#I was listening to one part where it was so quiet I set my volume to 100%

[royalarchivist]

I pulled up the award show VOD because I wanted to watch at least a little bit of it before I went to sleep, and I was curious to see just how bad the audio was since I saw Retro make a tweet about it being scuffed, and Oh Boy. She Was Not Kidding.

[heavenlyysstuff]

A Foreign Feeling. 2

NETEYAM.s x fem! metkayina! reader

summary . after yesterdays events, you and Neteyam set off on a search for shells beyond the reef. You stay out a little longer than intended.

a/n . again, you don’t have to listen to the song I linked, I simply just like to put songs that I think fit the story’s vibe into the fic. thanks for all the support!

part 1 . part 2

♪˖ now playing .

all the stars . ( SZA ) ⊹.

Early in the morning, where the sky presented shades of pink and blue, you set off towards the Sully’s marui to collect Neteyam.

You’d gotten used to waking up this early, enjoying the hues of the sky and the coolness of the sea, you’d be happy to share it with Neteyam.

With a small bounce in your stride you quietly greet some hunters that pass, seemingly on their way out for some early morning hunting.

Unknown to you, a few hunters crane their necks back around as you pass, smirking to themselves at the thought of who you were off to see this early.

The whispers amongst them are silent to your ears, your mind already occupied with a certain someone.

It’s safe to assume most of the Sully family is still asleep, they probably would have no reason to be up at this time. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to wake Neteyam.

And your thoughts are cut to and end as you approach the Sully’s marui, a familiar figure sat outside with his legs dipped into the water.

“Good morning, Neteyam.” You speak while walking to stand next to him, keeping your voice at a quiet volume as to not disturb the rest of his sleeping family.

His ears perk up instantly, and he almost turns his whole body around to face you, but quickly calms down and just looks up at you. He inhales. “Good morning, y/n.” Immediate exhale, as if he had been preparing to say the words the second he woke up.

Your eyes scrunch as a smile reaches your face, but your expression turns to one of anxiousness. “I hope you weren’t waiting here too long, and sorry… I never really specified on the time, that was my bad.”

Neteyam doesn’t seem to be too disappointed though, in fact he looks a whole lot more bright after your appearance. “No, no it’s fine, I uh— I woke up awhile ago.” His eyes continuously flicker from your own to the ground as he talks.

With another smile placed on your face you make your way around him, “should we get to the ilu then?”

He scrambles to stand, “yea- okay.” His tail sways low behind him, and he freezes when he hears your quiet laugh as you walk away, a heat rushing to his face.

He mindlessly follows like a lost child.

The sounds of the ocean clashing against itself further relaxes you, and you take a saddle from the rack provided.

“You don’t mind riding with me, right?” You kneel down and start calling out to your ilu.

He abruptly turns to you, “oh, no. No it’s fine… it’s good.” coughing after his words.

“Okay good.” You speak while adjusting the saddle on your ilu. “I wouldn’t want to get separated outside the reef.”

“Yea…” Neteyam’s words slip out involuntarily as he becomes distracted by your attire of the day. It’s beautiful, no doubt. And he somehow feels a little special at the sight of a new outfit on your form as he dives into the cool water.

Once he rises to the surface a shaky exhale leaves him, his breath becomes quick and he sets his gaze upon you who is sat comfortably on your ilu. “It’s so cold.” He states the obvious.

You give him a pitiful smile as your shoulders raise in a silent laugh. “You get used to it.” With that you offer a hand out towards him.

He grasps your hand, but not once breaking his eye contact til he has to.

And now as you both sit on the ilu, Neteyam finds himself contemplating on where he should rest his hands. He would rest them on your waist like any other passenger would, but then again, it’s you.

The girl who had him looking through crowds just to find that certain pair of pretty eyes. The girl who had welcomed him and his family into the clan with no hesitation.

The girl he looked forward to seeing everyday. Who made his mornings a little more brighter.

Such sappy thoughts as he’s sat directly behind you, and it seems his mind had drifted so far that he didn’t realise his own hands, that had already made themselves comfortable around your waist as you direct your ilu out of the reef.

“I’m sorry for making you get up so early, you probably had plans today.” You speak your thoughts aloud, but thing is, Neteyam had cleared his whole schedule for you. Not that he had much planned at all, he had just let his parents know he’d be out for the morning, and they surprisingly didn’t ask for any specific details about his whereabouts.

He snaps out of it, again. “You don’t need to be sorry, I didn’t have anything to do anyways.” He’s pleased as your smile comes back on to your face as he peers out to see your side profile. “And I wanted to come.”

It had been awhile as the two of you continuously dived and surfaced through the water, looking for the best shells. at least, that was the case for you.

Neteyam had forced himself to hold his breath longer than he had practiced for, all to see your form glide through the oceans current.

He admired your movements, this time up close.

The way your hair had moved like silk through the water, and the way your body moved with the direction of the sea.

Once again he needs a breath, he quickly swims up towards the surface with the help of your ilu.

He gasps once he had reached the surface, but wastes no second to quickly plunge his head back underwater to locate you, who had began swimming up towards him.

You surface without so much as a sigh for air. “Are you alright?”

He hates the burning feeling down his throat, the result of accidentally swallowing some of the water when he was to distracted by you. “Yea, sorry I just— I need to practice breathing more, I guess.”

You giggle, and a thought enters your head. “Wait here a second.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly. He gives a shy smile.

You dive underwater once again, this time looking for a specific creature.

After a few moments of being underwater searching, you now come across what you had been looking for, quickly taking it and making your way back to Neteyam.

Once you surface, his head immediately snaps to you, then to the creature in your hands. “What it that?”

“It will help you breathe. You need to make the bond.” You reply and wait for him to connect to the creature, he does so hesitantly but surely. After that was done, you reach around his shoulders to place the creature comfortably on his back. “Now you can stay underwater longer with me.”

His eyes rest on your hands that remain on his shoulders, then back to you. Swallowing before he speaks, “good.”

Your eyes scan over his, what is visible, form before slowly tracing your hand from his shoulder down to his hand.. “Let’s go.” Another warm smile on your face, contagious, as it makes Neteyam smile even bigger.

You guide him by the hand, diving underwater and he follows with no hesitation, your fingers still intertwined.

The sun from above you, casted a shadow to form below you. The both of you look down, waving at your own shadows playfully.

You continue to take him deeper until the two of you are down next to the coral and other various sea life.

‘Let’s look for shells together.’ You sign, detaching your hands.

He looks confused for a moment. In his time of being here in the village, he only learnt some of the underwater language that you and Tsireya had taught him. He followed your hands as they moved… let’s… shells…together? He got the gist of what you’d were communicating, and he nods as a reply.

You take his hand once more, prompting him to follow you as you swim just above the oceans floor, occasionally brushing through it to find any hidden jewels.

While focused on your search, Neteyam finds himself looking at a different type of jewel.

In a way, your skin reminded him of the rich minerals he sometimes found in the caves back at home, a glowing blue that was even prettier under the water.

He also finds himself tightening his grip on your hand, just slightly. It almost goes unnoticed.

With your thumb, you rub his knuckles softly, and he can’t help but blush at the realisation of him being caught.

The two of you had searched the nearby sea top to bottom, occasionally going back up to the surface to breathe and share some words.

Neteyam hated the communication barrier he had with you underwater, and he promises himself that when the next lesson came, he’d try extra hard to get all the signs memorised.

The day continues with the two of you swimming through the water as it slowly got darker, not that either of your had noticed.

You had both found some beautiful shells, and once your hands got full you would put them in the bag that was attached to your ilu’s saddle.

Going through every crevice of the coral and searching every inch of sand, sometimes riding your ilu to go to another location, you both grew tired of the swimming, and you point upwards towards the surface as Neteyam follows.

You both gasp for the air, and quickly open your eyes to find each other. After calling your ilu, it’s then when the both of you realise the time.

The orange and pink hues in the sky indicate it’s soon night. You look at Neteyam, and he looks at you. You both start to laugh at the realisation. You had been out together all day.

“I…” your own giggle stops you for a moment, “sorry I didn’t mean to keep you out this long.”

His own laugh becomes louder, biting his lip to calm down, “no it’s alright. I had a lot of fun.” He climbs his way to sit behind you on your ilu, this time not hesitating to slide his hands around your waist as you guide your ilu underwater back to the village.

While the occasional times the two of you are above the water, you converse about all the shells you found, the topic soon changed though.

“Think we can make it back without our parents making a fuss?” You ponder aloud, momentarily looking behind you to find his gaze.

“No way.” He says, “but it’s worth it.”

“Why’s that?” A puzzled expression is put on your face.

“Because I got to spend time with you.”

Oh? He seemed to be getting more confident with his words, todays events made him more comfortable around you, and you love every second of it.

Shutting your eyes for a second and trying to hold back a smile you speak again. “I liked spending time with you as well.”

You had finally returned back to Awa’atlu. You wait until Neteyam climbed off of the ilu and stood onto the woven platform just above the sea. He reaches a hand out to help you lift yourself up next to him.

Once you had the bag of shells you both collected, and taken the saddle off your ilu, it was time to take yourself and Neteyam back home.

“I’ll walk you home.” You speak as you place the saddle back onto its place on the rack amongst others.

His tails swishes in contemplation. “You don’t mind?”

“No, of course not.”

He hums in appreciation, nodding his head downwards slightly as a sign of respect. The two of you begin walking to Neteyams home.

“We found a lot of good ones today, but I think it’s too much to go through today. So maybe we should take another day to go through it all together.” You state as your hand remains firm on the strap of the bag, “that way we both get an even amount, and you could make some jewellery for your family… if you’d like.”

He brightens up for the umpteenth time that day, the thought of being graced with your presence for another day bringing him to a peaceful mind space. “Yea, definitely. I’m free whenever so, just come over and we can go wherever you’d like.”

Your smile at his words immediately makes his knees feel weak, his heart also speeding up, not that anyone would notice of course.

“Here we are.” You stop a few feet from the entrance to his home. Neteyam snaps out of his trance and is brought back to reality.

“Ah.” He acknowledges, also noting the presence of his whole family inside the marui. “Thank you.” He turns his back to his family to continue conversing with you. “For today I mean, I don’t think I’ve gotten out alot since I got here.” He admits with a shy smile.

“Well, now you’ve got someone who will show you everything.” You reply sweetly, “I promise you ,I’ll take you everywhere on this island.”

Neteyam is stuck by your sincerity, completely in awe. “Sounds like a plan.” He’s starting to look forward to his life in this new environment.

You huff out a short giggle before you remember where you should be, “it’s getting late, I should get back home.” As much as you hate to leave him, it has to be done.

He hums from half disappointment and half understanding. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.” He takes a glance over your whole form before you had to leave.

“See you, Neteyam.” You wave while you start to head back towards your own home.

He finds himself stood there for a prolonged moment, staring at your retreating form before the voices of his family inside the marui bring him back.

Once inside, he’s immediately stopped upon noticing the silence as he enters, he looks up from the floor, only to find his whole family sat in some form of a circle, staring at him.

His own face turns to one of confusion, raising his brow sassily.

He quickly noticed his fathers smirk, but all attention is put to Lo’ak when he bursts out laughing.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Kiri jabs at him with her finger, also trying to shush tuk as she begins giggling.

Lo’ak gets a few words out in between laughs “well that answers our question.” That’s when his father starts to slip out a few of his own chuckles.

Among all the chaos of the fits of laughter, his mothers voice is what silences it. “Where have you been Neteyam?” She stands up and walks out of the circle towards her son.

“Sorry I— I’ve been out with y/n all day.” No point in making an excuse, especially with his mother.

“All day?” What have you been doing?” She’s quick with her questions and wants all details.

Neteyam gets a little quieter at the tone of his mothers voice. “She asked if I wanted to find shells with her.”

Neytiri softens at her sons tone, and suddenly is pushing his hair off his shoulders, then holding it all back with her hand making it look like he has a ponytail.

She scans for no longer than five seconds before releasing the boys hair. “Just tell someone where you are next time.” She speaks, and then backs off to finish off preparing diner.

Neteyam had watched as him mother left him be, and for a moment he thought he saw a smile on her face.

“Come sit, you’re probably hungry.” She insists once she had realised the fish is now done.

He smiles, and walks towards the circle to sit between his brother and littlest sister, Tuk.

As Neytiri handed out the food, and everyone making conversation of some type, Lo’ak leans a little closer to his older brother, a sly smirk on his face. “So you and y/n huh?

Neteyam pushes his face away with the palm of his hand, “shut up, bro.” He could deny that, but there’s no denying the smile he had on his face the rest of that night.

[defectivehero]

dialogue

Sometimes, I hate dialogue. Sometimes, I love it. Will I ever be perfect at it? Absolutely not. Are there a few things I've learned as I write more dialogue? ... Yes. Here are some of those things:

[as always, no pressure to use any of these tips. writing doesn't have a "one size fits all" formula.]

Conversations aren't always super smooth, equal exchanges where everything is reciprocated. Sometimes, individuals cut each other off. Sometimes, one individual is doing most of the talking while the other is mostly listening. Think about your characters and what is unique about them. Then, embrace that in your writing! Things like: a) answering questions two paragraphs later, b) dodging the subject and then coming back to it, and c) saying one thing but meaning another are just a few examples of ways to liven up dialogue. If a character is super energetic and eager, they may dominate the conversation (unknowingly or knowingly). If a character is more withdrawn, they may pause before speaking, speak in smaller fragments, or elect not to speak at all. The unique personalities and circumstances of your character can show through in dialogue.

Consider more than just the dialogue. This is probably my favorite thing to do, because sometimes, I just can't get the words to be perfect. And that's okay! Often, a sentiment is better portrayed through a description of a person's body language—think of gestures, facial expressions, etc—than through written dialogue. Think about a character who has gotten sick as an example. There's two ways you can approach their dialogue: 1) focus on the words they're speaking and use descriptions as accessories, or 2) focus on their body language and use dialogue as an accessory. I often find myself thinking that dialogue has to be the main focus, but it doesn't! For the sick character example, I try thinking about how they look and how they may feel. Often times, those kinds of things can also inspire dialogue! In this case, the sick character may: speak with a more raspy tone; have trouble getting the words out; have an interrupted flow of speech because of sniffles or coughs; shiver with cold or sweat; or have a hazy look to their eyes. Details like these often take away some of the pressure I put on myself to have the perfect dialogue.

Dive into the mechanics of the person's voice. Is their voice raspy, gravelly, deep, high? Is there an underlying emotion showing through? How about the volume—are they speaking loudly, softly, or somewhere in the middle? Do they accentuate their statements in a certain way, such as breaking their statements up into shorter phrases with pauses in between?

Think about the setting. I say something along these lines in virtually every writing tips post, but I think the setting is super important and a great way to add some flavor to a dialogue. Where are your characters? Is there anyone nearby—and if so, how do they respond? Do the characters drop to a whisper to avoid eavesdropping or do they carry on as normal? How about the place where the interaction occurs—is it traditionally loud, quiet, or somewhere in the middle? What time of day is it—does the conversation take place in the early morning (think raspy voices from sleep) or late at night (quieter to avoid noise)? Perhaps it's in midday, but the surrounding area is a street bustling with activity?

Explore the context behind the interaction. Why is the conversation occurring? Is it a purpose or task-focused interaction? Is it context-specific? Are there certain elements of language that can only be understood by certain people (think inside jokes or language specific to a place/occurrence)? Also, evaluate the importance of the interaction taking place and go from there. If you're stuck on a part that isn't necessarily inherent to the story (which I usually am), consider shifting to description instead! You can also use dialogue to reference past occurrences, if that makes things easier. Think of a character getting home from work and speaking to their partner. Their partner asks them about their day and the character explains it: "My boss said..." In this example, you would be able to bypass writing the actual interaction between the boss and the character, and instead introduce it to the audience through the character's retelling of it.

I hope these help! Sorry if they're confusing—dialogue is definitely difficult! Each writer will have their own process, and I'm not claiming that mine is picture-perfect.

[rendy-a]

amh if possible could hoy make hdcns for the dorm leaders ( separately ) reacting to their mc fem explaining the marvel universe and then puts them to watch the movies hehe ( ..also mc's fav hero is dead-pool ;) bc it gives me laugh imagine their reactions about this xd) , thanks in advance and take care<33

This certainly ended up being a little bit of a crack fic but it ended up amusing. Hope you enjoy it.

At first, he scoffs as such a time-wasting thing as wanting to watch dozens of movies.  Where is the educational value in this?

He is just too polite to refuse to listen, so he’ll end up letting you describe all your favorite scenes to him.

You are better off if he doesn’t take an interest because, if he does, he is going to turn into the worst sort of comic book geek.  Be ready to have him quote lore from issues of source material at you during any discussion on this from now on.

What do you mean who would win?  In Volume 3 #3, Thor clearly defeated Iron Man.  Don’t get upset Prefect, I don’t write the lore, I just recite it.

Doesn’t appear to be interested but, if you pause long enough, he’ll prompt you to go on.  It’s important to you, so he’ll try to care at least a little.

You’d never tell him this, but you love to banter with him because it reminds you of your favorite character.  Sometimes you wonder if he’d be pleased or offended to know who you remind him of.

Movie marathons?  Not only is he willing to do them with you, but he is also often the one who suggests them.  Don’t be deceived though, it’s not for the movie but for the quality nap time on the couch with you. 

Don’t turn that off, Herbivore, I’m watching it.  What do you mean I don’t know what’s going on?  This is the part where we learn her mom isn’t dead after all.  So quiet down and keep the lights off.

Please, he is in Board Game Club with Idia. You think this is the first time he has hmmm’d himself through a conversation about fictional characters?

Wait, you say that this makes a ton of money?  Tell him more about this merchandising and licensing.  Especially that, what do you call it…ah, Happy Meal.

You can eventually talk him into watching the movies with you for ‘research purposes.’  When you do, you can’t help but notice how teary-eyed he gets at the sad scenes.  He’s just so sensitive!

Deadpool is also his favorite character.  He feels a sort of connection to certain parts of his story.

So, she chooses to stay with him even though he looks like that?  No, I’m not blubbering.  No, I don’t need you to cuddle with me.  Ok, fine.  Just for a little while. 

He doesn’t get it, but he still loves it.  Sure, you have to explain everything to him three times, but he gets excited over your excitement.  Call him any time to talk about your theories on how things would have gone if Thanos had made a different wish on the infinity gauntlet.  He doesn’t mind if it’s 3 AM (just don’t let Jamil find out).

Movie marathons turn into parties.  Why just watch the movies when you can have themed snacks and dress up too?  Hulk smash cakes and Black Widow berry cobbler?  Yes, please.

His favorite part of any film is the soundtrack.  If he hears a song he likes, he gets up to dance along.  It’s pretty disruptive when you are watching the movie but when you see how much fun he is having, you find you don’t really mind after all.

Sorry Prefect, Jamil says we can’t have dance battles in Scarabia anymore.  Ooh!  But come by the Pop Music Club later.  I’m going to play all my favorite songs for Cater and Lilia. Ahaha!

You were worried Vil would dismiss your favorite Marvel films as inferior art, but he is actually rather generous about it.  He believes the film should suit the audience and, as so, there is nothing wrong with films like this that serve to entertain the masses.

Still, he can’t help but be critical of everything while you watch.  He doesn’t criticize the things you’d talk about with your friends but topics you’d hardly even notice while you watched like the set design and lighting.

You notice Vil seems secretly fond of Loki.  You think the idea of the Villain that survives the main movies to get his own spotlight series appeals to him.

No, Potato, I’m just saying the angle isn’t right for this sort of tone.  A shot from below would be more effective.  Plus…wait, are you having more popcorn?  I don’t think so, it’s past the time you can snack before bed.

You had expected Idia to be all in on the Marvel Universe but, at first, he is oddly resistant to it.  He’d rather recommend you one of his own favorite hero movies.  If you disagree on which is better, he is more than willing to fight with you over why his is best!

After a heated argument, he puts on some of the movies to watch so he can come up with targeted points about why his own shows are better.  This does not work out for him as he gets sucked in himself.  Next time you meet up, he wants to go over tiny bits of lore and speculate on future plot lines from hints in the past movies.

You might think his favorite would be Iron Man because they both are innovative engineers, but he is a fan of Ant Man.  Shrinking down to a size where you can hide from everyone; it’s an introvert’s dream!

Prefect, this is serious business!  I’ve drawn up plans.  So long as we sleep only 2 hours a day and avoid taking any breaks for food, studying, and showers, we can finish at least three seasons this weekend.  True fans like us need to be ready to sacrifice for the shows we love!

There are many things Tusnotarou doesn’t understand, and this is one of them.  For starters, he barely knows how to use his smartphone, let alone how to stream movies and shows.  So, before you can even start explaining the plot, you must explain the whole concept of series and interconnecting shows to him.

He doesn’t get it, but he is happy to watch with you.  Your reactions to the show are far more amusing to him than the actual show.  Plus, he feels like he learns so much about the human world from your conversations.  A subway, how intriguing an idea.  Humans are so fascinating.

Even though he watches politely, he isn’t very impressed.  They can fly?  Well so can he.  Magic, lightning, superstrength?  All just part of being a dragon.  Perhaps instead of being interested in these superheroes, you’d rather learn more about him?

 Lilia, do you think I am a superhero?  The Prefect has been explaining this concept to me in great detail lately.  I can’t help but notice the many things I have in common with these so-called heroes.  Why yes, Lilia, now that you mention it, I am wearing a cape.  Another point in my favor. Fu fu fu.    

[letsquestjess]

Books and Roses - Part 1 (Hunter x GN!Reader)

Summary: A usual day at your job in the library turns into a fateful meeting with Pabu's newest resident.

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: None.

A/N: This one absolutely ran away with me but I finally got it finished. I'm not sure when it will be posted, but I plan on doing a part 2.

-- -- -- -- --

Singing softly to yourself, you cautiously ascended the stepladder and arranged the books in your arms, sliding another into its home on the shelves and rearranging the ones that had been misplaced. Many of the mid-afternoon patrons stopped and smiled to greet you as they searched for their next read. A few lingered, chatting away about the delightful weather and asking if there had been any new arrivals they might like. 

An excited hum of conversation echoed from the far bench as a group of schoolchildren eagerly discussed their work. Their whispered chatter grew into a rumble of voices clamouring to be heard until the head librarian hushed them with stern warnings about the library’s rules. Some of them stifled their snickers, but the others extended their apologies and promised to be quiet. 

Months ago, you had suggested allocating specific hours after school for those studying for exams and projects so that they could exchange ideas and work together without worrying about the noise, but your boss dismissed the idea with an irritated scoff. “Libraries are houses of silence and order,” he had asserted. “They will learn that or find some place else to study.” No matter how hard you tried to make your case afterwards, he remained unmoved and bluntly told you to not bring the subject up again. 

With your arms empty, you climbed down the ladders and scooped another set of returns from the tray. You flicked through them as the doors squeaked open, and you spared a brief glimpse at the man stepping in. He adjusted his crimson bandana, tucking the stray midnight strands from in front of his face, and scoured the library. Like a whirlwind, a blonde girl from the group of school students flew to him and clung to his waist. He chuckled and ruffled her short hair. 

They whispered in muffled voices before she pointed in your direction and walked towards you. As they got closer, you realised he was one of the clones who had recently settled on the island with his siblings. You had noticed them a few times in town, but you never managed to summon enough courage to appease your curiosity by speaking to them. 

“Anything you need help with?” you asked, welcoming them with a smile. 

“Omega is looking for some books on Pabu folklore,” the man replied. “We were wondering if you could tell us where they are.” 

“I’ll do better than that, I’ll show you.” With a wave of your hand, you invited them to join you as you walked to the back of the building, through the wedges of sunlight gleaming in from the gardens outside and past the wall of bulletins advertising local businesses and upcoming events. “Folklore is my speciality,” you told them, “so if you’re looking for anything specific, I can point you in the right direction.” 

“Oh, stuff with sea monsters,” Omega said. “And magical birds.” 

You meandered the aisles dedicated to the island’s myths and paused at a sapphire-bound volume, its cover adorned with bronze foil ripples and faded, swirling clouds. “This one contains a collection of stories about the water and air elementals. You know the pillars out by the docks?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It is believed that a sea king built his palace on the top of them. It stretched all the way out to ocean, almost touching the horizon, but it was destroyed by a giant bird after he nearly shot it down.” 

The girl listened captivated, and you retrieved more books. All the while, her guardian followed, his smile pushing at the crinkles by his eyes as you shared your stories and piled up the reading material.  

Once she had as many as she could carry, you led them back to the desk. “I’ll add a couple of extra weeks onto them so you can enjoy them without having to rush.” 

“That’s kind of you,” the man said. 

“No problem, um…” You racked your brain trying to remember if he had introduced himself, but he quickly spared you from your dilemma. 

“Hunter.”

He extended his hand to you and you shook it, introducing yourself. “You moved here recently with your family, right? How are you finding it?” 

“It’s… different.” 

“A good different, I hope.” Scanning the last book into the system, you typed in the extra data and handed it to Omega. “You’ll have to let me know what you think once you’ve finished them.” 

“I will,” she promised. “Thank you for helping me.” 

With a friendly wave, she hurried to the door with her brother trailing behind her, urging her to slow and taking on the burden of some of the books she was carrying. 

* * *

Your day began as usual. You arrived, stored your belongings in the staff room locker and got to work organising the extensive stack of returns and finding spots for the new arrivals. A few sparked your interest, and you decided to take a look at them during your lunch break. 

Not long after the afternoon regulars, the local students shuffled in and settled at the far desks. Glum faces stared at notepads and flipped through their assignments. Another librarian offered her assistance, and the confused expressions gradually turned into ones of understanding. 

The bell on the countertop chimed. “Omega,” you said to the girl patiently waiting for your attention. “How can I help you?” 

“I finished the books,” she declared, hoisting the hefty pile and setting them onto the desk with a muted thud. 

“I see someone is an avid reader,” you said, surprised. “You’ve only had them a week.”

“They’re really interesting. Especially the one with the wizard and glass dragon.” 

“Ah, if it’s magic you like there is a brilliant story about a woman who harnessed the power of an ancient cave to bring back the sun after it disappeared.” 

“What happened?” she asked. 

The weight of the returned texts in your arms brought back a flood of memories as you began to recount the wondrous legends you had absorbed as a child. Tales of sparkling, celestial-born creatures, and renowned figures who formed the island. Magic spilled from your words and Omega clung to them, occasionally helping you by handing you books to place on the topmost shelves while you balanced on the stepladders. Before long, you had checked in and replaced all the returns and you were nowhere near done with your stories. 

As the door hinges let out a protesting groan, Hunter strolled in and spotted you both talking, Omega perched on the reception desk sipping on a fruit juice carton and you with a steaming cup of caf in your hands. 

“Hunter,” she called, waving him over. “There’s a cave close by that has magic in it. Can we check it out?” 

“I suppose, if it’s safe to get there,” Hunter replied, glancing at you questioningly. 

“It’s not that far along the coast and it’s perfectly safe,” you assured him. “It gets fairly cool in there in the warmer months, so people stick close to it when they go to the beach.”

Hunter noticed a fresh selection of tales by Omega, almost as tall as the last lot. “You’ve made quite the impression,” he said to you as his sister hopped down from the countertop and bundled the volumes into her backpack.

“Any chance I get to talk about the folklore of this place, I’ll take it,” you chuckled.

“Perhaps you might tell me about them sometime.”

Heat crept into your cheeks at the sincerity in his tone and you stared at the warm tendrils escaping your mug. “Well, you know where to find me.”

His gaze lingered on yours before he shifted to Omega. “Come on, little adventurer,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”

* * *

You exhaled a breath of relief as you sank into the plush cushion of the desk chair, feeling the pressure of another overburdened morning lift off your aching feet. The past few weeks had been a monotonous slog of reorganising, double-checking and triple-checking systems until you could recite the lists in your sleep. But now it was completed. Catalogued. Authorised. Done. 

Hunter’s regular visits had made the workload a little more bearable. He had taken to showing up earlier to catch you on your break, asking about the myths and legends of Pabu before conversation and curiosity prompted him to ask you about yourself. During the hours you’d spent either cooped up in a private corner of the library or basking in the sun on the bench outside, he’d told you about his own past and his brothers. 

As the weeks proceeded and your meetings became a daily occurrence, you felt the stirrings of admiration. You noticed how the faded detail on his facial tattoo crinkled when he smiled, the faint highlights in his hair that drank the sunlight and deepened the midnight shades, the rhythmic tap of his fingers when he got lost in contemplation. And the way that his eyes brushed across your face when he thought you weren’t looking. You’d caught his reflection many times in the window, captivated like a stargazer enthralled by the night sky in the seconds before he regained his composure. 

But you silenced the hopeful whispers of your heart. He’s probably grateful for the non-judgmental attention you give him, you thought to yourself, struggling to ignore the pondering in your mind that asked if he shared your feelings. 

“Working hard as always,” a low, jovial voice said, tenderly pulling you from your daydreams.

You swivelled in the chair and pushed yourself up, checking the chronometer on the computer screen. “I didn’t realise it was that time. Did you want to sit outside today?”

“Sure. But before we do.” 

He slowly withdrew his hands from behind his back and a fresh floral perfume drifted from the basket of lilac and gold roses he placed on the counter. “For you,” he clarified at the puzzled lift of your eyebrows. “I saw these, and they reminded me of the story you told me about the purple sea and the warriors who turned the droplets into petals at sunrise, and I thought that maybe you’d… Sorry, I’m rambling. Maker, it’s usually Tech doing that.” He attempted to stifle his anxiety with a cough, but it only intensified his trembling, his mind racing, and his fingers running through his hair as he desperately sought to find the right words to say. 

“Thank you, Hunter,” you breathed, trying not to let your smile betray how endearing you found him when he was flustered. “I wasn’t expecting… you didn’t have to…” You paused and collected your thoughts. “They’re perfect.”

At a nearby table, Omega shifted her gaze away from her homework book, carefully watching your exchange before quickly looking back down when her brother caught her. 

“There’s a really nice cafe near the beach,” you said, running the pad of your thumb over a satiny petal. “They make their own pastries every morning and the caf is delicious. I’m planning on heading there for breakfast tomorrow before going for a walk along the coastline. You’re more than welcome to join me.” 

Hunter’s hand glided across the desk and grazed over yours on the side of the flower basket. His fingertips fluttering against your skin, he waited for you to pull away, to flinch or recoil, but you didn’t, and his adoring gaze met yours. “I would love to.” 

“Shall I meet you here in the morning and we can walk down together?” you asked, heart pounding and a tiny flame of hope burning inside you. 

With the slightest shuffle and the sweetest smile, he nodded. “It’s a date.”

TAGLIST (Message if you’d like to be added, 18+ only)

@skellymom

[souglias]

TWILIGHT - [Kaveh]

Both you and Kaveh work on your respective creative projects into the night. However, things don't go as smoothly as both of you wish.

Kaveh x gn!reader. Fluff.

Word count: 2.9k

c/w: alcohol consumption (on Kaveh's part), may be slightly self-indulgent

note: inspired by with my hand in yours (Kaveh's part) by @monocaelia , please go support her!!! Also, thank you sm to @dinoshimaaa for the beta mwah mwah

Dusk, Dawn, Twilight Masterlist

--

TWILIGHT in the wee hours speaks of a magical liminality that many miss. You are awake even before then, but you do not get to enjoy the serenity that such a quiet hour is supposed to bring. Instead, you are hunched over your easel with your final art assignment. It’s three in the morning, and the assignment is due at noon. You’ve barely slept the night before. Your third cup of coffee for the night is placed on the table beside you. An incomplete painting sits haphazardly on an easel by the table. Various paintbrushes sprawl all over the table. 

On the other side of the table, Kaveh pores over his architecture project, due for discussion with the client at the same hour as yours. His writing materials and tools are dumped atop one another on his side of the table. Instead of a cup of coffee on the table, he has a small cup of alcohol on the empty stool beside him. 

You tell him that it is counterproductive to drink alcohol for all-nighters because it makes him sleepy, especially since he’s a lightweight. But he protests that a small cup helps keep him loose. You don’t try to refute that, knowing that some classmates of yours do that.

Upbeat music plays in the background. Absent-mindedly, you tap your foot according to its beat. You wish you could turn the volume up higher. The higher the volume, the more sane it’ll keep you. However, that would lead to angry neighbours and you have no time to deal with such trouble.

As for Kaveh, he pays no mind to the music. His eyes are kept trained on his workspace, not even minding the beetle that crawls past his wine cup. His hands move as if they have minds of their own, moving his feathered pen gracefully. 

You’re kind of envious of him.

Kaveh knows what he’s doing. He knows what he wants. All the steps are already laid out in his head and they only need to be materialised on paper. You think he’s just a little careless, failing to set aside sufficient time to work on his project at a comfortable pace. 

With his eyebrows furrowed, he reaches out to his wine cup and takes a gulp. You’re pretty sure his cup isn’t gonna last the night and he’s going to head to the kitchen for a refill. It’s going to become multiple ‘small cups’. But seeing how focused he is, you don’t wish to break his concentration with any brief teasing.

The world around Kaveh is blurred out, his focus only zeroes in on the project in front of him. He stays this way for a long time until you let out an exasperated shout. Thank the Archons that both of you decided against working in Al Haitham’s home. 

His home would have been ideal with its proximity to the Akademiya. However, Al Haitham would go ballistic with the music. The last straw would probably be one of your (or possibly even Kaveh’s) eventual exasperated yells. 

Your head abruptly turns and you find Kaveh looking at you. “Oh shit, I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

Kaveh shakes his head and smiles instead. “Hit a roadblock? You can talk to me about it.”

“You sure?”

Kaveh nods. “I’d listen to you any day.”

Your eyes dart around your workspace, unsure where to start, as you turn your body towards him. After mulling over the question for a while, you start, “First off, my references don’t seem to be working very well? I took photographs for my references, but I only realised not long ago that the angles are all off. So I don’t know if this-” you pause to gesture at your painting, “is accurate.”

“Then, we have the issue of the paint. I can’t seem to get the colour I want! I spend so much time mixing the paint. If I could figure out the portion of colours I need to mix right off the bat, I could have saved so much time. Archons, I don’t know if I can finish.”

After throwing a glance at your painting, you start swearing. “Archons, what the fuck is this? What the fuck am I doing?”

Kaveh scrutinises your painting. Some parts of the canvas have been covered with paint while the parts unpainted only have draft lines. However, he still manages to discern two people near a window. One in the house with their back facing the viewer, the other on the other side of the window. Outside the window, the subject situated there has his body facing the one inside. However, Kaveh notices that his body is slightly turned away as if the subject is going away eventually. He guesses that a beautiful sea of stars expands out behind them, but there is still a large focus on the two people looking at each other. 

“Want to share what your assignment is about? Talking about it might help.”

You start fiddling with your paintbrush. 

“Our assignment was to create a painting and use it to convey a message to someone. It could be any message to anyone. Some wanted to make paintings to tell the upper echelons of the Akademiya about how insane the workload was. A few others wanted to advocate to just about everyone about our ever-warming climate…”

Your voice trails off and your eyes dart away from Kaveh. He raises an eyebrow at you and asks. “So, what’s the message you want to send and who are you sending it to?”

“It’s about the distance between… someone and I.”

Kaveh slightly leans towards you without realising. “Who might that be…?”

When you make eye contact with him again, you catch the intensity in his gaze and try not to flinch in your stool. The air becomes slightly charged and you hurriedly scoff to dissipate the tension, “Well, that’s not for you to know.”

You stick your tongue out at him and you turn away from him to face your canvas again. 

The urge to ask you who in the world this person consumes Kaveh. Who is it that has troubled you so much, that you have to make a painting for them to express yourself? 

He plays with the thought of this person being him. It feels slightly dangerous as if he’s walking a tightrope. Even this mere thought feels forbidden.

However, Kaveh cannot seem to disregard the little things that occurred between the two of you. The times both of you shared a drink with the same cup. The moments of accidental grazes of his skin on yours that cause him to flinch. The way you always listened to him talk about his designs, even if there were things you were not too familiar with. Kaveh cannot forget how his heart soars whenever you praise his design. 

On top of that, you always pick him up from the Tavern whenever he is too drunk to go home by himself. Without fail or complaint, you always come if Lambad sends someone looking for you.

Though, Kaveh would say that the two of you have been long-time good friends. There are some things that no longer matter when the two of you have been such good friends. 

Watching your back, he suppresses his desire to know. Kaveh isn’t ready to hear the name of the person you’ve been looking at. If he does, he thinks he’ll lose all the rights to relish the moments solely between the two of you. And what if he ruins the friendship between the two of you?

Kaveh takes a deep breath. He reaches out for his cup to take a sip of wine, but he realises that he’s empty. After making a quick refill, he dives back into his project. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed before he hears a sudden thud from your side. You’re standing up in front of your canvas with your stool toppled over behind you. Without turning to him, you say, “I’m going out.”

Kaveh’s grip on his pen loosens. He glances at your unfinished painting. In that one glance, he sees that you’ve added details, but he can tell it’s not done yet. Then, he checks the time. A little over 5.30 am. You’re already halfway out of the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll just be outside. I… need a breather.”

Kaveh watches you close the door without waiting for his reply. It is pretty normal for designers and artists like both of you to get overwhelmed. Space is a common need for creative minds. Perhaps that is all that you need, so he should let you be. However, Kaveh doesn’t feel at ease leaving you alone. It takes a few moments for Kaveh to navigate through his dilemma for him to decide to follow you.

When Kaveh finds you sitting on the porch, he heaves a silent sigh of relief. You’re gazing up at the navy blue sky. His eyes follow your gaze and he makes out a few blinking stars. 

Kaveh sits down beside you, not uttering a word. There’s only the sound of animals in the distant forest in the space between both of you until you break the silence.

“You know, I’ve never understood why people cry when they see art they admire so much. Maybe everyone has their reasons, but I think I finally found mine. Some of my classmates were sharing their mostly completed artworks. One of theirs made me want to cry.”

Kaveh keeps his eyes on you, noticing your lip quivering. You turn away from him when you continue speaking.

“It was so beautiful. So beautiful and I found myself fighting against tears. That artwork encapsulated everything I wanted to make. How? How does he make it so mesmerising? And why… Why can’t I do that? Why do I always have to come to despise my own work?”

Such feelings were not foreign to Kaveh. As a fellow creative, he knew you would feel this inevitable pain. Yet it makes his heart throb when he sees you doubt yourself.

“[name], look at me.”

You don’t move, keeping your body turned away from him. Oh, how you vex him.

Kaveh cups your cheeks with both his hands and he gently turns your head towards him. He watches a few tears roll down your cheeks and this sight claws at his chest.

“[name], I haven’t seen any of your friends’ works and I know you won’t believe me if I say your work is good. But from the bottom of my heart, the idea of making your painting a message for your… certain someone is wonderfully romantic.”

His voice becomes louder. His hands have started squishing your cheeks, yet his touch remains tender. “In the end, even if you feel like your painting hasn’t gone the way you wanted it to, I know your feelings will reach them. Sometimes my designs don’t turn out the ideal way I want them, but that’s okay. We’ll always nitpick on our work because we care about our craft. Your ideas are already amazing, so even if you hate the final product, take this as a step towards making better art.”

He inhales, not registering what he’s about to say. “And I like you! I don’t just like anyone out there, they should be artistic and creative! They should be brave to try new things too. So, you’re creative and artistic! And yes, you are brave to try new things too. You’ve never seriously dabbled in the arts before, and this is the first time the Akademiya is running classes for art. Enrolling into the Akademiya again for art is a huge leap of faith you’re taking!”

At this point, Kaveh’s ruby eyes are shining against the now violet sky. You see the stars you were looking at earlier in his eyes. “You’re not just anyone. You’re [name], the person I like! Do you understand?”

Kaveh watches as your face slowly turns red. You recall the countless moments he’s helped you to tide through your art assignments. The times the both of you spent together as a result of these art assignments and his client work. Of course, you caught feelings for him at some point, but you always thought you’d have to give him up someday and learn to cope on your own. The thought of having to go on without him haunts you like a ghost for countless days. Its presence looms heavily behind you on the long nights you have to finish your work alone. 

But with his slender and soft hands that hold your face, it’s as if he’s protectively encapsulating your weary soul within those two hands. The grasp of this presence on you loosens. Leaning into his touch, you mumble, “Kaveh, what will I do without you?”

When he notices you tear up again, the first thing he thinks is that he might have said something wrong. He tries to recall what he said, navigating through his hazy mind. When he realises that he’s confessed to you, all the lethargy leaves his body and more heat rushes into his face. He also becomes hyper-aware of the distance between your faces and his hands on your cheeks. 

Apologies come tumbling off his lips as he pulls himself back, “Oh no Archons, [name]. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to say that while you’re in a stressful-”

Kaveh notices the ink smudges he left on your cheek and more apologies come your way. “The smudges on your cheek! Oh shit, I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s alright,” a tender smile plays on your lips and a giggle escapes your lips, despite a tear that falls from your eyes. Your heart flutters thinking about your next words for the flustered architect. You take a deep breath to calm your hammering heart.

You confess, “The painting is meant as a message for you. I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you properly after it was completed.”

Kaveh’s jaw drops, your words replaying in his mind. 

“Me…?”

A chuckle, music to his ears, escapes from your lips, “Yes, you. Renowned architect, Light of the Kshahrewar, Kaveh.”

“Holy Archons, I-”

Kaveh clasps his hand over his mouth and abruptly turns away from you. He recalls your painting in its most recent state earlier. There was one minute detail that didn’t escape him. The person in the house had been reaching onto the windowsill. 

You have been trying to reach him all along, and you didn’t know if he’d leave for a faraway glorious place.

Kaveh feels a lump in his throat, but he suppresses it and he faces you again. “It’s- I’m honoured to be the recipient of your message. I hope that you’ll be happy with me- No, I will make you happy, [name]. I won’t leave you.”

You reach out and brush a stray tear on his cheek away. The dried acrylic paint on your fingers does not stain his cheek, but you selfishly wished it did. It would have been your mark on him. Just like how he has left his mark on you.

An idea hits you, and you rub your finger against the spots where Kaveh’s fingertips touched your cheek earlier. You find some ink on your fingertips and you smear them on his cheek.

Smiling at your work, you say, “And I will make you happy too, my muse.” 

A soft smile appears on Kaveh’s lips and you wish you could capture him in this moment with the coming sunrise behind him. However, realising what time it may be, you straighten the feather in his hair and suggest, “Okay… I think we should finish our work and we will talk more after.”

Heading back into the house, both of you press on to finish up your respective tasks till this twilight passes and after. It’s not until after you’ve submitted your work that you feel fatigue kick in. 

You meet Kaveh near the location where he’s meeting his client. The meeting goes smoothly and quickly, it’s not long before you find his hands intertwined with yours. The sunlight feels unbearably harsh after the restless nights, so the two of you can’t wait to head into your cool homes to rest.

However, an immeasurable pull between the two of you makes the thought of going home without each other unbearable. 

“Say, could I crash at your place instead, since it’s nearer…? Would Al Haitham mind?”

Kaveh could care less about Al Haitham. Plus, he thinks the both of you will awaken before Al Haitham returns. Hooking his arm around yours, he proclaims, “Of course! Who cares about Al Haitham?” 

Both of you head to his house and settle on the sofa. With a heart filled with love, you drift off to sleep and you dream. You have not dreamt for a long time, but now, you dream of a confession that both morning and night have witnessed.

(When Al Haitham returns, he finds the both of you asleep on the sofa. Your head rests on Kaveh’s shoulder and his head leans on yours. His hands rest protectively atop yours. Al Haitham lets out an inaudible chuckle, finding relief in no longer needing to listen to Kaveh complain about his hopeless situation with you.)

--

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed this! All likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[gay-dorito-dust]

Idea by @thingy-mar (idk if this is what you wanted.)

Bring me a dream

“You don’t…remember your dreams?” Morpheus asked of you one day, his curiousness peaked when you relied this piece of information to him in a moment of security. “No, I don’t, try as I might but there’s nothing tangible for me to grasp ahold of to relay in my waking life.” The lord of dreams and nightmares didn’t speak, only listening to your every word intently, “Whether it’s be a horrific nightmare or the most beautiful dream…I can’t remember any of it even if I awake in tears.”

You looked over at him, feeling a little downcast at the thought of lacking the ability to relive your dream through verbal methods as brief flashbacks blare at the forefront of your mind like a miniature movie of sorts that only you could bare witness to. It must be nice to relive the best parts and fear the worst that came with dreaming; you knew you weren’t the only one who couldn’t remember their dreams nor nightmares but yet you couldn’t help feeling as though you were missing out on something truly spectacular.

Morpheus thought for a moment before speaking, “I could help you remember.” He offered offhandedly as though he was lending you aid in finding a lost cat or misplaced rucksack. To this, you were quick to decline, “oh I couldn’t ask that of you, after all my dreams aren’t probably all that worth remembering if I can’t recall even the slightest of details.” Not that you would admit aloud but you were certain that this was Morpheus’ way of opening up to you and gaining your trust by offering up his services he’d deem fit for your situation. It was sweet and all but you were being serious when you told him that it probably wasn’t all that intriguing if you couldn’t remember even a lick of it.

Besides he’s probably already seen them and didn’t think much of them and this was more out of pity as to quiet your restless thoughts. “Morpheus?” You called out to him when you noticed that the man has stopped walking to stare into the side of your head with his dead set gaze that would be enough to put anyone on edge. “Your dreams are what artisans could ever hope to achieve in a lifetime; they are the muses of the greatest authors and poets of human history as they write volume after volume, sonnet after sonnet, rendition after rendition in hopes to even capture a mere fraction of their true beauty.” Morpheus told you as he reached for your hand, “your nightmares strike emotions within me that make me feel the need to protect you,” he scoffs, “however if I recall our first encounter as clearly as you do, then protection the last thing you’d need.”

You chuckled, reminiscing the moment you met the darkly clothed lord after misinterpreting him as a creep stalking you. You chuckled even harder when remembering how profusely you apologised to him after clearing the air between the two of you. “You still have the scar? Or have you healed that entirely?” Morpheus instinctually reached a hand towards the strands of hair that concealed his hairline fondly. “Though the scar may have healed, the memory remains like one.”

“I’m sorry.” You said meekly, easing up when the male merely shrugged in a silent notion that bygones were bygones, causing a sense of relief to relive the tension within your shoulders. “My offer still stands, I can make you remember your dreams if you so wish to behold their beauty firsthand.” Morpheus states after a brief moment of silence. If there was one thing you’ve come to notice about Morpheus it was how tenacious he is when he willed himself to be. It was admirable in the best of moments but a nuisance in the worst. “I’d prefer if I viewed them through your point of view, you make them come across as quite mystical.” You jested lightheartedly.

“That’s because they are.” Morpheus replied as though it was obvious. As though it was law and it made you flattered to know that the lord of where dreams and nightmares thrived seemed to take interests in yours the most out of the millions he’s seen. “Allow me to show you.” He said as he pulled out his pouch of sand, pinching it between his fingers as he blew it gently into your face, causing you to fall into a slumbering state.

Tag list: @mess-in-side

[nicoline1998enilocin]

School trip

PAIRING | Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.3K

SUMMARY | Luca is going on a trip with his school, and you're chosen to come as one of the chaperones. Bucky is very pleased about this, and finds it hard to move from your side and keep an eye on the kids like he's supposed to. When you accidentally hurt yourself, he won't move from your side until you're doing better.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Smut [ Masturbation, oral (F receiving) use of vibrator, daddy kink ], a broken ankle.

A/N | This one shot is part of my Teachers Universe AU, but can be read as part of the story, or a standalone one shot! 🖤

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AU Masterlist

''MOM, MOM, MOOOOOM!'' Luca was trying to get your attention, but you were on a phone call, so you held up a finger to let him know you'd listen to him shortly. ''Okay, thank you very much. Bye,'' you said as you hung up the phone. ''Bubba, I get that you're excited, and that is perfectly fine, but when I'm on the phone you have to be quiet. You know the rules by now,'' you told him, and he looked very sorry. ''Sorry Mom,'' he said, his bottom lip started quivering a little bit. ''It's okay bubs, come here!'' you say as you pull him onto your lap and you give him a big mama bear hug. ''What is it that you wanted to tell me?'' you ask and he hands you a form, telling you about an upcoming school trip to the aquarium with all 6th, 7th, and 8th graders. ''Ah, I get why you're excited! Let me see when it is, and I will see if I can get the day off to come too, how about that?'' you ask him and he bounces excitedly up and down.

''You can go play until dinner time, and after I can figure out more about this trip. Right now I have to make sure we have a dinner to eat!'' you laugh and send him to his bedroom. ''I love you, Mom!'' he says on his way to his bedroom. ''I love you too, bubs!'' you yell after him and you walk to the fridge, getting all the ingredients to make your 'famous' mac and cheese. You always made too much of it, so there was more than enough to share with your neighbor Anna, who was always very thankful when you saved her some. You turn on some music at a low volume so you can still hear Luca in case he needs something, and you start cooking. You treat yourself to a glass of wine too, and you realize you're enjoying the life you have now.

You're going to school to become a veterinary assistant, you're working as one as well, and your son is having the time of his life here in New York. Everything seems to fall into place now, and you're grateful. There will always be rough nights when you sit on your fire escape and just let go for a bit, letting the tears fall you're always holding in. Sometimes you need to let go and let your anxieties out, but those nights are getting further and further apart. If there's one thing you're specifically grateful for, it's your beautiful son. He's the reason you keep going every single day, and it feels so good to make him proud because you're always proud of him too.

When your mac and cheese is almost done, you put it in the oven to finish it off, and you set the table. Usually, this is something Luca does, but he was playing so peacefully that you decided to let him be for now. When the oven timer goes off you take the dish out and place it on the table before getting Luca. You walk into his bedroom and kneel next to him. ''Are you ready for dinner, bubs? I made mac and cheese tonight, so after dinner, you can bring some to Anna if you want,'' and he immediately jumped up. ''Yes, I would love to bring some to Anna after dinner!'' he ran to the dining room table where he quickly sat his butt down on his chair, waiting for you to scoop some of the food on his plate.

During dinner, the two of you talk about the upcoming school trip, and Luca is extremely excited, he can't wait to go to the aquarium. It has always been one of his favorite places to go when he still lived in Sacramento, so he was already extremely excited. I have good news for you, bubs! I already asked Junior's mom if I can have the day off to go on the school trip with you, and she said yes. So I can come with you to the aquarium!'' you said and he practically jumped out of his chair, giving you a big hug. ''But first, you have to bring some of the mac and cheese to Anna!'' you say handing him the Tupperware you put it in. He runs to the door and goes to your neighbor's door, you lean against the doorframe and give her a big smile when she gladly takes the food. ''Thank you again, Y/N,'' she says. ''You're welcome, Anna,''.

When Luca is watching some cartoons on the TV before bedtime, you fill in the form for the school trip, so he can hand it in tomorrow, together with the fee he has to pay to go. You put it all in an envelope and put it in his backpack, so you won't forget it. When it is time for bed, Luca is already in a deep sleep for a few hours, and you slip under the covers, and there is only one thing - or rather, one person - on your mind. Bucky Barnes. You decide to let yourself indulge in your fantasies and grab your vibrator out of your nightstand. You turn it to your preferred setting and first rub it along your clit, before slowly working it into your entrance. All while thinking about Bucky.

''Mmh, you taste so sweet, doll. You're such a good girl for me,'' Bucky says in between the stripes he's licking from your entrance up to your clit. ''Feels so good Daddy,'' you moan and this makes Bucky even harder than he already was. ''Doing so good for daddy, making me so hard for you, doll,'' he growled, the vibrations pulsing through your entire body. He keeps his arms wrapped around your thighs when he starts licking and sucking your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. He moves lower and tongue fucks you right into your sweet spot inside you. When he starts to rub your clit with his vibranium arm, you shatter all around him. ''Oh fuck, Daddy, feels so good when I cum!'' you scream as he rides out your orgasm with his tongue. ''Fuck, can't wait to be deep inside this sweet cunt of yours,'' Bucky said before taking his underwear off and positioning himself in front of your entrance.

You turn your vibrator up one more notch and you come violently around your vibrator, trying to keep your moans muffled to not wake Luca. You've been fantasizing about Bucky more and more lately, but if the orgasms he gives you from just fantasizing about him are anything to go by, you can't wait to feel him deep inside you. These fantasies kept becoming more and more intense, and more frequent too. Little did you know, Bucky was having these same fantasies about you.

~ 2 weeks later ~

It is time for the school trip, and Luca is very excited to go, even wearing his special shirt with fish all over it. When the both of you arrive at school, he runs inside his classroom, excited to show his shirt. ''Good morning Mr. Barnes! Look at my shirt!'' he said enthusiastically and Bucky was very impressed. ''Oh wow, I wish my shirt was as cool as yours! You have the perfect shirt for today!'' he said while giving him a high five, making Luca beam up at him. ''You hear that Mom? My shirt is cool!'' ''Yeah, but I told you that this morning already, didn't I?'' you say with a smile. ''You can still go and play a little bit before we go, bubs. Go ahead so I can discuss something with Mr. Barnes!'' and off he went.

''I have a bit of a weird question to ask, but when you were at the vet clinic recently, Chay addressed you as Bucky. But your name is James, right?'' you asked wondering. It is something you've thought about often, and you just couldn't come up with an explanation for why she would call him that. ''It's okay, I get that one more often than you'd think. Well, my full name is James Buchanan Barnes, and Bucky is a nickname that stems from my middle name. I'm fine with either James or Bucky, although most friends call me Bucky,'' he explains with a hint of a smile. ''Oh, that makes perfect sense! I've been thinking about it ever since you came by and I didn't have the time to ask you until now,'' you explained. The two of you chatted some more until it was time to get all the children onto the bus and on their way to the aquarium.

''Can I sit with you, Mom?'' Luca asked, and you looked at Bucky to see if it was okay. ''As long as Mr. Barnes says it's okay, then it's fine with me, bubs!'' and he agrees, so you sit down next to Luca. You would catch up with him later, right now you were talking endlessly about different species of fish with Luca. Bucky can't help but smile at the way you're interacting with your son like he's an equal instead of a small child. ''Which ones are you most excited to see, Luca?'' Bucky asked, and he started a whole rant about clownfish and why they're his favorite, mostly stemming from the fact that Finding Nemo was his favorite movie growing up. Bucky listens with all his attention and it makes you swoon a little bit.

Not long after you arrive at the aquarium, but you're barely even inside before something goes wrong. You were talking to Bucky about your job as a veterinary assistant, and you missed a small set of stairs inside the aquarium. You roll your ankle, but before Bucky can catch you, you hear bones snap and you fall with a scream. ''Mommy, no!'' Luca screeches when he sees you fall and he immediately runs over to you to see if you're okay. Tears are streaming down your face and you're sobbing from the pain, not able to move your ankle at all. ''Shit, doll!'' Bucky hisses and he crouches by your side. ''Luca, your mom is hurt, so can you get Ms. Jones to get some help?'' he nods and quickly runs to get her.

Bucky wipes some tears from your face, softly whispering that it's going to be okay, and that help is on the way. ''Oh god, Y/N, what happened?!'' Ms. Jones said as soon as she was by your side. ''I- I missed a-a step...'' you say between sobs and Luca is plastered to your side again, holding your hand and holding back his tears. He always hates to see his mom upset, and this was even worse because you were in pain. ''Why were you being clumsy, Mom?'' he asked and it made you laugh a little bit. ''I'm always clumsy, you know that right?! But I was talking to Mr. Barnes and missed the steps,'' you explain. ''That is not nice of you, to let her fall like that! Now she's in pain!'' he says to Bucky, who can only agree. ''I know, and I'm sorry. But I will make it up to her by getting her to the hospital, okay?''

The rest of the kids and chaperones went on the trip through the aquarium, and Bucky picked you up bridal style which surprised you, especially how effortless it was for him to do it. You wrap your arms around his neck and Luca is walking with the both of you towards the entrance of the aquarium. ''I'm going to call an Uber to the hospital, so I'm going to put you down for just a minute, okay?'' he asked and you nodded, keeping your ankle still as he sets you down so you can lean against the wall. Luca uses this moment to wrap himself around you and hug you. ''I don't like it when you're in pain Mom, so I hope you will feel better soon,'' he says and it makes your heart melt. You kiss him on his head when he said it.

~ At the hospital ~

Once all three of you arrived in the hospital, they take you away for some X-rays, which show that your ankle is indeed broken, and will have to be in a cast for at least 6 weeks. ''What color shall I pick for the cast, Bubba?'' you ask Luca, who is very interested in everything they're doing. ''Green!'' he exclaims happily, it's his favorite color so this does not come as a surprise to you. ''So, you're gonna be part Hulk for the next few weeks, huh doll?'' Bucky laughs, but you blush when you hear the nickname he calls you. ''I guess so,'' you chuckle and when they're done, you get some crutches to keep yourself upright. ''Let me bring the both of you home, it's the last I can do after I made you fall down those steps!'' Bucky offered, but you didn't want to impose. ''It's okay, Bucky. We can do it, but thank you anyways. You were a great help,'' and when Luca wasn't looking, you softly kissed him on his cheek before hopping out the door.

Bucky put a hand over the cheek you just kissed, trying to hide the deep red color that he was sporting now. You didn't look around, but you were supporting that very same color on your face. ''Mom, can we have dino nuggets for dinner?'' Luca asks. ''Of course, bubs, especially after today!'' you say with a laugh before stepping into the Uber Bucky had ordered for the both of you. Both you and Luca waved at him when the car took off, and you couldn't hide the smile you were sporting. ''I love you Bubba, you took really good care of me today,'' and you gave him the biggest kiss you could on his cheek. ''Love you too, mom''.

[elvenxwarrior]

My Normie (Part One) - Leviathan

Masterlist

You can also find this posted on my AO3!

Part Two

Leviathan had only seen '[Name]' a few times over her stay in the Devildom. She never seemed to talk unless it was to Diavolo or Lucifer regarding important business and was very quiet in class but attentive.

But in the few times of seeing her, Leviathan thought she was beautiful.

"Probably a normie though..." He'd always think to himself.

Little did he know, that wasn't the case.

If he had ever stopped by to visit her room, he'd find a large Sucre Frenzy poster on her wall beside her desk and several Ruri-chan figures neatly littering the shelves where she kept her manga volumes and anime box sets. Assassination Classroom manga took up a whole shelf in her small bookcase whilst a second shelf was dedicated to her games and smaller, handheld consoles. As a centrepiece to the games shelf, a copy of Diabolik Lovers stood proud with a PlayStation Portable™ laid in front of it.

[Name] would usually be found in her room, either wearing her headphones to listen to anime openings and game soundtracks while reading or studying. Sometimes she'd be at her desk gaming; almost always in her oversized Ruri-chan hoodie.

Truth be told? [Name] felt the same way about the Envious Third-Born. As soon as she heard him talking about TSL and how he seemingly had an eidetic memory for it all, she was astounded.

She tapped her pen to her lips, deep in thought, "Would he want to meet me if anime was involved?"

————————————

[Name] Hey, Levi. Leviathan Hey [Name]. [Name] I got the new collectors edition of TSL, wanna come watch? Leviathan YOU WHAT? OMW NOW

————————————

No more than 15 minutes passed before there was a knock at your door.

"Come in!" You yelled, unable to tear yourself from writing your game's cheat-sheet and studying simultaneously.

"You said you had the New TSL Collector’s Editio-..."

Leviathan's words had gotten caught in his throat upon seeing your room.

'This is almost everything I like too...'

You saved and quit your game, sliding your cheat-sheet into a folder beside your monitor, "I do indeeeEEEEED."

You suddenly felt flustered, it only took you turning around and seeing who was in your room to lose your confidence. You hadn't seen his text saying he was coming!

"[N-Name], are you okay?" He asked at your sudden shock and the strange way you had given your response.

"I, uh... I didn't think you'd actually come..." Your voice trailed off quietly, a red hue taking over your face.

"You have the new Collector's Edition of TSL, of course I'm going to come! It's got deleted scenes and behind the scenes with animations, interviews with the English and Japanese voice actors, bloopers-"

Leviathan proceeded to rattle off all of the different features that this version had, evidently excited.

When he finally stopped, you gestured to your TV and games console, (gotta love how they double-up as DVD players!) "So... shall we?"

Levi nodded enthusiastically, following you to plonk down on the floor with all your pillows and blankets.

When you had turned around after putting the disc in, he saw your pastel pink hoodie was a Ruri-chan hoodie.

"WOAH- Where did you get that hoodie?!"

You looked down, pulling the oversized fabric out to look down at the design, "Uh... it was from an event-based prize draw; it was the 4th place prize, I think?"

"You made it into The Top 5?! Impressive! I was Number 1!"

It seemed the more you and the Envious Third Born would nerd out, the less shy you became and the less awkward the atmosphere was. You were both talking about TSL as each scene went along, discussing the plot, the characters alongside various other aspects.

You were sitting very close.

It wasn't until you were practically leaning your chest on his shoulder that you both realised how close you actually were. Clearing your throat you turned to sit normally.

"Uh... [Name]. You can... lean on me like that... if you want. It was... kinda comfy." Leviathan stuttered out, awkwardly pausing to think about his phrasing.

"Uh... sure!" You went back to lean on him and tried not to squeal. When he puts his arm around you, you let a small squeak slip out.

He hit the pause button on the controller, turning to you slightly, "Are... you okay?"

You nodded, unsure of what- no, unsure of how to say how you were feeling.

'Yeah Levi, I'm completely fine! Just trying not to die like a fangirl meeting her boyband crush at the fact you put your arm around and cuddled me. I'm in love with you!'

Leviathan leaned in slightly, staring intently into your eyes, "[Name]..."

"Le... Levi..."

You both felt like an anime protagonist reaching the peak of the plot where they finally confess to their love interest. Lord, how much more cliche can this night get?!

"[Name], can I..."

You tilted your head, "Can you...?"

You could feel your heart beating heavily against your chest; Levi could probably feel it. You moved forward, bringing your face closer to his, the brightness of the TV screen being your only light in the room.

"Kiss you?" / "Kiss me?"

A gasp escaped you both, before happily kissing him; the excitement of the situation caused you to knock him over, he was now leaning back on his forearms with a hand threaded into your hair and you on top of him.

You parted from the kiss, giggling sheepishly and pulled him back upright. "Sorry about that..."

"I-It's fine!" Levi was extremely flustered, "It was nice!"

There was an awkward silence...

"[Name]?" / "Levi?"

"You go first." / "You first."

You both laughed, "Count of three?" He nodded.

"One...

Two...

Three..."

"I like you!" Was the simultaneous statement. You pressed your head to his chest, smiling ear to ear.

"But... I thought you thought I was a normie?"

"Yeah, but [Name]... you're my normie."

[xalygatorx]

A Very Worthy Christmas 5: The Proposal

Christmassy bonus chapters for Worthy (posted a bit early because we're sneaking up on that time of year)!

All take place after the main story, so if you don't want spoilers, save these for a cozy, snowy day. x

Summary: Cora and Loki have Christmas Day with Thor, Jane, and little Erik. The bond begins to mend between brothers. Loki saves his most pressing gift for Cora (and perhaps the most daunting task he's ever chosen to tackle) for last.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!OC

Warnings: Makeout-levels of spice.

Word Count: 5.4k

Cora and Jane baked late into the night and Jane ended up teaching Cora how to make those delectable lemon cookies, herself, which was a better gift than any-sized box of them—although Cora certainly wouldn't dispute gifts of that nature either. When Thor had begun to doze at the breakfast bar despite trying to listen to their conversations and watch their methods, Cora had shown him where the guest room was, off the living room. Before he turned in, he set up Erik's port-a-crib but left it to Jane to remove the baby from his uncle's arms whenever she decided to turn in.

"Last batch," Jane said as she slid the tray in the oven, a mound of sugary yellow cookies stacked up on a plate next to the stove.

"Good, we're running out of plate space," Cora remarked as she wedged a spatula gently beneath the latest batch, scooping them onto a new platter so they didn't have a cookie avalanche if one of them breathed wrong. "Thanks for going to all the trouble. And also thanks for coming to celebrate with us." She dropped the volume of her voice slightly after glancing toward the couch to be sure Loki was still asleep. "I know it may not seem like it, but it means a lot to him."

"It means a lot to Thor, too," Jane confided softly, taking one of the cookies to nibble on and tearing off an edge before popping it into her mouth. "A lot. It's just frustrating because I don't know how to help."

"I know what you mean," Cora agreed, taking a bite of a cookie as well and letting it melt in her mouth before continuing. "I try at every turn and it's getting easier, but… It's hard because I really want to help, but at the same time, I have to back off because it's ultimately none of my business."

Jane nodded knowingly before sighing. "I think they're doing better though. Don't you?"

Cora nodded back. "I think so. I hope so." The two women shared a glance for a moment before cleaning up the kitchen and packing away the cookies for the morning, making minimal noise and managing to work around each other with surprising synchronicity.

When they'd finished, the two ventured into the living room and stood near the couch with slightly uncertain expressions. "Does he take well to be woken up?" Jane asked warily.

"Mm, not…terribly…," Cora murmured before unhelpfully suggesting, "Poke him and step back really fast."

"I don't want to poke him, you poke him!"

"There's no penalty if he throws me on the floor, if he does it to you, he has Thor to worry about, he'll stop if it's you," Cora pointed out.

"I don't want to get thrown on the floor though, you're part Asgardian and you're bigger than me, it'll hurt you less."

Cora squinted slightly. "What are you trying to say?"

"She is saying you are an oaf like my brother and neither of you are very quiet," came a grumble from the couch. Both Cora and Jane looked down at Loki, whose tired eyes were angled up at them with faint traces of exasperation.

Jane smiled embarrassedly and approached to retrieve her son now that the conundrum of waking up the god on the sofa was no longer of issue. Loki released the boy and Jane managed to hoist him up without waking him, whispering, "Thank you for watching him. Goodnight, you two."

"Goodnight," Cora replied, looking down as Loki turned over and buried his face against one of the throw pillows. She leaned down and murmured in his ear, "If you don't go get in bed, Santa won't come."

"If anything comes down that chimney, I shall smite it," came his muffled reply and Cora couldn't help but laugh. He glanced up at her woefully and suggested, "Carry me."

"I could try," Cora laughed, not sure how strong she actually was.

"Don't bother. You'll maim yourself before the Yuletide dawn and what kind of festive event would that be," he mused, though a faint smirk did tug at his mouth. He slowly, stiffly rose and stretched, glancing toward the kitchen. "Those smell wonderful."

"We'll dig into them in the morning," she said, steering him toward the staircase. Cora had decided quite some time ago that Loki was cutest and most compliant when he was tired, which was rather strange. Immediately upon waking, he tended to be a grump and a grump with a vengeance if his waking wasn't absolutely necessary. However, there was that in-between halfway past waking and before falling back to sleep in which he had his guard down. At least, with her, that was the case.

Loki followed along behind her on the stairs for a few steps before she felt him take her waist and scoop her into his arms, sleepily kissing her cheek and nuzzling her neck as he climbed the rest of the way. Cora smiled and went along for the ride, laughing when he all but fell on her when he put them both in bed. "Are you happy?" she asked quietly as he settled in, his arms around her after he'd tugged the comforter and blankets up over them.

He opened his eyes and looked at her thoughtfully through a sleep-fogged gaze, soon giving one slow and uncertain nod. And then another one that was more sure. "I believe I am."

Cora smiled and kissed his forehead gently as she felt him exhale and begin to fall back to sleep. "I'm glad," she whispered gently when she knew he was gone again.

"This is a terrible story, I thought you said this was happy!" Thor said with some dismay, sitting on the floor with Erik leaning against one of his legs, transfixed on the claymation Rudolph, the Red-Nose Reindeer special playing on the TV, one of Jane's favorites from when she was young.

"It's not terrible, it's a classic!" Jane protested as she leaned out of the kitchen, Cora turning over pieces of French toast in a skillet in the kitchen and listening to the exchange with an amused expression. "How is it terrible?"

"How is it not?" Loki supplied, watching as Erik discovered he could blow spit bubbles and giggled at his own antics. "I do not mind so much though."

"I mind, they are being so cruel to him," Thor complained, tousling his son's hair.

"He gets his moment to shine later, it's not all bad," Jane soothed exasperatedly as the Abominable Snow Monster made his first appearance in the film.

Cora glanced over as the film played, listening to the narrator say the familiar lines ominously, "He's mean, he's nasty! And he hates everything to do with Christmas!" She looked at Loki through the doorway and she teased, "Oh, hey, look! It's you!"

Loki rolled his eyes at her as she mimed being a snow-monster, soon returning to the toast so it didn't burn. "Laugh it up, you will not be when I stomp through your presents."

"Well, blast your hairy Bumble hide!" she claimed as she brought Thor and Loki heaping plates of French toast, handing one to Jane when she came back from getting Erik's cereal. Thor chuckled at the banter as he shoveled the sugary treat into his mouth, making a brief sound of approval between forkfuls.

They continued to watch the movie while Cora cleaned up the kitchen (again). Loki was dismayed when the Abominable got his teeth pulled and just as he glanced over toward Cora in the kitchen, she paused and snapped the tongs she was about to put in the dishwasher twice with silent, comical threat. He just squinted at her and went back to watching the film, only to complain at the end when Rudolph helped Santa and all the "intolerant, brainless heathen deer who had mocked him for years prior." Cora couldn't say she disagreed. It was a pretty unfair deal and she wasn't sure she would've been so eager to help them either.

"Everyone full?"

"Definitely," Jane said with a contented sigh. "Thank you."

Cora smiled. "No problem. Want to do presents?"

"Sure," Jane answered and Cora noticed both Thor and Loki's expressions tightened faintly from the topic, especially after they'd distributed everyone's gifts to their respective recipient. "All right, dig in."

Loki didn't touch his yet, just made a few motions to look as though he was doing something—instead he was watching Thor, and warily at that, look over his presents and then pick Loki's out of the pile first. They accidentally locked eyes when Thor looked over his shoulder at him, his expression one of guarded surprise. "You procured a gift for me?"

Loki nodded stiffly and then when Thor didn't move, he urged, "Well, go on, you big oaf, open it."

Thor looked at the box and tore off the paper and tag, lifting the white lid off to reveal the toolbox and belt and at first appearing slightly bewildered. "It is…"

"For Mjolnir," Loki finished with a withering sigh, already in the throes of fitful I knew it thoughts and immersed in the regret of buying his brother a gift he would be eternally mocked for.

In the meantime, Thor had taken the wrapping off the box and opened it, peering inside curiously like a child on, well, Christmas. He removed the insert and glanced toward where Mjolnir sat beside the sofa, reaching over to pick it up and setting it inside the deep-welled toolbox, having to angle it a certain way to fit it entirely inside. He closed the lid and tested the latches as Loki pointed out, "By the way, Erik can pick it up. I do not know if you were aware of that fact, but I figure I should warn you both ahead of time."

"He…," Thor began, but stopped, staring at his toddling son with pride. "Well, this should keep it from him for a while. And this?"

"It's a belt with loops for your weapons."

Thor ran his fingertips over the buttery soft leather belt before looking at Loki, who froze at the sight of his older brother's face. "Do not."

Thor grinned with tear-glossed eyes and boomed with laughter, snagging Loki into a firm embrace. So firm, he pulled him right off the couch and a few of the God of Mischief's presents along with him. "Thank you, brother. They are wondrous." Cora snuck a photo while both were occupied, only Jane noticing and giving her a wink of approval.

Loki glanced down, but allowed the gesture for a moment before squirming from under Thor's meaty arm, glancing at one of the presents that had toppled off the cushions. It was from Thor. Loki should not have been so shocked that he got him something, but he was, and he took up the small package in his hands and opened it carefully, tilting his head as he peered down at it. "What is a Kindle?"

Thor opened his mouth to reply, but was at a loss and looked to Jane for help. She smiled and replied in his stead, "It's a device for reading. There are all kinds of books on there, some you have to pay for and others that are free. You can do other things on it, too. I'm sure Cora can help you use it."

"Yeah, considering you got me one, too," Cora laughed as she unwrapped hers. "Thank you!"

"Yes, thank you," Loki agreed quietly, deeply intrigued by a device for reading that did not look anything like a book or a tome.

"Cora, these are so great!" Jane chimed in with a laugh when she unwrapped her gift from Cora, a pair of sterling silver earrings based off Schrödinger's Cat that she'd found online. One dangly earring showed a live cat, the other had cartoony x's over its eyes. Despite her nearly crippling love of animals—particularly cats—Cora had found them hysterical and figured it would appeal to her favorite scientist. Thor and Loki, on the other hand, were thoroughly confused.

A few sweaters, some toys for Erik, and a couple assorted gift cards later, they'd exhausted the stock of presents beneath the tree. Cora and Loki had saved their presents for one another to open later, just as Thor and Jane had left their gifts to each other at home for their return that afternoon. The majority of the day was spent watching Christmas movies the boys had never seen before and playing games while indulging in baby snuggles and mostly one-sided conversations. When the family of three headed home that night, Loki and Cora went out and picked up Chinese takeout, which they portioned out in plates and bowls and enjoyed on the couch while watching Home Alone, curated by Cora because she rightly assumed he’d enjoy the chaos.

After Cora had finished and set her dishes on the coffee table, she glanced at Loki and then picked up two bags hidden at the side of the couch, setting them beside him. "Whenever you're ready."

Loki glanced over with interest, but finished his dinner and set down his plate before picking up the first bag, opening it up and rooting through the tissue paper calmly before unearthing book after book stacked in like a jigsaw puzzle, pausing to glance at each one as he pulled them out.

"I admit, I feel a little ridiculous about these now because I didn't know Thor and Jane were going to buy you a Kindle, but…," Cora began, trailing off when she saw Loki shaking his head.

"I daresay I will always love paper tomes best," he told her seriously. "And this is more personal. My understanding of the device is that it will enable me to choose what I want, however you knew specifically what I would like. At least, I assume you went with things I would like."

"They're all dollar-store romance novels. All of them."

"My favorite," Loki said sarcastically back as Cora laughed. He leaned over and kissed her cheek before neatly stacking the books for later exploration, pleased with his gifts though he had one more. He looked over when Cora nudged the other bag forward and picked it up, taking out a wrapped box inside. Peeling off the paper, Loki opened the black box beneath to reveal a black and silver timepiece with a black faux alligator strap and tiny green accents on the hands. The face was sectioned to show the movement of the clockwork within the watch, which was spinning with life as he held it. "A little clock?"

"Essentially. It's called a watch."

"I am immortal, I have little use for a measurement of time," he reminded her calmly.

"Well, punctuality is appreciated in Midgard and you can't very well be on-time without having the time. And also I thought it was just a neat mechanism." She was right and she knew him better than he'd realized—he loved taking things apart and seeing how they worked, in fact he'd been driving her up the wall at times by piecing apart things she didn't think he'd be able to put back together, but he always did. His memory was impeccable. With this, he could see how it worked just by looking at it. A compromise. And his favorite colors as well.

He nodded to himself and thanked her before he took a small black bag from behind one of the throw pillows, setting it on her lap. Cora opened the bag and pushed the tissue paper aside, plucking out a box about the size of her hand and a smaller envelope that looked to be the size for a gift card. She slid that out first and laughed herself to tears when she saw it was to a local bakery. Loki watched her laugh silently, a small smile on his lips even as he watched her open the box, though it became a little sadder then.

"Wow," Cora breathed, gently lifting the intricate golden necklace from its keep. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before, except maybe in… "Is this from Asgard?"

He nodded once and paused heavily before explaining, "It was my mother's." Cora looked at him in surprise and he had to look down to avoid her soon-to-be watery eyes and seeing how her brow creased with her own grief. "I want you to have it and it would make her happy that I am giving it to you."

Cora smiled faintly and nodded. "Thank you. It's gorgeous."

After opening up the stockings and laughing over the trinkets they'd gotten each other—puzzles for Loki, chocolates and other fun candies for Cora—they cleaned up their plates and wrapping paper mess together. Once they'd neared finishing, Cora yawned and Loki said quietly, "Go on upstairs, I will finish these."

"You sure?" When Loki nodded without looking at her, Cora frowned slightly. "Is everything okay?"

Loki looked at her in surprise. "Yes? Everything is fine, why would it not be?"

Cora shrugged. "Just checking. You know I worry."

He smirked, "Well, stop. I'll be up shortly." She nodded and leaned up for a kiss before heading upstairs, stretching along the way and thinking what a nice Christmas it had been. Likely the best she'd ever had. After mulling over the events of the day while she changed into her pajamas, Cora smiled and sighed happily, "Couldn't have been better."

Loki was coming down the hall when she murmured those words and he paused, a faint knit between his brows before he smiled. He'd asked Thor extensively about a particular Midgardian practice while he'd been there that morning, and while Jane and Cora had been occupied hellions in the kitchen. Loki hated asking anyone for advice, anyone at all, but somehow he'd managed to make himself push past that bit of his ego and ask Thor what he had to do. And his brother had been more than helpful, enthusiastic even, which had probably really been their reunifying moment. At the very least, it was the closest to feeling that they were family again that Loki had come to in quite some time.

It was a good feeling, he decided in the darkened hall, much better than the faint churning in his stomach he was enduring now. However, he'd had the bit of silver and gem for months, he just hadn't known how to wield it. And because his brother had already made it through that milestone, he'd seemed the most reasonable person to ask. Loki wanted to do this right, in her world's terms. It was, as he’d found thus far, the tradition closest in detail between their realms.

Listening to her move restlessly around the bedroom as she always did before getting into bed, Loki reached into his pocket and pulled out a box, much smaller than the one he'd placed in her gift bag. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," he murmured softly in reply to her earlier statement to herself or the universe, his thumb pressing the lid of the box back and allowing the light filtering from the bedroom to illuminate the ring inside. Squaring his shoulders, Loki drew in a deep breath, closed the box, and nudged the door open.

Cora was a familiar sight inside their shared chamber—dark curls in a tumble around her shoulders with her hairclip recently removed, an oversized shirt boxed around her body with tiny sleep shorts underneath. She was pulling the covers on his side of the bed back in a fold so all he had to do was slip in beside her when he came upstairs. He smiled a little to himself, obscuring the ring box in his hand with a small fleeting glimmer of emerald green magic. 

Loki swallowed, finding his throat dry, and he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to do this how he’d intended if he couldn’t find his voice to speak. He ran out of time to do so though as Cora turned around and startled at his silent appearance in their doorway.

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed, her hand going to her chest as she laughed at her own reaction. “You got me.”

Loki smirked and took a measured step forward, deciding maybe a bit of banter would loosen him back up. He was kidding himself though, the only thing that would loosen him up is asking the question and getting an answer one way or the other. As much as he’d run the possible scenarios through his head prior to this pivotal moment, he’d not even been able to entertain the idea that she might say “no.” Not because she couldn’t, but because he couldn’t fathom the way his cold, Grinchy heart might break.

“I might have to sneak up on you more often if you call me your god like that again,” Loki teased her, close enough to stand over her and rest his lips against the top of her head.

Cora laughed and he felt the vibration of it through his body as well with her closeness, particularly when she wrapped her arms around his waist, her chin against his chest as she craned her head back to look at him. He wasn’t quite ready to look her in the eyes yet lest she see his nerves—she saw everything, she’d even noticed something when they’d still been downstairs—so he took the opportunity to bestow a few kisses on her forehead and cheeks. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she quipped back, the teasing edge in her voice all but nullified with the contented sigh his affections drew from her lips. “Although I may change my mind at this rate, what spell are you using on me?”

“No spell,” Loki chuckled, bringing his arms to encircle her and hold her close. “Just pure, inborn charm.”

“Mm, the spell’s wearing off.”

Loki smiled into her temple, his eyes falling to the box in his hand as it revealed itself again behind her back. He thought back over the words he’d rehearsed, over the possibilities he’d run through with his brother, and his heart started to betray him by racing in his chest.

“Someone’s excited,” Cora taunted him, her voice a little husky as her warm breath fanned his neck. Now that wouldn’t do at all, he hardly had any useful cognitive function to begin with right now, this side of Cora would seal his fate for good. “Want your last Christmas present?”

His face went hot as Cora stood on her toes and kissed his throat, his mind going horrifyingly blank. “Cora, come now,” he scolded her quietly, trying to regain his train of thought.

Cora laughed and joked back, “Give me some time, I’m just getting started.” Her hands secured themselves in the front of his shirt and she turned them both so his back was to the bed now, where she tumbled them both down, landing lithely straddling his hips. He was the one who was startled now, not because this was a new occurrence but because it was getting increasingly harder to think straight. He only had the wherewithal to obscure the ring box in an illusion again before she could see it in his hand and ruin the whole ordeal. No, instead she was swiftly bringing him to ruin—his favorite kind.

“Cora—,” he managed just as she bent down and kissed him, deep and tender, taking her time. By the Nine, I have lost my mind to try and hold this off, he realized as he hungrily kissed her back, his hand not occupied by an invisible ring box burying itself in her wild tresses. She stole his moan in her mouth as she kissed him even deeper, bearing down on him as he clung to his plan by the barest threads.

No, this wouldn’t do at all—he’d had a plan, damn it all, and he’d see it through and then lose himself with her. If she said yes. By the Nine, please let her say yes.

He managed to separate his lips from hers and said her name again, breathy but quietly demanding her attention. Undeterred, she moved her lips down to his neck and he gave a low growl that landed somewhere between frustration and frustration before he rolled them, pinning down her wandering hands and looking down at her bright, hooded gaze. The grin she gave him when she thought he was just taking charge of the route she’d put them on nearly caused him to lose what little sanity he’d clawed back. Gods, she was beautiful.

“Cora, listen to me, please,” he said insistently and she dropped her head back on the bed after trying to lean up and kiss him again. He had her well and truly pinned but it just encouraged her and her squirming was unhinging his resolve at an alarming rate.

At his words, Cora had retreated, looking up at him and wondering if she’d misunderstood the mood or encroached in a way he didn’t like. She’d not introduced anything new, so maybe he just wasn’t in the headspace for that now? Or maybe he was just too tired to entertain her games? A little disappointing, but the last thing she ever wanted was for him to do something he wasn’t keen on. Except maybe helping her with Christmas cards. “Is something wrong?”

He looked at her so intensely, her eyebrows shot up, expecting earth-shattering news when he instead simply, but ardently said, “I love you.”

This wasn’t the first time they’d said those special words to each other, but they were instances few and far between to be fair. For no other reason than neither of them were prone to using the phrase with any regularity. She loved him and he knew it, and vice versa. That it was hitting him so hard now was both a little funny and a little concerning. “I love you, too, silly,” she said with all the ease in the world, her raised brows lowering to form a crease. “Loki, are you sure you’re okay?”

“A little too ‘okay’,” he admitted sheepishly as he peeled himself off of her.

“What in the world does that mean?” Cora giggled, sitting up on her elbows to look at him. “And why is it a problem?”

“Because I have something I am trying to do and you have all but stolen my functioning mind,” he admitted, giving Cora license to look unbelievably smug. 

“Okay, okay,” Cora said, raising herself up to sit cross-legged on the bed and readjusting her pajamas. “I’m listening. You have my full attention, and not the kind you had in full a minute ago, I promise I’ll behave.”

“Well, hold onto that attention, too,” Loki hastened to say, raising one hand to plead with her. Cora laughed, her curiosity peaking as his gesture told her two things—how much he was trying to resist her advances at the moment for something he’d deemed more pressing, and also that he was holding something in his other hand that he’d not outstretched. He saw her putting the pieces together, her dark eyes perfectly honest in the cogs that turned behind them. “I have, erm… Something to ask you.”

Cora frowned a little, trying to figure out what he could possibly want to know about her that he didn’t know already. Her closets were all but skeleton-free—a few bones perhaps, maybe a wayward tumbleweed, but she didn’t have secrets from him. And if there was anything about her life as it currently stood with him that he didn’t know, it was possible she didn’t know whatever it was either. 

“Okay? Sure, whatever you want to know,” she said. Maybe this was about Jane and Thor’s visit? Was he stewing over that?

He cleared his throat, his face somehow more reddened than before, and Cora’s brain stuttered to a stop when she got a better look at his obscured hand and saw a little black box in it. Head absolutely empty for maybe the first time in her life, she looked at the box and then back at him, and then back at the box dumbly. 

“Cora,” he began seriously and he wasn’t sure whether or not it was a good thing she already seemed to be crying. “I genuinely would not be here—not in Midgard, I mean, but alive, but also in Midgard too I suppose—if it weren’t for you. You have given me more already than I could have ever thought to ask for—you gave me something to hold onto in my darkest hours, you gave me your support when I did not deserve it, your kindness when I least expected it. You have also given me my…family back in more ways than one. Dragging me along kicking and screaming, you have done the impossible and bridged the gap between myself and my brother…but you have also become my family, too. The only thing left, I believe, is to make that official.”

Cora was barely containing actual sobs and could do nothing about the tears streaming down her cheeks, her hands flush against her mouth. What little control she still had slipped fully away when he looked down at the floor and seemed to be overthinking which knee to take until he slid down on his right and looked back up at her sitting on the bed. His stance had just made him eye-level with her and he chuckled before saying, “I may need you to stand for me to do this properly, you are simply too short even sat up on the bed.”

She would have been indignant were it not for pure euphoria. She sniffled and, voice shaking, said, “My legs might give out if I try to stand on them,” even as she started to do as he asked.

“I will catch you,” he vowed gently. She smiled down at him and reached out to hold his hand. He took hers and kissed the inside of her wrist. “I love you. So much. Would you do the honor of marrying me?”

Cora’s knees knocked as a sob escaped her and even though it was apparent she was just extraordinarily happy, he had a moment of panic that maybe she was just horrified at the prospect of forever with him. He’d come close several times to making jokes about being each other’s mutual pains-in-the-ass, but had decided against it. She deserved a real, heartfelt proposal from him and he had more than enough in his heart for her to deliver. After a few seconds, he anxiously said, “Erm, it’s your turn, I think.”

“Sorry!” she exclaimed, laughing at herself through her tears as she sank to the floor. He instinctively moved to make good on his promise and catch her, but he realized she hadn’t fallen when she put her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her in turn, resting his chin against her shoulder. “Yes,” she whispered in a trembling tone against his neck. “A thousand times over, yes.”

Loki smiled, his eyes also now a little wetter than usual as he felt the knot leave his stomach and euphoria that mirrored what she seemed to be feeling taking its place. He kissed her cheek and maneuvered the ring out of its box, dropping the velvet container on the nightstand before collecting her hand from behind his back and slipping the ring on her finger, kissing it once it was in place. She smiled at him with pure elation, leaning in to kiss him and pour everything she was feeling into it.

When they parted, they looked at one another and Loki’s gaze suddenly shadowed, which was Cora’s only warning before he scooped her up and tossed her back on the bed. “Right,” he purred as he descended on her, “now back to your ‘gift.’ I want you in that ring and nothing else tonight, you little minx.”

Cora was, as ever, more than happy to oblige, and her trickster god took the night’s reins to worship at her altar. She was soaring, simply incandescently happy. She never wanted this to end, any of it, and now—on a promise forged by them both—it never would.

Thank you for reading! x Safe and comfy holidays to all.

[lorei-writes]

Recently I've been feeling things that refused to be put into words. I don't think I can do that now, to be honest. Anything that comes to my mind is both too big and too small all at once. But then there's only trial and error. So let's try.

The topic: this place.

Now, this isn't any announcement. It's nothing particularly dramatic either. My assumption is that this will not be of interest to anybody. I suppose the only reason why I write this is that... I have always done that and, on the off-chance of there being one person who would be curious to listen, it is only fair. Perhaps it is just my hoping that there is such a person. I don't know. I don't think I can know now.

For starters, it is very hard to describe precisely what I experience without hiding behind words. Without telling things as I wish they could be told -- but then, then that would be false.

One of the recent feelings was that this place is, well, somewhere between states. That it used to be one thing, that things changed, and that now the overarching assumption is that I am going somewhere else and abandoning what was.

*sigh* And that's the part that I don't understand. Things have always been changing... And I'm conflicted, because I'm trying to find a way to navigate it all.

For one thing, it is wonderful to feel a surge of joy. I'm so happy to have found a new little interest to pursue. I'm happy to be able to take things, to create with them, to explore new possibilities... But at the same time, it doesn't mean that I'm moving away from the quiet familiar joys I once had. Surely, the ratio of them may change... But it isn't my intention to step away from them. If anything, I want to find a way to have both the old and the new. I don't want to choose when I don't even see it as a choice.

But, I don't know how to accomplish that. I don't know what sets of rules to impose and I presume simplifying them will be an ordeal in and of itself... And what is worse, I expect that the more things I like, the harder this will get.

This ties with another feeling I have. It... Well. There was a time I thought I'd be happy if I had more -- more recognition, more appreciation, more friends. Now I realise I'm at the receiving end of overwhelming amounts of kindness. I think I get more than my far share of appreciation, and I'm fairly certain most people I know in real life have not been given nearly as much. I'm beyond grateful, but here... Here again is where I lose my balance.

I write plenty. I do art. I make edits. I crack jokes. I ramble about meta. All are the means of sharing joy to me. The happier I am, the more passionate I am, the more of those I do. I know I can go on, and on, and on, and that I may be rather tireless at times.

I wouldn't call myself a popular writer. I don't think most people would realise if I disappeared one day... And in a way, I am thankful for that. Because, due to the sheer volume of my joy, I am swept away and overwhelmed by your kindness.

The key word is overwhelmed.

But how could I not want it? How could I not appreciate it? I love hearing from you guys. I love it when we talk. I love it when we are silly together, when we throw headcanons around, when we theorise or build each other up. It's precious. It's great. I don't want you to stop. I wish I could talk with more of you... But it also is so, so, so much. I don't want to grow indifferent to any of that, even if my -- or well, the human -- brain was not meant to handle such amounts of gratification.

But how do I balance it? What do I change to stay true to myself?

I need to figure that out. I want to believe that there is some sweet spot where I can share my joy while also remaining as I am... But I may need some time. Truth be told, getting more than 50 interactions per day is plenty, and the last month we never dropped below that. Not once.

*sigh, again* A part of me misses the time when there was just a couple of people here, partially because nothing felt as serious then. I love it when I'm talked to like just to any other person. I dislike any artificial distance being put in place -- and this is why we don't celebrate follower milestones. I appreciate you. I just noticed that the last time we did celebrate... assumptions were made. Lenses of superficial metrics be damned.

But, again, as much as I'm overwhelmed with kindness I receive, I do not want for any person to go. I do not want to be left alone. I do not want to push people away, even if it is just one me and plenty others.

There must be some way... And it is so terribly greedy of me, but I want to find it. I want to crack this puzzle... Even if nobody was to care about it ever being a puzzle in my head.

[jimalim]

Each step Nancy takes catches Robin more and more off guard as her center of focus inches closer and closer still into her proximity that makes her gaze downcast from the eyes they were so trained on further and further until they anchor on rosy red lips.

She sees Nancy speak the words more so than hears them. Her voice drowned out by the increasing volume of the spiked heartrate that sends goosebumps across her arms.

Considerate. Humorous. Kind.

Flowery descriptors that Robin lacks the complete context for as she’s been too zoned out to put the pieces together. Even with the prompt of what’re you thinking about? that Robin used to initiate this conversation, she couldn’t quite figure it out. Nancy had been in her head, closed off body language and quiet, one word replies to the other party goers that surrounded them, loudly milling about. When Robin, quietly concerned, asked about it, Nancy had taken a deep breath before downing the contents of her plastic cup, crunching it with a little more force than intended once no liquid remained. What Robin took to be a way to loosen up in that moment, she’d later understand for what it actually was-some liquid courage-as the girl began to speak, slowly closing in on Robin’s personal space.

And still the words fall from Nancy’s lips as she continues to creep closer. Robin swallows hard and forces herself to focus on the voice.

“I’m tired of side-stepping it. I can’t keep my feelings inside anymore.”

Ah.

Nancy has a crush. Probably someone here at the party, someone’s who’s presence must have set her off. The sight of some other girl hanging over his shoulder. A couple dancing as if space doesn’t exist. Him offering someone a drink with a wink.

She scans the room, as if looking for who Nancy could be describing, meanwhile Nancy’s eyes are trained on her. When a slender hand curls around Robin’s own, she’s caught once again off guard. She looks down and watches as her name rolls off Nancy’s lips before she feels them on her own.

They part moments later, Robin’s head fully spinning. The goosebumps that litter her arm tingle. A shiver runs down her spin that causes her to twitch her neck. Shaking her head, Robin speaks with squinted eyes and a questioning rasp. “Wait, weren’t you just telling me about some guy you’re sweet on?”

Nancy grins as she clarifies. “I never said guy.” Her left hand reaches out to hold Robin’s free hand, their others still intertwined between them.

Robin, still in disbelief, despite all of Nancy’s affirming actions, prods once more. “Just for clarification sake, the person you’re sweet on-“

Nancy rolls her eyes hard, pulling back enough to release a hand to push Robin’s shoulder. “Is you stupid!” She pulls them back together again before furthering her playful chastising. “Did you not listen to a word I said?”

Considerate. Humorous. Kind.

Words used to describe Robin herself, couched between other gushy phrases she missed from her inability to keep it cool.

Robin’s quick to reply, not wanting to further muck up what should have been a sweet and memorious moment. “To be honest, I was pretty lost in your eyes. I had a hard time focusing on anything else.”

“Oh?” Nancy tilts her head with an air of incredulous surprise. “So this is where my eyes are?” She gestures to her mouth and lets out the faintest chuckle at the way Robin’s own eyes snap back up to look at her directly. “Just how much taller do you think you are?”

Robin should be mortified at being so blatantly caught staring, again, but the way Nancy’s smile cocks upward at the corners makes Robin want to push back. To one up her, by standing up as straight as she can, puffing her chest out in the near nonexistent space between them, forcing Nancy to look up at her-neck craned ever so. A similar cocky grin grows across Robin’s face before biting her bottom lip a moment before releasing to whisper with that familiar rasp, this time warm and confident-“tall enough.”

The tension between them ratchets up the longer they continue to stare.

A silence cements around them.

Robin can feel her skin grow hot, the goosebumps dissipating while the tingling sensation intensifies.

Nancy is the first to move, countering Robin’s pose by wrapping her arms around Robin’s neck.

She taunts.

“You gonna do something about it, or are you still too lost in my eyes to see what’s really happening here.”

Robin obliges.

Closing the distance, and recapturing Nancy’s lips with her own.

This time, knowing full well what’s going on.

No longer caught-

off guard.

[sollucets]

ocean eyes

angel & darlin’s first meeting, featuring my named & described listener ocs (ivy they/them, aster they/she/he but they/them here, cameo from hazel they/them) & very very gently implied pre-poly angel/david/darlin(/sam). i didn’t initially mean to do that, but aster flirts too much lmao. only ivy’s physical appearance is described in specific detail, but i include a lot more appearance headcanons (and general headcanons) than i usually would otherwise.

i’m a little nervous to post oc content, but for me there really wasn’t another way i could imagine going about in-depth listener character interactions, and dammit i’m here to have fun

[ed: 06/11/22 some small edits made here, mostly proofreading]

2500 words of a whole lot of significant eye contact incoming: that first pack meeting

"Snacks always help."

Ivy keeps staring at them for a long moment. Their eyes are intense, and Aster sort of feels like a butterfly pinned to a board. "You're David's mate," Ivy says, slowly. "You shouldn't want to help. I put you in danger. He said so himself." At this volume, plenty of nearby wolves are sure to be able to hear their conversation, but Ivy doesn't sugarcoat their words or lower their voice.

Aster considers their answer. They could try and tell Ivy what they'd thought before, about intentions and sympathy, but they doubt that would go over well. They can almost imagine it, the already-rigid lines of Ivy's posture going even sharper, like broken glass. No, that won't work. Instead, they just shrug and push the bowl a little closer. "These have pickles in them."

Aster and Ivy meet at that first pack meeting.

David didn’t want them to come. He’d returned from the talk he’d told them about stressed out and angry and anxious, visibly so. It wasn’t that he’d flat-out disallowed them entry; even as distraught as he’d been, he’d never do that, and if he even tried he’d have been in trouble. But he’d admitted to them with some difficulty that his pack member’s situation had him worried in more than one direction. He didn’t want them to be directly involved with each other.

(“Quinn went after an unempowered human just to hurt them before,” he’d said, voice so deadly quiet it was barely a rasp in the still air of their shared bedroom. “There’s no reason he won’t do it again. I’m – I’m scared for you, angel.”)

They understand where he’s coming from, and they’d told him that much then, taking both his hands in theirs and squeezing. David likes pressure like that, a physical reminder of their presence. Aster had done their best not to dismiss his concerns out of hand, because as much as it chafes, they know he isn’t wrong to worry. More than that, they never want to make David feel bad for showing them his real emotions.

But they’re not in any more danger at the meeting than anywhere else. They’re probably safer than ever here, even, surrounded by their Pack. Quinn would have to be a real idiot to attack now. More than that, they’d made a promise a long time ago they’d never skip one, not if they could help it, and even if they hadn’t, this one will be important.

Their mate doesn’t know about their promise, but that doesn’t make it any less important, and Aster doesn’t regret showing up today.

David holds meetings outside when the weather's good, at a park in the heart of pack territory. They all gather at a set of wooden picnic tables under a shelter, surrounded by green. Essential to any Shaw pack meeting is the long table covered in snacks that spans the entire length of the floor. Usually, even during the actual meeting part, it’s difficult to get people’s attention away from the food, but today everyone’s eyes are fixed one one wolf in particular.

David’s wayward packmate looks nothing like Aster might have imagined them. From the way he’d talked about them, Aster had half-expected them to be intimidating, hulking, tall like David or Asher. Their boyfriend had described his pack member’s many scars with a difficult-to-read expression, something regretful and angry and wistful all at once.

The person slouched uncomfortably on a central wooden picnic table, leaving several feet of space clear between their spot and David’s, isn’t how Aster had pictured them at all. They’re covered from nearly head to toe in shapeless layers of dark, pragmatic clothes, black jeans and boots and shirt and leather jacket, and their ears and left eyebrow are pierced with multiple golden rings, but that’s where the expected parts end. They’re a lot shorter than Aster, and only a little taller than Ash’s tiny mate Hazel. They have dark, soft-looking skin, none of the scars showing on what bits of it Aster can actually see. Although their black hair is close-cropped in a no-nonsense style, a few wispy little baby hairs escape to brush against their forehead.

Aster had pictured someone like the members of the pack they were most familiar with, but Ivy Linden looks almost delicate. If they were human, it’d be easy to lift them, just the way spinning Hazel in a hug is. But they’re not. There’s a wolf behind those big, dark eyes.

Those eyes glare out over the gathering as they haltingly tell the story of their return to Dahlia, gaze darting from person to person and barely settling. David sits next to them on their bench, mostly silent, watching them with a carefully neutral expression and interjecting only rarely.

In Aster's opinion, Ivy is obviously, painfully scared to be speaking in front of a crowd like this. They stumble over their wording often, barely holding back curses each time, and their back is rigid, ramrod straight. As their story goes on, Aster blames them less and less. They don’t know the precise reason that Ivy never meshed well with the pack as a kid (because David doesn’t know; if he knew, he’d have said) but it must have been bad if they didn’t feel like they could ask for help, and here they are, spilling what sounds like the most traumatic moments of their entire life to the whole group at once. If it’s difficult, if they’re angry, who could hold it against them?

Well. Maybe some people could. They’d inadvertently focused Quinn’s attention on the Shaw Pack, it’s true, lying to David in the process. But Quinn had been fucking around in Dahlia already, albeit on Solaire territory, and they’d been intentionally trying not to endanger the Pack, even if they’d done that in the most stupid way possible. Aster’s heart is melted straightaway. Someone else might’ve hesitated, might’ve looked at their defensive posture and harsh words and obviously cultivated bad guy appearance, and shied away from assuming innocent. Someone else isn’t Aster, though, and they have some experience with recalcitrant wolves.

David’s never gone without his pack in his life; they can’t imagine him not turning to them for some form of support. But taking everything on his own shoulders in some misguided attempt at martyrdom? Yeah. Yeah, Aster can see it, and it hurts.

Ivy finishes their story, their words faltering towards the end. They don’t expand on anything David said to them, cutting off with a sharp jerk of their chin.

David takes over, words measured as he starts talking about where to go from here, and Aster tunes him out to switch their attention to the crowd. He’ll tell them the decisions later; it’s more important to them to see how everyone is taking this.

Milo, who was the first to speak up and offer his and his mate’s support, looks at Ivy like it hurts to do so. Asher hasn’t spoken at all, expression surprisingly sober, but Hazel at his side has been whispering into his ear, and when they do their customary debrief Aster’s sure he won’t spare them his opinion. The other members of David’s generation all look at Ivy with conflict of various shades; older pack members seem to be tending more towards outright disappointment.

Ivy, under the weight of all those gazes, juts their chin out harder, jaw set. A glance down confirms their fists are clenched. They listen silently to David’s instructions and the input of the pack.

David announces a brief break while they move on to the next topic, and the tense atmosphere breaks some as people begin milling around the snack table. Ivy doesn’t move even an inch, staying completely still on their bench, and although people still stare, no one is approaching. Watching them, Aster wants with a surprising amount of intensity to take one of those hands in theirs and watch the tension smooth out. It’s a gut feeling, completely unprompted by their conscious thoughts, and following those has never led them wrong.

They grab an entire bowl of those little ham roll things that David likes so much and sit right next to the wolf of the hour, plunking the food right onto the table. “Hi,” they say plainly, letting a smile play at the corners of their mouth. “I’m Aster. You look miserable.”

Ivy jerks over to look at them in a movement faster than they can follow, dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. Up close, the color of them is like the ocean at night, so black it’s nearly blue. “And you look rude.”

They let their grin widen. “Aww, really? But I brought you snacks.”

“Why?”

“Snacks always help.”

Ivy keeps staring at them for a long moment. Their eyes are intense, and Aster sort of feels like a butterfly pinned to a board. “You’re David’s mate,” Ivy says, slowly. “You shouldn’t want to help. I put you in danger. He said so himself.” At this volume, plenty of nearby wolves are sure to be able to hear their conversation, but Ivy doesn’t sugarcoat their words or lower their voice.

Aster considers their answer. They could try and tell Ivy what they’d thought before, about intentions and sympathy, but they doubt that would go over well. They can almost imagine it, the already-rigid lines of Ivy’s posture going even sharper, like broken glass. No, that won’t work. Instead, they just shrug and push the bowl a little closer. “These have pickles in them.”

Finally, Ivy breaks their stare-off, looking down at the bowl of snacks like Aster is handing them a bomb. “I don’t get you,” they say quietly, but they take a little ham roll, quick like they expect to be interrupted, and crunch into it.

Aster can feel another pair of eyes heavy on the back of their neck now, and they glance over their shoulder to find David watching them in obvious concern. These two are honestly too similar, with the staring and the leather jackets and the obvious muscle tension. No wonder he’s so tied up in knots over all this. They wave at him, a little two-fingered thing, and turn back to their new project. “I’m not so hard to get,” they say.

Ivy snorts, a barely-audible exhale, no humor on their face. That unwavering gaze is now fixed on the ham rolls. “Not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Poor phrasing,” they concede lightly. “But I’m an open book.”

“If you say so.”

They sit there in near-silence for a while. The other pack members mill around the shelter, eating and talking, but none of them come close. Milo is looking at them from across the room like he might want to try, little surreptitious glances, but he doesn’t. Ivy takes another ham roll.

Aster breaks the lull, as they usually do. “How have you been getting along in the city on your own for this long? Do you have a job?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“You said I was rude. Isn’t it polite to ask after work?”

Ivy snorts again, but the corner of their mouth is curved up. “You’re annoying. I do odd jobs. Construction, sometimes.”

Putting a hand over their heart in mock offense, Aster grins. “Excuse you, I am a delight. You work in construction? How? You’re tiny.”

“Fuck you,” says Ivy, baring their teeth. On anyone else it might be a smile. “You’re tall, but you’re skinny. Like a bendy straw. I could take you.”

Aster raises an eyebrow and just barely holds the obvious innuendo in. This isn’t David, for all that Ivy’s acting a bit like him. “I’m stronger than I look, too,” they answer serenely. Then, despite their best efforts, they add, “I invite you to try.”

To their slight surprise, Ivy’s expression thaws for the very first time at this. “I think your mate would actually kill me,” they say slowly. “He’s trying to glare me to death as we speak, you know.”

They shake their head fondly. “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Ivy opens their mouth like they’re about to argue with that, brow furrowed, but they’re interrupted as Asher approaches, Hazel trailing behind him. “We’re going to start up again soon,” he says, a little more subdued than usual. “It’s mostly company stuff from here.”

At the sound of his voice, Ivy’s back goes straight as a board again. Huh. Aster hadn’t realized it had relaxed. They aim a smile at the beta. “Thanks for letting me know.”

There’s a long moment of extremely awkward silence. Hazel catches Aster’s eye from behind their mate and makes a face. Finally, Ash looks right at Ivy and says, “I think the last time I saw you was at Amanda’s graduation party.”

“Might have been,” Ivy replies, tone flat.

Aster winces.

Ivy and Asher stare at each other, his expression falling further and further the longer they look. Aster doesn’t envy Ash the full force of that attention, honestly. The silence hangs even worse, and Aster almost opens their mouth to interrupt, but Ivy beats them to it. “You were drunk off your ass and flirting with that boy from the Keaton pack the whole time.”

That’s a peace offering if they’ve ever heard one, and Asher takes it that way, his mismatched eyes softening into something approaching a smile. It’s still not close to his usual bright affect, but it’s better. “I barely remember most of it, honestly,” he admits. “But that seems about right. Sober me would’ve known better. Tragically heterosexual, that man.”

The reminiscing session is cut off by David coming back to his seat and clearing his throat loudly. Asher says, “See you later, Ivy,” and heads back to his spot. Hazel waves slightly to Aster as the two leave. Aster chances another look at Ivy’s face and catches the only unguarded expression they’ve seen from them all night – a small, wondering shock. For the second time that night, Aster’s heart melts in their chest.

David sitting down again immediately closes up Ivy’s expression again, and has the secondary effect of him very nearly sandwiching Aster between him and Ivy. They could go back to the outer tables, sure, but they don’t. It’s their right to sit next to David, anyway, although they usually don’t bother. He shoots them a glance, concern and question in his warm brown eyes, and they link their pinky with his under the table in reassurance.

Yeah, he might’ve been right to be worried after what happened to Ivy’s last unempowered friend, but it’s too late by now. They know it in their chest, the same way they’d known the moment they’d seen Davey’s ears go red in the food court. This is someone they can wear down. They have no history with Ivy, not the way the rest of the Pack does, and someone without that baggage should be on their side. Those little scattered bits of information about the Solaire Clan vamp make them think someone already is, and that’s good, but Ivy needs contacts in the Pack. David wants to be, but his expression when he’d spoken about them, that ocean of distance, might be too far for him to bridge on his own.

They can do it, though. So it’s decided.

Ivy is staring again when they look back over, eyes fixed on where David’s hand disappears under the table. Aster nudges them very slightly with their free arm, and counts it as a victory when they don’t flinch away from the touch. “Just the boring bits left now,” they murmur, feeling David’s pinky tighten around theirs in obvious irritation. “Talk to you after?”

Ivy’s big dark eyes flick up to theirs for another long, excruciating moment. It feels like they’re searching for something. An ulterior motive, maybe. Aster stares right back, evenly, and doesn’t hide their smile when Ivy finally says, “Okay.”

[lemonwrap]

Come Into The Water - Oneshot

A part of the Tongues & Teeth AU, but the previous fics aren't required to understand this. Please be advised that this contains NSFW content. Don't read it in public, lol.

Read it on Ao3!

Soap is leaving tomorrow. 

That’s a simple fact of their situation. It’s the end of Soap’s three month leave, and he’s departing tomorrow. 

Ghost has landed a job, so he won’t be completely helpless with Soap gone. It’s a simple job, one that doesn’t require much, if any talking. Just stocking shelves in the back of the local drug store. His employer had accepted the excuse of being born a mute surprisingly easily, even without any documentation, and didn’t seem to give a damn about Ghost not having any references or previously listed jobs. Maybe it’s just that small town kindness.

Soap had been pleased. He had encouraged Ghost to do what he wanted, and if he wanted a job, to get one. Ghost doesn’t want to be a burden. Not after everything Soap has done for him. So he had applied for a couple of jobs, wanting to be able to support himself, too, and not rely on Soap for everything, especially after he had taken Ghost to see his family’s graves with no complaint. 

Soap pads into the living room where Ghost is idly reading a book. He reads often now. Soap’s eyes find his face, and there’s something soft in his eyes. Ghost isn’t wearing his mask today. Some days are hard, and he can’t stand the idea of someone, even Soap seeing his face, so he dons either the face mask or the balaclava. But today is a good day. He still wears the face mask out in public, and usually a hat and sunglasses, too, but the locals didn’t seem to mind much, and rarely commented on his appearance when he managed to bring himself to be out in public.

He’s still adjusting to being a civilian, but he likes the mundane, in a strange way. He likes it because he’s never had it before. 

Ghost looks up and gives Soap an acknowledging dip of his head. It’s nearly four in the afternoon, late enough to be considering dinner. 

Are you making dinner tonight? Ghost asks Soap. Ghost cooks sometimes, although Soap definitely has some critiques about his cooking.

“Aye. I’m gonnae do something I haven’t cooked for you before.”

What is it?

“You’re going to laugh,” Soap protests as he sits down on the couch next to Ghost.

I won’t, Ghost insists. 

“Fine. It’s called rumbledethumps.”

Ghost bursts out laughing, unable to help himself. 

“God, I knew you’d fucking laugh,” Soap complains, but he’s smiling, his eyes bright and lovely. Ghost calms enough to breathe properly, his laughter subsiding. 

Ridiculous name, he says.

“I didnae name it,” Soap says, not quite indignant, obviously still in a jesting mood. He gets a little closer and leans his head on Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost sets his book down on the rickety coffee table and settles in with Soap, linking their hands together as they cuddle on the couch. Ghost still isn’t one hundred percent used to the affection, but he likes it nonetheless. 

Ghost ends up dozing on the couch for a while with his partner, vaguely watching whatever channel Soap had been watching the previous night. It’s set to some terrible romcom that he isn’t particularly interested in. He’s slowly learning what he likes, and he’s learned that he doesn’t really care for romcoms. 

Eventually, Soap sighs and gets up, leaving Ghost with a cold spot on his side where he had been leaning up against him. 

“I’m gonnae make dinner,” he says, and disappears into the kitchen. Ghost listens to the quiet sounds of Soap cooking, just barely heard over the TV’s low volume. 

He must’ve fallen asleep, because he’s being shaken awake.

“It’s dinnertime,” Soap says. “C’mon. I made it good, since it’s my last day. The food on base is gonnae be shitty compared to this.”

Ghost gets up, stretching out his limbs before ambling into the kitchen and dishing some food onto a plate. He smiles a little at the name. Rumbledethumps. Absolutely absurd. He plops down at the table with Soap, right across from him. They dig in. Ghost still can’t taste the food, but it’s pleasantly hot and doesn’t have a weird texture, so he decides it’s alright. 

“Is it good? I haven’t cooked this dish in ages,” Soap chats. “My ma used to make it a lot when I was a kid, though.” 

Ghost nods his head, taking another bite of his food. Soap finishes his meal first, as always. Ghost can barely finish his plate, having a meager appetite as usual, but he appreciates Soap’s cooking greatly. Soap gets up and puts their plates in the sink. Ghost is about to get up and leave when Soap speaks.

“I’ve got a surprise, by the way,” Soap says, and Ghost perks up, curious. “Hold on.”

Soap opens up a cabinet and pulls out a bottle. 

“Tada! Scotch,” he says, showing off the bottle. Ghost smiles. 

“You up for a drink?” 

Ghost nods his head. A drink sounds nice. He doesn’t drink or smoke, too used to not being allowed luxuries of any sort. It’s strange to be able to do what he wants, when he wants, and to enjoy himself. Ghost is still getting used to his freedom. 

Soap grabs two glasses from the cabinet and ambles into the living room, setting their glasses down on the coffee table next to Ghost’s book. 

“Drink up,” Soap says, cheerfully pouring him a glass. They sit down on the couch and clink their glasses together, and Ghost feels a small ache in his heart. It’d be a while before he could enjoy himself with Soap again after this. He’ll be gone for who knows how long. He scootches a little closer to Soap, so close that their thighs are touching. 

They lounge on the couch next to each other, sipping and enjoying their drinks. The scotch burns nicely as it goes down Ghost’s throat and he finishes the glass off. 

After a few minutes, Soap’s hand creeps onto his thigh, and Ghost swallows, maybe a little nervously. He gathers his bravery and puts his empty glass to the side, runs his hand up Soap’s arm and up to his neck, threading his fingers through Soap’s grown-out mohawk. They’re so close that they’re breathing each other’s air. Soap stills, as if waiting for something, so Ghost just closes the gap and kisses him. Soap kisses back, his lips gentle against Ghost’s. His hand strays further up his thigh and plays with the button on Ghost’s jeans, making him flush slightly. He hasn’t thought much about being with Soap in that capacity. He isn’t against it, but he also isn’t sure if Soap would really want him like that. He’s not exactly a model. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Soap says, voice low. 

Don’t, Ghost signs, and Soap seems to take this to heart. He begins to grab at Ghost’s shirt, helping him pull it off, but Ghost stills, his previously aroused mood mostly vanishing as he becomes self-conscious. He feels every scar on his body, from the burns to the lashes, and a burning sensation of shame courses through him as he avoids Soap’s gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Soap asks, noticing. 

My scars, Ghost says. He knows there’s too many of them, and he knows that they’re not pretty. The scars on his body are much worse than the minimal ones on his face, the ones he’s been brave enough to show Soap. He wants to put his shirt back on. He knows Soap has at least seen glimpses of his body before, but Ghost has never shown him explicitly. 

“I dinnae care about them,” Soap says. “I care about you.”

Ghost hunches in on himself as Soap’s eyes rake over his body before settling on his face, sympathetic. 

“Can I touch you?”

Ghost nods his head slowly. 

“I’ll show you,” Soap says. “Fuck. You’re right bonnie, you know that?”

Translation? Ghost asks, smiling somewhat, the shame fading. Soap still wants him. 

“You’re gorgeous.”

This time, their kiss is full of hunger as they meet, hands tangling in each other’s hair. Soap reaches down and unbuttons Ghost’s jeans, his hand finding Ghost’s boxer-clad erection. Ghost stiffens a little, but tries to relax into it. 

“We should probably take this somewhere else,” Soap says, his eyes full of mischief and lust. “The bed’s more comfortable.”

Ghost nods and follows him into Soap’s room. It’s more like their room at this point, as Ghost rarely sleeps in his own bed. Soap pushes him down onto the bed, and Ghost lets him pull his jeans and boxers off. Ghost feels a little shy, if he’s honest, which is laughable. A man like him shouldn’t be shy. Soap hovers over him, kissing him. 

Your clothes, Ghost says, and tugs at his shirt. Soap chuckles and pulls it off, before unceremoniously taking off his pants, too. His cock strains against his boxers, and Ghost eyes it, a mixture of nervousness and arousal. Ghost runs his hand along the waistband of Soap’s boxers, meeting his eyes, and when Soap nods, he pulls them down. His cock springs forth, thick and standing up proudly. 

Ghost hesitates for a second before he runs his hands up Soap’s body, ghosting over his skin, near his cock but not touching it. Soap allows it for a moment, but then he eagerly presses Ghost back against the bed, leaning over him, caging him with his arms. He runs his lips over Ghost’s scarred skin, placing kisses here and there, moving downwards. By the time Soap is pressing a kiss to Ghost’s inner thigh, purposefully avoiding his half-hard cock, Ghost is quivering slightly. 

“Still good?” Soap asks, mouthing along his thigh, scraping so close to his cock. Ghost wants more. He wants Soap. He nods his head.

“How far do you want to take this?” Soap asks him. “I’m fine if—“

I want it all, Ghost says, flushing hotly. 

Soap’s eyes almost visibly darken at this, his pupils wide and blown. 

This seems to ignite a fire in Soap. He strokes Ghost’s cock in his hand, before he abruptly takes it in his mouth. Ghost makes an embarrassing noise, his muscles flexing as he tries not to squirm under the pleasure. Soap only keeps it up for a few blissful minutes before he pulls back, his lips glossy and his cheeks flushed red. 

“Wannae finger you,” Soap utters, and Ghost doesn’t think he can blush any further. “That okay?”

Ghost nods his head yes. He stares up at the ceiling as Soap’s hands run up his body and cup his ass, before they disappear for a long moment. Ghost is left hard and anticipating, until he hears a click and something cool touches him. He jumps, but Soap soothes him with a hand against his thigh. The finger circles around his hole before gently breaching him. The stretch is strange, but not painful. He gasps, his thighs quivering even harder as Soap’s finger pumps in and out slowly. It’s not long before Soap adds a second finger, scissoring him open, leaving Ghost to try and stifle his whimpers. 

“So fuckin’ good for me,” Soap says, before diving back in and taking Ghost’s cock in his mouth again as he fucks him open with his fingers. Ghost can’t help but gasp, muscles twitching. Then, Soap’s fingers brush over something that makes pleasure shoot straight up his spine. Ghost lets out a sudden, sharp cry, and Soap immediately pulls off and stills his fingers. 

“Should I stop?” Soap asks. Ghost raises his head to shake it. 

It felt good, Ghost tells him. Do it again.

Soap obeys. He does it again, and again, and again. Ghost can’t stop his whimpering, thighs threatening to close, hands clutching the sheets as he lays on his back and takes it. He wants to call out Soap’s name, his real name, but all that comes out is a strangled noise. But it’s not one of fear or pain. The heat keeps building in his gut, frighteningly fast as Soap swallows him down and adds a third finger. Ghost whines. He taps Soap frantically a few times, and Soap pulls out and off immediately, looking up at him anxiously. 

“Too much?”

No, I just don’t want to come yet, Ghost admits, embarrassed. 

Soap grins, running a finger up his cock and making Ghost shudder lightly. “Glad to know you liked it.”

Soap gets up and fumbles around for something, and Ghost hears the sound of a wrapper. Soap leans over him, spreading Ghost’s legs around his waist as Ghost lays on his back, Soap’s cock hard and huge against his backside. 

“You ready?” Soap asks. Ghost nods and shyly grinds against Soap’s cock, making him suck in a sharp breath. 

“Just tell me if you wannae stop,” Soap tells him. Ghost simply grabs his hand and leads it down to his ass. 

“Wannae treat you good, make you miss me,” Soap says, hushed. Ghost will miss him either way, no matter what.

Soap takes his cock in hand and slowly inches it into Ghost’s hole. He’s at Soap’s mercy as he works him open, and it’s a little scary. Ghost holds on tight, breathing through the intense stretch, Soap so hot and thick inside him that it makes him sweat. It’s on the verge of being painful, but not quite. 

“Doin’ great, Si,” Soap moans out, stroking Ghost’s slightly flagging cock and getting it to harden again as he pushes the last inch inside. He gives Ghost a long moment to adjust, waiting until Ghost himself rocks back onto Soap’s cock, shivering. Ghost’s legs tremble as he bashfully covers his face with one arm. 

“C’mon, lemme see you,” Soap says, pulling his hips back and then thrusting in. Ghost lets out a strangled gasp, but uncovers his face. Only for Soap. 

“Doin’ so amazin’,” Soap compliments. “Feels so, ah, good.”

He moves a bit faster, rolling his hips slowly but deeply. Ghost’s body jolts at the pleasurable assault, and suddenly his back is uncontrollably arching as Soap hits something absolutely electric. He scrambles to tighten his grip on Soap’s arms, shaking, ankles locking together behind Soap’s back. 

“That your spot?” Soap asks breathily, beginning to focus his thrusts. All Ghost can do is nod, unable to sign a single word. His nails dig crescent shapes into Soap’s skin as he holds on for dear life, gasping and sobbing out his pleasure. He probably isn’t a virgin, but he can’t remember ever feeling like this before. 

Johnny, more, please, please, please, he manages to let go to sign quickly, but he grabs Soap’s arms again, overwhelmed, when his cock continuously brushes up against his prostate, unrelenting. All Ghost can do is watch Soap’s face, all knitted brows, flushed skin, and bitten lips. The pleasure is becoming nearly unbearable, and he lets out a loud sound and clutches at Soap’s hand as a warning. He can’t hold it anymore. But Soap doesn’t stop, just keeps up that relentless pace that makes Ghost moan. Throwing his head back, Ghost shudders and shakes as he cums untouched all over his stomach in hot, thick ropes.

“There you go, Si, so perfect, so beautiful,” Soap says, still thrusting in and in, making Ghost cry out in overwhelmed ecstasy. It’s not long before Soap cums into the condom with a loud, unabashed moan. He pulls out slowly, and Ghost winds down from his orgasm, panting heavily, still laying on his back as Soap untangles their limbs. 

He hears Soap shuffling around and leaving the room, and a small bolt of panic runs up his spine. He sits up, still weak in the knees. Is he leaving? He relaxes when Soap comes back and climbs into bed, running a cool washcloth over his heated skin, cleaning him up. Suddenly overcome with something, Ghost grabs him and presses a tender kiss to Soap’s lips. 

He pulls back to look at Soap, and their eyes meet, soul searching. Fuck, he doesn’t want to let him go. He can’t let him go. Not after everything. 

Don’t go, Ghost signs, no, begs, grasping Soap’s hand in his own. 

“Okay,” Soap says after a long moment. “I’m yours, Simon.”

[a-tale-as-old-as-taiyang]

RWBY Volume 9 soundtrack song ranks

So I finally feel like I've put enough listens in to properly rank the songs on the Volume 9 soundtrack. Took a bit of extra time, not because I couldn't listen to it but because I found my initial impressions crumbling on repeat listens and therefore felt I needed more time to see where things shook out. This is just the original songs so no score tracks or the lofi wings.

Chatterbox - I can't stop talking about how awesome this song is, just such wonderfully sinister first verse and the pre-chorus kicks things up wonderfully setting the up the catchy as hell chorus. Martin's Guitar work is also great and evocative. All that being said it did just barely edge out.

Trapdoor - The funky little electronic lead in is so good and the may the chorus bounces along so wonderfully disguise how absolutely devastating emotionally this song is. This is really driven home by the outro which also brings some of the electronic vibes back after the rock centric middle. Just so easy to fall down the rabbit hole listening to this one.

Inside - Another banger of any opening and the fact it's only #3 is just a testament to how much I love the top 2. Really a great idea for what Casey and Martin have in store, it still sounds RWBY but has some of the prog elements from OK Goodnight (Casey's current band and Martins former bands) which I honestly think help give this volume it's own vibe musically and takes you into it's heart.

Checkmate - Love the jazzy feel of this song, the horn elements (courtesy of Zac Zinger) are great and Casey's vocals and the rhythm of the song have such a fun feeling that it's game set match.

Worthy - I'll be honest first couple listens the vocal elements acting as music over the top of the sung parts was not working for me, but slowly they gained foothold and the wonderful emotions took over so guess in the end the song was like it's title. I also think Ariyel was great, her parts gave me a Christina Perri vibe and I really like the interplay between her and Casey.

Guide My Way - I mean this song is really good a bit slow to start but the moment the melody of Red Like Roses Kicks in the song takes it to another gear, plus the "I'm what inspired the fairy tale line", really helps lead you along in the song. Note this is #6 not because it's not a banger but because of how god damned amazing this album is.

The Edge - A solid ending track it's laid back vibe at the beginning and soaring to the ending is very fitting vibe fore album but it can't edge out the tunes prior to it.

Quiet - I did the clock theme and it ticks off some boxes but it's easily the least interesting track on the album to me, again not bad just not necessarily my jam, just doesn't quiet do it for me.

Well if we can #greenlightvolume10 I sure hope Casey and Martin get to keep making the music because they knocked it out of the park. No shot at Jeff Williams but I love the new influences that they brought in, again it still sounds fitting to RWBY but with a new energy.

[rll-sohi]

Some of my favourite music!

The Brave Little Abacus - Masked Dancers: Concern in So Many Things You Forget Where You Are

An incredible mash of Math Rock, Midwest Emo, some elements of Progressive Rock, and probably much more, I have no idea honestly. This is a hard album to classify; I had never heard anything like it before the first time I listened to it and still have not. I happened to come across this album when I was first getting into music and when I had first made a Spotify account, about January 2019. It immediately enthralled me, with vocalist Demirjian's harsh yet emotional vocals, the constantly innovative rhythms, and a sound unlike any I had heard before and did not know how to classify. I quickly found out: I would spend the next month consuming these new genres I had discovered called "Midwest Emo" and "Math Rock". I believe this album is what really gave me my jumpstart in music listening. If I had not discovered it I probably would have given up on personally looking for music and gone back to listening to whatever was on the radio or in media I consumed lol.

Eventually I found that Midwest Emo was not my absolute favourite genre, but this album has still influenced me to have a love for kickass riffs and any kind of experimental rock. Map of the Stars is the best song ever btw

Deerhoof - Love-Lore

Oh boy what can I say about this. A short, mathy and noisy trip of 34 minutes, but one that will stick with you for a long time. I would not hesitate much to say that Deerhoof is my favourite band; these guys have been pumping out some of the most consistently intricate and interesting arrangements For the past couple decades, and this is them at the pinnacle of those two descriptors I think. Every track on this is great, but I have to highlight 2 and 4.

The second track is, for the most part, a smooth guitar riff backed by an arrangement I can only describe as being similar to a factory assembly line; everything falls into place as if deliberated according to calculations. Satomi's mechanical vocals add to this mood, and her sugary voice keeps it interesting. A couple minutes of waiting pays off, when the guitar explodes into a new riff packed with noise and Satomi attacks her vocals with renewed energy.

Track 4 is 19 minutes, which may be daunting but is definitely worth it. Sections of dissonant guitar plucking, simple rock made enjoyable by Satomi's cheery vocals backed by Deerhoof's characteristicly noisy guitars, and even a section of very spaced notes somewhat akin to Glenn Branca's no wave classic "Lesson No. 2".

Love - Forever Changes

A 1960s Psychedelic Rock classic, but also on top of that a product of folk and classical music. This is, in my humble opinion, the best executed album ever. The instrumentation is nothing insane: vocals, acoustic guitar, drums, violins, and pretty much anything else you would find in any and every other album that those genres listed above encompass. The rhythms are not crazy either. It is the way the instruments interact with each oher that makes this album shine so much. "Alone Again Or", for example, is so dreamy, with Arthur Lee's vocals climbing up and down and doubling each other, while the violin and guitar somewhat subtly climb pitch and volume in the background until both instruments and the vocals explode for a short refrain, immediately followed by a quiet guitar solo to regather everything.

This shit really is psychedelic though, the way Arthur Lee and his army of acoustics pick you up from "Alone Again Or" and keep you enchanted all the way until the end of "You Set the Scene", which is an outright incredible closer by the way. I have listened to this album in full something well over a dozen times and it still never fails to keep me interested. I even get something new out of it everytime: truly, Forever Changes.

Radiohead - OK Computer

I am not going to spend my effort adding more words to the multiple Bibles-length amount of words already written about this album dude All I will say is that it really does deserve the hype

Mr. Ye - The Life of Pablo

This is simultaneously the funnest hip hop album ever and at other times the realest. It is certainly a mess to listen to but that kind of adds to the fu,n and more importantly, the worth of its themes. Something something Kanye knows he is flawed and tries to enjoy life regardless but it gets to him at times, which is very evident in the up and down nature of the album. Sound-wise there is obviously a lot of experimenting, as is characteristic of Kanye. Noise rock fans might be drawn to "Feedback".

Well, that is it I suppose. There are a couple of interesting albums I have been racking hours on recently, so this list may have some new additions. For now, I would like to list some honourable mentions:

Sonic Youth - Daydream Nation (Some of the coolest guitar tunings and transitions ever hoooollyyy this album is so raw)

Swans - Soundtracks for the Blind (This 2 hour and 21 minute behemoth is the most expansive album I have ever listened to. How the hell is an album at times no wave, musique concrete, and at One point EDM?? And it has a cohesive mood throughout the whole runtime?? Gira outdid himself.)

Bladee - Gluee (I apologize for listing a Bladee album along with these other titles but it is such a fun album LMAOOO)

Sweet Trip - Velocity: Design: Comfort. (This album really should not work. I think if it was order one track differently I would not have liked it. GG made me feel like I was having a stroke good album)

Polvo - Exploded Drawing (Avant-garde and post-hardcore goodness. "Fast Canoe" is great.)