#DARN FEDS

[anartisticdreamer0]

STOP REFERRING TO PHILZA AS “the wise crow” YOU FREAKS

[peachyteabuck]

got put on adderall instead of ritalin (rip mcr reference) and holy fuck. i realize now why so many people are on adderall. this shit is great.

[glasseswearingrabbitdetective]

I’m still sick… meant to be going out tomorrow… crying…

Time to bring out the big guns… will this make me any better? Absolutely not. Is it hella tasty? HECK YEAH!

Mi Goreng time ✨✨

[howtotrainyouragents]

I knew watching the B99 finale at 1:30 in the morning was a bad idea

[koishua]

deep breaths vie

[glassrowboat]

Morning After

Authors note: This includes a variety of my own headcanons on these characters. The reader is gender neutral. This includes only the male harbingers, but I am willing to write one for the chicks too ^^

Capitano.

-The instant you stirred in your sleep, just the slightest twitch, and you were pinned to the mattress with a looming figure above you. His black hair tickled your skin, swaying back and forth from the sudden movement, but that was barely a concern when this man who had been so sweet with you last night was suddenly acting like a switch that flipped off in his brain. All you could tell was one discernable thing after the sudden surprise: there was no escape if he didn't want there to be.

-”Capitano?” You called out, voice hesitant and barely a whisper as fear choked back the ability to speak confidently.

-Immediately the tense nature that had over taken his form fell, shoulders no longer strung together as that soldier who had been pinning you down held you close and started apologizing for startling you.

-He didn't have to say it, he didn't want to, bit for a moment there the Captain had mistaken you for someone that crept into his chambers with ill intent. He's a soldier. War is what he's known for. This caution just comes with the territory.

-To make up for his own actions he makes sure you're well fed, given a hearty breakfast (one a little too big for you to fully eat but he doesn't mind giving you some Tupperware to take it home in) and tea.

-It's just he's a terrible conversationalist, barely talking as he just nods along to whatever you say, making you carry the flow the entire morning as he adds in an occasion “yes, interesting, or no.”

-At least he's handsome under that helmet.

Childe.

-Fell off the bed the moment he saw you, a shout falling from his lips from the surprise of the fall and well, this naked person in his bed.

-Why he didn't expect you to wake up and throw a pillow at his head for being so darn loud when you have a hangover? Well, only Celestia knows. Though he didn't bother to block it, simply accepted getting hit as it didn't even knock him back.. well that is if he didn't play along and dramatically fell down onto the floor.

-”Are you always such a drama queen?”

-”A guy can't play along with a joke?”

-Very sweet, but a little bit annoying as he asks about you in as many questions he can think of. What's your favorite color? What's your job?

-Admittedly Childe has never had a one night stand before so he doesn't know what to do in this position so when you give him a sweet smile and tell him to just to let you get dressed for now he goes to get a stray shirt for you.

-Definitely wants to see you again, and not just in the bedroom.

-”So where do you come from?”

-”Give me five minutes for fucks sake.”

Dottore.

-First off, what? He's aware each harbinger has their own little dedicated fan club, even him…for some reason. Yet for him to willingly bring someone, possibly one of them, to his bed? People aren't allowed in his personal quarters. Hell, he barely uses it himself, opting to sleep on that one couch in the laboratory. So why the switch in his normal behavioral patterns?

-(I personally see Dottore as a virgin so for this dweeb to lose it this way-)

-Admittedly, he's on edge from trying to remember what happened, the haze of sleep, and the shock of seeing someone he apparently trusted enough to bring to bed. It only made sense he was scowling at this sleeping body. It wouldn't be easy enough to just call it a new test subject, use the sheets as restraints to drag this stranger down to his lab and shove them in a cell but..

-Maybe not this time.

-Instead he gets up and throws on some clothes as quickly as possible, making sure to slot his mask in place despite the fact you have very obviously already seen what lies underneath. That and more.

-It has proven more useful than not to use that thing to hide his expressions.

- Depending on if he drank last night and that's what had him indulging in the warmth of another person's body, Dottore would have one of his clones stand by until you wake up. They can deal with the situation from there and take you home while he gets some caffeine in his body. An easy way to rid of a hangover and forget his newfound company.

-If it was a completely sober decision, Dottore no longer has the excuse that he simply got ahead of himself from the drink and would therefore be hostile in response. Unable to put up with this one bit, he would be telling his bed partner to get dressed and head home already so he can get back to work instead of watching over pointless little you.

-Don't try and say anything about possibly being emotionally attached, it would only anger him. Boy is not used to being open or vulnerable with anyone and you suddenly appearing and having held him so close last night would only set him off in the worst of ways.

Pantalone.

-First thing this man notices is he's just not as comfy as usual, somehow this mattress isn't right, he isn't sinking into the soft plush he spent thousands on. Not even his haze of grogginess was enough to make tossing and turning twist his body into comfort. (Goldilocks having motherfucker). So with a steady hand he reaches out to find his glasses on the nightstand, silver chains rattling on the surface as he pulls them close.

-A one night stand isn't an uncommon thing to the regrator, for him it's happened a small handful of times before but it's never something he's typically the better for in the morning. A man of his position caught slinking into a woman's bedroom as they drunkenly grope at eachother was far from a good look. Not to mention you never knew if the individual would keep their mouth shut.

-That has been a problem with one particular individual in the past that has henceforth been ‘dealt with.’

-But the person laying besides him was still conked out and wrapped in a good majority of the blankets the bedding had to offer. Well, a bit of a thief aren't they? Pantalone almost wanted to laugh but kept his mouth sealed shut, already knowing it's best not to wake you.

-Slowly he got up and out of the bed, trying to keep it from creaking too loudy, to put on last night's clothes. He'll take a shower and get changed into something clean later.

-With one last peak towards the stranger he spent the night with Pantalone slipped out of the front door.

Pierro.

-He's confused.

-Now he understands what happened, the sight of you naked and curled up into him is more than enough to make that clear; though your underwear basically on his favorite pillow definitely would have gotten the point across either way. But, like, him? You who look so much younger, livelier compared to what Pierro sees in the mirror every day after five hundred years haunting him.

-Maybe that joke the second made about people liking ‘older folks’ was based on reality.

-Would greedily allow himself to hold you in his arms for a time. It started with him first saying one minute, that's all he'd allow himself. Then that turned into five, then ten, then twenty. Eventually he would barely wish to nudge you awake even though he knows better.

-Don't go getting attached when there's so much left to do.

-When he finally did wake you up he did his best to make sure you wouldn't get startled, softly calling out the name he was given last night. It's just a shame you do, startling as your hand nearly wacked his face from sheer shock. (Though who can blame you? It's not everyday you blearliy open your eyes, vision still blurry as you take in a man with white hair and stars in his- wait is that the fucking Pierro? Oh fuck).

-The type to help you find your clothes and call for a cab so he knows you get home safely.

-Now all that's left is trying to figure out how to hide the hickey you planted on him.

Scaramouche.

-Let's be real here, you're not making it to the morning.

-He had no clue why he was allowing this, allowing a humans lips to fall to his own with such fevered need. In any other situation he'd be pushing them off, telling this person they're a useless worm that shouldn't ever have walked these lands if all they was going to do was use their life to paw at him. Oh but to worshipped was a delight.

-Kisses pressed to the wooden skin of his puppet body like small prayers to the God he will one day be. This is what humans are made for, aren't they? To give their all to a greater being. So readily Scaramouche let himself be tugged along as you pulled him to wherever you pleased, ready to lavish in the attention he so rarely got.

-A human isn't a threat after all.

-Yet when you tugged on his short, pulling them down just low enough for your mouth to eagerly await something filling it, everything took a turn for the worst.

-”Wait a minute, you don't have genitals?”

-And in a heartbeat you were struck with a bolt of lightning that had you dead on the spot.

[bones4thecats]

Hello, I would like to make a request for the scarabia duo with a reader Jasmine please (they are lovers)

Their S/O Being Twisted From Jasmine

Characters: Kalim Al-Asim and Jamil Viper Requester: @marinahavik A/N: Alright. I have like no words except enjoy this soooo, enjoy I guess? Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Book 4 and mentions of hypnotism

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»»——————————-　 Kalim Al-Asim 　 ——————————-««

☀️ You two first met because of your positions in society. Kalim was the first-born to a wealthy merchant family, while you were born into a very esteemed entertainment-centered family. Basically you guys worked in the entertainment industry

☀️ Ever since you were born, being around hoity-toity rich people was what you were used to. That was, until you had met the Al-Asim family, who were by far one of the sweetest and most normal rich-folk you'd ever seen

☀️ Especially when it came to their oldest child, Kalim

☀️ Kalim was ecstatic when he first met you, he practically dragged you around his home while throwing toys back and forth with his multiple younger siblings

☀️ One thing you two bonded over was the fact that he had such a larger family at the time, with even more on the way, as shown by his mother's pregnant belly, while you were left as an only child in your home

☀️ As you two grew together, he remained in contact ever since he was enrolled to transfer to Night Raven College from your once shared college of Royal Sword Academy. He would call you weekly to invite you to last-minute parties

☀️ You swore you could hear Jamil just groaning in the background as he cooked

☀️ Speaking of Jamil, you guys are on okay-ish terms. Growing up with Kalim meant you also grew up with Jamil, since his family serves the Al-Asims. And because you are excellent at seeing through others, you could tell as the years passed that he was getting more and more fed-up with his role in life, not that you could blame him. You hated yours just as much

☀️ Anyways. Kalim and you are definitely confused to be just friends at first by many, since you hold him back from doing stupid things like Jamil, but, when they notice just how doting the white-haired boy is for you, they can tell you guys are far beyond friends

☀️ His family absolutely adore you and your amazingly independent and courageous nature. Whenever someone tries to threaten any one of them, normally they would just flee back to try and calm their antagonist down with words, but you just get up in their face and get them to realize their mistakes

What do you think of Jasmine! Reader, Kalim?

" What is there not to like? They're so awesome! Their free-spirited personality is so much fun to mess with, especially when they blush! I remember the first time they did that! Oh, they were so gosh-darn pink, it was insane! I thought they would stay the same shade forever! Boy was I wrong! "

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»»———————————-　 Jamil Viper 　———————————-««

🐍 Oh boy is this guy tripping over his own feet!

🐍 When you guys had first met one-another, it was... interesting to say the least...

🐍 You were a very long-distant relative of Kalim's, but, because the young man's family is already so large, distant relatives are treated just like immediate family. And you were just like a sibling to him!

🐍 Jamil was very iffy around you at first, since most of his encounters with outside families was bad. They would almost always look at him or his parents and just snobbishly downcast themselves onto them. He almost attacked one because they called his mother and at the time toddler-aged sister two of the 'ugliest things in existence'

🐍 One day you just walked through the Al-Asim estate until you came across one of your father's co-workers belittling the young boy, and in a fit of anger at the audacity of him, you stomped up and yelled at him to apologize for treating him to horribly

🐍 That was the first thing that made you catch the servant's eye; your bravery and hatred of injustice. You would never stand on the sidelines and watch someone get mistreated because of their background. No, you stepped up when nobody else would and defend them with your honor

🐍 And while you served as the housewarden of your dorm in Royal Sword Academy, you would keep in close contact with not only your distant cousin Kalim, but his best friend Jamil

🐍 When you visited and saw Jamil overblot, you were scared for not only the other's life, but his. If someone found out he had done this, who knows what would happen? What if he was taken by S.T.Y.X.?

🐍 Jamil had eventually snapped out of his fit of anger for a moment when you stared into his horrifyingly-cold eyes and cried... he... he made you cry those tears...?

🐍 He came back to his senses and you were the one to drag him to the nurse's ward for a checkup. Who knows what could've happened to his body, nonetheless his mind while under the control of such evil magic! And as his S/O, it was your duty to help him

🐍 With your spirit of kindness to those you cared for and his, albeit hidden most of the time, stubbornness, his true self shown through the walls that he always kept up around others. You were his one and only diamond in the rough, and he was never going to let you fall through his fingers

What do you think of Jasmine! Reader, Jamil?

" Well, ha, where do I begin? Their just... perfect. The way they smile, or yell at someone for being rude to others, or even when they just take care of Kalim and allow me to get some things done in the meantime. Everything they say or do to me is just the most spectacular sight that anybody could experience. And I'm lucky to be the one they have chosen. "

[chocsra]

"Lovesick (Interlude)"

Chuuya x fem! reader - highschool AU

A/N: hii how are yall doing, its the weekend and yk what that means 🙏 thank you to all to those who have send me requests! i have read them all and plan to write all of them 😻🫶

thank you sm @sstarshroom for the request again 🫶😭

content: detention w your friend and school gangster chuuya nakahara, oneshot, pre-relationship (almost), romance, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love, i was thinking of kunikida when writing the teacher but then i realised he and chuuya would be the same age 😨

"This behaviour is unacceptable, Nakahara, I'll be calling your brother. Sit down."

A deep hoarse voice pierces through the late silence of the empty classroom, your teacher clicks his tongue in annoyance as he urges your classmate, Chuuya, to take a seat. The teenage boy, in his school uniform, shrugs and strides his way to the empty desk next to yours. "Ah," your teacher scoffs, stopping dead in his tracks. "Sit somewhere else, you need to learn your darn lesson." the man points an angry finger at the ginger, you look over to him, suppressing bits of laughter as Chuuya glares at the floor in irritation before taking a seat a few desks away from you.

He had short orange hair and piercing blue eyes, not the kind of blue that was like that of an ocean or jewel, but a dark, whirling storm. Chuuya Nakahara was a classmate of yours who was relatively short, athletic, independent and smart; but he had a pretty big issue within school, violence. Fights on fights on fights, the kid really couldn't catch a break from beating up people, could he? From what you've accumulated, he loved taekwondo as a kid until now before forming a loving bond with soccer; Chuuya loved fashion and forming good impressions, so it wasn't much to your surprise for him to show up to school on a motorcycle to achieve some 'gangster' look.

He loved stray dogs and begrudgingly fed stray cats, the loudness of the teenage boy was normal; but it brought some sort of fondness towards you, especially as friends. Yeah, you enjoyed having a nice friendship with the scruffy Chuuya Nakahara, the human embodiment of a chihuahua or grumpy cat. Sometimes, he forced you to go on morning runs with him, or rant about the future wine he was to buy and collect - 'bullshit', you thought, who would spend 30 grand on alcohol?

The redhead had a few friends in school - you, Albatross, the honour roll and senior student Kouyou Ozaki, his friend group who called themselves 'Sheep', based on a movie or something. Oh, and Dazai, well, you weren't sure if they were really friends or not - but by the looks of it, they seem to be the closest out of everyone else.

"No talking."

Your teacher orders, clicking the door open ready to leave; he sends an exaggerated glare at the both of you in the dim classroom that makes you suppress a cackle. Then, he finally left - his leather shoes clicking against the school floors. A heavy silence entered the empty classroom, hearing your teacher's ghostly footsteps until they disappeared. Chuuya then scoots his chair far closer to you, an irritated but victorious smile accompanied by the pleasant features of his face.

"Now how'd you end up in detention?" He questions with a proud smirk, patting your shoulder affectionately. "Slept in class," you chuckle, sighing, then resting your head atop the wooden desk; the ginger laughs in amusement, his angry mood quickly dissipated at the simple conversation with you. "what did you do this time?" you question, quirking a brow as the redhead scoffs, "The usual, beat the shit 'outta Osamu." he clicks his tongue. "Again? Over what?" you snicker casually, it wasn't very good to be friends with a school delinquent - but you knew he wasn't that bad, considering he was in tears watching 'A Dog's Way Home'.

"Poetry," Chuuya mutters, looking away shamefully, making you smile cheekily and laugh at the stupid reason. "Poetry?!" you smack his back playfully, making the boy wince in pain at the aggressive happiness. "He fuckin' said my love poems were shitty, that's not true!" You laugh at him for a split second, before cocking another brow. "You write love poems?" the ginger goes beet red at your realisation, before turning away and blushing, "It's just- whatever," Chuuya quips, you chuckle in pure amusement. "I never thought you would ever write a poem, a love poem especially." The boy scoffs, "The more you know, I guess."

"So then, who's it to?" You ask with curiosity filling your eyes, elbows planted clean on the desk. Chuuya shakes his head in denial, pursing his lips, not wanting to speak up. "That doesn't matter." he quips, biting his inner cheek in a flustered crisis; you only smile cheekily at his reactions, leaning in closer to his face, "Osamu?" the ginger flinches and almost flies off his seat at the name, scoffing absolutely baffled. "No!! What the hell?" you laugh, hitting the desk at the moment, watching as a small smile creeps on the redhead's face, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "Did I not just say I beat the shit outta him?"

You both scoff and turn your heads away, "Well - you never told me you liked somebody." the redhead purses his lips in annoyance, "'Cause ya didn't need to know." you quirk a brow at the heavy tension in the room, both of you getting quiet. "So then who is it?" you ask again, tracing shapes on the wooden desk in front of you. "I can't tell you," the redhead states, fiddling with his fingers; you part your lips in a teasing manner, "Just tell me and-"

"and ruin our friendship?"

you widen your eyes at Chuuya's words, the ginger looks painfully ashamed at his slip-up, swiping his tongue against his inner cheek with the scrunch of his face. "What?" you blink, staring at him under the dimly lit lighting. "What?" he repeats, completely stunned at his own words.

A heavy silence filled the room, the boy pensively squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. "Does that mean what I think it does?" You choke out, a pink blush prominent on your cheeks; the redhead runs a hand through his hair in mild frustration. "Sorry," Chuuya shies away, turning his head to face away from your pretty gaze.

In all those months of torturous school, you've met a nice boy by the name of Chuuya Nakahara. He loved soccer, taekwondo, motorcycles, and music, and had many friends that he held near and dear to his heart. To you, he was a short, competitive, school troublemaker that roamed those crowded hallways arguing with Osamu with boring eyes. But to him, you were a girl who kept him awake on those terrible, sleepless nights, he thought of your name when he was first introduced into poetry, and he gets reminded of your bright smile as he thinks of the word 'sonnets'. To the boy, sometimes he felt out of touch with reality; because he hated the thought of falling in love, he despised the slow melody in romance songs, but meeting you only made his life slow down, just like the poetic rhythm of a cheesy song.

No, Chuuya was an idiot in denial; everybody could tell - especially when he got hit in the face with a soccer ball as you captured his gaze, his vision blurred to only your perfection and your perfection only. Chuuya Nakahara, the boy who was your friend for God knows how long; is terribly lovesick because of you.

"You shouldn't be," you mutter, brushing your fingertips over his soft hands; the ginger only widens his eyes at your words and lingering touch, the sparkle in his eyes signalling his greatest happiness. "I like you too," you whisper, locking eyes with the floor as the heat in your cheeks never seems to dissipate. Chuuya's fingers shook slightly in shock, his lips parting ever so slightly; he stared at your beautiful features in that damn classroom, the soreness of his knuckles fading as your words were the best yearning kisses to it he could ever ask for.

"..Can I kiss you?"

He stammers, watching as your lips curve into a smile he adored so much. "You're such an idiot." you laugh, fingers grazing to cup his soft cheeks ever so softly, pulling his lips into a sweet kiss. Chuuya's heart thumped loudly in his chest, his shaky hands flying to your waist and hand to cradle them with the affection that danced with the praise he sang in all those poems. The redhead's hitched breath tickled your lips as you slowly interlock, eyelids and pretty eyelashes fluttering shut at the tummy twisting feelings; you both had fuzzy minds, losing the ability to even think straight.

And as you felt his endearing lips reanimate any bore or sadness in that tedious classroom, you found the dim lighting to be the most tacky source of illumination; because Chuuya was - a graceful presence that made any fairytale or novel vanish in envy.

"You two!! I leave you right under my nose and this is what happens?!"

Your teacher storms in, completely enraged with a hint of amusement as you both scream in terror.

Yeah, you were both fucked, but at least you got a great, loving boyfriend out of it? 

[meanbossart]

I've been loving the DU Drow as a companio asks, so I've got my own. I was wondering what kind of interactions he would have with the other companions.

More specifically, we know Astarion flirts with almost anyone (for his own reasons) and even sleeps with Bae'zel at the tiefling party if you turn him down as a player. So, since the Drow is in the group now, what would his interaction with Astarion be? Would Astarion assume him to be the strongest and best chance of survival if manipulated? Would Astarion try to sleep with the Drow the same way he would with Lae'zel?

(Regarding the companions in general) Oh I can easily see him and Shadowheart having some cute party banter, they'd poke light fun at each other and have a similarly "darkly dramatic" reaction to things. He'd easily be the most talkative with her, often initiating mundane conversations about stuff you find. I can see some dialogue between them triggering upon finding one of the many drink-stashes you come across where they discuss what they like best when it comes to wine - or what they think they like, at least, considering the state of their memories.

Gale would be eager to inquire him about drow and the underdark, and where he got his fighting prowess from, which would visibly annoy DU drow since he can't fucking remember anything LOL he'd comment about how he always thought male drow were supposed to be a little… Flimsier, prompting a response along the lines of "I suppose my mother must have fed me well. I do have quite the appetite for loud-mouths."

Gale's like :U my goodness. Point taken.

He might talk to Karlach about Avernus, being fond of the savage nature of it. He'd also ask her if "something's bothering her" and when she asks why he's asking, he comments on how she can never seem to be still for long LOL

If Jaheira joins the party later she takes an interest in him (I WONDER WHY) and they could also share a little friendly banter. DU drow ends up asking her things about Baldur's Gate and herself to fill the gaps in his memory, as well as her children. He expresses how, if he thought himself more fit for a father, he'd have some of his own. Jaheira tells him it's probably better this way.

The banter with Astarion would be pretty par for the course - a mix between being flirtatious in nature and a little passive-aggressive all at once. At some point he says he can't keep quiet about how he stinks of carrion - DU calmly tells him that it can't be helped, due to their circunstances, and that he has a pretty cadaveric perfume himself. Astarion gets offended and tells him he knows for a fact that he smells lovely - DU drow tells him those statements need not be mutually exclusive.

He'd also ask Wyll about Mizora and what it's like to be in her servitute, claiming that he "wouldn't mind doing her a few favors himself" and Wyll tries his darn best to brush that off.

Lae'zel picks on him about his, erm, unreliable state of mind and accuses DU drow of basically being a ticking-time-bomb. DU responds that he feels less like a bomb and more like a vent releasing a steady flow of noxious fumes - if that helps her sleep better at night.

He also snorts at Minthara's "jokes".

(Onto the second part of this already far-too-long reply:)

And I THINK SO, I think Astarion would take him for being more easily manipulated than Lae'zel and try his luck there instead.

Small detour: you know, I always thought it'd be neat if some of the companions formed relationships with each other if you didn't pursue them. We see friendships form but romances would be fun too - like Karlach and Shadowheart could get together if you didn't pair with either of them, and Ascended Astarion and Minthara if you happened to have that party configuration in act 3. I don't really see many of the others having that kind of chemistry, but I wouldn't want the whole camp to be in love with each other anyway lol just 1 or 2 other couples would make the party feel more autonomous.

So, in a world where that's a part of the game, I obviously would say they get together if you don't romance either (from a mechanic standpoint player still gets first dibs LOL) and that unlocks unique party banter and dialogue where you can ask them about it once per act and reveal the "status" of the relationship. In act 2 you get to comment about how they seem to "steal away" together often. Astarion implies they're obviously having sex, and that he's always wanted to "try a little drow - but a big one is even better". If you ask DU drow about it he keeps details and motivations to himself, but acknowledges that they have something going on. You can then tell him that you believe he's being used, and DU drow very nonchalantly says that "he's well aware", but that he isn't worried about it.

In Act 3, when you ask again, Astarion somewhat bashfully reveals that the drow grew on him, and if you press on about the topic he reveals that they haven't even had sex since act 1, they just do a lot of talking, as he sheepishly puts it. If you ask DU drow about it he's much more upfront in saying that they've become an item, and that he's very happy in Astarion's company.

[sunsoaked-living-blog]

I’ve seen a lot of people talking about the contrast of parenting styles of Poseidon saving Percy in episode 4 vs Athena punishing and abandoning Annabeth

But what about the contrast of Poseidon saving Percy vs Zeus pity turning Thalia into a tree after she’s basically at death’s door. Poseidon actively used his power to intervene and save Percy by snatching him out of the air and immersing him in water to heal, while also revealing to him that he has even more powers than he knew before. And this is still in week ONE of Percy’s life as a demigod.

Meanwhile, Thalia knew she what she was, for what I suspect was a while. She didn’t seem to ever have help from her father, and was left to the figurative wolves up until basically the end. And when it looked like moments before the fates were going to cut her string, Zeus (instead of idk striking down the last of the monsters threatening his daughter or ordering one of the other gods to help heal her because he’s their king) turns her into a tree.

Zeus throws his pity on Thalia as almost an afterthought, when almost doesn’t even matter anymore. Meanwhile Poseidon was basically fed up and said imma help my kid because even though I haven’t been allowed to be anywhere near him, let alone acknowledge him, I still love him and don’t want him to die.

…although Athena can go rot bc Annabeth is the best child you’ve had in a good darn while… and you were gonna have her ripped to shreds bc she was in the project group??? Do not pass Go and do not collect $200. Straight to jail with you.

[heartfullofleeches]

Melan's imaginary friend should be like a 1950's housewife with a red clown nose and white ruffle clown gloves.

Motherly, yes. Murderous? Also yes. Very 'beat the rival with a lamb leg, and feed it to the cops for dinner when they come-a-knockin' ,

:0 Holy shit, Chief your brain is so big and wrinkly. 50's clown wifey. Melan's name comes from the word Melancholy so maybe we can name her Hollie?

-

"Oh! Melan, dearie, you didn't tell me we'd be having another guests so soon! Is this the one who've been telling me out?"

Plush fingers grip at the fat of your cheeks, pinching them ever so gingerly as the clown woman squeals at the softness and elasticity of your skin.

"You're just adorable! You must be something special to be able to see me. I can see why my Melan is absolutely crazy about you. Oh, I could just eat you up, but I'd much rather fix you something to eat instead. Is that alright with you, sweetheart?"

You smile through the dull ache in your cheeks. "I could eat."

"Wonderful!" The clown removes her hands from your face, clasping them together as she spins on her heels towards the direction of the kitchen. She bids you a temporary goodbye with a wave over her shoulder as she walks off. Stepping into the kitchen, the woman scours her surroundings for all the necessary tools to make you a welcoming meal. Pancakes were her Melan's favorite morning dish - no better way to welcome you to the family than sharing something dear to heart. She gathers a bowl, measure cup, whisk - but oh, where is that darn skillet of hers? Tapping her foot against the floor in thought, the bottom of her shoe begins to sticks to the tile from the running pool flowing beneath it.

"Oh! There is it! Thank you so much for holding onto this for me, sweetheart."

The woman picks her skillet off the chest of the body sprawled out across the floor - pressing a finger to her lips as a pained moan bleeds from crushed jaws.

"Hush, hush. I don't mean to sound rude, but we have someone a bit more important than you with us right now. Keep quiet now~ And I'll do my best to patch you up once they're fed."

-

She's existed for five seconds and I'm already in love with clown housewifey

[rae2velaris]

After watching one of Abagayils most recent tiktoks earlier, I'm inspired to be blunt...

Take the darn delicious cake that's in front of you...

THE FORBIDDEN LOVE TROPE

THE GRUMPY AND SUNSHINE TROPE

THE LOVE TRUMPS A MATING BOND

THE CHOSEN TROPE

THE SLOW BURN TROPE

THE WAITING A LIFE TIME FOR YOU TROPE

...and EAT. IT.

You are being FED.

Stop acting like Elriel is a bland celery stick of a story. You know what's bland? Another mated bond story... We've had enough of that same pie OR a (no offense to her because I like her...) side character fandom created tofu ship monstrosity.

I'm eating that darn cake SJM baked, and I'm going to love EVERY. LAST. CRUMB.

EAT. IT. or enjoy your bland fanon tofu pie.

You can still be jealous that your ship isn't remotely as creative and filling as Elriel... but regardless, at some point...

YOU. WILL. EAT. THE. CAKE.

[forbebeandjam]

Lovely~~ Can you please write a smutty fic with Bada, Kirsten, and switch!bottom reader, pleeeeaaassee.. Maybe like Bada and sweet, baby girl idol reader are together and are looking to try something new in the bedroom.. So they both seduce Kirsten and lure her into their bedroom and absolutely ruin her before Bada ruins reader.. 🤤 I need it.. I crave it so badly.

Lure | Bada x Fem Reader x Kirsten | 21+

Summary: you and your girlfriend have the hots for the international dancer Kirsten.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: extreme smut!! Face riding, fingering, eating out, seduction.

READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED (MDNI)

A/N: this is my first time writing with three people but I think I did a pretty darn good job doing so and I hope you think so too. I hope I fed your cravings!! ;) ENJOY!!!

When you decided to audition for a Kpop idol, you never imagined your make it. The new lifestyle, friends, and just everything was new to you but it was all bearable because of your best friend Bada.

Bada knew her way around the industry since she was a Kpop choreographer with a lot of idol friends so she would give you tips on how to make friends and where to go so people wouldn't recognize you but... why did you always end up in her apartment?

It was no secret in your friend group that Bada's house was always a hot spot for idols to get together. It was in a private area of town so paparazzi and sassengs would have zero access to the premises.

Thanks to your talent and your dedication, your debut came sooner than you thought and Bada ended up being one of your choreographers.

Destiny worked its way for the two of you and you would end up together most of the time when your manager put you in private lessons with her. You tried your hardest in each class since you were the oldest one and the leader of your group so you wanted to lead by example but...

Your emotions had been growing for your tall choreographer. You couldn't deny any longer that you would do whatever you could to end your cuddled up in her bed every night. Bada was not opposed to the idea of having you there with her either.

She was in love with you after all but she didn't want to say anything knowing that she could mess with your delicate idol image. So she just let you do whatever you wanted. She would pray that you would choose to stay at her house.

One day you finally build up the guts to ask her out, and she agreed. You two began dating and soon enough turned into girlfriends. Things were wonderful in your relationship and you didn't have to be careful because everyone thought Bada was dating someone and you two were just close friends.

So with this, you and Bada began to spice up your intimacy more every day. She would try and find confined spaces where she could kiss you and touch you while always respecting your boundaries.

You were more than open to letting her do whatever she wanted with you but she was so gentle that she wanted to make you feel special every time she touched you. The way her fingers would caress your skin was soft and pure but you knew how bad she had been holding back. Either way, it would always be you and her.

That's when things changed. Things started getting more difficult when she started filming Street Woman Fighter. You became so eager for her touch and her love that you couldn't even focus on your dance steps.

You decided to start paying her visits on the show and that's when you saw Kirsten. A beautiful and sweet girl who would always welcome you to the set with a warm smile that made your insides twist.

"Baby! What are you doing here?" Bada asked as she wrapped her arms around you making you divert your attention to your tall girlfriend.

"I just missed you. I know I've been coming every day but I have a free day today so I will stay here and watch you work," you said and sat down in a corner allowing your girlfriend to go back to work.

As she practiced you couldn't focus your attention on either one of the girls in the room. The way Bada would move was so addicting but then Kirsten's hips would hypnotize you.

During a small break that they took, the cameras stopped rolling and Kirsten immediately approached Bada. You watched them chat from afar with a wide smile on your face.

Kirsten hugged Bada getting on her tippy toes to reach her shoulder and Bada wrapped her arms around Kirsten's waist. They kept talking and Kirsten's hand would not leave Bada's hip. They laughed and the skinship wouldn't end between the two.

You should've felt jealous but the odd emotion was not present anywhere in your body. The way you wanted both of them was odd and made you feel bad for feeling turned on as their sweaty bodies pressed against each other.

-

Later that night after a steamy makeout session and doing a few dirty things, you lay in bed with her wrapped around you. You bit your lip hesitant to ask her the question that has been on your mind all day. Regardless, you took the initiative.

"Bada... what do you think of Kirsten?" you asked and waited for her answer.

"Mhh, I think she is really nice. The is talented, and pretty. Why?" she said and you turned to her.

"No. I mean like... do you see her in any other way? Ugh! I don't know how to say this..." you subbed your face as you sat up.

"I mean like... sexually or romantically," you said with a softer tone.

"Well... she is really sexy and the way she moves her body is just wow... you know? but, why are you asking this?" She said.

"Well, you could say that I have been a bit... needy for you. And I see how you look at Kirsten and the way you bite your lip every time she twerks, dances, or moves her body. You always hype her up and I see all of that," you said hitting her arm.

"I'm sorry, baby. I really am. She's just really pretty and I-" You held your hand out signaling her to stop.

"I have a confession to make. I have to be honest and tell you that I feel the same. I love you so much and I wouldn't change you for anything in the world but I feel this strong pull toward Kirsten. Every time I see you interacting with her and you two get touchy, I feel... something. I get turned on and I just want both of you," you said Bada was speechless. 

As much as she wants to deny it, it was hard for her to see you as just her girlfriend. To her, you always had to be the perfect kpop idol girlfriend that has to hide but hearing what you just said made her feel more... at ease. She was now sure that you were just like her. Normal with valid emotions.

"Babe, that's deep. I wish you would've told me sooner. I guess we are both attracted to her, huh?" she said as she looked around the room. Then suddenly, an idea popped into her head.

"What if... never mind," she said immediately discarding the idea, but you being the curious bug you are, immediately asked her what it was practically begging for her thoughts.

"Well... we could invite her to bed with us," she said as she made a face expecting you to get mad at her for even suggesting or thinking about it but in response, you tilted your head.

"You mean like... a threesome?" you said and she nodded. You bit your lip in anticipation.

"You think she'd agree to that?" you asked.

"I have seen how she looks at you when the girls ask you to dance. We could lure her in here and see how things go... only if you are okay with it," she held your hands.

"I'm nervous but I think I can do it. Let's do it," You replied.

-

"Hey, Kirsten!" You said as you approached the five girls during a break.

"Hey, pretty girl! What brings you around today?" She asked and invited you to sit down with them.

"Oh, I just came to see BEBE do their thing. Some of them were my teachers in the past so... yeah," you said and she nodded.

"Anyway, we are having a small gathering at Bada's apartment and I'd love for you guys to come. What do you say?" You asked. One by one they started to agree and it was a done deal.

Later that night, some of the girls showed up at Bada's place. There was music, drinking, and dancing. There were no cameras, therefore no limits.

Everyone danced to their own free will and drank till one by one they started leaving. Audrey, Emma, and Ling dragged LaTrice out of the house early when she was knocked out and left Kirsten behind.

It was only you three in the apartment. You were sober enough to know what you were doing. You and Bada exchanged a glance when you noticed how Kirsten threw her head back.

"Are you feeling okay, Kirs?" You said and she lifted her head to smile.

"Yeah. I didn't drink at all so I'm fine. But I am really tired. It's been a long time since I partied like this." she replied with a laugh.

"You can use my bedroom to rest for a bit. It's right down the hall," Bada said.

"You're too kind. I wouldn't want to mess things up around here so I think I'll just leave." She said getting up.

"It's late. I don't think you should leave," Bada said as she stood up as well. You had no choice but to follow your girl's lead.

"Listen, you two are a lovely couple and I will keep that secret. I'm sorry if I am getting in the way of anything, I really didn't mean to, and if I stay..." She stopped for a second before shaking her head and grabbing her purse.

"Wait," you said as you took hold of her arm. You knew what was going through her mind. You didn't know how she was the only one left in the apartment but this is what you and Bada intended.

"We feel the same. I don't know if it's right or wrong but it's eating me up and I can't handle it," you said not letting go of her hand. Kirsten's eyes teared up a bit and she bit her lip.

"Why don't you show her to the room while I clean up a bit? I won't take long," Bada said as she pushed you forward slightly and you nodded.

You took Kirsten's hand and took her to the room. She sat down in the bed and you were next to her. Your shoulders were touched but not a word was said as your hand nervously played with hers.

"What does Bada think of all of this?" She asked.

"She's okay with it. I know my girlfriend Kirs and the way she looks at you just gives it away. I mean, you are gorgeous," you said looking at her and she smiled when your eyes met.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head as you moved forward expecting to meet her lips and when they finally did the kiss was eager and sloppy. You wanted to undress her but she made it easier for you and removed her shirt.

"Kirsten..." you moaned into the kiss.

"Mh... you two seem to be having fun. Why didn't you wait for me?" you heard Bada say and turned to her.

"Sorry, baby," you said and she smirked as she walked towards Kirsten.

"Look how ready you are for us," she said as she lifted Kirsten's chin. You smiled at the sight.

Bada used her head to signal for Kirsten to get in the bed and she didn't hesitate to follow along. She moved up and Bada stood next to you as she helped you remove your dress leaving you in underwear.

She whispered something in your ear and Kirsten was just looking at you two waiting for what she needed.

You smiled and got in the bed to remove her bra completely while Bada removed her bottoms and panties. You could hear Kirsten whimpering under Bada's touch. Who wouldn't?

"Just relax. We're going to make you feel so good," Bada said and you used your hand to trace Kirsten's abs. You could see Bada position herself in between Kirsten and you felt turned on by her action.

You groped her breast slightly pinching her nipple. By the time Bada worked her tongue on her clit, you worked on her breast sucking and groping. Her moans were loud and her words were incoherent.

She used her free left hand to pull in Bada's hair and her other hand found her way to your sensitive clothed area rubbing ever so slightly and causing moans to leave your mouth.

Bada stopped her actions and lifted your head by the hair. This was a new aggressive side of her that turned you on even more. She kissed your lips making you taste Kirsten.

She switched positions with you. You continued to eat Kirsten out filling the room with her lustful moans when you heard her voice muffled.

As you looked up slightly, you saw your girlfriend undressed and on top of Kirsten's face. She lowered herself onto Kirsten's tongue as shaky moans escaped her lips when her hips moved.

You moaned at the sight of Bada riding her face as she caressed her own breast. The sight of Kirsten gripping the bed sheets as her tongue worked magic on Bada's wet folds completely disheveled and ruined under the both of you.

That moan that escaped your lips was enough to drive Kirsten to the edge and she came on your lips. You smiled at the sight of her tight hole clenching around nothing and you moved up to kiss Bada making her taste the cum that came out of Kirsten.

Not long after a loud moan escaped Bada's lips as you two made out and you could see how flushed she was. She had finally came on Kirsten's tongue.

Bada moved off her. She was still struggling to regulate her breathing from her previous climax and held onto you. Kirsten was too tired to even open her eyes. She was now relaxed and she seemed to be slowly falling asleep.

"I haven't even started with you," Bada said as she pulled you down and ripped off the underwear from your body.

You whimpered as you felt her spread your legs apart exposing your dripping wetness. She bit her lips and immediately went down on you. As her tongue played with your sensitive bud. Two of her fingers inserted inside of you.

You moaned loudly and your nails dug into her shoulders. She moved back up and kissed you passionately almost as if she wanted to prove to you that you were the only one in her eyes after what just happened.

Her fingers had never been inside of you but they felt so good as they moved against your gummy walls. Gushy sounds emitted from you as she pounded with force. Her thumb rubbed against your clit and her long and beautiful fingers curled inside of you hitting your spot perfectly.

"B-Bada... I can't. I can't handle it," you said.

"You're being such a good girl from me. Just a little longer and I promise you will feel so good. Just hang a bit more. Don't cum... Not until I let you," she said and bit your bottom lip.

After a few more thrusts you felt a build-up in the pit of your stomach and dropped down on the bed. Your body at the verge of convulsing from the pleasure Bada was giving you yet she enjoyed the sight of your bare body shaking under her touch.

"Who do you belong to?" She said.

"Y-you... only you, Bada," you said between moans and with struggle.

"Cum for me, Y/N," she said and you didn't wait another second to release on her hand. She brought her cum covered fingers staring into Kirsten's mouth who had been enjoying the show before her eyes. She shoved them into her mouth making Kirsten moan.

"Get a taste. You two did so good for me," Bada said. Your body was unable to move any longer due to the previous activities.

Kirsten was also drained and Bada dropped her body in between the both of you. It was a good thing you convinced Bada to get a bigger bed. You three perfectly fit in that bed.

The following day, as the scenes from the night before flashed in your head, you covered your face when both Bada and Kirsten greeted you in the morning. You avoided their gaze to which Kirsten giggled.

"Y/N, did you want some breakfast, baby?" Bada said in her raspy morning voice. You flustered and shy, responded with a simple yes, still avoiding her gaze.

You felt her hand on your face making you look up at her.

"Look at me when I talk to you," she said and you nodded.

"Good girl," she said before walking to the kitchen and making breakfast.

"I have early practice but... let's do this again sometime," Kirsten said before trying to walk out of the room. You grabbed her arm.

"Promise?" You said and her face flashed a bright red before nodding and walking out of the room.

"Since when did you become so bold, babe?" Bada said as she peeked her head through the door frame.

"Since last night, Bada Lee," you replied and walked back to the room as she checked out your figure.

"Bada, what have you done to those two?" She asked herself with a chuckle and went back to preparing a meal.

Thank you for reading!🩵🩷

[ladyinbooks]

So at any given point (in any given day), you can usually find me thinking about Hephaistion Amyntoros. (Yes, I'm a Classicist. Yes, I have favourites, ok?)

I recently made the choice to watch Netflix's Alexander the Great docudrama, and while I have a lot of Thoughts on it (let's not get me started on the cutesy nicknames, because I'm still gnashing my teeth), I did have a good laugh at the fact some reviewers are getting themselves in an absolute twist over the fact that Alexander might have - gasp! - been in love with Hephaistion! (I feel like we're reliving 2004, and the legendary threat by a group of Greek lawyers to sue Oliver Stone over this exact same thing...). The whole Alexander/Hephaistion thing is not...new. At all. I am not sure why this is apparently a surprise.

(Like, it's 2024 and we're still really ignoring Diogenes and his little dig to Alexander about Hephaistion's thighs, huh?*)

Personally, I take far more issue with not letting Hephaistion be seen as competent in documentaries/dramas. Let him be his awesome self! He was out there running logistics, enacting diplomacy, getting the army fed and watered and running Alexander's empire (not on his own, but he achieved the highest ranking office the year before his death and he got it because he was darn good at what he did). Hephaistion was capable. Eminently capable. He had politicians and philosophers writing to him, and yes the likelihood was they did so because he had the ear of the king, but the reason he had that ear at all was because the king trusted him to handle those issues well.

So let's give the man his dues please. (And if you'd like more info on any of this, I'd wholeheartedly suggest picking up any of the research done by Dr Jeanne Reames, who examines Hephaistion and his role beautifully.)

*Yes, I know, that source is unreliable - ssh, let me have this

[sunsents]

neteyam sully - drunken confessions

I saw a fic where yn gets drunk and confesses to Neteyam, but I truly have no idea whose it was nor was I able to find it. For that, I apologize. If you're that author, or if anyone knows who that is author is please tag them in the comments so that I can give the right credits.

➵ summary: Fed up with your platonic feelings towards Neteyam Sully, you decide to let loose during a festival. Never would you have guessed your drunken state would decide to take matters into her own hands and deal with your feelings personally.

➵ pairing: (aged!up)neteyam x fem!reader(no use of y/n)

➵ word count: 3.8k

➵ warnings: alcohol consumption, one kiss, fluff

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

"Who wants another kiss!"

Yelling to no one in particular, you slur your words together as your drink sloshes in the wooden cup - darn whoever let you have it in the first place. When you bring the bowl to your lips, you frown. "Who..." You blink, though it’s obscenely uncoordinated. "Who drank my drink?"

Neteyam doesn't know what's worse; the fact that you think someone would dare to drink out of your cup, or that you have no idea it was you who sabotaged the evening by spilling the contents of your drink.

"Bro, you have got to try this!"

Lo'ak holds two bowls filled with something - the fumes hit your nose and your face pinches in disgust. It's pungent and positively putrid—no sane Na’vi would look at the liquid and immediately think ‘I’m going to put this in my mouth.’ 

You survey the boy with questioning eyes, then scan the clearing. 

Tsireya was finally of age and appointed as Tsahik, which prompted a lively celebration filled generously with roaring music, food, and alcohol. Ronal, the previous clan tsahik, had decided to leave her place for the younger woman to spend her days enjoying the fruits of domestic bliss with her elder husband, Tonowari. 

You're delighted, of course. As is anyone in the clan. Tsireya had been your closest friend since birth when she pulled on your kuru and you pulled on hers - grabby hands aching to get ahold of anything and possibly everything as a youngling.

Lo'ak is beaming as he looks at you, it's almost blinding. "Eh, why not." you relent, taking the bowl from his hand.

The boisterous atmosphere is accompanied by a majestic fire that lights up the eclipse sky. People are dancing and having fun in the golden glow of it all - everything is so warm that you're feeling heaps more open-minded than at any other time. 

Lo'ak smirks at you before downing his drink in one gulp. Impressed, you follow suit. The liquid burns your throat and you can't help but cough, had you bitten off more than you could chew?

You were of age, no one would be there to chastise you, a grown woman, for drinking. The only worry that plagued your mind was embarassing yourself.

Whether you liked it or not, Neteyam Sully would always be there to catch you in your most embarassing moments to poke fun. This time around would surely be nothing different. 

You huff, not allowing him to consume your thoughts. No, you were going to enjoy yourself tonight and celebrate your best friend's success.

Determined, you march up to the large table where drinks are being presented. "Lo'ak," you call out, firm. "I bet I can outdrink your scrawny ass."

You did outdrink Lo'ak. Then Tikanu, and Rotxo. Perhaps Aonung was also involved at some point, and then some.

You can’t think straight when you're drunk off of your teal-blue ass and swaying gently to the music. It's consuming and frankly, you don't have the decorum to care about the quality of your moves. It's a sway of hips, a clash of limbs - the closing of your eyes and the humming of your throat. Other people are no better, you're sure. Lo'ak passed out hours ago, then got found by a very angry Tsireya. The man was pure pleas and apologies, even mushier when drunk.

"____?"

The deep treble of his voice replaces the music you feel deep in your bones. "Neteyam!"

You giggle obscenely and fuck, sober you is going to be so embarrassed tomorrow. But drunk you is a piece of shit - a force of Eywa that cannot be reckoned with. With your hands in the air, you lunge into Neteyam's arms. He catches you with an oomph. 

"What-" he clears his throat. "Are you drunk?" 

You frown as you clumsily part from him. "No, I'm ____. “

As he waits for your next drunken action, you manage to think of a joke rather than say it. It’s funny enough to make you laugh loudly, but not so much that you verbally announce it to the man before you. 

Neteyam merely looks at you with amusement.

"Sorry, Made a joke..." you mumble with a giggle. "T'was funny."

He waits expectantly.

You blink at him. "Pretty..."

He chuckles lowly and crosses his arms on his chest. “I think we should get you home, hm?”

In your hazed mind, Neteyam has a halo around him. With feathers in his hair, fresh tattoos on his smooth skin, and a strong frame covered in accessories, he's glowing like the morning sun. You shout excitedly, feeling all too happy for him. "I'm gonna kiss you, I think."

At least you had the decency to warn the poor man before you grab his cheeks with wide palms and smash your lips onto his. It's vulgar and wet, you feel him freeze in your hold. You swear you hear him groan, melting forward before he quickly snaps back.

"Oh-kay, you're definitely drunk. Come one, up up, we're taking you home." He’s about to lift you with an arm behind your knees and the small of your back before you push his chest. 

"No!" You whine, then turn around all too suddenly. Your vision scrambles to catch up with the sudden change. "Who wants another kiss!"

When a huddle of men perk up in interest - all drunk and ravenous, Neteyam lets out a growl that surprises himself. He takes a deep breath, counts to ten, then breathes out.

Ketu'ney, a clan warrior known for his rich plays in hunting parties steps forward. "I would," he smirks, all too proud.

"Oh! Me too, me too!" Kiri, drunk and bouncing on the soles of her feet, comes forward. 

"Everyone gets a kiss!" You declare happily.

"Oh no you don't."

Neteyam grabs you by the hips and slings you over his shoulder like a sack. "We're going to your kelku, and you're putting your ass to bed."

If you were any less drunk, you would be embarrassed by the position he has you in. But you're not, dramatically waving to your friend as a parting gesture. They wave back just as enthusiastically, a little confused but spirited nonetheless.

You feel the buzz of Neteyam's chuckle on your thighs; he's got them pressed to his chest so you don't slide down. Slung over his shoulder, you decide to enjoy the view of his back rather than complain. "Nice," you smirk, peering down further.

"Are you looking at my ass, ____?" Neteyam asks, entirely amused.

"No, it's looking at me."

Neteyam barks out a laugh - it bubbles from his chest and rasps out of his throat. Your heart flutters just a little, he had such an attractive laugh. His face was entirely his mother, and so was his determination, strong mind, and free spirit. Yet he also had the stubbornness and the laugh of his father. You knew it would be a combination that would cause your downfall.

You are falling, you realize. Neteyam has deposited you on your nest like some weight he needs to take care of. You groggily look around and realize you're in your kelku. 

Inhaling deeply, you let out a huff of air with lidded eyes. "Can I go to sleep now, please and thank you,"

Neteyam sits down next to you with a soft hand on your shoulder. Through your hazed view, you realize he's smiling. "Alright sweet girl, let's sleep this off."

You nod, looking around for no particular reason. The kelku feels all the more warm and homely with Neteyam in it, or perhaps the alcohol in your system pushes you to entertain a false domestic fantasy with the only man you've ever pined after.

He smooths down your hair gently, "If you feel like puking, just tap my shoulder." He gets up and grabs an old wooden bin, then sets it beside the nest. "Water..." he mutters to himself.

You lazily watch as he moves around the room in search of something. With narrowed eyes, he comes back with a bowl of water. 

You reach out, (way too off in your aim, Neteyam has to guide your hand) and slowly gulp the liquid down before collapsing. "Feel so bad...ugh," you drawl off, smacking your lips as sleep dances around your lips. "I wanna go swim, I think."

You feel him settle beside you in the nest. His arm reaches back and pulls you into his warmth. As he traces a plethora of shapes on your skin, the urge to close your eyes becomes undeniable. "Just go to sleep ___, you'll feel better in the morning."

"No," you whine, fighting for consciousness, "Wanna...fine."

Promptly closing your eyes, you turn the other way and huff into the silence.

When sunlight invades through the flap of your kelku, you have the audacity to mumble a 'fuck off'. 

Sharp pain shoots through your spine and lingers in your head. The intensity of it throbs your scalp and muffles your ears. Groaning, you try to get a grasp of why the fuck you feel like dying.

Lo'ak, alcohol, Neteyam. 

Slowly but surely, the events come back and you regret welcoming them into your consciousness. You frantically look around, eyes landing on Neteyam across the marui, dicing fruit and mincing some kind of herb. His ears flicker, golden eyes darting to your face. "Good morning to you too," he smiles, sitting comfortably on the back of his heels, his strong thighs supporting his weight and looking entirely like his father.

You're hot - the realization sinks your heart until it hits rock bottom. Embarrassment floods through you like a tidal wave and oh Eywa - you want nothing more than to curve into yourself until you become a small pebble and get lost in the ocean. 

You had thrown yourself at him like some desperate fool, which forced him to take responsibility for your stupid, drunk self—Eywa knows what embarassing secrets you told him. You remember the major events - being offered drinks, challenging unlucky bystanders, dancing, and trying to kiss anything and anyone. The rest and the in-betweens are mind-boggling blurs because your headache won't let you think.

"Morning," you croak, then reach for the bowl of water on the side of your nest. The cold liquid tastes like gold running down your throat - when had water ever tasted this good? You moan involuntarily, gulping it down like a quenched woman left in the dune for days. The liquid dribbles down your chin and you're far too thirsty to care. 

When you put the bowl down, you're even more embarrassed than before by the look Neteyam gives you. He grins, "How are you feeling, more water?"

You're a little shy now, smiling and looking away. "No, thank you," you murmur, folding your hands on your lap primly. The properness of the action almost makes you laugh—it was only yesterday you were going around kissing people, throwing yourself onto Neteyam, and wreaking havoc across the village. It's almost humbling; you have no idea how to bounce back from the hole you've buried yourself in. Neteyam is Toruk Makto's son, and lest the sky people hadn’t disturbed the peace, he would be Olo'Eyktan of Omaticaya. His status is humbling enough that you fight the urge to bow your head down and apologize for the inconvenience. 

But you don't. Not when you've known him for seven years (more of admired him from a distance, with the occasional small talk because of obligation - on his part, you were friends with half his family, after all) and saw each other enough to be called acquaintances. Though, you would always be Lo'ak's friend who encourages dumb decisions, Tsireya's other close friend besides Rotxo and Pewli, or Kiri's weaving partner. Nothing more, nothing less. 

"Ma ___?" he addresses, and it takes too much of you to control your flushed state. 

"Oh," you make a surprised noise, "Sorry, my head hurts."

He gathers his trinkets and squats next to your nest, "Here."

"What is it?" you tilt your head, nostrils flaring. "Smells weird."

"It's medicine for your hangover," he quips, getting impatient.

You scrunch your face in disgust, "No way I'm drinking that, it smells like Ilu waste."

"Will you just drink it," he sighs, shoving the cup to your face.

You're quick to turn away, mussed morning hair flying with your movement. "No,"

"Stop being so stubborn," - you turn your head to the other side when he makes an effort to follow your lips with the cup. "You're worse than Tuk," he grumbles, fighting for your submission. With a final huff, he grabs your face, smushes your cheeks together, and drains the liquid down the opening your puffed lips prompted. It seems practiced, this action; you can only guess how persistently Tuk fights against medicine she doesn't particularly enjoy. You choke, having no choice but to swallow the horrible abomination. 

"You're like a baby," he grunts, "that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

"It was," you croak. "Blech,"

Neteyam chuckles all the same, then stands up to wash the used cups and bowls. Guilt squeezes your chest, not only because he was washing your dishes and taking care of you, but because you were enjoying it. You were having a glimpse of what life could be with Neteyam - waking up to him making you breakfast, taking care of you when you make idiotic decisions, watching him carry out household tasks like it's the most natural thing. 

"Neteyam," you call out. "Please, you don't have to do that.". 

He makes no indication of stopping his tidying anytime soon - tidying your kelku, like he also lived here and had to have it uncluttered. You slowly get up, conscious of your headache that seems to be dulling away, then slowly patter your way to him. Ear tips catching fire, you put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Please."

He stops his cleaning and crosses his arms. "This place is a mess, ____. "

"I wasn't expecting guests," you grumble, putting away the utensils in their appointed baskets. "Look, I want to apologize for yesterday."

"It's- it's fine. Really," he shakes his head.

"No, it isn't fine. I made a huge fool of myself - Eywa, I'm so embarrassed." you groan. "You even took care of me which is just so nice. You really didn't have to,"

He smirks, "I couldn't let you roam around drunk, kissing everyone on sight."

With a painful groan, you hide your face between your palms. It seems Neteyam was determined to rub salt in your wound.

"You're fine, ____. " he drawls only a little to emphasize that you really were fine, because he made sure you were, crossing his arms and facing you fully. "Everyone else was just as drunk, Kiri could barely hold her head up."

You nod, guilt still lingering behind your shoulder, and peering at Neteyam. In your checklist of 'things to apologize for', the next line was going to be a dreadful experience - located right next to apologize to anyone else you possibly might have kissed. Taking a deep breath, the words. "I'm sorry I kissed you," is blurted in one breath. 

You watch Neteyam's ear twitch, and his eyes widen. With a soft chuckle, he takes his sweet time coming up with a response. Your heart pounds in your chest and you hope he can't hear it as well - which was doubtful since it was beating for him. His laugh sinks the soles of your feet down into the marui floor, readying to plummet you down when he eventually rejects you and tells you it was like kissing his baby sister's weird friend. Because while you had your fair share of friends, Neteyam always caught you at your worst. 

You have to shake your head for the images to stop playing; when you were talking to Kiri, who was blocked out of view by a huge palm tree and thus, made you appear as though you were having casual conversation with yourself - Neteyam and Lo'ak were passing by, and were kind enough to ignore you out of pity, (Lo'ak laughed about it for days until his mother had to intervene). Or when horrid-smelling seaweed got stuck to your Iknimaya outfit during the ceremony, which caused the stench to stick to your skin during the festival. When Neteyam approached you to celebrate your adulthood, he was holding his nose with watery eyes. 

Worst of all, whenever he was around, you became this clumsy, uncoordinated mess. You were either breaking something, tripping on something, or saying something you shouldn't be saying. 

Thankfully, Neteyam's voice seems to stop the images. "You do not have to apologize for that," he winces, narrowing his eyes while averting his gaze.

You gulp, "Oh, okay." your voice sounds unlike your own. "Why?"

"You were drunk and unconscious of your actions," he says firmly.

"But I overstepped my boundaries," you continue, fighting your case.

Neteyam gives you a look that you can't decipher, and it eats away at your insides. He's been giving you these looks for years now, settling into your soul and engraving it so whenever you close your eyes, you could see his expression.

"You, kissing me, is a boundary I'm willing to overstep. Why can't you realize that?"

You gawk at him. His words don't settle in for another five seconds, but when the implications start rushing in, your heart squeezes with the most welcomed pain. "W-what?"

Netetam huffs a frustrated breath, then pinches the bridge of his nose. With squeezed eyes, he sits on his hunches. He says your full name, and you have no choice but to kneel down and sit in front of him as well. 

"I have been trying to court you for 3 years now but you're one difficult woman to impress." 

You would argue that the sound you let out is inhumane. You choke on your breath. "Excuse me?" you try to process his words. "What- I had no idea!"

"No idea? ____, why the hell would I look after your drunk ass if I wasn't the slightest bit interested. I slept here, I made you breakfast, and I'm tidying your home! All to prove that I can provide for you." Neteyam sighs, and you lower your ears at the unfamiliar ‘hell’ word. He seems frustrated and you can only hope it isn't at you. 

He notices your demeanor and softens, gently grabbing your hand. "My love, I weaved you gifts, I always offered you the biggest plays I caught, I invited you to eat with my family several times, and I even got Tonowari's approval!"

While what Neteyam says is inherently true, it holds some falsehood - and this frustrates you. He can't put the blame on you entirely, and you realize that his warrior ego is far too big for him to admit his attempts were simply not enough. 

"No," you say lowly. "The gifts you weaved me always had colors of cordiality on them. You offered my entire family food. And you didn't invite me to eat with your family, Lo'ak, Kiri and Tuk did." You count as you list them on your finger.

Neteyam flushes a deep color that compliments his cheeks beautifully, and for a moment you forget the entirety of the conversation. "I asked my siblings to invite you since you were closer to them - I was scared you would refuse if I asked. And whatever do you mean, cordial colors?"

"You know, the colors that indicate a platonic friendship."

He gawks at you. "I don't know of this!"

"Neteyam, you've been in our clan for years, surely, you've heard it somewhere."

"No!" he gets a little panicked. "I just thought you liked those colors, you always wear them."

"Because these were given to me by my friends!" you touch your jewelry for added effect.

Neteyam falls back from his position clumsily, holding his forehead. The view makes you soften entirely - you never thought you'd see Neteyam, always so calm, calculated, and graceful, panicking and awkward like this. He seems like he isn't in control of his actions and feelings which is evidently making him frustrated even more.

You crawl towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder soothingly. He flinches slightly at the touch, and you can see his nape starting to flush a deep color. His body is hot beneath your fingertips, and you can almost feel it thrumming. "Eywa, I'm such a failure. I asked everyone how to court you properly and they gave me these...answers. And I did all of them. All of them-  you didn't even blink in my direction - you,"

He looks at you, eyes blown wide. "You turn me into this clumsy, awkward fool. I hate not being in control," 

“Aww,” you coo, heart soaring. Taking a deep breath, you try to calm down to provide him some sort of comfort. "Neteyam, I like you too. I've liked you ever since you and your family came seeking uturu."

He gasps, "That long? Why didn't you ever-"

"For the same reasons you haven't." you sigh. "I'm always making a fool of myself whenever you're around. Take last night for example,"

Neteyam smiles fondly. "I thought you were adorable, clinging onto me, checking my ass out."

You groan, hitting his arm softly. "I thought you liked me. You don't tease the one you like,"

Neteyam grabs your hand before you can retract it. He pulls you forward until you're almost kissing him. Almost. "Oh, but I think you do," he smirks. 

Face hot, tail twitching, you suck in a breath. 

"So, you like me, and I know I love you,"

You gasp, not breaking eye contact. 

"We wasted all those years for nothing." he huffs, "I could have had you much sooner than this and saved us all the trouble. I shouldn't have asked my dad and Lo'ak for courting advice, they're helpless."

You giggle, putting a hand on his chest. The joy you're feeling is inexplicable, you feel it lingering down to your feet and floating you. His hand covers yours, squeezing it softly. "Yeah, you probably shouldn't have."

"Aren't you demanding," he grins, gaze fluttering down to your lips. "I will court you the right way from now on,"

"You should ask Rotxo," 

He furrows his forehead, "Rotxo? You're joking!"

You swat at his arm with your free hand. "No, I'm not. Rotxo is more romantic than all of you combined. Don't you see how flustered Kiri gets whenever he's around? The man knows what he's doing."

"Are you purposefully trying to make me jealous right now?" Neteyam grumbles, catching your free hand. He presses it to his heart, and you hope this will become a practiced gesture as well. "Don't talk about other men this close to my lips, yawne."

You roll your eyes, though your blush is undeniable. "Jealous already?"

"Always," Neteyam whispers, pressing your palm on his heart. The breath he lets out hits your lips.

"Neteyam, kiss me before I lose my mind."

And he does, softly until it's no longer the lingering touch of his plush lips but the two of you, grinning from ear to ear, unable to kiss due to your uncontrollable smiles. 

[thetomorrowshow]

“Griiaaaan! It’s cold.”

“It’s not cold. Be quiet.”

And the stupid thing is, it is cold. Grian’s never lived in a desert before, but he’d expected it to be hot all the time, not just during the day. It’s the desert, after all—the only things that grow here are spindly leafless bushes, and all the animals that he’s spotted spend most of their time in the shade of sand mounds and rocks.

Most of the nights have still been a bit warm for what Grian’s used to, but apparently the winter’s coming on fast, and it surely has nothing to do with a certain Red King. An execution had occurred just this morning, and now Ren is Red, and apparently the rest of the world has been suffering from it.

“Yes it is,” grumbles the pile of blankets beside him, and Grian sighs.

He’s supposed to be on watch alone, for half the night, then wake up Scar to watch the other half. Scar, however, thinks that keeping watch is stupid, even when Grian has repeatedly stressed that he is no longer the only Red on the server, and one of the others is a very dangerous enemy to them.

“If you’re cold, get in bed,” Grian tells him, and Scar shifts and bit before speaking, teeth clacking together exaggeratedly.

“It’s c-cold there too!”

Grian rolls his eyes, wraps his arms a little tighter around himself. His sweater’s getting pretty scraggly these days. He just had to darn the elbow last week, but that’s about the extent of his knitting skills. If it falls apart completely, he’ll be stuck in just his undershirt, nothing to keep him warm in the approaching winter.

“You know, there’s a way to make us both warm,” Scar teases, his head emerging from the blankets to wink at Grian. Grian shoves him.

“Scar! Stop it and go to bed!”

“Oh, come on, I didn’t mean anything!” Scar says innocently. “I just meant if we were both in bed right now, we could be sharing body heat! I don’t know what you thought I meant. You have a dirty mind, Grian.”

Grian buries his face in his hands. He never should have signed up for this. Out of the ten-some other players in the immediate vicinity, why couldn’t he have blown up anyone else? Why couldn’t he end up with loyalty pledged to Tango, or Etho, or literally any other player on the server?

“C’mon, Grian,” Scar wheedles. “Nobody’s gonna attack! We have the cactus walls, and the lava moat, and the alarm system you rigged today! Even if someone did try to take some sand, we’d know.”

“Right. The alarm system that consists of a bunch of bells and string, which goes off at the slightest breeze. I have so much faith in it.”

“Great, we’re on the same page! So it’ll be totally safe for us to sleep together.” “Scar! I will push you off my mountain!”

“Hey! I resent that—it’s as much my mountain as it is yours.”

Grian lifts his head. Enough of Scar is visible that he can see the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

And somehow, he’s half tempted to agree with Scar just to get him to go to bed.

It is pretty chilly out, after all. And he’s very tired. He’d only volunteered to take first watch because he really didn’t want to be woken up in the middle of a sleep cycle. First watch just means staying up a couple of extra hours and then sleeping soundly.

He glances at Scar again, who—oh, he’s making the puppy-dog eyes—

“Fine,” Grian grumbles, hauling himself to his feet. Scar scrambles up as well and runs for the house, sand flying behind him.

“At least shake the blankets out!” calls Grian. Scar ignores him.

Does he really want to get into bed with a madman? All it takes is the Red haze getting to Scar, and he’s dead in an instant. No armor, no weapon, nothing to protect him from being stabbed in the gut by his supposed ally.

Then a bitingly cold gust of wind blows sand in his nostrils, and Grian decides he’s rather fed up with all this desert stuff and would much rather be asleep, Scar or no. They should be safe to not worry about watches until tomorrow—after all, Scar’s done nothing to torment anyone (other than Grian) this week! Never mind that it’s Monday night. 

He heads inside, shucking off his sweater right outside the door to shake it off. His bedroom is the first one on the left, putting Scar deeper in the house and therefore safer, so he turns to go in there—

Of course. Scar’s in his bed.

He’d held onto some strand of hope that maybe Scar had been joking about sleeping together, maybe he’d just been trying to get Grian to go to sleep so he could set out on some dastardly scheme without anyone to hold him back. But Scar’s there, blanket pulled up to his chin, a nightcap (where did he get that?) on his head.

“Why, hello there, Grian!” Scar grins at him. “Ready for some sleepy-times-with-Scar? I’ve been warming the bed up for you.”

Grian almost walks right back out the door. Suddenly, being on watch doesn’t sound that bad.

This might be the last full night of sleep he gets for a while.

“All right. Ground rules,” Grian says, shutting the bedroom door behind him. Scar cheers, arms up in the air, the blanket falling off to reveal a grey six-pack and copious amounts of sand.

“Scar! Put a shirt on! That’s the first rule, wear clothes!”

“But-but-but skin contact, Grian!”

“I am putting my foot down! Clothes on in bed!”

Muttering darkly to himself, Scar rolls out of bed, wearing nothing but his nightcap and a pair of shorts. Grian takes the opportunity to tear the sheets and covers off the bed, shaking them out before stretching them back over the thin mattress. He really ought to change the sheets, but he doesn’t have the wool nor the time to make an extra set. They’ll have to make do with this for now, and maybe he can take a moment tomorrow to wash them.

Scar’s put on a t-shirt, which Grian supposes is the best he’s going to get. He kicks off his shoes and socks, strips out of his jeans and dusts his legs off. There’s enough sand clinging to his leg hair that his skin has practically changed color, a clear line separating the brown and starkly pale from where his socks had been. That’s just awful. Of all places, why on earth did Scar have to pick the worst one?

He can dip into the river to bathe tomorrow, and maybe he can convince Scar to wash off as well (not likely, seeing as Scar has as much aversion to a bath as a feral cat, but it’s worth a try).

He’s washing the sheets anyway. It won’t be a problem to get them this little bit dirtier.

Grian climbs into bed, and Scar hops in next to him immediately. “Second ground rule—” Grian starts, but before he can finish, Scar has almost entirely enveloped him in a burning hot hug.

He can feel the tension just ooze out of Scar’s body as they lie there, Scar’s body burning his at every place they touch. The man sighs, burying his nose in Grian’s hair.

And Grian. . . .

Grian relaxes too.

Just a bit! And it’s just—it’s really just because he’s lying down, and he’s been so terribly tired. No other reason.

Still. He’s hesitant to push Scar away. He does, of course, sitting up to pull up the covers and thereby disrupting Scar’s hold.

“Second rule,” he repeats. “No touching. No cuddling, hugging, or anything of the sort.”

“That’s a bad rule.”

Grian sighs. “Oh yeah? Why?”

Scar gestures wildly, almost knocking the candle off the bedside table. Grian leans over him and grabs it just in time, blows out the flame. “Well—well, the whole reason we’re sleeping together is for shared body warmth! No touching totally ruins that!”

Grian shouldn’t give in easily. He really shouldn’t. But now bereft of Scar’s touch, he feels even colder than before. All the burning points of contact are just numb, now. And Grian really wants to be warm.

“All right, fine.”

Scar tackles him before he can even lie all the way down. Grian decides to just accept it, honestly. What else can he do?

“Third rule: no talking. We are here to sleep.”

Scar nods, releasing Grian for a moment to mime zipping up his lips.

Good. Grian lays back against his pillow, pulling the blanket up to his collarbone, and sighs. It’s not too bad, really. At least this way, if someone comes to kill them in their sleep, they’ll go out together.

That’s . . . a weird thought to have. Grian’s in the middle of decidedly not analyzing it when something ice cold presses against his legs.

He definitely does not screech as he kicks against it. “Scar! Get your cold feet away from me!”

“I’m sorry! It’s just that I’ve been so cold ever since I died, and you’re like a mini space heater over here!”

Grian groans, trying to maneuver his legs in such a way that as much of the covers as possible are between his legs and Scar’s. “I’m about to bring back rule number two, so behave.”

Scar falls silent again, and Grian tries to relax (in his arms). It’s not difficult to feel the pull of sleep. It’s not difficult to let sleep claim him, his limbs heavy and brain slowing to a soupy mush. It feels so nice to not be poised for battle, not be planning their next move. He hasn’t felt this peaceful in weeks.

“Grian?” comes a whisper from beside him.

He’s suddenly aware that he’s been drifting. He's not sure how long it’s been. Hours? Minutes?

“Rule number three,” he grouses.

A shifting of the covers, pulling them taut. “Sorry. Don’t worry about it!”

Reluctantly, Grian drags his eyes open. The world is still dark, the air as still as before. Scar had started to ask a question, and curse him for it because he knows that Grian’s too curious to let it go now. He has to know what Scar wanted. “No. Wha’ is it?”

“What do you miss most about Hermitcraft?”

Hermitcraft. He hasn’t properly thought about it in a while. It’s not that he’d forgotten it, but the longer they spend in 3rd Life, the farther away it is in his mind. This is—what, the sixth week?

Six weeks since he last did anything with his mansion. Six weeks since he restocked the Barge.

“My diamonds,” he says after a moment. “I was so rich, Scar. I had stacks of diamond blocks. Not that I don’t miss other things,” he adds. “Good community, and my mansion, and all that. I just miss the security of so much money.”

Scar hums into his hair, a shiver running down Grian’s back at the tingly feeling. A minute passes, and while Grian’s still barely keeping his eyes open he’s also still curious.

“What about you? What do you miss?”

“Jellie,” Scar says instantly, some sort of wistful longing in his voice that Grian hasn’t ever heard from him.

It’s understandable, of course. It’s his cat. It’s just that the entire time they’ve been playing this death game, Scar has never wanted something as badly as he wants Jellie right now. It’s touching, in a way—the idea that his love for that cat is so strong that even his Red name can’t make it waver.

And in another way, it’s annoying. Because somehow, Scar has retained the capacity to love and want and he’s only felt that way about a cat.

And Grian is definitely not jealous of a cat, of all things. That would be—that would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?

If he were fully awake right now, he’d probably stomp off to his creeper farm or go dig sand for a couple of hours until he's completely forgotten about these gnawing feelings and can focus.

But sleepy Grian acknowledges them, holds them close to his chest, and lets himself feel how desperately he wants to be wanted.

Right now, he’s as close to Scar as he can get, head pressed against his chest and strong arms around him. If anyone happened upon them right now, they would instantly assume the obvious.

Yet Grian’s never felt more alone.

“Scar,” he whispers before he can stop himself. “If I wasn’t here, would you miss me?”

Scar's been shuffling around every couple of seconds, so it’s apparent when he goes utterly still.

“Um. You’ve taken me a bit by surprise here, G,” Scar laughs nervously. Sleepy Grian takes that exact moment as a chance to listen to the rational side of Grian’s brain, which is screaming for him to shut up, run away, hide.

“Sorry,” Grian immediately says, face burning. “I—forget I said anything—”

Then Scar presses a kiss into his dirty hair, and Grian’s brain short-circuits.

“Of course I would miss you,” Scar murmurs. “I mean, we all would, but I would miss you the most. I didn’t put you on a llama and carry you away to the desert for nothing.”

Scar’s voice sounds so very fond that Grian can’t help it when his stomach flips a little. He pushes his head up against Scar’s chin, curls a little closer into his body. Scar really is as cold as he’d said. Grian finds himself wondering if he runs warmer normally, which of course makes his brain send him all sorts of ways he can find out when they get back to Hermitcraft.

Not that that will ever happen. This is—this doesn’t mean anything. It’s just two bros, cuddling and falling asleep together. Hermitcraft—and even just tomorrow—will be back to normal.

And perhaps most importantly, Grian cannot allow Scar to become a weakness. He cannot let their enemies see him like this, exhausted and yearning and lonely. He has to be strong to keep the both of them safe.

For now, though, he can just pretend like the game doesn’t exist. He can press closer to Scar, his skin burning in such a good way, and live in Scar’s arms.

In the morning, things will go back to normal.

And when Scar whispers, rasping words loud in the silence of the room, “Grian, I really really like you, I think,” Grian pretends to be asleep.