of old

[sage0ftruth]

sagerecluse dyanmic (recluse is the one with the rickety old cane)

[trillscienceofficer]

For the ask game: 🕯️🍬🏜️

Thank you so much!!

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? I don't really enjoy it because I know I'm mediocre at it, let's say a 6/10. I try to do my own copy-editing and I rewrite parts that don't “flow” well but I've never actually done a serious rewrite or retool of a story. Even at copy-editing I'm not that good due to my level of proficiency in (American) English, and I keep catching typos and grammar mistakes years after posting a fic. This is certainly another area where I can improve and learn to like the process more. I definitely would benefit from some accurate feedback about what to improve in my writing as well.

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character I don't even know if I have unpopular takes in me that wouldn't like... label me an inveterate misandrist or simply just an annoying broken record. I feel like I have very few things to say that haven't already been repeated a thousand times. Anyway, not about a single character but a general trend: I can tell when people ship Kira and Jadzia (or even Seven and B'Elanna, though obviously it happens less) as a sort symbolical gesture of acknowledgment that these characters exist but with no real interest in considering how these characters fit together. Putting them in a colorful box to gather dust of trite sentiment and ill-fitting memes while only actually playing creatively with the real interesting stuff (men). I really don't like this attitude, and I know I am being deliberately unkind towards people who do this maybe without realizing it, because I'm putting a lot of pressure on people to enjoy the same dynamics I do with a certain amount of intensity. Lack of openness to multiple perspectives and attempts to tackle the things I love is never a good thing, but this... superficial, token approach towards women and femslash is very very old (it would've been called “Eating your veggies” fifteen years ago) and something I've seen happening for more than a decade myself. So I'm tired of it. I don't care to see it. I've grown extremely selective in my fandom participation, only choosing to be in places where I know I won't encounter it. I don't know how to be less disillusioned or distrustful anymore, and I know I'm losing out on a lot of meaningful interactions by being this closed off. I'm still sorting out how to deal with this friction in a less... reclusive way. Anyway, sorry for the personal rant.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? With the caveat that I certainly do not expect this kind of comment, I love when a commenter tells me what they think my fic accomplished by doing a bit of text analysis about it. I've been lucky enough to receive a number of these comments, and I cherish them all immensely. But above all I think I value honest, clear-eyed appraisals, no matter the form they come in. There's nothing quite like knowing that intelligent readers have taken the time to let me know that they read my work. It's the kind of generosity in fandom that keeps me around no matter how grumpy about it I get.

[llondonfog]

my one Very Specific Malleus Headcanon, stretched into a proper few paragraphs with the aid of backstory:

diasomnia's dorm building reminds me heavily of the background art used in the first scooby doo series—that is to say, it's old, isolated, and cool-toned.

the heavy blues of scooby doo tend to add to the isolation in a very specific way—they lack warmth, making the location seem colder, less welcoming, and (sometimes) deserted. because i was already used to this, when seeing diasomnia for the first time, my brain connected the similar shapes and heavy cool-tones to make it the coldest dorm location in my mind. (sorry, sebek)

this fed into a very unintentional headcanon i have for malleus. it's the only one i always keep at the back of my mind, whether going through the story or writing my own fics. i like the idea of malleus being a physically cold individual. his skin chilled, unnaturally pale with a green or blue tinge, and generally giving off the air of a walking corpse. reanimated, if you will, despite having lived for centuries.

however, he can breathe fire.

it's a fact mentioned so rarely that it tends to fall into the same category as "could be real, could be a joke," but given that he is a dragon...

while we could go with cold flames for a more fantastical touch, i prefer them to be warm—so warm, in fact, that you can feel them through his skin. his flames are breathed, much like most dragons, meaning they come out of his mouth. they start deeper in, most likely in his stomach, then come up through his throat.

for that reason, i like to think that malleus' skin is deathly cold in all places that do not have fire beneath them. his stomach would be warmer, as well as his throat and mouth. it seperates him from the (mostly) human population on campus just that little bit more, in a way that is wholly unique to him.

(and i did include this in the smut i promised in exchange for his birthday SSR coming home.)

FIRST OF ALL!! i typically don't read character x reader fics at all in any fandom, but i have to confess,,,, i kept coming back to this one ever since you sent it to me and feeling Some Type of Way about it. i feel like you've opened my eyes to this vulnerable and yielding side of malleus and. well. it was a nice comfort to get through the tedium and stress of the week, i must say :')

(it also didn't hurt that i thoroughly enjoyed the voice behind your writing and the imagery it provided)

BUT BACK TO YOUR HEADCANON—

i've never made the connection between the scooby doo haunted house and the color scheme/architectural choices of the diasomnia dorm castle!! i actually really love that gloomy, rainy melancholy vibe they've created, it makes me want to curl up with a warm mug and a cozy blanket while it storms outside. and it fits so perfectly with the stereotype of the rest of the school that diasomnia is the most reclusive and insular group— the cold and dreary atmosphere coupled with the foreboding thorny path certainly doesn't win any welcoming points, but i digress.

(also i have to laugh at the sebek comment considering his family is originally from sunset savanna iirc?? which makes me wonder what on earth could have driven them to briar valley with its cold and rugged climate— did they leave due to human/fae conflicts and fled to seek the protection of their own kind? i know its besides the point but i do find it kind of funny if the reason for sebek's/baul's brusque grumpiness is that they're irritated at always being cold ajlfd;aksf)

with respect to malleus though, i absolutely buy into that concept!! your description of his skin reminds me a lot of the rusalka water fae who had the appearance of a drowned person with dark, almost greenish-tinged hair, which makes the contrast of his flames all the more enticing. i just really love stark comparisons between two completely opposite concepts, and the idea that malleus is the coldest, most corpse-like creature stalking the campus, and yet somehow also harbors a super-heated firepit within his chest if you're favored enough to be snuggled within his icebox arms is so delightful to me :')

(i kind of also want his scales to glow a deep, dark green when he's about to expel flames, is that too cliche of me—)

[hirazuki]

I don't know anything about ffxiv but I think you should tell me about your ffxiv blorbos, meow meows, etc anyway :3

Omfg, you know not what you do. Don’t enable me like this XD

I will include explanations for context for your benefit!

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most):

Zenos - basically Lotor, if the abuse had rendered him completely apathetic to life and incapable of feeling things and the only joy he ever found was in brief moments during combat with equally matched opponents

Emet Selch - grumpy theatrical grandfather (he’s actually a great-grandfather) who is honestly responsible for A Lot Of Things of the imperial, genocidal, etc. variety (actually accurately labeled for once!), but in addition to being a very compelling character, his personality and morality are such that, well, I personally can’t really condemn him for anything; I’d be a hypocrite :P

Aymeric - literal fantasy elf prince, precious, reluctant leader, is trapped in his office running his state most of the time, needs to be let out for walks/adventures; extremely competent fighter but also needs to be bubble-wrapped 

Estinien - initially presents as the typically reserved, efficient, deadly, quiet-type, but is actually an awkward social cryptid who has no clue how the real world works

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): 

ZENOS - he’s so earnest and honest and open and his face is So Soft T__T

Vrtra - millennia-old dragon whose baby brother energy hasn’t dissipated at all, to the point that mortals can’t help but adopt him <3

Moogles in general - they’re just so round and soft and aggravating, they drive me to violence

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): 

Sidurgu - basically a dark knight/vigilante type lizard boy, Prickly but Soft™, lots of angst, only appears in the questline for one of the classes you can play 

Foulques - dark elf rival type character, also appears only in a class-specific questline, done dirty (primarily by virtue of his race...) both in the story and by the story and therefore adopted by yours truly

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): 

Hraesvelgr - reclusive dragon with dog features, tragic past, need I say more? XD 

Magnai & Sadu - loud, combat-happy lizard folks who also happen to be hilariously at each other’s throats all the time to the point that it’s a running gag now <3 Both are precious and fun, and I will happily take any amount of screen time with them, either alone or in conjunction with each other

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): 

Zenos - I’m sure you’ve seen me ranting on the bird app, so I won’t go off completely here (just a little, because I can’t help it) but like. UGH. He’s obviously “problematic” with the fandom due to being an antagonist, morally grey, blah blah, the usual, but also his character is so subtly written that -- while I absolutely adore that and eat it up like crazy -- it leads to Disk Horse between people who can actually read his character for what it is and people who just take him at face value as someone who is one dimensional and only “I’m evil, murder good, I like to fight” brainless brawn type of stuff, which is frustrating. Additionally, in terms of context, he doesn’t even really do anything all that bad in comparison to so many other antagonists/villains that get either a free pass or at least some basic understanding/empathy from both characters in-story/the writers and the fandom, but he’s routinely excluded from receiving the same. He’s also a scapegoat a lot of the time, in the sense that things that other characters have done or are responsible for initiating/seeing through, end up getting pinned on him, even though he was either not around at the time they were occurring or he was like... 6 years old lmao. The game mechanics are such that your player character extends a sympathetic ear to literally everyone else, even characters you haven’t known for as long or as well, but the dialogue options presented for Zenos are consistently straight up mean (with two exceptions; one which doesn’t really makes sense to have at that point in the story, given how the story develops? and the other one, comes too late); you don’t even get a chance to treat him neutrally. Your character gets to experience other antagonists’ backstories in-game, but players only know of Zenos’ backstory from extra material outside the game, and he is also routinely excluded from the player character having the chance to actually learn anything about him. There’s such a huge disconnect between what the player character knows vs. what the player knows, and how he is treated by the writing vs. how literally everyone else is treated, and it really tastes like Ye Olde VeeElDee :/ I also see him as the poster kid for abused childhood and ND representation, so on the one hand I guess I should have expected as much, but on the other hand it’s even more like ://////////, especially when the rest of the whole fucking game is written so well. So yeah, lots of controversy here. You’d love it [sarcasm].

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason):

G’raha (nerdy cat boy), Alphinaud & Alisaie (teenage elf twins), Estinien - torment would be harmless and out of fondness, they’re just all very easy to tease 

Lyse (I just can’t give a non-biased description of her, I tried, so you can wiki her if you want lmao) - torment would be real and violent, I can’t stand her

Fandaniel - torment would also be real but of a less severe nature than for Lyse, and not out of hatred but just because I think his buttons would be fun to press :)

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): 

Ywain (guildmaster of the Lancer’s guild, Foulques’ former instructor), Alberic (Estinien’s mentor/adoptive father of sorts), Thordan (Aymeric’s father), Countess Ystride (Rielle’s (Sidurgu’s protege) mother), Varis (Zenos’ father) - abusive parental/mentor figures ahahaha XDD

Lyse - no real reason that I utterly hate her other than she annoys me  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ lmao

[vs-redemption]

I originally gave this idea to someone else awhile ago but I can’t find it anywhere anymore but I do remember it was a nice idea lmao and bc I love your writing I’ll give it to you as well!

Bacon bits Dabi x Polar opposite reader. And I mean this in literally every way possible. Like he’s all black leather, rough and tough and she’s all pink glitter, soft and sweet.

I love you!! - 🐱💕

From Cindy: Hello 🐱anon!!! Thanks for requesting this fun idea. At first I thought this was going to turn out to be kind of goofy, but then it ended up being kind of... sweet? I don’t know. Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy it!

Opposites Attract (Dabi x Polar Opposite! Fem!Reader)

⚠️This story contains some spoilers about Dabi’s past ⚠️

Nobody was more confused about how Dabi had ended up dating someone like you, who was so completely opposite to his personality in every way, than Dabi himself. He knew very well that it made no sense, and logically, everything about you should have grated on his nerves. Somehow though, it didn’t. Somehow, you two worked.

If you were to ask anyone else in the League of Villains, they’d snicker behind their hand before telling you that Dabi had mommy issues. The way you doted on your boyfriend so sweetly would have been nauseating to all of them if it weren’t for the fact that you were just as kind to the rest of them too. You were always quick to rush to their aid whenever you saw one of them looking hurt or upset, while Dabi preferred to make fun of them or just ignore them altogether.

“Are you sure you should even be with Dabi?” Spinner would ask while you checked the bump he’d gotten on his head from driving like a maniac during one of their missions. “You could do so much better.”

Dabi hated whenever they tried to put ideas of leaving him in your head, and sometimes he worried there was truth behind their teasing. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he had “mommy issues,” but your soft and gentle nature did remind him of some of the less terrible times he’d had during his childhood with his sister and mother. That was as far as the similarities went though, and he knew none of the people in his biological family would ever go out wearing hot pink or carry a bedazzled phone case. The one thing he did agree with completely was that you could do better than him, but he was too selfish to ever bring that up.

“Look at this one, Dabi!” you smile while tilting your phone toward him, the light from the screen reflecting off his staples. “It’s so cute.”

Normally, Dabi wouldn’t be caught dead cuddling up in bed while scrolling through Instagram pictures of baby animals and cute latte art, but hearing your excited gasps and giggles calmed him down and kept his mind from drowning itself in the bitter hatred he felt toward the rest of the world. Honestly, Dabi envied your ability to find joy and happiness in such simple things. He hardly cared about anything anymore aside from the burning need to ruin Endeavor and all of hero society in general, so forcing him to spend time doing anything frivolous like that actually helped to keep him grounded in the present.

When you had first started dating Dabi, you’d tried to get him to expand his clothing style a bit to include more colors, but that didn’t work out very well. He’d gotten extremely annoyed when you started showing him some outfits you’d bookmarked on your phone that you wanted him to try, and he had rejected every single one. To get revenge for irritating him, he’d snatched up your phone and started looking up some outfits he’d like to see you try on. Of course they were all black and a couple of them even made you blush in embarrassment, causing him to smirk victoriously.

Even though changing his clothing style ended up being a bust, you had still somehow found ways to spend time together doing something fun you could both enjoy. One of Dabi’s favorite things to do together was dye each other’s hair. He’d been a little nervous at first, letting you in on the secret that his hair wasn’t naturally black, but now he really enjoyed letting you take care of hiding the bright white strands of his roots while he closed his eyes and relaxed under your touch. He returned the favor of course, and made sure to give you a heavenly scalp massage while working the color into your hair.

Another thing Dabi actually liked doing was painting your nails. It had surprised you because he was the one to suggest it first after hearing you make a comment about how difficult it was to paint with your non dominant hand, and how you always messed up the wet paint on the hand you’d already finished. Dabi didn’t mind helping you because it was another thing you could do together that also served as a soothing task that kept his inner demons under control.

“Does it always have to be pink?” he’d ask with a huff every single time.

“Yep!” You’d tell him cheerfully, “but I’ll let you pick the decals this time!”

Usually you made him choose from different types of glitter or rhinestones, but every once in a while you’d let him decorate your nails with little skulls or, when he was feeling especially sassy, blue flame stickers that you’d special ordered online to surprise him.

When Dabi really allowed himself to think about it, he knew exactly why he was dating someone so different from himself. It was because you were the first person to ever keep him around because you wanted him there, not because you needed him. The whole reason he’d even been born was to fulfill his father’s sick fantasy of surpassing All Might, and there was no way the League of Villains would put up with his dark, reclusive behavior if it weren’t for his powerful quirk and dedication to the cause.

At the end of the day, dating Dabi didn’t benefit you in any way. He was mean and grumpy, plus he was a villain which made it hard for him to support you the way a partner should. The only explanation he could think of for you keeping him around was that you truly wanted him to be there, and having someone who could validate his existence like that was something he’d craved since before he’d even been old enough to understand that concept. So, he would endure the snide remarks from other people and sit through as many ridiculous Korean boy band music videos as you wanted if it meant keeping you in his life.

[a5tr0n0m1cal]

We gotta know the new boys personalities now of course! And maybe thier flaws?

I’ll try my best to sum them up!

Dash: He’s a big cheeseball and has a habit of hamming things up and being overly dramatic. And he knows it. Will he stop? No. His sense of style is flashy and over the top but he somehow makes it work for himself. Not only can he dance, but he can also sing too! His singing is just as good as his dancing and he even does a bit of theatre in his spare time! He loves musicals. A big flaw for him would be trying to push people out of their comfort zones. Not in a jerk way to be purposefully mean, but in an overbearing/motherly ‘i want my *insert relationship here* to be the star!’ type of way.

Swivel: When he’s not falling asleep standing up? He’s laughing at stupid memes from years ago. Seriously. He’s like that one relative that you haven’t seen in a long time and when you meet again they expect you to have the same interests/likes as years before. He’s notorious for fake-out high-fives and the ‘there’s something on your shirt’ jokes. He thinks he’s HILARIOUS. He rarely dances and it’s NEVER in front of people. His brother boasts his dancing skills though and it only makes people even more curious. Does being best friends with Cash, Stretch, Red, and Hoodie count as a flaw? A big flaw for him would be giving up way too easily. One small thing could go wrong and he’s already kicking off his shoes and crawling into bed to call it a day. 

Bull: He’s...an interesting guy that’s for sure. You know those guys that think that the fact they have a big truck is super cool and wear boots 24/7? That’s Bull. Bro PLEASE- He’s so annoying before you get to know him. He winks at people all the time and thinks he’s SOOOO sexy. (And to a lot of people he is) but it’s ruined once he opens his mouth 💀 The funny thing tho? Even though he acts like Mr. big tough man he’s the BIGGEST BABY when it comes to his animals. You’ll catch him baby-talking his cows/pigs all the time! His brother hates it 😂 His southern accent is way thicker than Straws’, and he’s got a very deep voice. A big flaw for him would be rushing into things without fully thinking something through. If he thinks up an idea he’s like, “Ok. Sounds good.” and does it without thinking of the consequences.

Crow: He’s the typical grumpy ‘get off my property’ guy. He’s such a recluse it isn’t even funny. All he wants is to keep his farm spick and span and watch his decades-old soap operas. Fun fact about Crow? He got the nickname because the crows will not leave him alone at all. He’s tried EVERYTHING to scare them off, but they still come back. It’s not that they're even interested in his crops, they’re just interested in him. He could be standing outside just minding his business and three crows will fly down and just perch themselves on his shoulders/head. He’s just given up at this point. He’s officially the crow man. A big flaw for him is he never takes time for himself. If you thought Plaid was a workaholic, he’s even worse. He barely leaves any time for resting besides sleep. The only time he ever goes into town is when he needs something from the market. He’s the guy all the little kids in town make up a bunch of stories about when in reality? He’s just a grumpy guy trying to take care of his farm.

[rest-upon-the-morning-light]

JonMartin fic

So I’m trying to get back into fic writing, especially for TMA, and have a multi chapter fic planned but wanted to start with a smaller one shot style fic to warm up. It’s been an age since I’ve written anything, much less something that wasn’t just reader based or smut lmao. I’ve added trigger warnings but if I missed any do let me know! 

Any feedback would be great and if you like this, please send me prompts! Happy to write anything from fluff to smut, just as long as its TMA based :D 

So! Here is my cute fluff JonMartin fic! Enjoy~ 

Everybody Wants To Be A Cat 

Word Count: 2240 

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Animal Abuse, but nothing to graphic. Anxiety. Self Worth Issues. Season 1 Jon being Season 1 Jon. Season 1 Martin being Season 1 Martin.

Fandom: The Magnus Archive

Pairings: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood 

Summary: Martin was certain of two things. One, he had an enormous crush on his boss. Two, his boss hated him. Who knew a one eyed beast of an alley cat would bring them closer?

Martin Blackwood has two problems.

Problem number one. He was absolutely certain he was more than a little bit in love with his boss.

Problem number two. His was absolutely certain said boss hated him.

 Well, hated was probably a strong word. Hated implied that Jon thought of him at all, and it was far more likely that Jon thought of him very little throughout his day. Except, of course, when Martin did something wrong. Then those piercing eyes of his would be solely fixed on him whilst he shouted about how inept Martin was or how stupid his mistake had been.

It hurt, those moments. It hurt that the only time Jon ever truly seemed to see Martin was when he was angry at him. Not when Martin did an amazing follow up on a statement. Not when he’d created a great rapport with a statement giver or their family. Not when he brought Jon tea. Just when he did something wrong.

It was a running theme in this annoyance Martin called his life.

He still couldn’t help these feelings though. Jon was an arse half the time that much was true. It infuriated Tim to know end when Jon would lash out at Martin. “He has no right Martin. Mistake or not he’s your boss, he’s supposed to help you, not act like a massive dick all the time”

It was harder for Tim and Sasha in a way. They’d been Jon’s equal for a long time, working together. Moving to the Archive was always going to be a bit of a challenge. To have friend become boss. Especially for Sasha, who everyone thought was going to be become Head Archivist. But neither had held any real resentment over Jon for the change. After all, it wasn’t his choice, it was Elias’s.

But Jon’s sudden shift from rude but mostly recluse and occasionally friendly colleague to rude very recluse and stick constantly up arse boss was harder than any of them expected.

Martin could understand. It was big position and Jon seemed like the type to take everything he did very seriously. This meant holding everything in the archive to a high standard. His assistance included.

So yes, Jon was awful to him a lot of the time. But he was passionate. He cared. For all his blustering that none of this was real, Martin could see how much he empathised with the people who had given those statements. How he looked like he’d personally failed them when a follow up revealed they had died not longer after they’d come to visit the institute.

His crush probably wasn’t the most healthy but sue him! He liked being a bit in love. He liked having inspiration for his poetry. He enjoyed the fluttery feeling in his stomach when he came into work.

He just wished Jon didn’t quite hate. No. Didn’t quite dislike him so much.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is a cat that has been hiding the alleyway behind the Institute for several days now.

Martin noticed the poor thing when he’d been taking out some rubbish that accumulated in the Archive. Usually that sort of thing wasn’t his job, but he’d been done for the day anyway and he liked to be useful, even if no one really noticed.

It was a mangy young thing. Light brown fur matted, one eye seemed to be damaged and it hissed every time Martin so much as approached it.

He couldn’t just leave it though. Poor thing needed help. It was out here, lonely, forgotten, damaged by the people that probably at one point said they’d love and protect it.

Was he projecting onto a stray cat now? God this was a new level of sad.

So he did what someone in his position did best. He researched.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is a surprising number of places to buy cat supplies near the Institute and the workers in the shop were incredibly helpful with his questions.

Approach slowly. Don’t try to touch or hold the cat. Leave out food and water. He’d also bought a small plastic hut and shoved a warm blanket inside for the large cat. He didn’t know what breed it was. Just that it was grumpy and hurt.

It didn’t take a great deal away from his own funds either. His job paid well enough and he didn’t exactly go out with people very often, buying expensive drinks or tickets to shows.

His special treat was usually some sugar drenched coffee.

He couldn’t see any physical injuries on the cat, apart from its eye, so he put some treats in the hut, left out the food and water, then left.

He came back everyday with more supplies to keep the large growling cat comfortable. Every day that passed the cat came a little bit closer to him. He grinned at that. Hoping one day it would come close enough to pet.

He’d read somewhere that when cats blink, once and slow, it was a sign that they trusted you. Martin waited for that day with bated breath.

Tim and Sasha were a little bit suspicious as to where he was going on his lunch breaks. He told them he just taking a long walk, getting some fresh air away from the dusty old archives but he knew it wasn’t the best lie.

Lying for the sake of his job was one thing. Lying to his friends for no good reason was another.

It wasn’t like he doing anything bad. It was more that he wanted this for himself. He wasn’t even too sure why. Part of him wondered if he was worried the cat would somehow take some natural liking to either one of them or both. He didn’t want to lose all his hard work.

Or, if he was being more honest with himself, he didn’t want the cat to abandon him for someone better.

Yeah. New level of pathetic had been reached.

But one lunch, a few weeks after he’d first spotted the broken but massive feline, that the lying and the ill feeling became absolutely worth it.

Because the cat approached him.

Martin didn’t move a single muscle. He was sat on a small wooden box in the alley. Far enough away as to not frighten the poor thing, but close enough that the cat could make contact if it wanted to.

And today it did.

He held his breath the closer it got, keeping eye contact with its good eye the whole time. It paused for a moment, right in the front of his bent legs, before it let out a small mirp noise and butted its head against his knee.

“Oh hello” Martin laughed, chest feeling lighter than it had in an exceptionally long time.

He reached out his hand slowly to pet its head and let out another sign of relief when the one eyed cat let him.

“Well” he began

“I can’t very well keep calling you cat or beast in my head, you’ll need a name”.

It didn’t acknowledge his words in any way, just continued to let him scratch behind its ears and watched him with its one working eye. He could almost imagine its thoughts.

“Silly Martin, just come up with one already. Stop wasting time”.

He let out a soft chuckle at the thought, a name ready on his lips.

“Jon” he smiled gently.

“I think I’ll call you Jon”.

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 It went well after that. Martin made plans to keep the cat. It would help the dreariness of his lonely flat, and he was lucky his landlord allowed pets in his building.

He couldn’t afford proper insurance but the workers at the pet shop knew an emergency vet that wasn’t too expensive, so he could get Cat Jon’s eye checked out soon.

Giddy as he was with his newfound friend, he didn’t realise that he’d been less subtle than usual about where he was going on his break.

It was one grey, wet Wednesday that it all came to ahead.

He’d been sitting crossed legged on the ground, his coat below him as a sort of makeshift blanket to keep his trousers dry, when Human Jon found them.

He hadn’t even noticed Jon had followed him until the backdoor that led the alley burst open with a bang that echoed down the narrow way.

“Martin” shouted Jon, looking at some papers in his hand.

“I need you to take your lunch late and follow up on this report. You made several errors in your research that, frankly, a child could spot. I don’t know what you’re doing out here but if you have time to sit around then –“

Jon’s rant was cut short as he finally looked up to the picture that greeted him.

Cat Jon had leaped into his arms from the loud noise, clinging to Martin’s bright yellow sweater.

Martin froze, cat in arms as Jon stared at him with a look of equal shock.

“Oh” began Jon softly

“Sorry” Martin practically shouted.

“I – eh – this is, well um, a cat, I found? A few weeks ago, actually. I’ve been sort of taking care of it? Getting it food and water and um” he gestured to the plastic hut and blanket he’d laid out.

“He was hurt you see. Only one eye and really badly taken care of. Abandoned, I recon. So I’ve been out here on lunches making sure he’s, um, that he’s okay? Is that..is that alright?” he trailed off nervously.

He couldn’t look at Jon. It wasn’t exactly something to be ashamed of, taking care of a stray cat. But he could imagine Jon being the sort of serious no nonsense person who would see it as a waste of time, his lunch break or not. God would this make his relationship worse? Would Jon scold him for it? Did it make him seem more pathetic than before? Christ, was that even possible?

He didn’t notice the movement until Jon was sat beside him on the floor.

Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, sat on a dirty alley floor with Martin K Blackwood.

He watched with bated breath as Human Jon reached his hand out to Cat Jon and let out a small sound of relief when Cat Jon didn’t bite, scratch or run away.

“You poor thing” murmured Jon, eyes only on his (unknowing) cat counterpart.

“What have they done to you? Well, you look better now than you probably did before. Thank to our Martin here”.

Martin couldn’t help but blush deeply at that. Hot all over his face. He couldn’t handle this. Jon being all, all soft and gentle and calling him “our” Martin.

“You’ve been taking care of him then?” Jon looked up at Martin now. Eyes soft and kind for once. It nearly took all of Martins brain power to respond after receiving such a look.

“Yes” he began.

“Like I said, I found him a few weeks ago. Planning on taking him back to mine soon, get him out of the cold properly”.

Jon nodded, eyes never leaving Martins, hand firmly petting the cat in Martins arms.

“I’m sorry, about the work” Martin nervously bit his lip.

“I’ve been really worried about him so I rushed it to get out here on time. It’s no excuse and I know you don’t exactly think highly of my work in the first place. I’ll make sure I stay late tonight so I can catch up”

“Martin” interrupted Jon, eye straying on the bitten lip, a slight flush to his cheeks.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I haven’t been fair to you these past few months. It’s been unprofessional at best and, well, and downright cruel at worst”

“Your job is stressful” Martin tried to defend

“And we both know I’m not exactly at the same standard at the others”

“Still” Jon continued.

“It’s my job to help you, not, berate you at every mistake. You came from the library, not research, so you have different skill set and – well, its been hard for us all. Not fair of me to put all that blame on you. God knows Tim could stand to be a bit more professional at times” Jon grumbled out the last part, a small pout to his lips.

Martin laughed at that, smiling wider than he could last remember.

“Tim just likes to keep you human, I think” he winked and watched with fascination as the flush came back to Jon’s dark cheeks.

Cat Jon leap out of his arms after that, toddling off to who knows where.

“Well” Martin began, getting up from his cross legged position on the floor.

“We still have time for lunch, we could, um, maybe eat together? If that’s okay I mean! You could help me figure out a name for him?” “You don’t have one already?” replied Jon, surprise in his voice “Uhhh not any suitable ones, no” Martin laughed awkwardly.

He couldn’t exactly say he’d name the poor blighter after Jon. He doubted Jon would take it as a compliment and he didn’t want to ruin whatever fragile peace they’d stumbled onto.

He held out his hand to help Jon off the floor. Jon eyed it, before bringing his own hand up and placing it into Martins larger ones. Martin pulled him up and held back a small gasp as Jon shot forward quicker than intended, his smaller hand landing on Martin chest.

Jon looked up at him, a small shy smile gracing his lips.

“Beautiful” Martin couldn’t help but think, face and ears bright red.

Jon pulled back, coughing every so slightly into his fist.

“Yes, well, I’ve named a cat or two in my time, it won’t be too hard” “Oh?” teased Martin

“What about Magnus? We did find him here” Jon shook his head at that, crinkling his nose slightly.

“Absolutely not, something more dignified. The Captain maybe?” “Captain?” countered Martin

“The Captain” continued Jon as they began to head back inside

“I suppose the one eye does give him a bit of a pirate look” Martin couldn’t help by laugh slightly as he said it.

“Yes” Jon laughed back

“Dignified but still fitting his nature” And off they went, back into the Institute. Unaware of any monstrous eyes watching them as they simply watched each other. A new, wonderful feeling developing between them.

Neither noticed that they still held each others hands as they made their way to the break room.

And if they spoke of cat names, and toys and flushed deeply when they did notice the hands still entwined, well.

Those moments were only for them.

[joonclouds]

Heat Packs | YoongixReader

You make a scrunchy face at the sandy-haired boy. “Not so bad? All I was, was concerned and he saw fit to make me feel as worthy as the dirt under your shoe.”

“I don’t wear shoes.”

When you raise an eyebrow pointedly at him, Taehyung holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, shoe police, calm down.”

-

Yoongi x Reader (and shoeless friend Taehyung)

Plot: Producer!Yoongi, fluff at the end, kind of enemies to lovers?? arguments to lovers? idk man Yoongi is bad at expressing feelings

Warnings:  It gets a bit hot and heavy at the end but nothing else unless you want to consider cringey fluff as a warning lol

Wordcount: 7.3k

Note: Quarantine is still very inspiring. I am still very bad at naming my fics. producer!Yoongi is *chefs kiss* Hope ya’ll are well x *kisses*

-

It is a Tuesday evening in mid November that you decide you hate Min Yoongi. Hate was a strong word for you. Most of the time you hovered between a state of neutrality to mild displeasure, and sure, you’d been harbouring a (maybe not so subtle) crush on your reclusive boss, but you decide today that it was time to Burn That Ship cause you hate Min Yoongi.

You stand there, heart pounding. From embarrassment or from anger, you can’t really tell at this point - but heck, it wasn’t even your fault. Indignant, that’s what you felt. You had heard a loud bang and crash from his recording studio, and in a moment of panic and concern you’d rushed in to check if everything was okay.

Turns out he was moving his large bass speakers and didn’t need (or deserve, you think huffily) any of your help. Maybe you should have knocked first, but -

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Never heard of knocking?”

See, you were a Badass Bitch™. Which is why now your face is flushing an angry red, mouth open, ready with a snappy comeback. But Badass Bitch™ is also paranoid and doesn’t like confrontations, so she takes a baton and whacks the retort right out of your mouth. So you close your mouth again, stand there silently and look down. And if it could get worse, it does - a prickling at the back of your eyes starts to grow.

“And you’re just going to stand there?” The black-haired boy cocks a brow at you.

“I.. I heard a crash so I just came in to make sure everything was okay and-“

“What is this, your house? Is your name on the outside of the door?”

You wring your hands behind your back and pinch the fleshy part of your palm to ease the growing lump in your throat. No, you refuse to cry in front of him. After three months of working here you’d thought you’d finally wormed your way into the category of “acceptable humans to Min Yoongi”, but clearly you had not. In fact, as of now, you probably didn’t even exist on the Venn diagram.

“I.. No, but… I…”

“Does it. Say your damn name. On. My. Studio. Door.”

You stand there, speechless, mouth opening and closing, looking for something to say. A fat tear starts to pool in your left eye and threatens to spill, but by some miracle you manage to hold it in. Barely.

Yoongi lets out a sharp breath and makes his way across the room, yanking the door wide open.

“The rule here is no one comes into my studio. Get the fuck out.”

-

You are still crying as you sharpen the twentieth coloured pencil on the living room floor you share with a pixie of a girl called Chungha, who sits opposite you with her chin propped on folded knees.

“You should do this for a living, you know. Given how many times you’ve done this already.” She comments

“What, the crying?” You stutter out confusedly between a hiccup and a sniff.

“I meant the pencil sharpening.”

You blow your nose wetly into a tissue. “I can’t help it, okay? I cry. When people. Shout at me.” You choke out the last few sentences in between sobs.

All your admission does is bring forth another wave of tears.

“So who made you cry this time?”

“Min Yoongi. Min. Fucking. Yoongi.” With each syllable you turn the pencil with a newfound gusto, taking some sort of vicarious pleasure in watching the wood getting shaved off in neat strips.

Chungha’s eyes widen. “As in, owner of the studio, Min Yoongi. Your ridiculously elusive, black-clothes-only, don’t-come-into-my-office, hot in a weird way, Min Yoongi?”

You nod aggresively. “I hate him. So much.”

“You don’t mean that.”

You consider locking Chungha in the storeroom.

“Maybe he just had a bad day?” She offers.

“What did I do to deserve this? All I did was check on him in his studio!” In your angst you stop sharpening. You imagine the little plastic sharpener is Yoongi’s stupid head and you hurl it across the carpet.

“I’m sorry he shouted at you.” She pulls a Kleenex out of the box and dabs gently at your face. “Even if he told you not to go in, but you didn’t deserve that. He’s an idiot. Men are idiots.”

“I was just trying to be nice!” You protest, voice rising a good four octaves. “I heard a loud thud so I got worried and I rushed in without thinking, but turns out he was just moving his speakers and he just got so mad and saying all those mean things - “ you trail off slowly as hiccups and sobs leave you incoherent.

“You know how he is, grumpy old man. I’m sure he’ll apologise.” Chungha offers you another tissue. “And honestly my love, there’s no point crying now you’ve already forgiven him so…”

“I. Havent.”

“Tell me that when you next speak to him and aren’t a puddle of mush.”

You fling your snot-stained tissue at her.

—

The next week when your shift comes around, you still show up for work. Even though you are half an hour late from pacing up and down the street outside, considering if you should just not show up to spite him. It took three existential crises, five tears, and many muttered curses about the offending human being, but eventually you find yourself in the lift up to the recording office. You didn’t like to admit it, but you were the type who was quick to anger, but quick to cool.

Though cooling didn’t mean forgiveness. You were good at compartmentalisation and that was exactly what you were going to do.

The idea of not landing yourself in crippling school fee debt was wholly enticing, and to do that you needed this job as an admin at the recording offices. It paid well, and was easy enough. Keep the place clean, stock the pantry, manage the room bookings, make sure no one breaks equipment. Make ramen for customers. Don’t go into Min Yoongi’s studio. Even if he suffered a heart attack and might be dead. Easy.

You steel yourself with a breath and push open the swinging door with gusto, making a beeline for the reception with your head down and eyes trained on your shoes. Just get behind that tall white counter and you’d be safe -

“Oof.”  - if you didn’t first collide with a broad, hoodie-clad chest.

Warm hands grip your shoulders to steady you. “Whoa, watch where you’re going, little pea.”

You smile as you step back to see a familiar face face that takes your breath away. “I didn’t know you were coming in today!”

Taehyung, or Tae, as you had come to know him, was one of the regulars at the studio. A music student with a voice deep and syrupy as honey, and a face just as sweet to match - he made hearts go ba-dump in chests. Even after six months of seeing him three times a week, and the knowledge that he was already (secretly) attached to his art school’s equally pretty-boy dance major, you as a normal human being were still not safe from Tae’s charms.

“Yeah, I had some free time - Jimin’s off putting in extra hours in the dance studio so I figured I’d come here.”

You’re glad for his presence as you go behind the reception and get ready for work.

Tae walks up on the other side of the counter and rests an elbow on it, chin propped in his palm. From behind his long bangs you can see he’s sporting a bit of a twinkle in his eyes. He looks at you expectantly and you’re confused for a moment but it all clicks into place.

You fall into the chair behind the reception and let your head loll back on the backrest, giving him the side-eye. “What is it, Tae?”

He grins mischeviously. “So Yoongi unleashed the kraken on you, huh.”

“If by kraken you mean Mr. Shouty Pants, then yes, the kraken.”

Tae lets out a barking laugh. “Let him off the hook, fisherman. He’s not so bad once you get to know him - he wasn’t always like this, you know.”

You guess is that if that stupid recluse had anything such as a friend, then Taehyung would probably be the closest thing to it. But then again your guess was as good as useless because it was near impossible to not like Tae - he was definintely overly-friendly, but not in a smothering way and boy, did it grow on you. Out of all the people who came and went in the studio, Taehyung and about four other people were the only ones you had ever seen Yoongi say more than three words to in a single sentence. Well, now you were included in that category too, but for very different reasons.

You make a scrunchy face at the sandy-haired boy. “Not so bad? All I was, was concerned and he saw fit to make me feel as worthy as the dirt under your shoe.”

“I don’t wear shoes.”

When you raise an eyebrow pointedly at him, Taehyung holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, shoe police, calm down.”

After a moment, he adds, “are you still angry?”

You sigh in resignation. “Honestly? Not really. I decided I need this job more than my dignity.”

Tae chuckles good-naturedly.

“Oh, by the way could I have the restroom key, Jungkook’s track got rejected again and the idiot’s gone and locked himself in there. Again.”

Bending to look under your table for the right set of keys, you cant help but feel the little worm of resentment wriggle in your heart. “If he were even half decent he’d apologise.” You grumble quietly.

“Looks like he already has.”

“What did you say?” You emerge from under the desk, a little red in the face, and hold the keys out to Tae.

“Thanks!” Tae grins widely at you as he takes the keys and makes in the direction of the hallway, calling out behind him, “Ramen at 9?”

“Choosing to have ramen with me over Jimin? I’m honoured.”  You tease.

Turning back to your desk you notice a little convenience store heat pack with a yellow sticky note that says ‘it’s getting colder’ messily scribbled on it. Tae must have put it there while you were searching for the keys - a right shame he batted for the other team, the boy was so sweet.

“Thank you for the heat pack!”

“Not my doing!” Is his muffled reply from inside the corridors, but you just leave it at that.

—

Taehyung trains his eyes on the mop of black hair sitting in front of him at the audio console. He slowly swings in the spinny chair he’s kneeling backwards in, arms and chin on the high backrest.

After a couple minutes of silence Yoongi turns around.

“Tae I swear. I tolerate you, but if you continue staring at me while spinning in that chair for one more second I will enforce a shoes-on policy on this studio.”

The spinning continues, a playful gleam in the younger boy’s eyes. I call bluff. “When I’m gone, who else will you spill all your admin staff related problems to?”

Yoongi lets out a resigned sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Why he chose to let this shoeless, pajama-clad hooligan into his life he would never know.

“This is about ____, isn’t it?”

Taehyung nods. “What you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing.”

He stops spinning in the chair. “Hyung. You didn’t misplace her printing, spill coffee on her notes, make her give out flyers in the rain, put in her pay three days late, or even ask her to make ramen for Jungkook.” (The boy eats four packets in one go.) He lists them all out on his fingers, much to Yoongi’s further annoyance.

“Heck, maybe even collectively doing all of those things might have been better.” He wags an accusing finger in his face, but Yoongi chooses not to acknowledge it. Just like he’s trying not to acknowledge the huge clusterfuck that was this situation with you.

“You made _____ cry. The _____ who waters the stupid plant outside your door and replenishes the bottled water in your personal fridge after you run out because you’re too damn lazy to do it yourself. You’d both die of dehydration if not for her.”

“You both?”

“You and the plant outside, you fucking dumbass, since both of you have so much in common.”

Yoongi slumps deeper into his chair, twiddling with the rings on his fingers uncomfortably. He’s looking at his three computer screens filled with music arrangements but all he can see is your face, hurt and angry. There was a particular point where he saw a tear threaten to escape and he can’t remember feeling like more of an asshole. He’s frustrated that you make him frustrated with your stupid pretty face all crumpled up like that and the fact that he’d been the one to -

“So?” Taehyung asks expectantly.

Yoongi has a defeated look on his face. “I already apologised!”

Taehyung gives him a stare that was equal parts appalled and in disbelief. “With a two dollar heat pack you bought from the convenience store? Which you left on her desk, along with some random post-it and no name. She thinks it’s from me, by the way.”

“She should have been able to tell? ... From the handwriting?”

Taehyung just looks at him.

“I didn’t mean what I said, Tae.” He adds huffily after a short silence. You know why I get so prickly when people come into my studio without permission.”

“Hyung, but ____ doesn’t know that.” He reasons with a softer tone. “I know you like her. If you didn't you’d have fired her on the spot. She’s the best one yet, and pretty, too. I bet if you explained yourself she’d forgive you.”

He hates it, but Taehyung was right when it came to things like this. Your feelings had been hurt and insulted (unjustly so by him) and he didn’t know how to fix it, so he’d just avoided coming out of his room or being at the studio when you were working your shifts. Which had turned out to be an unexpected inconvenience because you were there, manning the reception and running the room bookings more often than he had thought.

“Knew she was trouble from the moment I hired her.” Yoongi grumbles.

“Stop it, old man. You’re just saying that because you like her.”

And indeed you were, all doe-eyed and warm smiles in a floral print dress catching him off guard the day you tentatively pushed the doors of the studio open, asking about the position opening for a receptionist.

Yoongi soon discovered, over the three months you’d been here so far, that you were also a college student struggling to pay her bills, and your shy disposition hid a sharp tongue and intelligent dry wit that had left him chuckling below his breath before he could stop himself. You were definitely trouble, and just his kind.

“After you apologise you should just ask her out already,” tae adds, “she’s totally got a thing going for you."

Yoongi scoffs. “Yes, _____ totally has a thing for me and my winning personality.” He puts his hand on his chin in mock contemplation. “Now I know why she ran off crying. She’s in love with me.”

“I said, after you apologise. Properly. She’ll forgive you.”

“Maybe I can just fire her. Then I don’t have to see her again.” He groans.

“Then I’d never forgive you.”

The words were sharp, but that was just Taehyung. There was somehow always a kindness to everything he did or said, even if it was an unpleasant thing; it had made Yoongi see the error of his ways more than once. The kid was more mature than anyone gave him credit for.  

Tae pushes off the chair and claps an encouraging hand on the older boy’s shoulder before turning to leave the room.

“Just say sorry, Yoongi. It’s not that hard.”

—

The way Dongwon looks at you as he leans on the reception counter makes you uncomfortable. In the kind of way that you can feel his eyes on your face, your throat, your shoulders. It makes you want to take a shower. Not that you were wearing anything revealing. In fact, you are the antithesis of sexy right now in what Chungha liked to call The Nun Outfit - a  white turtleneck knit and a plain black midi skirt that fell to your shins.

Nevertheless, you force a smile out, respecting that this was one of Yoongi's previous work partners. “I’m sorry, but Yoongi specifically told me not to allow any unscheduled reservations today.”

“Come on babe. I left shortly after you arrived, but you know who I am. I just gotta pick something up, and use studio B for a while.”

His usage of the affectionate term on you makes your skin prickle but you shake it off. “Maybe you could leave a message?”

Fumbling at your desk, you reach for a pen and a notepad, pointedly ignoring the way Dongwon is leaning in closer, not sparing you an inch of his scrutiny. “Here, you can use this -"

“Are you fucking him?”

You freeze. “What?"

Dongwon gives you a once over and runs his tongue on the inside of his cheek. You think you’re going to throw up.

“Are you two fucking? Is that why you’re listening to him like a good little - ”

Yoongi is nothing if not a possessive man. So when he catches the tail end of your conversation with Dongwon on his way out to get this third Americano of the day, and sees Dongwon looming over you like you're his next meal, he feels a sharp, intense anger pressing against his chest.

“The heck do you want?” Yoongi is seething as he enters the reception area, but he tames the flames quickly. His tone is deceptively level.

Dongwon looks away from you and a weird expression crosses his face, but it’s schooled quickly. “Yoongi, my man.” He greets emptily.

“I’m just visiting. Seeing how you’re doing.”

“Great.” is Yoongi's clipped reply as he sets his empty cup on the counter and tosses a couple of bills in front of you.

“Im sorry, sajangnim, I told him you said no unscheduled -”

“Iced americano, triple shot.” Yoongi cuts you off. 

He looks at you pointedly, the first time he’s acknowledged you since he had shouted at you a week ago. Under normal circumstances you’d have snapped back about how ‘so we’re only speaking if you need me to be the coffee lady’ but today you just take the money and leave the office, glad to be out of there. You drag your feet, walking as slow as possible to the cafe downstairs and pray the barista takes longer, but there’s only so much time you can kill before you have to go back up. Coming to the end of the corridor you just hope they’re both gone by the time you get back so it saves you the confrontation but -

You stop just before they can see you through the glass door.

"You don't talk to my people that way."

"Your people?" You don't need to see Dongwon's face to know he's sporting a twisted mocking expression.

"What’s the matter, she’s free game if you guys aren’t sleeping together." His leering tone makes you blanch. "With a face like that? She's way out of your league, man, and even if you were fucking, it doesn't mean you can't share - “

Dongwon is cut off when you hear the loud, telling smack of a fist connecting with a face. It is all you can do to not drop the coffee in your hand, the other coming to cover your mouth to muffle a gasp.

“God, what the fuck is wrong with you, Yoongi? Who shoved a cactus up your ass?”

There is a brief scuffling noise, and the sound of some pushing and shoving, but quickly, it is quiet again.

“You know I could end your career in one phonecall, right?” You can barely hear Yoongi from where you are, but one thing’s for sure. You’ve never heard him like this before. Angry and menacing.

“I know what you’re here for. I’m not going to fall for it again. I kept quiet to protect the people in Namjoon’s company, but don’t you for one damn moment think I don’t know you’re the stealing bastard who took my demos and used them as your own.”

"And when Namjoon realises what your work is like - ha!" Yoongi snorts. "I was gonna watch you die a slow and public death but I guess that can be sped up."

Suddenly, things click into place with a shrill clarity. You don’t hear Dongwon say anything.

“You. Owe. Me. So you be a good little bitch and apologise to _____ when she comes back, and if you even so much as breathe on the corner of my block again, I’m going to fucking end you.”

“Yoongi you -“

If there was a good time for Badass Bitch™ to make an appearance it would probably be now. So you squeeze your eyes shut and with a deep breath, push open the office door.

“Coffee’s here!” You say a little too brightly, like you didn’t just walk in on an altercation.

Dongwon is trapped against the counter, collar gripped in Yoongi’s fist. He’s sporting a shiner on his cheekbone. Your lip trembles, but you manage to hold it in place. After a tense moment, Yoongi releases his grip with a disgusted exhale. Dongwon brushes himself off, turning away to straighten his shirt.

You place the coffee cup on the counter, turning to Yoongi and holding out a small fist. When he just looks at you, you grab his wrist and deposit some coins in his hand. You notice his knuckles are definitely pink.

“Your change.”

Yoongi ignores you, looking over your head at Dongwon. He opens his mouth like he’s about about to throw a nasty remark, but then closes it again with fire burning in his eyes and turns to leave.

“Oi. You forgot something. ” Yoongi’s tone is dangerous, warning.

Dongwon looks back, eyes still blazing, gaze shifting to you when Yoongi tilts his head in your direction.

He scoffs before pushing the door open, but then as he leaves he spits out begrudgingly, “Sorry, or whatever.”

You stand there in shocked silence for a good full minute before your senses come back to you. You turn to Yoongi again, grabbing his wrist to examine his hand.

“Yoongi, your hand -“ you start, but he’s already yanking it back from your grasp and muttering an angry “I’m fine”, before grabbing his coffee off the counter and heading back into his studio with a slam of his door.

-

If Yoongi’s day could have gotten any worse, it just did. There is a knocking on his door, for the third time in a row now and -

Knock knock knock.

He groans, yanking the door open. If he could get any more pissed off, he does, when he comes face to face with Taehyung.

“The fuck do you want, Tae, I swear if it’s nonsense again -"

"Stop taking your problems out on other people, hyung. Getting real tired of your shit here."

Yoongi groans internally. Tae was right. Again.

"Sorry. Its been a day. Dongwon was here earlier." He explains wearily, and the younger boy softens a little with understanding.

"S'okay. He's gone now?"

"Yeah, left him with a present too." Taehyung eyes Yoongi's hand that rested on the doorframe. He nods a few times, and then shoves a plastic bag into Yoongi’s hands.

“I have a present for you. It’s from ____.”

Your name stuns him for a moment. “Wait. Who?”

“____. She asked me to give it to you. I think she’s too afraid to give it to you herself.”

“What? Why?”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes before walking away. Yoongi shuts the door and slumps back in his chair, hand coming to massage his temples but he winces when he tries to make a fist. His knuckles are an angry, painful red. He definitely hit Dongwon harder than he’d intended.

Sighing, he empties the contents of the little bag onto the table and finds a tube of anti-inflammatory ointment, a roll of bandages, and a little pink post it note. It’s from you. You’ve doodled a smiling caricature of yourself with a tiny speech bubble that says ‘thank you!’.

He picks it up, running a finger over the smiley face and plasters in the top right hand corner.

-

Huddling deeper into your coat as you trudge miserably back down the street in the direction of the studio, you silently thank Tae for the heat packs he’s been leaving you - though he always denies it and you wonder why. Of course it’s just your luck that you left your house keys at the office on the coldest night of the month.

It’s not that Yoongi was avoiding you, you reason to yourself, as you walk, he was always like that. Aside from the first interview, you didn’t get a second glimpse of him till the third week into your new job. And even then you didnt really know what he actually looked like, because his face was always covered with a mask or a black cap pulled low. You heard more about your boss than how much you actually saw him.  

Maybe he just felt embarrassed by the whole two situations? You reason to yourself. Frankly you were over the whole shouting fest. Maybe he just had an off day, so what? (Chungha was right, you were just a little miffed that he didn’t apologise to you, but you guessed he’d redeemed himself). As you round the corner you kick a stray pebble that bounces down the street -

Oh.

You remember the first time you had a Good Look at Yoongi. Not just glimpses of eyes under a cap pulled low, or a flash of his profile as he tugs his hood up over his head. Like, a real proper stare. It was about a month and a half in, when you were heading to water the plants outside his studio before you ended your shift, and caught him working late with the door open.

You had imagined him to have coarse, unrefined features, what with his reclusive, gruff personality. And so you were caught by surprise, when you're greeted with a delicate side profile, strong brows slightly furrowed in concentration as he experiments with different chords on the keyboard with long, elegant fingers. A plush lower lip is worried between a row of clean, straight teeth. It was an unconventional kind of handsomeness, a kind that made you want to look, and look again.

But it's like he knows you're there and looks up. Before you can apologise out of habit, he closes the door in your face, your gaze meeting his for a split second. His eyes are angled with an almost feline quality under long lashes, sharp and guarded. You didn’t know what they guarded, but you felt a curiosity take bud in your chest and it was in that moment you knew you were very much in trouble.

But it is not clear how much trouble you are in. And you thought you were clear of that trouble, given the happenings of the past weeks. But now you realise any chance of being clear of it is now shot to shit when you round the corner of the street and see him crouching at the curb outside the building near a small ball of fur.

He’s playing with a cat.

Softly, the three-coloured cat he’s watching purrs, abandoning the can of tuna in favour of rubbing itself against Yoongi’s shin. He pulls a hand out of his hoodie pocket and reaches down to scratch between its ears. A gentle, endearing smile finds its way onto his face. You feel your heart squeeze.

But like the last time, before you can make your presence known, he looks up. He knows. There’s an expression on his face like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been.

Yoongi quickly stands up and shoves his hand back into his hoodie pocket as you approach. It is at this point a small logical part of his mind registers that it would be a good time to apologise to you, but for the most part it is a mental re-enactment of a keyboard smash when you give him an unsure smile and a tiny wave. All swaddled in your coat and scarf, you were so cute, and holy shit you were walking over and he had no clue what he was going to say.

“So you’re the one spoiling him.” You murmur as the cat leaves Yoongi to pad over to you.

“Him?” He replies dumbly.

You nod to the meowing ball of fur curling around your ankles. “Him. I named him Jimin.”

“Jimin.” He repeats slowly. “A very human name?”

Yoongi watches you, as you watch the cat, a small smile gracing your face. “He reminds me of a friend of a friend. Small and cute. But has claws. And very clingy once he gets close to you.”

You look up to catch him staring, and he quickly redirects his attention to a streetlamp in the distance. “Yeah, I’ve been feeding him for a couple of weeks now. You’re definitely right about him being clingy.” Yoongi admits sheepishly as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

Crouching to give Jimin a head scratch, you can sense Yoongi wants to say something. But you reckon he doesn’t know how. You think about giving him a hard time, but you don’t. You figure getting caught feeding a little cat is enough punishment for him.

“Don’t worry, sajangnim. I won’t tell anyone." You say with a little smile. "I’ll keep your image intact.”

Your smile makes his brain short circuit. "What?"

You let out a laugh because this was the most flustered you’d ever seen Yoongi, over a cat, no less! (you were wrong about this) And boy, was it amusing.

It's a light, happy noise and it's so pretty, Yoongi thinks. A pretty laugh for a pretty girl.

"Y'know, your whole brooding, all black, don't talk to me, mysterious guy image." You make a mask gesture over your face and then to him in mock disbelief.

"Playing with cats isn't very on brand of you, but I'll keep that information to myself."

Yoongi laughs then, and he dips his head to try and hide it, but from where you're crouching with Jimin you're treated to a glimpse of the cutest gummy smile that makes your heart turn into mush. You mentally note to prepare yourself for the next time he does that.

Putting your hands on your knees you push yourself back up and you both stand in companionable silence for a little while, watching the little cat go back to his bowl of tuna.

“I’m gonna -“

“Yeah so - “

The expression of mild surprise quickly turns into amusement on Yoongi’s face, and it makes you laugh softly into your palm like a shy fifteen year old. You quirk your head at him. Yoongi feels like it is really unfair for someone to be this cute.

“You first.”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck with his hand and looks up at you from behind the hair falling in his eyes.

“I’m. Uh.” He stutters. “Realised I never apologised for that day.”

“It’s okay,” you smile reassuringly. “I’m over it.”

“You are?”

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I mean, granted you were a Top Notch Asshole, but I guess it was just a bad day for you.”

“I deserve that. Taehyung told me I should stop taking my anger out on others. Its true.”

“I accept your apology. Everyone has their own… thing.” You say stupidly after not being able to find better words.

“I just have issues sometimes. With... intellectual property.” He gestures vaguely in the air, trying to explain the best he can and you understand that he doesn’t really want to say more.

“I know.”

Yoongi’s brow knits in confusion for a moment before realisation dawns upon him.

“You heard us.”

You nod with a tight smile. “I didn’t mean to.”

Yoongi nods. “You’re not curious?”

“I am.” You consider this for a while, before adding: “but I don’t want to hear it if you don’t want to tell me.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, just continues staring at you. He likes that you are perceptive, and that you don’t feel like you’re automatically owed a lengthy explanation (even though he feels like you were). He likes your humour and the way you say things, and how every emotion is displayed so clearly on your face. He used to hate it because he thought it was a lack of tact, but honesty like yours is something he’s recently come to treasure a lot.

His staring makes your skin prickle all over and your cheeks flush, so you look for something to say.

“So all the receptionists who've worked for you become your punching bag, or was it just me?”

“Only the pretty ones.” He's sporting that cheeky gummy smile again.

He thought you were pretty?

It was so cliche, but it made you giggle. "Okay, casanova."

Your laugh dies down and you do this little shrug smile thing at him. In the muted yellow of the lamplight, and the snow starting to fall around you, Yoongi feels his heart stutter.

“Thanks, for the... stuff.” He pulls his other hand out of his hoodie to show you that it’s bandaged.

“Ah, you got them. I’m glad Tae got them to you. I didn’t know if you um.” You pause. “... wanted my company or not.” Yoongi blanches apologetically. “I’m working on it.”

After a moment of silence, you point up at the building. “I gotta get going. I left my house keys in the office. I came back to get them.”

“I think I’ll stay here a little longer.” He looks down at his furry friend working steadily at finishing whatever's in the bowl. “With Jimin.”

A sudden gust of cold, sharp wind cuts by, and you shove your hands deeper into your pockets kept warm by the heat pack Taehyung had given you. You see Yoongi shiver in his hoodie, and in the spur of the moment you fish out the heat pack in your pocket and hold it out to him.

“Take this, if you're gonna be out here. It’s getting colder these days.”

There is an odd expression on Yoongi’s face and he stares weirdly at you for a moment before you go into panic mode.

“Oh no, do you mind that I’ve been holding it before? Oh no I’m sorry. It’s okay, my hands are clean, I wash them often, twice actually with soap and water. I don’t like germs. If you want I also have hand sanitiser - “ you begin digging around hastily in your little sling bag, but freeze when Yoongi’s hands settles over your own.

They are big and warm, and the rough callouse on his palm brushes gently over your knuckles. You can’t help but imagine what they’d feel like on other places of your body. He accepts the heat pack from you, fingers lingering just a little too long - you’re sure of it, you hadn’t imagined that.

“Thank you, ____.” He offers you a half-smile and you can feel your heart flip flop like a fish in your chest.

All of a sudden, self-consciousness hits you in waves, and you school your features, clearing your throat. “I… I’d better get going, sajangnim.”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“Call me Yoongi.”

Yoongi finds himself biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too wide as he watches you, all flustered as you stutter a mumbled agreement and goodbye, trudging off abruptly in the direction you came. Only to turn back around because you’d gone in the wrong direction instead of going to get your keys. Cute, he thinks to himself. Very cute.

—

The first time you say his name is two weeks later and you’re not used to calling him that, so he really has to drag it out of you. (Not that he didn’t enjoy it, but you best believe he won’t ever let you live it down that you couldn’t bring yourself to drop the honorifics.)

It’s after hours, and he’s leaning against the audio console in his studio, with you standing between his legs. A random demo track of his plays in the background - a simple piano melody, but you don't recognise it. Must be one of the new things he's been working on - there were a lot of them lately. One of them being working up the sexual tension between you two, which had reached a head today, given the position you were in. You were about to burst. Into tears, or flames you didn't know which but you sure as hell were about to find out.

You are eye to eye with Yoongi. An arm around your waist presses you against his chest with nowhere to run, the other hand gently cupping the side of your face. He is terribly close, so warm and smells of soap and the leather jacket he’s wearing.

“Say it properly.”

A little bubble of annoyance rises in your throat at the smug expression on his face. You’re rather cute when you’re frustrated.

“This is blackmail. It’s illegal, you know?” You say huffily. “It’s just a name, why do you have to make life so hard for me? I’m sure you’d know - “

You ramble on, and Yoongi watches you fondly - you weren't much of a talker, but put you in a spot and suddenly you couldn’t stop talking. He’s rather excited to discover more of this side of you. Even your coping mechanisms were cute, and he thinks to himself that he’s pretty much done for.

Yoongi places his index finger under your chin, tipping your head up to meet his gaze and runs the pad of his thumb slowly over your bottom lip. You shut up, and watch him as he watches his finger press into the soft flesh. The guy knew exactly what he was doing, and you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.”

Yoongi tilts his face even nearer, lips hovering dangerously close.

“Not good enough.” He whispers. His breath fans gently across your cheek; it smells like the mint gum he likes to chew on when he’s working on a particularly difficult track.

Yoongi feels your small hands tighten around the lapels of his jacket, and he’s met with a glare that is pleading and dare he say… petulant? He’s wanted to kiss you for a long time, and he’s thought about it a lot. More than is healthy for him, he thinks, but oh, does he want to tease you just a little bit longer.

“Not. Good. Enough.”

“Yoongi, kiss me.”

When Yoongi first kisses you, he does so chastely. He nips delicately at your lips. His own are soft, unhurried and teasing - a tender shadow of a kiss. You can tell he's relaxing, savoring the moment, and like a fog settling in, your world grows hazy with the smell, taste and touch of him.

"There's my girl." Yoongi whispers as he pulls away, his breath mixing with yours. Unintentionally you shift, moving forward for another kiss because he's kissing you but not really kissing you. And unsurprisingly, he stays where he is, just out of reach.

"Kiss me. Properly ", you repeat.

He moves his lips slowly to your jaw and lower; you can feel his laugh through his chest. You crane your neck and let out a breathy "oh god" when Yoongi takes his own sweet time to suck a deep pink bruise into the creamy expanse of skin there. He appraises, with satisfaction, the way his mark looks on you before soothing it with his warm lips and tongue.

"Come on princess," he murmurs against your skin in between licks. "Try again."

The term of endearment he uses on you is your undoing, and he makes a mental note with emphatic exclamation points to revisit this tidbit of information at a later date.

"Yoongi. Kiss me. Please."

And just like that he continues where you two left off, this time with no ounce of teasing or flirting. It's hot and shameless and wanton. Yoongi is no longer gentle. The hand around your waist drops to the curve of your ass, gripping hard and pulling you onto your tiptoes. He slips a thigh between your legs, your hips now flush against his - a delicious pressure you can't get enough of. The other hand palms your breast, rubbing a pebbling nipple through your clothes and the sudden friction makes you gasp. He takes the chance parting of your lips to lick into your mouth, swallowing your soft moans eagerly. You run one of your hands up to the nape of his neck. Carding your fingers through the hair there earns you a low groan, and a heavy, languid swipe of his tongue against yours.

You don’t know how long you spend memorising the taste of him, his hands claiming every possible inch of your skin, but eventually the kiss slows. Yoongi takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently as he pulls away. For a moment all you can hear is the the blood roaring in your ears.

As the both of you catch your breath, Yoongi is just watching you now. The hand that rests on your waist moves up your belly, up your chest. It comes to rest at the base of your throat, thumb one one side and four fingers on the other. Silently, you revel in its weight. The feeling of his rings on your skin makes you shiver a little. Unable to help himself, he squeezes ever so slightly. Like this, he can feel your hummingbird pulse under the pad of his thumb.

Your eyes flutter shut momentarily, but not before you see his eyes light with desire.

You look up at him, and he decides he likes you like this. He really, really likes you like this - soft, pliant, all pressed up against him with your moans and kiss-swollen lips, and for the love of god, begging.  

It’s a bit pathetic how you’ve got him all wrapped around your little finger but he's had enough of teasing and he gets to kiss you now, so he doesn’t care. He smiles widely, closing the distance between his lips and yours again.

-

Six months down the road is the first time he lets you listen to that piano track when it’s finished. You don’t remember it at first, but he’s quick to jolt your memory with a very in depth and very realistic re-enactment.

When you finally get down to listening to it, he plays it off as cool and nonchalant, but you’re attuned to his little mannerisms by now, and the way he’s picking at the skin on his thumb told you this was important. He’s nervous to let you listen to it.

It’s beautiful - a soft piano backing track compliments his husky rap in an unexpected but flawless manner, and the way it builds into a crescendo fills you with raw emotion. Your eyes are wet by the time the last few notes play.

“Yoongi, it’s beautiful.”

He smiles at you, but continues picking at his thumb.

“You don’t think it’s too… different?” He frowns a little. “From my other stuff? Will people like it?”

You walk over to take his face between two of your small hands.  You’re looking at him like he’s your entire world and his heart is going to burst. “ Don’t worry. It’s going to be amazing. It is amazing. You’re amazing.”

In that moment, Yoongi feels invincible. He presses a long, sweet kiss to your lips.

“Some day, I’m going to write a song about you.” he breathes when he pulls away. You beam quietly.

“Music is my first love but you - “ there is a pause as he takes a moment to run a finger across your cheek, so gentle, as if he might break you if he wasn’t careful enough.“ - you are my forever love.”

- 

[artificialqueens]

Off Limits, Chapter 1 (Bitney, Willaska) - Veronica/Albatross

A/N: Hey guys! This is the companion story to “No Strings Attached.” We’re tagging them both as “Just Friends” so that it’ll be easy to read the chapters in order, but once it gets complicated, I might include a guide. Both ships are in both stories, but generally, “No Strings Attached” is Willaska-focused and this one is Bitney-focused. (Link to all chapters in order, which so far is just 2.)

Summary: When Bianca meets her new roommates, she’s especially captivated by one of them. Worse, the feeling seems to be mutual.

***

Bianca hated being fucking late. It was bad enough that she’d had to drive all the way from New Orleans to California, praying that her 7-year-old Kia wouldn’t break down. But for the last leg of her trip, which should have been 45 minutes, she got caught in an accident on the freeway that turned what should have been a short, pleasant zip up the freeway into a torturous 4-hour crawl.

By the time she reached the dorms, she was fuming--not to mention exhausted. And having to lug her shit from possibly the worst parking spot in the garage did nothing to improve her shitty mood. By the time she’d achieved some semblance of order in her room, she was hot and thirsty and as cranky as she’d ever been.

She chugged about a gallon of water and then collapsed on the sofa, arm over her eyes, trying to summon the energy to think about a shower.

It was then when the front door swung open and a trio of laughing, chattering girls poured inside.

Bianca looked up. At first glance, all she saw was Blonde, Blonde, Blonde. A bunch of perfect, plastic sorority girls, exactly the type of girl she couldn’t stand. (And, if she was honest, exactly the type of girl that she always feared a little bit.) She groaned inwardly, sitting up and giving them a withering glare.

Unable to help herself, she announced, “Great...I’m living with a bunch of bottle blonde bitches.” As the words left her mouth, she realized that she was perhaps not making the best first impression. But instead of taking it back, she doubled down with, “So whose hideous leopard duvet is that?”

The Littlest Blonde burst into delighted giggles, before glancing at the (Bianca assumed) Duvet-Owning Blonde beside her and pressing her lips together contritely.

Slutty Blonde slung an arm around Duvet Blonde and said, “Calm down, bitch. Some of us are garbage pails with hideous taste. We’re still people.”

Bianca pursed her lips, determined to continue hating them all.

With that, Little Blonde skipped forward, flinging herself onto the sofa and offering a bright smile.

“Hi, I’m Courtney. You must be our fourth roommate,” she said.

She had an accent--a cute accent. Shit. Do not let the accent fool you. This Barbie doll bitch isn’t your friend.  

“Wow...what gave that away, detective?” Bianca asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Well…” she leaned in conspiratorially, speaking in a low voice. “It would be a little weird for you to be here, if you weren’t. So...” She finished with a flutter of lashes and another dazzling smile, green eyes dancing with amusement.

Well, fuck. Bianca was not planning to be this charmed, this quickly. The plan was to be grumpy and sulk for awhile. Foiled by a pretty face...not the first time, but still annoying.

“Genius.” Bianca tried to suppress her smile, but dimples poked through anyway.

“I knooow, right?”

Australian. Bianca winced. Surely this was some kind of karmic justice for a terrible deed she’d done as a child. After all, there was no way in hell that Bianca would get involved with one of her roommates. She was many things, but she was not that messy.

“So, are you gonna tell us your name?” Courtney asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Bianca. Hi.”

“Hi, Bianca, nice to meet you.”

God, even the way she said her name was sexy. Bee-aaaahn-cah. Ugh. Bianca was well and truly fucked.

“Hey, I’m Willam,” Slutty Blonde said, perching on the arm of the sofa. “And that’s Alaska...your roommate. You should be nicer to her; she’s cool.”

Duvet Blonde gave a halfhearted wave.

“Hi, Alaska,” Bianca said, slightly chagrined, “I’m sorry...about your lack of taste. We’ll work on it.”

Courtney giggled again, tossing her hair, still watching Bianca closely. And as much as she wanted to look away, to dismiss her as some airhead, she had to admit that something in her eyes was captivating.

“So, Bianca...where are you from?” Courtney asked.

“New Orleans,” Bianca told her.

“Oooh, have you ever been to Mardi Gras?!” she asked, eyes lighting up.

“Uhh. Yeah.”

“Did you bring us any beads?”

“Why not get out your tits and see, Court?” Willam suggested.

Courtney started to lift the edge of her shirt, and Bianca’s eyes went wide--this girl was turning out to be a lot more than she’d bargained for. Courtney glanced at her surprised face and burst out laughing again.

“Just kidding.”

“Good one,” Bianca offered, a little ashamed at the flash of disappointment she felt. Of course she was kidding; Bianca needed a cold shower.  

“So, are you a new student here?” Courtney asked.

“Yeah.” Bianca cleared her throat. “I transferred from LSU.”

“Where’s that?”

“Louisiana...State...University,” Bianca explained slowly, as if she was talking to a child. Her tone was intentionally condescending, but Courtney continued her rapid-fire questions undeterred.

“Ah! Brilliant. And have you-”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Bianca said. She’d never experienced that many questions in a row, and considering her gigantic nosy-ass family, that was saying a lot. If she wasn’t so cute, Bianca would be thoroughly irritated.  

“Sure does,” Willam added with an eye roll.

“Oh yeah. I know. Is it annoying you?” Courtney bit her lip, head tilted cutely.

“That’s another question,” Bianca declared stonily, pretending once again not to be charmed. And doing a piss-poor job of it, if the glimmer in Courtney’s eyes was any indication.

“Hmm, I guess it is,” Courtney said, tone lilting and gently mocking. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“Maybe I should ask you some questions.”  

“Maybe you should!” Courtney replied brightly. She stretched her legs--long, tan, killer legs--placing them on the coffee table and folding them delicately at the ankles. “What would you like to know?”

Do you moan in an Australian accent?

Bianca coughed, mind blanking for a moment, before admitting with a shrug, “I guess...I’m not very curious.”

“Pity. ‘Cause I’m an open book.”

“Uh. Good to know.” After a beat, Bianca offered, “So. I had kind of a shitty morning.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Courtney sat up straighter, the teasing smirk replaced with an expression of genuine concern. “Are you okay?”

“It’s fine, I just...I was actually about to jump in the shower. I’ll probably be in a better mood after that.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Willam, and Alaska let out a clipped laugh.

“I deserved that,” Bianca said with a nod and wry smile. “So I guess I’ll go...do that.”

With one last glance at the group, Bianca got up and walked towards her bedroom to get her things.

“What a cunt,” Willam said loudly--loud enough that Bianca knew it was for her benefit. She chuckled to herself.

“Bill!” Courtney scolded, then added, “I like her.”

“Clearly. Why don’t you go make my bed?”

“Make your own bed, dickhead!” Courtney shrieked.

The shower was much needed. Bianca could feel the stress of the day literally rinsing away, muscles relaxing in the steamy water. When she re-entered her bedroom, Alaska was lounging on the bed, flipping through a magazine. She sat down at her desk, pulling over a light-up mirror.

She took her time blow-drying her hair. Even put on some makeup. No reason not to look nice for a relaxing afternoon of getting to know her roommates, right? She pulled on a casual summer dress and sandals and then began to put everything away in its spot...blow dryer in the stackable basket with her curling iron, makeup in the case, brushes in the cup.

She turned around to Alaska, who gave her a smile.

“I like your bins,” Alaska commented, gesturing to Bianca’s compulsively organized and labeled plastic bins, lined up under her bed and stacked on the dresser.

“Thanks. And I like your...uh…” Bianca surveyed the mess on Alaska’s side of the room before settling on the word, “...piles.”

Alaska let out a loud cackle. The most Bianca had seen her laugh yet. She grinned wryly.

“I’m a little bit messy, sorry,” Alaska said.

“It’s cool,” Bianca shrugged. “To each their own.”

“I’ll keep it contained, I swear. And on my side of the room.”

“You fucking better!” Bianca exclaimed, and was rewarded with another laugh from her roommate.

***

Courtney didn’t like to admit it, but she’d had a bit of a lonely summer. She’d decided with her parents that, since she wanted to come home for Christmas again this year, it made more sense for her to stay at school, taking a few classes and working at an internship.

It usually wasn’t hard for Courtney to make friends, but somehow, she hadn’t connected with anyone. Her classmates seemed lovely, and her coworkers were nice enough too, but she missed the late-night gossiping with Willam, the chance to let loose and be silly. The girls she attempted to hang out with over the summer just weren’t the kind of unpredictable fun that Willam was. And her summer roommate was a reclusive Belgian girl who spent all of her time buried in her laptop wearing headphones.

But today, she was thrilled. Willam was finally back, and even better, she had two new fantastically wonderful roommates.

Alaska was great. A little reserved, maybe, but that was alright with Courtney. She had a great sense of humor and a genuinely kind soul that Courtney adored right away. Plus, she seemed to get along really well with Willam, which was a relief. (Courtney loved her BFF, but she knew that getting her seal of approval could be difficult.)

And then there was Bianca. Blunt and a bit abrasive, but Courtney found herself thoroughly enchanted almost immediately, reveling in her sharp wit and acid tongue. Her dark, flashing eyes. She was unlike anyone Courtney had ever met before, truth be told.

As Courtney helped Willam stuff her clothes into the closet and dresser and arrange her shoes and bags under the bed, she sighed happily, grateful to be surrounded by people with whom she could really let down her hair.

It took ages before Willam was satisfied. Well, not so much satisfied as much as resigned to accept the confines of their limited space. She turned to Courtney with a sigh, saying, “Well, it is what it is, I guess.”

Courtney laughed and suggested that they check on the others, skipping happily over to Bianca and Alaska’s open door. She pushed it in further, asking, “How are you ladies doing? Bonding?”

“Oh yeah,” Bianca said, turning around in her desk chair, large curling iron in hand. “Our periods are already in sync.”

Alaska laughed, and Courtney was glad to see that some of her earlier tension had melted away.

“How disgustingly primal,” Willam said, collapsing on the bed next to Alaska, who moved over to give her space.

Courtney settled on the floor nearby. She watched as Bianca carefully styled her hair, admiring the color—a rich, reddish mahogany brown—and wondering how she got it so shiny.

“Is your room bigger than ours?” Willa asked, pulling Courtney out of her thoughts as she looked around suspiciously.

“I don’t know. Is it?” Bianca asked.

“Bill’s pretty pissed about the closet space,” Courtney explained. “I gave her one of my drawers, but…” She shrugged, pulling affectionately on one of Willam’s bare feet, “Some people are just never satisfied.”

“I have an extra drawer, too,” Alaska offered, and Bianca’s eyebrows shot up.

“You sure you don’t want to use that for some of the stuff that’s…” she gestured to the top of Alaska’s dresser.

Looking at their spaces, Courtney could see a clear clash of styles. Bianca’s things were almost obsessively organized, lined up in containers with p-touch labels. Alaska’s side of the room was more haphazard, similar to Courtney’s space.

“Nah, she can have it,” Alaska said with a sweet smile, and Bianca responded by sticking out her tongue briefly.

Courtney giggled, seeing them tease each other, happy that they already seemed to be friends. She relaxed against Alaska’s desk chair, finally content to just let the conversation drift as it were, taking a break from her usual Oprah mode.

“So...not to be a wet blanket on all this delightful female bonding, but...where can a bitch find some decent vegetarian food around here?” Bianca asked, putting away her hairstyling tools and turning around.

“You’re hungry?” Courtney looked up at her.

“No, just thought I’d buy some food and throw it at seagulls. Yes, I’m fucking hungry.”

Through Courtney’s immediate laughter, Willam muttered, “Decent shit is mostly downtown...but edible? There’s the cafeteria next door, the salad bar over by the biology building, food court in the quad, the-”

“No, Bill,” Courtney giggled out with a weak swat at Willam’s leg. “Let’s get something different. Something better.” She decided not to add ‘for Bianca.’

Willam rolled her eyes and huffed out, “Fine then, cunt. Where do you suggest we eat?”

There was a moment’s pause as Courtney pondered over the question before thoughtfully looking up at Bianca, asking, “Do you like burritos?”

“Wow. That’s racist.”

“No, it’s not because you’re--I didn’t mean--it’s just that they’re really good and you said-” Courtney tripped all over herself to explain, flustered, cheeks growing hot. Shit, she hoped she hadn’t been offensive.

After a beat, Bianca burst out laughing.

“I was kidding, calm down. Burritos sound good.”

“Courtney, are you talking about that hole in the wall on Fair Oaks? We’ll have to take a car.”

“It’s good, and they have tons of veggie options, and you love driving,” Courtney insisted. “Plus, everything on campus will be chockers right now.”

“‘Chockers’?!” Willam repeated. “That’s so Aussie!”

“Packed, full, whatever, you know I’m right.”

“Ugh. Alright,” Willam groaned, then asked, “Alaska? You in?”

“Uh, I’m not really all that hungry,” Alaska said. “You guys should go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh no!” Courtney leapt to her feet. “Do you need something? I have magnesium supplements. Or, vitamin b-complex. That’s great for headaches!”

“Or, if you want something that actually works, I got Tylenol and Advil…” Bianca gestured to one of her boxes.

“I’ve got Vicodin,” Willam added. “And weed.”

“Thanks guys, but I think I just need to lay down for awhile.”

“Okay, we’ll leave you alone. Let us know if you want us to bring you back any food,” Courtney offered.

“Thanks.”

As the group trooped out of the room, Bianca grabbed her purse and then slung an arm around Courtney’s shoulder, asking, “Magnesium supplements?”

“My dad’s a doctor of alternative medicine,” Courtney giggled.

“Well, that tracks…”

***

By the time they perched on the rickety stools at the burrito place, Bianca was beyond starving. She dug into her food with a passion as Courtney resumed her questioning from earlier.

“Sooo,” she began, drawing out the word in that infuriatingly adorable Australian way, “You said that you transferred from Louisiana, right? What brings you out here?”

“Well, I’m majoring in marketing and international relations, and they have this scholarship that combines-”

“You’re an Ashford Scholar?!” Courtney exclaimed, eyes widening dramatically.

Bianca couldn’t help be a bit pleased with herself, happy that the prestigious scholarship was known even beyond the business school. Courtney was clearly impressed, and so she gave a small shrug of faux modesty.

“That’s amazing, that’s really...you know only 1 person a year gets that, right?” Courtney asked.

Bianca nodded and swallowed, then said, “Can’t wait to meet last year’s bitch. I assume they’re extraordinary too.”

Courtney giggled, resting her cheek on her hand. “So I guess that means you’re gonna have a lot of work to do. I heard those Ashford internships are seriously intense.”

“I’ll manage…”

Though her answer sounded nonchalant, she was enjoying Courtney’s obvious respect for her accomplishment. Her eyes practically glimmered in admiration.

“What about you, dollface?” Bianca asked. “What’s your major? Psychology?”

“No...although actually I did consider that!” Courtney said.

“Shocking.”

Courtney giggled, crunching down on a chip and saying, “I’m doing PoliSci.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Yeah…” she leaned in and stage whispered, “Your political system here is absolutely up the shit.”

Bianca laughed, not entirely familiar with that expression but getting the gist. She was about to agree when Willam interrupted her thoughts.

“That’s so Aussie!” Willam said, mouth muffled with food.

She assumed that was some kind of inside joke, but found herself unconcerned with being left out. What was more troubling was that until that moment, she’d temporarily forgotten that Willam was even there. She could already tell that it was a problem...how enchanting her new roommate was. Not to mention beautiful. The more Bianca looked into Courtney’s face, the more captivated she became. She cleared her throat, forcing her attention to Willam, who was working her way through a steak burrito bowl. Bianca nudged her foot.

“What’s your major, then?”

She expected a proud, boastful response but instead, there was just further silence. Conversation dropped dead for a few moments before Courtney chimed in softly with, “She doesn’t have a major yet...She’s still undeclared.”

“What?” Bianca exclaimed in amazement as a hint of pink rose to Willam’s cheeks despite her stony expression. “How can you still be undeclared? What year are you in?”

“Third,” Willam answered tensely, “And it's not that unusual. I just haven’t found the right thing yet, okay?”

If it wasn’t clear before that this was a touchy subject, the little huff at the end of her defense made it painfully obvious.

“Okay, well...cool.” Bianca grimaced awkwardly. Served her right for trying her hand at some Courtney-esque interview questions. She racked her brain for a lighter topic of conversation. “So...what do you guys...do for fun?”

“Shop,” Willam answered decisively.

“Oh! You know what we should do!” Courtney exclaimed brightly. “We should go to Cielo Plaza tomorrow!”

“What’s that?” Bianca asked, relieved that the subject change had worked.

“A mall,” Willam answered. “It’s no King of Prussia but there are a few good stores in there.”

Bianca wasn’t sure what the fuck “King of Prussia” was, but Courtney breezed right past it, happily pitching how great the activity would be.

“Yeah! And it’s so cute. We could have lunch, find some more decorations for the apartment, get some new clothes-”

“Should ask Alaska if she wants to come too,” Willam said, continuing to speak through mouthfuls of food.

“Of course!” Courtney enthused. “And then Saturday, we could go to the beach! Do you like the beach?”

Bianca did not like the beach. Sand in her asscrack was the last thing she wanted. But the idea of seeing Courtney in a bathing suit was pretty appealing…

“Love the beach,” she said with a smile.  

“Great!” Courtney leaned back proudly.

“So, uh…what about nighttime fun?” Bianca’s eyes flickered unconsciously to Courtney’s glossy lips, the way her tongue toyed with the straw, before quickly adding, “Any good clubs?”

“We’re underage,” Courtney said sweetly.

“Oh, right.” Bianca turned to Willam. “Come on. I know you’ve got a fake ID. Where do you go?”

A secretive, almost mischievous smile spread across Willam’s lips as her eyes narrowed in on Bianca consideringly. There was a confident, daring tone in her voice as she responded with a simple, “Depends.”

Arching her brow, egging her on, Bianca shot back, “On?”

Willam’s smile grew just a little wider as answered, “On what your type of scene is.”

Fully catching onto the joke that had gone over Courtney’s head, Bianca sat back in her seat, arms crossed with an amused grin of her own and asked, “What do you think it is?”

There was a loaded pause as the two stared one another down. Courtney’s eyes darted back and forth in confusion, looking absolutely lost.

Finally, after what felt like a decade of waiting, Willam broke the silence of the group and replied almost smugly, “I think you'll be right at home in Sierra's.”

“Willam!” Courtney scolded harshly as she gave her friend a firm smack to the arm. Turning a bright shade of pink, she turned to Bianca and apologized, lowing her voice, “I'm sorry, that...that's a gay bar.”

The way her voice had dipped into such a low whisper had Bianca laughing on the spot. As soon as she managed to get ahold of herself, she inquired with amusement, “So? What’s wrong with gay bars?”

Stunned, Courtney blinked several times before finding her voice again. “Nothing! That’s not what I-it’s not that there’s anything wrong, she just shouldn’t assume...I mean, if you’re okay with it, then-”

“Well, it’s probably gonna be my best bet at getting laid,” came the nonchalant answer.

Looking rather pleased with herself, Willam piped back up for affirmation, “So you are...?”

Nodding her head, Bianca confirmed, “Mh-mm...And what about you? Casual observer or part of the family?”

“I mean...if that's what I'm in the mood for, yeah.”

“Makes sense,” Bianca quipped as her brow arched, “You do seem like the ‘take it anywhere you can get it’ type.”

The comment earned a loud laugh, one distinct enough to draw the attention of nearly everyone else in the shop. Despite the onlookers, Willam reassured her with a playful grin, “Trust me bitch, it’s not that hard to get it around here...”

“Sounds promising,” Bianca replied before turning back to Courtney, “You alright, dollface? You’ve been awfully quiet over here.”

Stumbling to collect herself, Courtney found herself mumbling, “Oh...um, no. I mean, yeah, I'm not-I mean-”

“Court is straight,” Willam said, saving her from stammering any longer.  

“You don’t say,” Bianca said, trying to sound like she’d known all along. Secretly though, she was a bit surprised. She could have sworn that the blonde had been giving her vibes all day. Well...too bad. Karmic justice, indeed. With a sly sideways glance at her, Bianca clucked, “Pity.”  

Snorting through her laughter, Willam shook her head and said, “Yeah, you wish, bitch. But that pussy’s a boys club.”

“Bill!” Courtney wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Bianca shook her head sadly, asking, “So...you’ve never even been eaten out by someone who actually knows what the hell they're doing down there?”

“Hey! Men can learn!” Courtney exclaimed defensively, then a tiny conspiratorial grin crept onto her face and she admitted, “I mean...hypothetically.”

Bianca burst into cackling laughter.

“Oh, you poor baby,” she cooed, still giggling, slipping an arm around Courtney’s shoulders. Courtney turned to her with a look of good-natured self-pity, lower lip puffed out, batting her lashes slowly for comedic effect.

The more Bianca thought about it, the more she realized that there was something a bit freeing about Courtney being straight. She was straight. There were lines that would never be crossed, ever. So it meant she was safe to flirt and have fun and it would never make her living situation complicated.

Win win, right?

Bianca looked into Courtney’s sparkling green eyes one last time before removing the arm from her shoulder, chuckles dying down.

***

Bianca suggested a stop at the grocery store on the way home, which Courtney realized was a great idea, since she had barely anything stocked, having chosen to eat most of her meals for the past few days in the cafeteria by their building.

Plus, she didn’t mind at all that they were extending their outing, finding Bianca to be both hilarious and fascinating. While Willam was occupied on her phone, Courtney hopped into the cart, beaming up at Bianca.

“Uh, I’m sorry, are your legs broken?” Bianca asked pointedly.

“Come on, please?! I wanna riiiiide,” she wheedled, and Bianca smirked at her.

“Oh, I can give you a ride.”

Courtney bit her lip, both hating and loving the way her stomach twisted every time she looked into Bianca’s brown eyes. It was thrilling, but also terrifying, like being on a rollercoaster--and Courtney loved rollercoasters. She was still a bit miffed at Willam for so adamantly proclaiming her straightness earlier, though she couldn’t really say why. It was true, of course, she was straight, but the way Willam said it so definitively was annoying, especially since she’d only just found out that Bianca was gay moments before.

All Courtney did know, for sure, was that she was having fun, so she decided just to enjoy herself and not stress about it.

They sped through the store, picking up pantry staples and some produce for the next couple of days, along with a few treats that Courtney insisted on...coconut water, dates, kale chips. Bianca pretended to be disgusted by all of it.

At one point, in the freezer aisle, Courtney found herself gazing up at Bianca, admiring again how thick and shiny her hair was. When Bianca leaned over the cart to toss in a package of frozen peas, Courtney reached up, fingering a lock gently.

“Is that your real hair color?” she asked.

“No,” Bianca said, “Not even close. Why, is that your real hair color?” She reached out, unceremoniously ruffling Courtney’s hair.

Courtney ducked and giggled, saying, “Almost! It’s...slightly enhanced.”

A wicked look passed across Bianca’s face as she said, “You know, there’s a way to check that.”

“Eyebrows?” Courtney asked, lashes fluttering innocently.

Bianca cackled gleefully, dark eyes dancing with joy, and said, “Yeah, eyebrows. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

Courtney bit her lip, feeling a surge of pride at making someone as funny as Bianca laugh so hard.

They were almost to the check-out when an employee asked tiredly for her to please get out of the cart.

“Oh yeah, sorry!” she said, scrambling to get up.

“Need a hand?” Bianca asked.

“Thanks.” Courtney let Bianca help her out, one hand holding the cart steady and the other on her waist. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she jumped down and found herself chest to chest with Bianca, close enough to smell her perfume, which was lovely--warm and smoky. It made Courtney want to lean in closer...

“Let’s go!” Willam screeched, slamming the cart into their legs.

“Soz Bill!” Courtney snapped out of her daze and headed for the registers, making sure to snatch a few bars of dark chocolate on the way, chuckling slightly at Willam’s mumbled “that’s so Aussie.”

It was still early when they got back to the apartment, and Courtney was too riled up to sleep, so she suggested opening a bottle of the wine that Bianca bought. Alaska was dozing, so they left her in peace while the three of them sat around Courtney and Willam’s room and chatted for a few more hours. They shared stories about their childhoods and families, generally getting to know each other--at least until Bianca’s eyelids began to look heavy and they sent her off to bed.

As Courtney finally snuggled down into her comforter, lightly buzzed and perfectly content, her last thought was how lucky she was, how wonderful her roommates were, how life-changingly amazing this year promised to be.

[loreweaver-universe]

Since The Wishing Chamber is 99.9% never getting made, here’s some info about the (admittedly PG-13) Pokemon fan-game I plotted out ten years ago.  Lots of details and accumulated art by (off the top of my head) Alanahikarichan, Mopomoko, Zaerosz, my younger sibling Vic, TeddyBara, and NightFlowerLuv:

--Centuries ago, a local trainer, the most powerful in the realm, decided to try to capture the most powerful legend the region told of: Rayquaza.

--All this did was piss it off.

--Eventually, unable to stop Rayquaza’s livid rampage through battling, she went with plan B: Underneath the tallest mountain in the region is an ancient chamber.  In this chamber, Jirachi makes its home.  If you make it through the crumbling ruins and survive the trip, you get one wish--but there can only be one wish at a time, and if you make a new wish, the old one gets undone.  Said trainer wishes for Rayquaza to be sealed away, then takes the key to the Wishing Chamber and carves it up into eighteen pieces, which are slowly distributed amongst what would become the region’s Gym Leaders.

--Set in a heavily forested region with a massive lake to the west, rocky mountains to the east, and snowy ruins to the far north from when Rayquaza went on that rampage.

--I’ll talk about the plot another time, since this turned into a character design post.

--There are eighteen Gym Leaders, which can largely be fought in any order; the region is laid out like a web, with the starting city in the center.  You have to beat eight gyms to reach the endgame plot, and gym leaders have nine teams depending on whether you have 0-8+ badges.

--Gym Leadership in the region is something of a line of succession; the key fragments are passed on to the person that leader most trusts to take up the mantle.

--The Water leader (and this post was inspired by seeing the Galar Water leader, so we’re starting with her) was a self-made hostess who brought herself up from waitressing all the way to being the most famous, uh...what’s the word for rich party-throwing person?  I can’t remember.  Anyways, her name was Marina, she owned an underwater ballroom at the bottom of the lake, and she wore a Milotic dress:

--The Rock, Bug, and Grass leaders were a mother and two daughters, scientists all of them; the mother, the Rock leader, ran a preserve where revived fossil pokemon were studied in an environment replicated to the best of their ability.  She was the Gym Leader Posse’s team mom, even to the leaders that were significantly older than her:

--The Bug and Grass leaders were sisters and rivals, out studying the biology of the pokemon in the southern jungles.  The Grass leader was the older sister, a cheerful earthy type with vine tattoos and a bandana styled after...some Berry or other, I think it was Sitrus?... whose back ties stuck up to look like leaves:

--The Bug leader was the younger of the two, and more grumpy and pretentious.  I mean, just look at her:

--That’ the Ice gym leader, who’s a goofy old janitor at a fancy ski resort in the north.  He’s on par with the two other strongest trainers in the region.  He  just likes things quiet.

--The other two top leaders are Dragon and Fire.  I don’t have a picture of the Dragon leader that wasn’t drawn by a really horrible former friend, and so I won’t be sharing them here, but she’s a philosopher who wanders the eastern mountain ranges--in fact, you’d have to actually track her down in order to even talk to her, let alone have your battle.

--She and the Fire leader had a bit of a free will/determinism split that twenty-year-old Loreweaver thought was quite clever, as twenty-year-old Loreweaver often did, that would play into a binary choice you had to make at the end of the game that would determine which final boss you faced and which of the pair would die saving the other from Rayquaza.  The Fire leader, who’d have been the region’s Champion if the region was structured that way, is a professional explorer who’s the leader of a large adventurer camp in the snowy ruins of the north; they keep Fire pokemon around for warmth and heating and general quality-of-life, and he finances expeditions into the centuries-old ruins to uncover the weird, warped results of the battle and the wish.  When you fight the Fire gym, he actually is the door guide, and he wanders with you through the battles, eventually taking you to a stuffy older fellow with a mustache; when you beat the older guy, he turns to the actual Fire leader in exasperation and asks him to quit pretending, and after a short exchange (which, as he was somewhat a response to the crappy Fire rep in Diamond/Pearl, includes the final lines “What were you expecting, fire puns and a red afro?  These are the big leagues, kid!  Show me what you’ve got!”) you fight the real deal.  You may recognize him as the pathological narcissist writing this post:

--He and the Ghost leader are both descendants of that original, powerful trainer, and are based on myself and my sister Jade.  The Ghost leader, as opposed to Fire’s outgoing, adventurous, burn-myself-at-both-ends lifestyle, has secluded herself in a small cabin in the mid-east forests, because she has the ability to see and speak with departed Pokemon spirits above and beyond the ones strong enough to manifest as Ghost-types...and she’s got a cult following her because of it, who are clustered around her home and act as her “Gym”.  She’s got a ghost Pikachu following her, and she looks like this:

--The Electric and Fairy leaders were a pair of circus performers.  The Fairy leader is a classical circus strongman, who likes to make people feel good about partnering with the pokemon they like rather than what they think others will like:

--Meanwhile, the Electric leader was a stage magician who used his pokemon for magic tricks and was visually based on Ray Narvaez Jr, because I’m a huge fan:

--The inside of his cape is a starfield-pattern, and I’m still really proud of that design decision.

--The Fighting gym leader runs a physical therapy center that caters to both humans and pokemon:

--The Poison leader likewise doesn’t have any art of her that wasn’t from that awful ex-friend, but she runs a chemical processing plant in the starting town that doubles as a home for abandoned Poison-types, who help reprocess dangerous chemical waste into stuff that can be recycled and reused rather than left to gunk things up.

--The Flying leader doesn’t have any art of her at all, but she’s a late-fifties gray-haired recluse who lives in a half-mansion-half-eyrie halfway up one of the eastern mountains.  She hates people, and will make you do increasingly convoluted and pointless fetch quests for her until you get one of the other leaders you’ve beaten to come give her a talking-to.

--The Steel gym is a three-person family, a band; a twelve-year-old girl as the guitarist, the heavily-tattooed mom as the drummer, and a tall, lanky, nordic-metal dad with long blond hair and a Metagross aesthetic as the lead singer.  They also run an orphanage.  I don’t have any art of his final design, but here he is back when he was beefier:

--The Ground leader doesn’t have any art of him, either, but he’s a Bill-Nye-esque children’s scientist who works in the swamps in the western side of the region.

--The Dark gym leader in a Chinese man, a self-made entrepreneur who finances small businesses in one of the region’s larger cities.  Part of the application process is having a battle with him; you don’t have to win, but he decides if you’re trustworthy based on your bond with your pokemon.  His color scheme is specifically based on Umbreon:

--The Psychic leader was a college professor who used his pokemon to help figure out when his students were struggling and what they weren’t getting about the material:

--And the Normal leader was just.  Joey.  Youngster Joey.  He moved here from Johto.  He’s a pokemon breeder now.

ANYWAYS IT’S AN OLD IDEA I’LL PROBABLY NEVER GET TO MAKE I HOPE THIS WAS INTERESTING

[dacrepls-blog]

Gav800 Week - Day Five - Family

Day 5 of @gav800-week

Not too fond of this one and I’ll probs wake up in the morning and edit the shit out of it but here you go !

People had managed to invent androids, cars that drove themselves, made massive leaps in medical capabilities. How the fuck hadn’t they managed to make keyboards that didn’t have that dumb clicking noise every time you pressed a letter?

This is what his job had become. Typing away and finishing up case reports because he wasn’t sanctioned to go back out into the field yet. Something about Fowler not wanting him to ‘have a flashback or a panic attack’ whilst he was out working cases. Connor said that it made sense. Gavin thought it was bullshit.

He wasn’t going to freeze in the middle of a crime scene, he wasn’t going to whimper like a baby because some bad guy tried to run away. He could do his job just as well as he always could. One jackass with a knife wasn’t going to completely fuck up his career. A whole precinct thinking that he was some shitty porcelain little doll? That was going to fuck up his career. All he wanted to do was go to one, singular crime scene. To get out from behind a desk, away from a computer, and try to track down the bad guy, find the motive and the opportunity and then send someone after him so that he can say ‘yeah I solved that’. That was all Gavin wanted.

“Everything okay?”

Gavin turned in his chair to look up at his…. Boyfriend? That was what they called each other outside of work but at work it seemed to be nothing more than work colleagues. He didn’t mind that, or at least he didn’t think he did. It meant things stayed the same, there were no questions asked, no threats from Hank, it was easy. It also kind of sucked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, turning back to the screen, “Just working on a report that I have nothing to do with.”

He was sounding like a whiny baby but he really was over it. He wanted to be out and about but he was stuck.

Connor didn’t make a sound for a short while, his eyes scanning over the screen before he seemed to decide to just completely change the topic of conversation.

Connor’s voice was pitched at a lower tone as he took a seat on the desk, looking down at Gavin. “I was reading about… relationships… online and the common practises-”

“Don’t make it sound too formal, Tincan. Makes it boring.”

Connor went silent again. Gavin spared a glance up towards him and immediately felt guilty. He knew that sometimes he was an ass but that’s how he had always been. It was part of his charm. Connor knew better than to take any of it to heart but Gavin supposed that it was different when it came to their relationship. Unlike Gavin, Connor had never dealt with feelings or relationships or anything like that. It was all so new to him and Gavin should really be taking that into account more than he currently was doing.

“.. Sorry. You were saying?”

That seemed to cheer him up a little, or at least reignite that slight excitement that Connor seemed to always to have stowed away from somewhere in his unit.

“I was reading about relationships whilst I didn’t have any cases to- well, it doesn’t matter when, I suppose.”

Gavin’s face must have pulled some sort of look. It was the only reasonable explanation behind why he would stop talking about the cases that he was working on. Instead of saying anything, he gestured for Connor to carry on again rather than waste time.

“Well… it seems to be a common thing where they… boyfriend is introduced as the… boyfriend, so I came to the conclusion that you should join Hank and I for supper tonight.”

If Gavin had been drinking coffee then it would have currently been dripping down the computer screen because that was not what he was expecting. He was expecting something more… date-like,l not… meet the father sort of thing. Also this was Hank. Hank Anderson. The grumpy old Police Lieutenant that hated his guts.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

Connor tilted his head to one side, a confused look crossing his features again. “Well… yes. That’s why I’m suggesting it.”

“The issue with that, Con, is that Hank hates me, and rightly so. Like… I’m an asshole and the fact that you’re here and you’ve stuck it out is a gift. Like, I really appreciate it, and I’m super grateful, as you know, but me and Hank? Having dinner? Being civil? I don’t know whether it’s going to go how you want it to go.”

He wasn’t trying to upset him or anything like that but he wasn’t going to sugarcoat something that he really didn’t think was going to go well. Connor was setting himself up for failure right now. It was going to be a fail between him and Hank for a while and as soon as he found out that he was making out with his adopted son it was going to be so much harder to make him see that he was a good guy. Hell, Hank would probably think that Gavin was blackmailing him or making him do it against his will. It was going to be so much effort to get around that stick.

“How is Hank meant to start liking you if you don’t give him the chance to know you?”

Well that was a question and a half because there was no answer that didn’t make him look stupid. Gavin couldn’t really argue against that one. How was he meant to get Hank to like him if he avoided him at all cost? Avoiding Hank was the easiest thing to do but he also knew that the best thing to do, at least for Connor, was try and make an effort to show Hank that he wasn’t a complete ass and Connor was with him because he wanted to be, not because he was being forced to be with him.

“Fine. Send me his address and I’ll get there for seven.”

*-*-*-*

“You gotta be shitting me, Connor.”

Gavin rolled his eyes from where he was crouched in the doorway, hands scratching through the soft fur of the Saint Bernard that had charged him as soon as he had stepped his way into the house. At least there was something that made this whole dinner thing worthwhile - other than Connor, of course.

“Hank, I don’t think you’re-”

“No, Connor. No. This asshole has done nothing but give you shit since day one. What do you mean ‘you’re dating’? Are you fucking stupid?”

“Hank, Gavin hasn’t given me shit since the revolution. You would know that if you ever listened to anything that I was going to say without jumping in to yell about how it’s all bullshit.”

“Jumping in to yel- Connor. You’re being stupid.”

Gavin was ready to say goodbye to Connor and the dog and just head back to his own apartment. This wasn’t going to work. Hank wasn’t going to back down, that was clear. Then again, he didn’t want to admit defeat, especially not to Hank fucking Anderson. That would be too embarrassing for him and he would have to hand in his badge and become a recluse because that was the only possible right thing to do when admitting to defeat to Hank Anderson.

“Hank. Please.”

And that was all it took, paired with some puppy dog eyes, for Hank to give in to Connor’s will and fifty minutes later they were sat around the table eating whatever pasta dish it was that Connor had prepared, a terse silence between them that was only broken by the dog - now known as Sumo - and the under the breath grumbling that was coming from the older man.

They didn’t really talk much, every time he went to Hank fixed him a look. Whilst that would usually be enough to make Gavin start chatting shit purely to piss him off but this was important to Connor and that, for the moment, anyway.

Connor eventually moved to clear the plates away  before heading through to the bathroom, and Gavin was silently hoping, praying, for the silence to carry on but as soon as the android was far enough away for Hank he started to speak.

“I don’t know what you’re doing here, Reed, but you should stop. Connor’s my family-”

“Yeah, he’s your adopted son. I get it. You’ve made it plenty clear. But your family over there is in this through choice. Do you really think he’d let himself be dragged into something against his will? The dude beat my ass and left me on the floor. I’m not trying anything, I’m not setting him up to embarrass him. It’s nothing like that. So get the fuck over it and yourself and just let the dude do what he wants.”

With that, Gavin stood from the chair and headed in the direction that Connor had moved, letting himself into the bathroom. He wasn’t at all surprised to find Connor sat on the edge of the tub doing nothing.

“You know, for an android you’re not all that slick, Tincan,” he teased as he moved to sit on the edge of the tub beside him, “Shoulda guessed that you were going to leave me to try and talk to Hank. This isn’t going to go as well as you think it is and I get that you have statistics and all that shit but this is me and Hank. He’s gonna think you’re being forced into this and he’s gonna talk shit about me and it’s something that you gotta get used to, at least for a while. And it’s gonna suck cause family not supporting you is shitty. I know that but if-”

He cut himself off because the words that were going to follow on were almost an ultimatum and that wasn’t something that he wanted to give out when he couldn’t figure out how much Connor was willing to stick out.

“You’re my family too. So you’re going to have to try and he is too but you being here is a start and I appreciate that.”

Connor was smiling at him, looking over at him as Gavin tried to figure out what he was supposed to be doing next. Instead Gavin decided to say fuck it to words and leaned forwards, kissing Connor gently. It was only a quick peck, nothing stupid or too much, but just enough to let Connor know that he was serious about the whole making an effort thing.

“Thank you, Gavin.”

“No problem, Tincan. For you.”

[lumilasi]

So. Originally I meant Adam be my main, but I decided I should go with Azul and Reuben instead, given how many connections they have to the other ocs I and my friend got. They are clearly more of the center of focus.

Also there’s a bio for Azul’s familiar Lasha.

Who is a total hoe. 

At first glance anyway, there’s more to him than that actually.

Anyway, character bio; 

Name: Azul Samaros

He/him

Height: 177 cm

Human mage

Age: 25

Dark Arts master of the Kingdom of Valencia

personality:

Azul is known to be very quiet, only talking when he legit has things to say. He’s also very blunt and honest, and has a dry sense of humor. He is the type to often take matters into his own hands and act before asking for permission. 

He is a highly protective big brother, and while he tends to act like a dick to his lil bro (who acts like a dick back, it’s a bro thing) he loves Reuben dearly and would literally kill anyone who dared to hurt him.

Despite his apparent grumpy nature, Azul is actually far more patient than one would think initially, as it is really hard to make him angry. He can stand his brother’s mishaps and his familiar’s flirty behavior without batting an eyelid for hours. 

Important people:

His brother Reuben: https://lumilasi.tumblr.com/post/174471835666/next-oc-done-this-time-its-azul-feisty-lil-bro

His teacher Lionel: https://lumilasi.tumblr.com/post/174634983311/i-was-supposed-to-finish-him-ages-ago-but-had

Alexander (his king, TBA)

Mellina (His Queen, TBA)

Helias (former ruler, Gwendolyn’s brother): https://lumilasi.tumblr.com/post/174053975541/so-ive-been-busy-with-working-on-designs-for

Gwendolyn (his GF of sorts and also an Empress): https://mad-hatter-rici.tumblr.com/post/174081334714/my-best-pal-since-2010-decided-to-create-a-tumblr

His brother’s Djinn and his familiar’s love interest Athem: https://mad-hatter-rici.tumblr.com/post/174755800804/athem-the-djinn-yeah-so-here-is-another-oc-for-the

Familiar Lasha (more info at the end)

Abilities:

Azul is a dark magic mage so he knows a lot about curses and summoning spells, and can perform those as well, not to mention create enchanted objects or poisons. He can also solidify shadows as a weapon. 

He has the ability to put a sleeping spell on people, this one is sort of his trademark as he uses it a LOT, whenever he wants his bro or Lasha to shut up, or if he needs someone to rest due to their injuries.

He can also command Lasha as he pleases, though mainly uses the snake’s skills for intelligence gathering and occasional massages. He doesn’t want to use Lasha in battles too much both because the snake demon might go a bit far, and because he honestly is concerned the dumbass would hurt himself badly. 

Weaknesses:

His tendency to act before asking for permission can sometimes lead into rather bad results, where he meddles into something he shouldn’t have. 

He is terrible at making friends because most find him highly intimidating. He mainly really chats with his brother casually, or his familiar. Overall, he just has the tendency to come off cold and blunt, which might be learned from the way his teacher acted. His habit of not always getting enough sleep and staying up too much is also learned from Lionel, although in his master’s case it was fine, since as a Chesire, he didn’t need as much sleep as Azul does.

He is a skilled mage, but there are always those who are more skilled, such as his teacher, Lionel, and sometimes Azul overestimates his abilities.

Fun Facts

- Azul could be considered Demisexual, as one really needs to gain his trust before he can actually feel attracted to them - something Gwendolyn managed to do. He doesn’t care too much whom he’s romantically involved with, at least when it comes to gender. His current lover just happens to be a woman. 

- Azul is pretty kinky and aggressive lover, which Gwendolyn actually enjoys a lot given how feisty she is.

- He sometimes contacts his wandering teacher trough Astral plane if there is more serious matter to discuss

- Azul’s most precious possession is a ritual knife he got from Lionel (the one he can use to contact him) his teacher, and he is highly possessive over this item due to the incredible emotional value it holds. He will get pissy if anyone touches it without his permission, and might either stab, curse or just punch them, or otherwise make their day miserable. The only two people who are allowed to touch it are Reuben and Lasha.

- His nicknames for Lasha are Lash, hoe, Slutnoodle and dumbass.(Lasha has a habit of flirting a lot, and before Reuben found Athem, Lasha also slept around quite a bit)

- He calls his brother either Ruby or Reubie (or dumbass number two)

- He himself is nicknamed “the Blue Demon” by the common folk because he tends to terrify them a lot. 

- Azul is one of the very few people Empress Gwendolyn trusts to see the horrid scarring on her back from the demon attack century ago. 

- Azul can go on for days without sleep, though usually someone eventually knocks him out when he starts getting ridiculous with it.

- That claw thing on his finger is something he uses to bleed magic essence from things. it is based on Helias’ feathers that have similar ability.

BG story in a nutshell:

Reuben and Azul were orphaned brothers whose home village was destroyed by a rampaging magical fire, which originated from their lunatic of a father trying to enchant Reuben’s elemental powers with a forbidden ritual, and causing the boy’s power to lash out of control. They ended up in Mirthas where they lived up to their late teens, during which time both were trained in their respective magic skills, Azul being trained by Mirthas’ master exorcist Lionel. After Reuben’s mental state got worse due to the nightmares and guilt over what happened back in their home village, Azul and Lionel decided to erase every bit of memory from Reuben’s mind regarding to the incident, portecting his sanity.

During their time in Mirthas, Azul summoned himself a familiar, who freaked Lionel out at first upon realizing he was the same type of demon as the one who’d attacked their Kingdom years ago. However, upon seeing how well Azul connected with the snake, he allowed the boy to keep it. He also managed to develop a bond with the then reclusive Empress of Mirthas, who’d been keeping herself away from public eye due to heavy emotional scarring and shame. Azul’s honest, no nonsense nature helped to ease the troubled Empress’ mind, and she grew fond of the young mage.

Azul ended up in his current Kingdom of Valencia after taking a trip there with his brother and the Empress, who was requested to aid her old friends with something. The two brothers grew fond of the human kingdom and decided to stay, especially after Reuben went and fell in love with their elder prince.

So that’s all about Azul for now

Here’s bits about Lasha

Age: Unknown, but he says he’s at least a couple centuries old

Height: 185 cm

Length (snake form): about 4-5 meters

Demon Type: 

He’s what they call “Arthan” which refers to members of the lost kingdom of Arthanos who ended up succumbing into their own magic power and turning into demons. Another name - the one primarily used - is Silver Night Beasts as often they have an element of their body that appears like the night sky and glimmers silvery with “stars”

Personality: 

He’s highly flirty, physically affectionate and seductive, coming off as somebody highly confident with their looks and not afraid to use that advantage. Most of the time he acts calm and well-mannered, though he is mischievous too, playing tricks on people (harmless; Azul would get pretty angry if he hurt people without permission) and loves being paid attention to. 

That being said, he genuinely cares for his Master and gets highly testy if someone insults Azul or his brother Reuben. As a snake, he can act almost cutesy and silly. 

When it comes to his master brother’s Djinn - whom he knows personally from the past - Lasha’s behavior can change drastically and reminds more of how he used to be as human; loud, aggressive, blunt and sarcastic. Athem just seems to know exactly how to push his buttons.

The same time it’s pretty obvious to everyone around them that Lasha still loves him and his blunter attitude is born more out of absolute trust towards Athem and lack of need to control himself and portray himself in a certain manner. basically, he acts a bit more natural with Athem.

He can also be extremely childish and playful around his childhood friend/boyfriend in a manner that resembles what he usually does only in his snake form. 

Abilities:

He is IMMENSELY strong physically, able to even damage the most powerful creature types of their world like Nephilins (Gwendolyn and Helias) or White Tigers (Rayna) He can rip humans to shreds with ease, and his claws in human form are so sharp he can cut trough metals and thick rock. 

He has four forms he can shift in between; a full human form with legs, a half-human, half-snake naga form with two variations; a “friendly” one where his human upper body looks like how he normally looks in human form, and a “demonic” look where his face turns more demonic with a snake-like jaw, no eyebrows and his hair turns inverted with colors. This form is also MUCH larger than normal, easily towering over people with being near three meters tall (not including the tail part, simply the human body) Last form is the tiny snake which is weakest, but he prefers it outside battles (or making out) as it conserves energy.

Lasha, like other demons of his kindred, has a curse he can inflict upon others; his is called “Euphoria” where he can inject or blow powerful poison on people that drives them to extreme bloodlust, or uncontrollable mad cackles that won’t stop, or other extreme types of hormonal rush or so, to the point they eventually die from too much stress put upon your body. 

Lasha can traverse trough shadows like most demons and turn invisible, and see into people’s dreams. He also has a mental link with his master, able to communicate with him wordlessly. 

He’s an excellent dancer as well and gives reeeally good massages.

Weaknesses:

Being a bound demon, he is not as powerful as he would be when freed. Like majority of dark beings, light magic is pretty effective against him.

Lasha has a demon-type specific weakness where someone using his original name from his time as a human can basically gain complete control over him, making him lose his autonomy entirely, both body and mind if the name-wielder wishes so. The only being able to override this enslavement is his Deity Belias as he always knows the human identity of his demons. Lucky for Lasha, finding out ones original name isn’t easy.

Unluckily, there is a person in his current life that knows it, though he would never use it against him voluntarily, as he loves Lasha. (Athem)

In his snake form, he is pretty vulnerable and can get badly hurt from just stepping on him. 

His past has left him with traumas, and at times he might wake up in a fit of anxiety where he is unable to speak, nor change his form from whatever it is (snake or humanoid) even if he wanted to. 

Fun facts:

- Lasha is a lil intimidated by huge ass tall people, because Mirthas’ Kingdom Bear shape-shifter guardian Cain accidentally stepped on him once. it hurt, a lot.

- He has a habit of nuzzling Azul’s hair as a form of innocent affection; it’s  a habit he developed during their first year of knowing each other.

- Lasha’s favorite people to flirt with for shits and giggles are Azul and Gwendolyn. His flirting style is very different then though, when compared to the person he actually loves; Lasha can be very well spoken and charming when flirting with peeps he’s not serious about, but with Athem he can be absolutely childish.

- His curse bases on what he felt when he first transformed into a demon; in Lasha’s case he was in the middle of a bloody battle and was enjoying it to a disturbing degree.

- Ironically, he’s actually calmer now as a demon than he was as a human, according to Athem who knew him when he was human

- Lasha’s favorite napping spot in snake form is his master’s shoulders. In human form he sleeps on Azul’s bed as it’s often unoccupied anyway due to Azul’s night-owl habits. He does also like to go and use Athem as a pillow whenever he’s available.

- The ruby pendant he wears in human form is the symbol of his contract with Azul, as it used to belong to Azul originally.

BG story in a nutshell:

Lasha was once a warrior of Arthanos, a lost Kingdom known for its dark magic and powerful warriors. He was one of the “channelers” warriors who could channel their deity’s magic power. Like every Channeler, he was paired with a normal warrior, who happened to be his childhood friend Athem. 

Athem had been in love with him since they were kids, and always tried to reign in Lasha’s violent tendencies, though rarely succeeding in it. In turn, Lasha found him an “annoying nag” or “party popping, straight-laced, goody-two-shoes bore with a stick up his ass, and not the good kind.”

Despite his harsh words, Lasha did actually return the feelings aimed at him, he just didn’t want to admit it openly.

It was Athem who was forced to banish Lasha into the dark realm once he transformed, as Lasha almost killed him. The snake didn’t really recall Athem or any of these events up until he appeared back into his new life as a Djinn.

Sometime during his demon years, Lasha was under another master who treated him horribly, thus resulting into his traumas. 

The reason why he adores his current master so much is because of his past experience, as Azul is actually decent towards him - aside from the name-calling and smacking his head when he misbehaves - which Lasha is really glad about, as part of him still yearns to be treated like a human and not a monster.

Wow.

Lot of stuff here.

I’ll update this later on likely, right now my brain is emptied out of creative juices after typing all that on the fly

Art and characters (C) Me

[asknlarchivist]

Dear Miraka,

Remember how you told me I should be hanging out with friends more? I finally took your advice to heart and decided to convince Orpheus to come out with me on this trip. I’m sorry you got sick and couldn’t come along this time, I know how much you were really looking forward to it and all, but thank you for taking care of the children again while I’m away - you know how I always appreciate that. At the very least we got some decent photos to show you all when I get back. Oh, but you’ll never guess what happened on the way there, I don’t think I’ll ever let Orph live this one down!

So we managed to get to the site by around noon and...

I love rain. Truly I am blessed to have respawned as an enderman who can touch water. I love the way it sounds, the way it smells, the chill it gives me when it hits my scales and trickles down my body... ever since I was little I’ve always been utterly fascinated by the magic water that falls from the sky. Of course, I could still do without the lightning and loud thunder that sometimes accompanies a good storm. Like all sudden loud noises thunder has the unfortunate tendency to set off my PTSD from time to time.

Luckily it wasn’t a big stormy rain today, so I felt safe enough. Standing there on the hillside I took a deep inhale: wet soil and pine. Nothing compares to that rainy forest smell. It was an addictive, arousing fragrance, heavy with earthy scent and humidity that threatened to lure me back down into the shadow of the woods I just came from. I was born and raised in these parts, the Extreme Hills biome; this was my country, and I knew the terrain well. As such I was in high spirits right now and felt like nothing could faze me. Didn’t even mind the rain staining my poncho. Now to see if the forecast for this area would hold true...

A deep grumble at my side reminded me that for once I wasn’t trekking solo. Ah yes. My dear friend Orpheus the cave spider. A recluse like myself with far less thirst for adventure. And on top of that, much less love of the current weather. Could you blame him? All that fur was keeping him dry for now, sure, but at the same time his salvation was proving his doom because the water was sticking to him and collecting and probably already starting to seep deeper into rapidly drenching fluff. Needless to say he was pretty miserable.

“At the risk of sounding cliché, are we there yet?” he asked me without turning my way. Too busy glaring at the sky.

“I guess,” I answered casually as I pretended not to take heed of his discomfort. “This seems like a pretty good spot. Not a lot of treeline blocking the view - no shade too close nearby for aggressive mobs to spawn in... yeah, this’ll do nicely.”

“Great, can we please find some shelter already then? It’s cold and I’m getting soaked.”

I snickered at him. Walking sponge out here he was. “Alright, let’s find us a cave or something. I could do with lunch too. You?”

The mention of food perked him up somewhat and I had my answer. We’d been walking at least two days now. After half a century at this I could handle the journey easily, but Orpheus was a man... er... a spider... a being who had lived alone underground for literally as long as he could remember, ever since a series of events drove him from his original homeland and he suffered amnesia not too long after. As much as I was amused by his complaints and maybe a bit annoyed at the numerous rest stops we had to make along the way, I had to take pity on the guy; the brightness of daylight was surely causing him constant headaches if nothing else. And he wasn’t used to walking this far, let alone over the various types of terrain one encounters in this part of Overworld. When we hit snow passing through an Ice Plains biome I had to all but drag his big spider backside through it once the initial novelty wore off. Not because of the cold - well, not only because of it... more because he kept sinking hip-deep into the stuff the whole way.

But somehow he endured this long. And at this point in time we had finally reached journey’s end. Tonight he would be rewarded for his efforts... I silently prayed he’d like the surprise I set up for him. More than once he had asked me where we were going and why and when we’d be headed back home. All I told him was that it was something special Mira and I had planned months ahead of time on going to see. Poppy and Faith were still too young to make the trip this year so we were going to leave them behind with their godmother Wily and her mod Coati. But then the winter air got to Miraka and she was bedridden a scant few days before we were set to head out. It would be disastrous for her to go now when she needed so badly to keep indoors and recover. I honestly wanted to stay home with her - if she was gonna’ miss out then I would too, I would not have minded in the least. But my stubborn mod, she insisted I go anyway.

It wouldn’t be any fun without her, I told her. Then she asked me why not bring somebody else along? But who? It wasn’t like I had many really close friends who could spare the time last-minute. Well... except for one. He was perhaps closest of all my friends, maybe even my best friend. He almost always spared the time for me...

And that was how, days later, I found myself like this... In this hole in the rock with a griping cave spider morph. Boy was I gonna’ milk this for all it was worth.

“Lookin’ a little wet there, huh Orph old boy? I’m really loving this whole grunge thing you got going on, so edgy.”

“Shut up. You know this is all your fault. You were taking your time on purpose weren’t you.”

I shrugged without bothering to deny it. “Hey, one should always take the time to savor their surroundings while traveling, no?”

“Not while they’re getting rained on. Come on, it’s Winter. That’s just asking for flu to set in.”

“Why Orpheus, I had no idea you were so conscientious about personal health!”

“Yeah well, I’m also having to rely on you to take us back when this is all over. And we both know you can’t teleport when you’re too sick to even stand.”

“Thanks for doing the laundry, by the way.”

“Hmph.”

He did have a point. We walked here on foot because we were both worried as to how well Orpheus would be able to handle ender-blinking. And if he was going to get nauseous I wasn’t about to subject him to that sort of suffering more than absolutely necessary. That would’ve been cruel. No, the plan from the start had been decided on unanimously: walk to our destination, then teleport on the way back so we could return home as quickly and safely as possible before the frost week arrived. I would’ve preferred walking back if I could help it, however. Savor the scenery, savor the journey. Perhaps my comrade would be willing to discuss the matter later?

“How long do you think it’ll keep raining?” He seemed more at ease being in the safety of our little hollow but still looked at the sky in annoyance like it was mocking him. Knowing his luck it probably was.

“Hate to break it to you but I’m afraid we’re stuck here the rest of the day. It’s not supposed to stop until this evening, but should at least clear up enough tonight to see the stars. You... you like stars, right?”

Orpheus glanced out of the corner of all eight of his eyes at me. He looked suspicious almost, and for a moment I was afraid I had given too much away about the surprise. But he huffed and cleared his throat, then settled down against the cave wall opposite me. “I suppose. Yes. I like stars...”

“When was the last time you went stargazing?”

“Last time I went hunting. I hunt at night you know, so I see the stars all the time.”

I looked out at the rain again as silence set in between us. It wasn’t all that uncomfortable, though, not for me. I felt at ease even with my clothes soaked through (though I would’ve probably gotten hypothermia had it not been for the fire). Some days Orpheus was more conversational than others but it was fine. As far as I knew I was his only friend besides his own mod Seffiron. I understood; he wasn’t used to having somebody to talk to. At least I had my children, my family - Orpheus had had nobody for who knows how long... well, until now. He sort of needed to... ease into the whole interacting-with-other-people thing.

“Are you cold?” I asked him.

He actually snarled softly. “I’m freezing.”

“Sit by the fire then, you dingus, didn’t you just say you were worried about catching death of pneumonia?”

“That was the flu, and I am sitting by it.”

“You’re three whole feet further away from it than I am.”

“It’s plenty warm over here.”

“Says Mr. Freezing. Come on, come sit by me, huh? ... Or is it really that you’re just afraid of catching fire?” That got me a ruby-tinged eyeroll. Four pairs of it. I snickered at him. “Dear sweet arachnid companion, mine, you must be so mad at me right now for dragging you out in the middle of nowhere like this.”

His face suddenly softened as he turned to look at me. “I’m not mad at you.” I tilted my head at him curiously and didn’t have to wait long for him to elaborate on that for me. “I could never be mad at you. Not really. You’ve never been malicious towards me. Sure, you bug me with your constant teasing but you’re not really trying to be mean about it.”

“Ehh, you say it’s kindness when really it’s only pity - you’re just too easy a target.” That earned me a wet slap in the face by my own poncho. Even while my ears were at the moment filled with the sound of my indignant sputtering I could still hear that jerk smirking.

“Target that,” he quipped smugly. Aha. Once again I had managed to unearth the playful side of him. Success! It would get his mind off of being grumpy over the rain at least.

---

For the rest of the day we killed time however we could. We chatted, ate a few tidbits here and there, even scratched a few rounds of Hangman on the cave walls when the boredom got to be too much. At one point Orpheus tried to take a nap but his fur was still cold and damp, preventing him from getting any real rest. So, he eventually gave up on sleep altogether to dry off by the fire. If I thought the rain made his fur stick out more than usual, I was genuinely shocked by how ragged it got after the water fully evaporated. 

“My GOD, you are fluffy.” It was all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing. He reminded me of a poofy kitten. A very startled poofy kitten. With big fangs. He was... so adorable. Ohhh, but he would kill me in a heartbeat if I had said that out loud to his face.

The thing about Orpheus is that while he’s got twice as many arms as I do, his fingers just aren’t that great at combing and brushing. More often than not his sad attempts would leave patches of fur spiky when it dried. Now, while I obviously didn’t own a brush, my fingers were just the right size (and number of digits of course) for such a task... What kind of friend wouldn’t offer to lend a hand? I admit I had my ulterior motives for doing so, too; I had on more than one occasion confessed to Seffiron about my guilty pleasure of feeling all that plushness in my hands. When it’s groomed correctly Orpheus’ fur is nothing short of luxurious - think polyester blanket, one of those thick silky-textured ones. It’s great.

“You’re pouting,” I observed. To be fair it hadn’t taken much convincing at all to let me do this for him; he indulged me this sort of thing all the time, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary where I was concerned. He had long since gotten used to my brand of friendliness. So why was he still upset? “Is this bothering you? We can stop if you want.” It was a full minute of stubborn silence where he refused to answer me on that. Maybe he was having trouble deciding.

“... Spider sourpuuuusss~”

“I’m itchy, be quiet.” Weak excuse. He was sore about my calling him fluffy. Like I called it earlier, he was far too easy.

“Then here, lemme’ scratch that itch for you,” I said, raking my claws in lightly. I still believed him on being itchy. I had seen firsthand how murderous the urges made him in the heat of Summer. “Anything you want, I am yours to command.”

“You’re just like your mod, always babying me.”

“Aw you like it. Besides, somebody’s gotta’ help you untangle your pelt now and then, that’s what friends are for.” With no more objections from him I continued without another word. We went on like this for a good while longer until it was so dark out we could no longer see the landscape (the rain had stopped by now but it was still overcast) and all was eerily quiet save for the crackling fire. Nothing but the two of us, removed from all manner of civilization for hundreds of miles in every direction, spending a peaceful evening in each other’s company. I was dragging it out, savoring the contact of fur between my fingers as much as I could, for as long as I could... One of these days Orpheus was gonna’ accuse me of being touch-starved. But it wasn’t like he wasn’t enjoying himself, either. He even started purring on me once I worked my way up to his jawline and around his mandibles... big puppy. I’m glad he’s come to trust me enough to where he can feel safe around me. Emotionally safe... if we were to ever find ourselves caught in a fight against a bunch of undead mobs, I could always rely on Orph to get us out of that scrape no problem. Scaling rock walls all day and hunting large prey all night has given him a terrifying amount of physical strength - pray you never end up on the receiving end of it. But when it comes to being able to talk to someone, to come to the point where several times he’s confided in me his deepest fears and told me about his most terrifying nightmares that have plagued him for years on end... Bits and pieces of his memory began to come back some time ago. I was amazed to find out how similar his past was to mine. He wasn’t always a cave spider, he was once a human. Furthermore he was a highly-respected figurehead in his village. He was also a father with a wonderful family, and beautiful children that adored him. His life was absolutely storybook perfect. And then... 

The details he gave me were still fuzzy but the gist of it was that things went south faster than anyone could blink. Family dead. Home destroyed, the entire village was rendered to blazing shambles. Orpheus was both cursed and injured and whichever person helped him escape died or disappeared under mysterious circumstances. And then he was left alone. When the mutation completely took hold that was when the amnesia set in. Given what had just happened to him I think that was the greatest mercy fate could ever give him.

Recalling this part always made me a little sullen; I was never so lucky in that I was spared from remembering what had happened to me. Or what I did... But I would never hold that against Orpheus. Before we met, every night he was tormented by the same thing, over and over again. Now the burden on his conscience was easier for him to bear - he had somebody to help him shoulder the weight. These days the nightmares are rarer, and I can’t help but feel a sense of personal pride over being the one to help him reach that point. Perhaps one day I would afford him the same courtesy and tell him my story too. Until then...

“Why did you stop?”

Hearing Orpheus’ voice jolted me back to reality. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

“You tend to do that a lot.” He chuckled and settled his head back against my chest.

“But of course,” I stated matter-of-factly. “It’s just what I do.”

“You were frowning like you were worried about something. Or angry. It’s hard to tell when you’re upside-down.”

“Fff, yeah yeah.” I looked away then, still too wrapped up in my thoughts to resume combing his fur out. Not that it needed it anymore, it was nice and soft now without a trace of clumped spikiness. Well and truly silky. Anything after this point was purely for the sake of touch between us.

One of his hands from his lower set brushed my leg, tickling me out of my thoughts again. “Hey, Overworld to Nameless... What’s wrong.”

More silence from me. For all my intelligence coming up with what to say in the moment was hard sometimes.

“I’ll tickle your feet next if you don’t talk to me.”

“Do that and I’ll freaking kick you,” I retorted with laughter. Orpheus knew all too well how sensitive my pads were. “I just... I’m really glad you’re my friend.”

At this he treated me to a gentle smile and rubbed his head against me where he lay. “I’m glad you’re my friend too.” And then after a few beats he added “Even if you and your mod are both weirdly touchy-feely.”

“Gk~ you mean especially because we are you great big spider-turd, you! And as if you’re one to talk! Hypocrite!” I crossed my arms in mock indignation and covered his eyes with them. I expected him to flail about in disorientation but he only huffed a laugh and grabbed my legs with two hands firmly and lifted - the other two hands took position poised beneath my raised feet, fingers wiggling menacingly. Clearly I was playing a dangerous game far out of my league but I wasn’t about to submit so easily. Instead I leaned down close to his face and hissed “Do it and I will teleport you face-first into the nearest bog and leave you there.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

We sat there at an impasse for what felt like ages, both frozen, both deathly afraid to make the first move. And then I felt a jab right into my armpit (the scheming devil, he sneak-attacked my other ticklish spot while I was distracted!), making me squawk and lightly slap at him wherever I could reach like the fussy child I was. He only laughed at me, very loudly to boot, until I couldn’t help but start laughing too. It went on until we were both spent and wheezing and oh Notch my middle hurt so bad but I couldn’t care less.

Eventually we both calmed down and I announced that we needed to get some  rest, for which he had no complaints. He soon fell asleep practically in my lap. Unfortunately for me, I had my square head braced up against hard rock for a pillow. That was guaranteed neck pain later on for sure, but I didn’t care; Orpheus was keeping us both warm and I couldn’t ask for a better blanket in these temperatures. Sleep overtook me quickly.

---

I managed to wake myself up again some time later. It was close to time for that surprise I promised. The forecast proved right, miraculously so. From our little burrow hiding spot I could see the ethereal glowing blue of the sky outside, clear and speckled with stars that cast their soft light over the world. The moon was nowhere to be seen, but all the better to see what lie out in the vastness of space above. Absolutely 100% no light pollution in this place to hinder our ability to see what was to come. Good. This was exactly what I had counted on. I checked my clock to find that it was late, almost midnight in fact. Excellent. It was almost time...

This time of night the nocturnal world was quietly active. An owl here and there, the slight sway of branches as a cool breeze blew through the pines below us. The grass outside had long since dried (the rain wasn’t all that heavy today we were just out in it too long) and it was almost like there hadn’t been a storm at all. Except for the temperature. It was still plenty chilly but rainy days tended to be warmer in Winter than cloudless ones. Right now the atmosphere hadn’t yet dropped in too many degrees. I would need to sit by the fire again before too long but for now the cold was bearable. As for my partner, he needn’t worry about such trifles whatsoever. Perfect... Fate dealt me a great hand tonight. Orpheus was gonna’ love this!

Speaking of which, I was still trapped under him in his sleep. I tried to nudge him awake while still yawning myself.

“Hey... wake up... Orpheus... Or... Orpheus... Wa-... Oh my god Notch give me strength. HNNNNGGG~” Spider was a lot of fur but, again, he was also a quarter-ton of muscle and dense carapace. My stringy bean self didn’t have a chance against this kind of weight. Thankfully all my struggling at long last woke him up so I could revive both my dead legs.

“Sometimes I wonder how you can move so fast along walls when you’re this FAT.”

“I’m not fat??”

“Tell that to your butt.”

“That’s not my butt, that’s my abdomen, you know that.”

“Still fat.”

“Yeah, well, what would you know of it, you’re just a twig with scales.”

“And fabulous legs... Which I can NOT feel because YOUR FAT SPIDER BUTT was laying on top of both of them! Gaaahhh~”

He sighed at me. “In that case you could’ve just had me sleep somewhere else.”

“Heh... nah. You looked so peaceful. And you make a great blanket.”

“Gee, in that case, so happy I can provide you with warmth so you could wake me up ungodly early and verbally abuse me for it later.” He pouted dramatically my way for emphasis. 

“Come on don’t be like that. I’m about to make it up to you.” Finally. Sensation in my legs again. Orpheus held out his hand to me so I could take it and haul myself up, and I most gratefully did so.

“Really? Make it up to me how?”

“Think about it. You don’t honestly believe I hauled you three days into the mountains just to look at a bunch of wet trees, do you?”

“So if not for that, then what?”

“Hurry up and I’ll show you! Don’t wanna’ miss it!” 

---

“Did you know, Orpheus, that while most of the time I travel with the intent of finding something new and unknown, this week I’ve brought you out here to see one very specific thing in particular?”

“And what might that b- are you alright? What’s wrong?”

I had walked out into the clearing with him with my eyes covered. I was so focused on what I was doing I failed to realize he was even talking to me at first.

“... Nameless?”

“I’m alright. I’m just letting my night vision take hold.”

“Your night vision?”

“I told you before about my third eyelid, right? The thing that makes me able to function in daylight and avoid aggro mode when talking to people?”

I heard him shuffle a few steps away from me - presumably in worry. “Yeah?”

“Tch, don’t be so nervous, you’re not a human anymore. You’re not gonna’ set me off. Anyways, I have to let my eyes adjust to the new light when I retract my ‘shades’. I can’t see squat in the dark otherwise, but I always have to be c-careful.” My voice was beginning to lose strength without warning. Was my resolve failing? I guess I was just excited... or afraid. My hands were off my face now but I was gathering the courage to look at my friend - come to think of it I couldn’t even remember the last time I had shown this part of myself to anybody else, save for my family of course.

“I... I have to t-take it slow. Even dim light might hurt my eyes if I switch too fast.”

“There... Ah, oh yeah that’s much better. Wow, it’s really sparkly tonight, isn’t it? It’s fantastic!”

Orpheus... didn’t say anything. In fact, I dare say he went uncharacteristically mute on me.

“... Orpheus? Oh! That’s right, my eyes glow in the dark too, I forgot! I am so sorry! Did I startle you??”

After moving his jaw numbly in what was certainly no small amount of shock at my little deformity (poor thing) I finally heard him swallow and watched him smooth his fur back down from where it had fluffed up in fright.

“I... y-yyyou’re...” Curse it all to the Nether, he was scared witless just like that. Before I could explain myself and assure him that he was in no danger, his gaze flicked up to somewhere behind me, just as a thin streak of white crossed my peripheral. Soon more like it lit across the sky. Fast, bright needles of starlight, one after the other... celestial rain.

“The Angel’s Tears,” I breathed.

“Wha’~” It was so funny seeing Orpheus stunned into silence at what was happening over our heads.

“The Angel’s Tears,” I repeated in a murmur hardly above a whisper. It felt like if I spoke any louder the spell being cast over the world would be broken - positively sacrilegious. “Before she died, my grandmother told me long ago about them. We all know that Overworld is a realm of constant change, but it’s a balanced change. And it’s not just the land but the creatures living in it too. For every life born another life has its ending. Grandmother said that many years ago there was a terrible Winter that took far more life than was created, and in the upset of the balance Overworld was left barren even after Spring arrived. Nothing would grow and nothing would respawn except for undead mobs. Now, there was a servant of Notch  - a guardian among the many thousands tasked with overseeing the endless worlds in the multiverse we live in, and this particular guardian was charged with governing this world - upon seeing Overworld so afflicted by death and decay, they wept in sadness, and their tears fell to Overworld as seeds that would create new life to replace what was lost. Trees, flowers, even baby birds and other animals. And it was then that the guardian promised the surviving people of the world that they (the guardian) would always ensure that the land would flourish again after the Spring thaw, that no matter how hard the snow fell, when it melted again we would never be want for food and sunlight and plentiful green pastures. Now, same time every year, these falling stars signal the end of Winter and the happy arrival of Spring.”

As I finished my little tale I glanced over at Orpheus. I caught him staring back at me. I thought his gaze would’ve been glued to the sky the whole time. Then again, he always was a polite listener during even the most long-winded of my anecdotes. He quickly turned back to the meteor shower and I followed suit, and it was silent again as we drank in the magical sight. 

“... It’s amazing,” I heard Orpheus whisper next to me.

“... Yeah,” was all I could say.

I could feel him shivering uncontrollably and I only smiled and hummed to myself in sympathy; the first time I saw this starfall my body wasn’t sure how to react either. When you’re that moved by something like this, so much raw, unfiltered emotion gets piled on at once that you simply can’t handle or contain it. I remember how much I cried back then. I remember how safe and loved I felt in my father’s lap, with his and my mother’s arms around me. I remember how nothing was said but so much thought was running through my head at the time it was deafening. Papa told me he had felt me quaking so much on top of him that he was worried I was cold, but when he asked me such and I didn’t respond because I didn’t even hear the question, he figured out otherwise. That was what it meant to be starstruck, he said to me.

I don’t know how or when it happened but the next thing I knew my fingers had curled around Orpheus’. He made no attempts to pull away from it, and even squeezed back lightly - a comforting gesture. It became our shared anchor, keeping us from floating off into that beautiful, horizonless frontier. 

“My f-” The words stuck in my throat, so I cleared it awkwardly, louder than I meant to but at least it made us both remember to breathe. “Th-these stars... have a lot of sentimental value to me.”

“How so?”

“My father proposed to my mom under this sky. This exact spot.”

“Really?” Orpheus sat up at that to direct his interest towards me.

“Yeah! Actually this place isn’t all that far from where I was born! That ridge yonder? That’s where my village used to be!”

“’Used’ to be?”

“Landslide,” I admitted with a tinge of disappointment. “Really bad rain came along some years after I left home, knocked out a lot of the trees on the cliffside above the settlement and so all that dirt and rock and stuff came loose with no roots to hold it in place. Thankfully it wasn’t all at once and nobody lost their house or anything, but I learned everybody decided to move elsewhere right after that and avoid the worst.”

“Where did they go?”

“I heard they moved north, closer to the sea.” North was at our backs and I looked over my shoulder at the rest of the mountain we were perched on that was over that way. “But that was a whole lifetime ago, before I respawned. After my respawn I felt it best not to go looking for my people and instead start anew. They wouldn’t recognize me anyway.”

Orpheus could sense the despair creeping into my voice and shifted closer to me. I never even talked with Miraka about the fate of my community. All this time I decided it best to leave it be, let bygones be bygones, and not let the past weigh me down because it’s not like I could go back and change things anyway. However... as much as it hurt, I felt better talking about it. When it came to emotional support it would seem Orpheus was good at providing that just as much as me. He didn’t say anything, only put his two leftmost arms around me in his version of a half hug.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” he murmured.

“I’m not alone.”

“No... you’re not.” I saw him smile a little out of the corner of my eye when I read the truth in those words. I couldn’t help but smile too.

“Thank you for coming here with me to see this.”

“Thank you for inviting me. Although I’m still confused as to why you were so insistent on someone coming with you.”

“First of all, you are not just ‘someone’.” I said this with a firm tone and a matching expression, and I said this directly facing him so that there was no mistaking it nor room for argument otherwise. “You are one of my best, closest friends I’ve ever had if not my absolute best friend period. Secondly, I... I see stuff like this all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I live life to the fullest with every new marvel I come across. I’ve seen things beyond your wildest imaginations, in realms other than this one no less! But for all of that... The most memorable moments, in my opinion, are the ones that are shared with those you care about.”

I looked back at the meteor shower and nestled myself against Orpheus’ fluffy shoulder. “I’m beyond happy right now, because I was able to share this with you. So thank you for coming out here and putting up with me and putting up with all sorts of other crap like getting soaked to the exoskeleton because as long as I live by Notch I will never forget this moment purely because you were right here with me.”

Don’t cry, Nameless. Don’t you dare cry in front of him. He doesn’t deserve that.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget this either,” Orpheus stated simply. “Any of it. Thank you.”

My hands balled into fists in my lap. I was annoyed with myself for not being able to say what I really intended to say to him... No matter. There would be other meteor showers and celestial wonders. I had all the time in the world to tell him... For now, I settled for continuing to watch Winter’s swan song with my spider companion, well through the night until the pale hues of sunrise came.

We would decide later whether we would teleport back home the short way or not. Orpheus actually agreed to doing the trek back on foot. 

Just so long as we would steer clear of any more rain this time.

[tf2headshotcanons]

How would the mercs show their love and affection to their male s/o. Like dates they would take their s/o on, do they like kisses, etc

I want to clear a few things before I answer, if that's alright? Firstly, I personally don't ship any of them as gay (if you look at my sexuality blog, you'll see that only... 2? I ship as straight and the rest bi or pan. Those two are Sniper and Scout), so I apologise. It's because I don't see them as gay is why I'm running my own blog, because everyone else seems to make them gay so a lot of blogs are similar. I wanted to do something different with my different perspective (and no, I ain't asking for credit or praise doing that either!). So strictly gay (but not bi and stuff) asks are probably better left to the other blogs. Mainly because they fucking know their shit. I'm not gay, heck I've never been in a relationship, so actual loving shit is harder for me to do. does that make sense? O.oTo make it clear to that one cunt that sent me hate, || I do NOT hate gays || I just don't see the TF2 blokes as strictly gay (but many with the potential!) That's it! That's literally it!NOW I want to make it clear, If ya love someone. REALLY love someone. It doesn't matter if they have a dick or vagina. So this will sorta answer for both male and female, because if you love someone, their privates don't matter and that shouldn't differ how you love them. But for you, mate (a fellow Sniper fan), I'll try to gay it up for ya ;) Just... Forgive me if I'm not good at it. I'm not gay so I don't know how it differs. To me, love's love ain't it?HEADCANONMANNON TIME:Scout: Aww crap! He... He didn't expect to be... Ya know? He's honestly not comfortable with it, at first. Why? Because he always (forgive my lack of eloquentcy) wanks off to the most sexy and curvy women. But it never felt... Right. He's worried his mother won't accept him (little does he realise his father told her, and they both accept and love him, but it won't stop her teasing him). Scout... Well, Scout does like to see himself as confident and attractive, and to people he hits on - he can be! But when he actually loves someone? Bloody hell, is he kinda shy! Especially now that he's gay! So... He's timid, awkward, and sweaty. He's nervous and makes a lot of error, but ultimately he scores! He tries to be the "man" of the pair - you know, the protective and dominant one? But he's the lass, and we know it ;) Uhhh places, places... You know, fuck it. He's an amusement park kinda guy! Or a sporty guy (obviously) so places that get you out their! Scout... In the amusement park, would be out of his shell and just Scout. But if they did sports together, it'd be like a scene from Ghost, ya know, behind them and teaching them howta swing? That jobbie. Uhh what else do people do romantically? Um movies? Eat- Does he like kisses? Does he fuck! Though kissing Scout is like kissing a damn dog XP Any how, he'd overall be very competitive (but playful!) and try to protect them. He'd try to be the guy his dad wasn't to his mom. Basically, he'd see his partner as the "mom", but really that's him. Soldier: Ehh now, personally, this doesn't need too much of an answer. Because he has Zhanna, we basically know how he'd be in a relationship, and I'd personally see that he'd be the same with a bloke. Protective but knows he can fight, loveable and complimentary. Involving him in dumb shite and neck snaps. That sorta jobbie. And we already know he loves kisses, but the small and quick ones (preferably multiple times!). Honestly, it won't be much different if Zhanna had a dick... Well, she wouldn't have tits but still- My point still stands! He'd take him to the Raccoon Santuary, Training, Ball Games (ref: Demo), Merasmus' home. It's hard to say whether he'd be "alpha" because he'd most likely pick another strong character too. Chances are, they'd both be the "Dad" figure. I'm not sure whether he'd be a movie bloke. He ain't the brains, but he is the heart and spirit!Pyro: We... We don't even know what the fuck Py is. I'm going to use "they" as we don't know what they are, that would be the same for the same sex partner. Off topic, but If Pyro WAS a woman, I think she'd be good for Pauling. But you didn't hear that prediction from me ;) Anyhow, Pyro loves kisses! The same type as soldier, except loves them all day, errryday. If you give them one less kiss from the day before, they may get sad. Pyro loves watching movies, or colouring, or playing with toys, splashing in a pool, burning things or listening to a story. That's what they'd invite their partner to do. Pyro wouldn't be dominant, but they'd be the emotional crutch, they cuddler and emotive one. Basically, the "Mom" archetype. He's mostly passive BUT hurt their love and they WILL torture you! They're bossy and demanding, but full of love. Pyro just loves to be cuddled. Can we just assume for all of this that Pyro's a female and with Pauling?Demo: He's fucking cuddle central, ain't he? He's open to being gay. Suspected it. Doesn't mind it. Though I do think his Mum wouldn't accept - at first. In the end, she'd settle that he's happy and can adopt (And isn't lazy! That's probably her biggest peeve). Demo is the relaxed and chill lover. Doesn't stress, and although a hardworker can slip into bouts of laze. His man would have to be able to party but strict enough to snap him into place. Like Soldier, they may have gone out to the big ball game, or partying or drinking. You know what? Just suggest that it's Soldier he's dating! And yes, he loves kissing, but the sloppy passionate kind. He likes to take a date home to just cuddle and watch that shitty ghost drama. Oh, but his sword may be teasing you both. FYI. Overall, he's very easy going and outgoing. He'll need someone fun to keep up but somewhat strict to stop him relapsing.Heavy: He quietly mulls things over, but it's nothing new nor strange. Like Sniper, he's quiet and reclusive, though he's physically imposing. Though the quiet type, he's very protective and loving. Can even have a laugh. His ideal dates are quiet, reading, moving, or even deep discussions. Anything intimate and meaningful is a worthy date to him. Like Sniper, he probably needs someone a little more forward to approach him, but otherwise is the more protective one. He's very brotherly too and nurturing like a bear. He just loves time with his man, after all time is the most expensive currency. He's more reserved on kissing. You should know he loves you.Engi: He's another that may be mortified of being gay, mainly because the Southern stereotype of it being "unnatural". But he hasn't seen his old man in a VERY long time, so fuck his approval! Engi is another shy boy... At first. His not reserved, but he is nervous at first. He is what's known as a people pleaser and is worried to get it wrong. Where he's an adventurous inventor, he lacks in forward personality. His partner would have to be really smart and ambitious, though not afraid to try new things. He's romantic and kinky like the Medic. A bit freaky too~ So his bloke would have to be ready for anything INCLUDING surprise dominance. As far as dates go, he loves a traditional homemade dinner with a side order of philosophy and smart talk. He's also up for going to a pub but not much of a clubber, unlike Demo. He SEEMS shy at kissing, but he ain't.Sniper: He's honestly mortified at first. His already a pariah to his parents, God what if this disowns him?! God, it keeps him up at night and makes him sick. When the truth does come out, he doesn't make the first contact to his parents. In his mind, he's now an orphan. To his luck, his parents are just delighted that he's found someone to love. That's honestly their biggest wish for him. Like the Scout, he's withdrawn and reclusive. Not necessarily shy though. Just a loner, think the Wolf Children. It takes awhile to get in his heart, but when you do, he's the protective type. Awkward with intimacy and a little oblivious, which probably annoys his bloke but hey it's kinda cute! He's about the little things, holding hands and lying under the stars. He's probably the first to really settle too. He prefers natural dates, like camping or archery. Heck, maybe a bit of reading, knitting and crafting too! Or kayaking. He needs a slightly more dominant man, a friendly and approachable one, one who gives loners like him time and space, and understanding. Somewhere between social and anti. But he's a good lover, just a misplaced one. And traditional, just like his pa. He's more of a hand holder than a kisser, but his kisses mean a lot to his lover.Medic: The actual gay. He's eccentric and creepy, grumpy and funky, boisterous and ambitious. He'd actually be good for someone like Engi or Hoover. Dominant and frisky, yet around others he can be cold and withdrawn. Not in the shy way, but he's not always one to give out love. He loves to experiment and do some freaky things on the first date. Things that border illegal (like smuggling exotic animal pieces). Risk taker. He doesn't like kisses much, but in the mood he will fuck you silly. He seems prissy and cowardly, but he would be the Queen and dominantor of his man.Spy: Like his son, he's taken a back. Mainly because he's used to charming women but surprisingly, he doesn't mind the change. It's actually a turn on. He's a traditional charmer, dinner by candlelight and a movie. Though he's up to some freakier stuff if his lover allows it. He's the mysterious charmer, though he's drawn to sass and mystery himself. And though he can be quite feminine about his clothes, he still makes a good lover for a man. He's just VERY high maintenance. Sometimes, the mysterious men he likes probably can't cope with his high demands, but he calls them standards. He'll need someone who can cope with his high needs and mask. He appears self sufficient, demeaning and cold, but in reality, he loves to feel loved. He gives tough love but means it. And he loves heated passion, making out and hard sex.

[i-lavabean]

Spoilers below the cut

Warning: LONG

I've always loved all of the Star Wars movies, but the Prequel movies were my starting point. I'll be honest I think a lot of people got mad at Rian Johnson for something he didn't necessarily do, and that's wrapped up in how Luke Skywalker was portrayed. The one who really set up the whole "Luke ran away from his family and responsibilities" thing was JJ Abrams (in fact, check the sources but I believe the whole reason Abrams decided Luke was hiding was because he wasn't sure how to make him a supporting Han-type role instead of just writing another movie All About Him). Rian was working with what he'd inherited and even Mark Hamill has stated that even if he didn't agree with all the character story points, he thinks Johnson was the best man for the job.

Okay that bit aside my overall opinions:

Finn and Rose: the Cutest Heroes Ever. Looking forward to my hope that Finn becomes the Rebellion Leader we deserve

Poe: yeah he had me cringing the whole movie, starting with him getting half the fleet killed and reaching a breaking point when he attempts to mansplain the current situation <i>to the admiral who not only has been present for everything, but who has been organizing and leading rebellions with Leia longer than he's been alive!</i>

BB-8: a treasure, 10/10 would protect

Luke: I thought his grumpy-recluse thing was actually perfect development for his character for two reasons. First, the entire "teach me" "no" scene progression with him and Rey is nearly identical to an old samurai story, which hearkens back to the origin of the Star Wars movies. Second, here is a man who for better or worse shaped the events of the Galaxy and feels inherently responsible for it, and now that he feels he has failed the entire Galaxy remains in hiding so he can't hurt it again. He essentially took the place of Yoda in this story and the parallels are pretty good. Famous Jedi master has a student go rogue and kill the rest of the order, goes into hiding on a planet with a suspicious concentration of Dark Side stuff, initially refuses to train a promising pupil and has to be pushed into action by a Force ghost. As to the brush with the dark side thing, I thought it was very interesting to show his reaction to an intrusive thought and the consequences of it.

Rey and Kylo: first, I would never have thought about the telepathic angle before, but I actually really liked that they spent all that time building off of the empathetic nature of Rey who doesn't want anyone to be alone or without hope, and Kylo's deeply divided and struggling nature. It made his final decision that much more meaningful, and gave the audience more notice that their future battles will have an edge of bitterness to them like previous famous showdowns in the series.

Snoke: I, like others I am sure, was kinda disappointed that Snoke was done so fast but I also appreciate that the one thing that finally made Kylo choose a side was that. In a way Snoke was always a red herring.

Overall impression: definitely a Star Wars movie! Think I need to watch it again to understand everything though

An experiment

If you’re part of the Star Wars fandom, and you’ve watched TLJ, reblog with your opinion of the movie, and what part of the fandom you’re primarily involved with (eg original/ prequel/ sequel trilogy, TCW, SWR, etc).

[seriouslyobsessed]

Fanfiction Recommendations

Bellarke

•Teacher's Pet By bookwormforalways

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870675#main

Professor Bellamy Blake is new at the University of Arkadia, and he prefers to keep his personal life private - until one day his personal life interrupts his class.

A few secrets, a little nepotism, and some overly curious students - what could go wrong?

•Playlist Name (Just Love Me Already) By MissMR

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22805260?view_adult=true#main

“What Avril Lavigne and the Pussycat Dolls didn’t make the cut this time around?”

Clarke scoffs. “That’s way too juvenile.”

“And the whole playlist itself isn’t?” Octavia smirks, and Clarke can’t hold back her smile.

Octavia hands her back the phone with a sigh. “You have it bad, don’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” Clarke says as she slumps against her dresser. “I swear I had no idea I felt like this.”

“You know,” Octavia starts and takes a spot next to Clarke, “you could say something to him.”

(Or, Clarke has such intense feelings that she doesn't know how to deal with them so she makes a playlist, but all her friends know exactly what her playlist means.)

•homestretch of the hard times By safeandsound13

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031391#main

“Me and you,” she echoes, holding his gaze, like somehow those two little words mean more than anything else they’ve said all night.

He feels it too, in the way his pulse speeds up, and his throat starts to tighten, and his chest constricts painfully. At the forefront of it all, his admiration for her. Not just as his long lost co-leader, or the girl who saved them all. As a person. “You did a really great job, you know. Raising Madi.”

“You could tell that from all of the two minutes you’ve spent with her?”

“I don’t need to spend time with her to know that.” He licks his lips, hesisting, knowing the next thing he’ll say will start off the next conversation they need to have, “I know you.”

Her easier attitude from moments ago immediately deflates, and there’s a light tremble in her bottom lip, but to her credit, this time she doesn’t avert her eyes away from his. “It’s been a long time, Bellamy.”

After defeating Eligius and securing the Valley, Clarke and Bellamy stumble upon an age-old IKEA that decides to cave in on them. While they're locked in with a sea of Dagstorps and Fyrkantigs, they re-hash exactly where it went wrong.

•My Little Eye By AnneKatherine

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22102357/chapters/52749718#main

Clarke doesn't mind living a secret life. Not really anyways. Yes, she has to lie to her roommate, and her boyfriend, and her partner. But it's worth it. So worth it. She gets to have the coolest job in the world, of course it's worth it. Right?

Octavia certainly doesn't think so. She's never been one to keep secrets, and being hired by a private organization of spies didn't change that. She butts heads with her reclusive partner regularly, when all she's trying to do is set her up with her brother (who would be perfect for her.)

When a crime boss manages to kidnap the person closest to both of them, they'll need to find a balance of trust and safety if everyone's going to make it out alive.

•I First Tasted The Universe On A Night Like This By theinvisibledisaster

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22949902#main

Monty sighed. “Clarke, I know I wasn’t there to teach you to walk but you cannot have missed the part of life where you learn not to bottle up your feelings. And if you have, I’m here to unbottle them right now.”

“Right now might not be such a good idea,” Clarke lifted a branch so they could duck under it. “Seeing as we’re on a mission to save my daughter, in Neverland, with my not-dead ex, a pirate, a once-evil warlock, my parents who are the same age as me, and Rumplestiltskin.”

Or, the Bellarke Captain Swan AU that got way out of hand.

•Four Times They Needed Saving + One Time They Didn't By RajKumariDulhan

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22880695#main

Four times Bellamy and Clarke saved one another, and one time no one needed saving at all. Hogwarts AU because there can never be enough of them.

•No one I'd rather be a guinea pig with By Everydaynerd

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870570#main

For a moment, Clarke thinks she imagined it—there’s no way they actually included that in the morning announcements, right?

Only to see Jasper’s screeching that, "OUR COVER IS BLOWN I HAVE ALL OUR NEW IDENTITIES PLANNED LET’S MOVE PEOPLE!!!

or

Clarke's a mermaid, Bellamy's a werewolf, and they both panic when a faculty member takes special interest in the full moon. chaos ensues.

ridiculous, fluffy AU in which both think the other is human + are trying to find out who's figured out their secret

•Life Is Like That By theinvisibledisaster

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807984#main

Sleeping on the floor of a back country Walmart wasn’t exactly where Clarke had planned for her life to end up. Then, to be fair, neither was getting pregnant with Finn’s baby and then having Finn ditch her at a back country Walmart with no money, no ride and no shoes. Life was like that sometimes.

Clarke ends up pregnant and alone in a small town in the middle of nowhere, where everybody knows each other, and the grumpy librarian is much hotter than he has any right to be.

The Where The Heart Is AU that I assumed nobody would ask for, until one person did.

•kiss me (it's nice to be alive) By theinvisibledisaster

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19387387/chapters/46132678

All the Bellarke/The 100 mini-fics from my tumblr celebration!

1. Bellarke Pride and Prejudice

2. Bellarke Easy A

3. The 100 but it's The Good Place

4. Delinquents as The Breakfast Club because why the hell not

5. Bellarke in the MCU

6. Bellarke as Bones & Booth

7. If The 100 had a Queen Of The South vibe

8. Marper as Snowing

9. Bellarke timey wimey AU

10. Royalty Arranged Marriage AU

•together we can live (whenever you're ready) By traitorwhoyoulove

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23562640?view_adult=true#main

“Want some help?” she blurted out before realising what exactly her words entailed, so she just played it off as cooly as possible. In reality, she was burning up inside, suddenly grateful that her blood type stopped her from blushing.

Bellamy paused for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as if to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue. “Would you mind?”

-- Clarke helps Bellamy shave, and it brings back a lot of feelings.