#Verse;closed -> To be named (Main)

[normaltothemax]

@equationsoff

“Can I ask you something?” He didn’t actually wait for an answer, just went ahead and asked. “Why didn’t you ever choose a different name for yourself?” An actual name, he very carefully didn’t say, because while “Five” might not be a “real” name in the typical sense, it was his. Had been for decades. Five was clearly attached to it, and Viktor wasn’t trying to offend—he was just curious, in the most honest sense of the word.

[respondedinkind]

@paramounticebound gets a random starter from me because reasons!

Something must have gone wrong somewhere along the lines.

Ka'anh had managed to reach the hangar - managed to fight his way through dozens of his own kind, sent after him to catch the fugitive and make him suffer for the consequences of not being enough - and even reached one of the many shuttles; How his body still carried his weight at that point he didn't dare to question.

Perhaps he'd just been blessed with an impossible large amount of luck, allowing him to close the doors and start the shuttle before the military was able to catch up with him - he doesn't believe in luck, and yet there's no other reason that explains how he even got out, away into the universe, the darkness of space.

But where luck brought him away from his planet, misfortune decided to intervene, it seemed. The last thing he remembers are the blinking lights of his vessel, alarms blaring from left and right, his shuttle getting shaken and pulled on by forces he'd never experienced before.

A bright light, and then...

A grunt escapes him, followed by a moan that comes from somewhere deep within his core; Pain shoots through him like a bullet, from head to toe and back up, and he squeezes his eyes shut as the taste of sand infiltrates his mouth.

Ka'anh's here, all of a sudden. Somewhere else, somewhere he hasn't been before, stumbling away from his crashed shuttle into the nothingness of what seems to be a vast desert ahead. The wind is merciless, but at least it's breathable; His body burns from the scorching heat, his heart racing due to blood loss and the injuries he's sustained both from his previous escape and the crash on this foreign planet.

A mixture of sweat and blood drips along the curve of his forehead, into his eyes - he blinks it away, spits crimson into the orange sand and continues to move forward... one step at a time. One, one, one, one...

He's alone, he guesses, lost somewhere where there's only the horizon visible at the edge of the world. But then he spots something else... something that looks equally as destroyed as his own vessel, most likely crashed in a similar fashion he has hours ago.

There's a body lying in the sand, on its stomach, close to the mountain of ripped steel. Ka'anh is armed, thank god he thinks, and pulls his bio-coded gun as he steps closer. One step at a time...

The image in front of his eyes turns triple from the pain and he grunts, but keeps standing. His nostrils burn, his body close to giving up, but he has to... he has to---

The gun is pointed at the foreign body, the head that's turned away from him. Raven hair is all he sees, no features, nothing that can tell him whether the other individual is even alive. How did this person end up here, he wonders - and why did their ship went down so close to my own...?

"---Tra!" (Hey), Ka'anh shouts after a while - the harsh wind swallows his voice, so he clears his throat, coughs and spits before repeating himself: "Tra, eiqe!" (Hey! You!)

He wonders if the other is alive - whoever that person is. Appears to be male, that's all he can tell, judged by the shape of the body, but... there's not much else he can work with - not unless he steps closer. He won't, not yet.

[burygods]

starter call : for cameron james

skeptics had a scale ... you had the firm disbelievers that were as resolute as a mountain, and the ones that want to believe but needed the proof, she hasn't decided where on the scale @eternaldark was on. she could tell she still didn't believe, not fully, but at the same time she couldn't deny how she got the job done. the little bits of information that kaia gives that normal investigating couldn't accomplish.

" i have two that stood out to me. " kaia announces as she walks into the premises they work out of, two folders in hand, setting them on the table in front of cameron. " have a look. tell me what you think. "

[stargrade]

of course not . you think we'd let that happen ? / from choso :)))

GUARD DUTY. it's almost like she's a tethered dog to a post, waiting for it's master to return. the irony that she's the one protecting tengen this time. her hand rests on the oak table before tapping it impatiently as all of them had put their stakes in this battle, or will be. there's a sort of restlessness that settles into her bones considering she's the sort that doesn't like staying in one place for too long. yuki would rather let the world take her wherever she pleases, a storm that travels from coast to coast to different regions. she still wants to see it all, but she can't.

they were drawing up plans, a blueprint to different scenarios. she's fond of thinking, attempting to figure out a solution like she's some doctor trying to cure a disease. but this wasn't it, there were too many variables involved & tengen says something that pricks her skin a little too deep. she wonders if tengen even understands the idea of sacrifice when countless, innocent girls are nothing but a product to be slaughtered to a higher being. yuki is thankful she's not very religious, or maybe it's her upbringing that made her realize that some higher beings were kind of shit.

❛ are you willing to make that sacrifice, oni-chan? ❜ the question is pointed at choso since this battle may very well end with their lives nothing but a speck of dust. ❛i know that senile granny is. considering it's not the first person being sacrificed for it. ❜ her words are acid, harsh on her tongue as there are still some feelings she hasn't quite wrestled with when it comes to tengen-sama. she lets out a sigh wondering if she's coming across as too abrasive to the raven-haired male. ❛ i'd sooner trust you than that thing. ❜

@cherrygardn

[acid-ixx]

(03/05/25) — again &. again masterlist

by the bird and the bee

ft. platonic soft! yandere batfam! x gn! neglected reader

✮ MAIN MASTERLIST ✮

— TRIGGER WARNINGS !

- lowercase writing, emotional neglect, allusions to sexual assault, prostitution & physical abuse, kidnapping, alcohol abuse, drugging, themes of depression, dissociation, vague traumatic events, mentions of murder, amnesia, other warnings would be added soon.

— SYNOPSIS !

who would have thought that living with your rich, billionaire father and endless supply of sisters and brothers would actually end up being the worst thirteen and a half year of your life?

when your mother was taken away from you at the ripe age of five, you were forced to live at the solemn wayne manor with nobody to accompany you but the butler, alfred pennyworth.

there, you learn that giving up was better than trying to gain the attention of your ever-growing family. so you left, and never once tried to look back at the decades of neglect they left you with.

but when alfred, your kind caretaker, had started leaving clues of your sudden disappearance; that's when they all take notice and then on starts the ultimate race of chasing freedom, and escaping what once was your gilded cage.

little did you know your mother's dark past manifests itself at the worst of times.

— CHAPTERS ! ; 48k+ words

00. — oh, please leave me be.

01. — because you only notice me once i'm out the door.

02. — and you don't even remember my face?

03. — i need a drink, away from everyone.

04. — mors tua, vita mea / your death, my life.

05 : 01. — a halo in the pit of darkness.

05 : 02. — to be his child is all i want.

— DRABBLES ! ; #series: again &. again

dick grayson calling you his baby bird

why now? (yan! damian wayne)

brutus (villain au concept)

brutus: out for blood

what if you were never neglected?

just a taste (yan! conner kent - suggestive)

laughter is the best medicine (yan! dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne)

to you, my greatest passion (non-neglected au-verse)

brutus: both arms cradle you now

bruce finding your graduation picture

how to be a heartbreaker! (yandere harem)

mea culpa (mini chapter)

conflicting comfort scene with jason todd

dialogue spoilers related to above drabble

more about jason todd and hurt/comfort

dick and his baby blue eyes

time travel au concept

sharing the same features with damian

brutus: the only fucked up thing in this world is you

cause you're takin' it like a champ, sweetheart! (yan! conner kent - suggestive)

brutus: just a burning memory (yan! conner kent)

young, just us?! (yan! young justice au)

that's my type! (yan! john constantine)

dick's miley cyrus eyes

you shoving their neglect in their face and it backfiring

model reader concept

why can't we return to what we once were?

— ASKS ! ; #series: again &. again

dick's spiral into yandere-ism

leaving gotham, resenting alfred, changing last names

your mysterious identity &. conner being your love interest

dick seeing you as a child & damian's need to be your favorite

damian and his cool, matching bracelets

does dick close the door on you? nah, he doesn't even know you were behind the door

wally west as your love interest

you care now?

conner as your angry, protective bf

jason trying his damn best to be a brother to you

calling bruce by his last name only

calling alfred your dad ft. jealous bruce

how are damian and jason obsessed towards you

their nicknames for you

how bruce and damian would try to bond with you

will you still go to college after being kidnapped?

will the series have a happy ending?

why does damian hurt you? and why do you justify his actions?

the family stalks you even in-game

how tim is in the series

what are the characters' ages in the series?

what if you were hypersexual?

how feral is dick in the series?

— INCORRECT QUOTES ! ; #a&a: incorrect quotes

yan! villains kidnapping you

hostage situation

how to become a target to the wayne family

dick and you miscommunication trope in a nutshell

— FANART ! ; #a&a: fanart

happy birthday by @luffyadolover

diary by @luffyadolover

another reason they're broke &. finished art by @oh-nowo-i-got-uwu

a take on the reader's appearance by @luffyadolover

reader trying to study ft. the batfam's endless calls &. finished art by @ghostdoodlen

reader finding bruce and damian watching a movie by @luffyadolover

again &. again mv by @luffyadolover

reader and their playlist by @luffyadolover

a comic panel by @lucioleestolie

conner and reader flying through the skies by @ghostdoodlen

when all of a sudden, i hear this agitating noise by @punpunsonny

villain au reader by @lazyemmy

a&a oc: emile by @questionthegrapevine

graduation pic, conner comfort, and mirrors by @ghostdoodlen

neglected &. non-neglected reader by @lazyemmy

jason calling you his angel by @ghostdoodlen

alfred gives you a christmas gift by @luffyadolover

my own art teehee by me

male reader interpretation by @yukiyee-akian

dick being clingy by @lazyemmy

brutus reader interpretation by @plkjnb

reader cosplaying as mabel pines by @mothintheskies

— TAGLIST ! ; taglist is under construction!

@.lilyalone, @.secretomelettetroops, @.earlqurl, @.simpingfor-wakasa, @.amber-content, @.ruiroku, @.okaybutfullhomo, @.trasshy-artist, @.obsessedwithromance, @.jjsmeowthie, @.fairy-lenaa, @.ilovvmyhusband, @.6uuyuuhgy, @.plsfckmedxddy, @.lavender-moony, @.sweetheart-era, @.chemicalsandghosts, @.darling006, @.starringyau, @.samanthahanes, @.rosecentury, @.jaythes1mp, @.pi1nkl0ver, @.i-thirsty-boy, @.sharks-are-cool-l, @.silverklaus, @.samanthathanes, @.traumaramacenter, @.maddimoon, @.anxrq, @.thedarknesslord, @.h0rr0r-10ver-69, @.lazy-idate, @.cupids-pretty-boy, @.alishii, @.mel-star636, @.sitepathos, @.freakyotaku059-blog, @.dirtydiavolo, @.sunbleachedantlers, @.24hrsoflanii, @.ceramic-raven, @.une-lueur-dans-la-nuit, @.tdickensstuff4, @.thickerthanthieves, @.arlandvery, @.distressed-lezbo, @.bunbunboysworld, @.bellethesleepypotato, @.naina326, @.nebuluma, @.alliwantisadonut, @.alishii, @.kusakiguzen, @.sirenetheblogger, @.emmbny, @.ryukyuin, @.solkara, @.starsdotalk

[mostly-marvel-musings]

The suit stays on

A/N: What? How’d this happen? I don’t even know. But it did. Here it is. I am back in the Jackman-verse now, voluntarily and irrevocably. I want to thank @stark-ironman for all the thirst trap pictures and encouragement 🩵 Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story!

Pairing: Hugh Jackman x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ smut. Minors DNI.

Main Masterlist

.

“Oh no, the suit stays on.”

You had whispered against his ear when he was about to strip; you were at the end of your tether watching him strut his stuff for hours wearing that criminal outfit.

The ache between your legs had got to a point where you’d lost the ability to think straight. It wasn’t like your needs weren’t satiated mere hours ago, wasn’t like you were deprived of that gorgeous body that could only have been chiseled by the Gods, no.

You were well aware of how greedy you were being, but all your sense of rationality had found its way out the door when you’d seen your man walk out in the suit. The little salt and pepper bristle only added his sex appeal, making for additional friction each time it brushed against the most sensitive parts of you.

“Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” He had grunted, wrapping a hand around your throat with enough pressure that it walked a thin line between pleasure and pain. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Only when it comes to you.” You choked, smirking as you were rewarded with everything you had hoped for.

His cock travelled to the deepest parts of you, brushing the very spot that had you seeing stars as your walls clenched around him. Lust travelled over your skin leaving trails of goose-pimples while he impaled you, stoking the fire that burned deep within your core.

You wanted the man. No. You craved him. In every way. How was one ever supposed to get enough of Hugh Jackman?

You certainly weren’t opposed when he pulled out all of a sudden, only to bend you over the nearest desk, uncaring about the mess you’d already made. A primal grunt resounded off the thin walls as he entered your sopping heat again, not holding back at all this time.

With every thrust, you gripped the edge of the table tighter until your knuckles turned white, your climax approaching quick as you felt your thighs begin to twitch involuntarily.

“I—I’m so close—” you whimpered, revelling in the way his hips snapped against yours in an urgency you both felt.

“I know. Be a good girl and come all over this cock.”

Like the most obedient of students, your body willingly obliged to his command, making the coil inside your belly snap into smithereens. Your orgasm crashed over you like a violent wave, making your walls flutter as you cried out his name.

Reality was a mere distant thought as you allowed yourself to float on a cloud of ecstasy, your heart beating erratically against your ribcage and throbbing down there. You faintly registered his cum spilling on your lower back as he climaxed, making the most sinful noises that were music to your ears.

Cleaning up consisted mostly of lazy kisses and a crafty grin that refused to leave your lips. You had gotten your way again and you both knew it would continue in the future.

What do we think? It’s my first time writing for this man. (Will it be the last? Idk yet) ALSO I CAN’T WITH THIS LOOK 🫠

[jinnie-ret]

carry you

seungmin x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: just angsty, smile insecurity, mention of hate comments

word count: 1.3k

summary: at a low point, seungmin finds out how much reader has been supporting him, no matter what. it fills him with a warmth that is nearly searing him from the inside, but he would have it no other way.

requested: @skzoologist

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Being an idol, Seungmin knew that he was bound to get hate, he wasn't stupid. However, when a part of him that was so natural, so pure, began to be picked apart by malicious commenters on the internet, there was no way he could control the way his brain believed it was true.

Why was it so wrong for him to smile when something made him happy? Why was it met with disgust when he simply smiled at something that made him laugh? Joy came to Seungmin just as easy as it was filling his lungs with air. It didn't matter what it was, whether he was messing around with his members or spending time hanging out with his best friend, he felt the muscles in his face twitch and his lips quirk upwards. But now, it was just as easy for his hand to instinctively cover the bottom half of his face, and it was much harder to avoid that feeling of suffocating.

Tears slowly raced down Seungmin's cheeks, fighting their way to be the first one to land on his phone screen displaying a multitude of hateful comments. The guy couldn't help himself. He purposefully searched his name, the word 'smile' and the word 'ugly' to have his new insecurity reaffirmed to him. In a sick and twisted way, he now needed validation to himself that the development of what he saw as a fault, was still circulating the internet by accounts that claimed themselves to be a stay. A part of him wished that someone could take it all away. He felt as if he had been doing so well in growing his confidence over the years of being in Stray Kids, yet he fell hook, line and sinker to just one person pointing out something about his appearance. And now, he couldn't get enough of it.

He was sat alone, curled up in the lounge of his best friend's apartment whilst she went to change into comfy clothes, or do her nighttime routine, something like that. Seungmin couldn't remember. His mind was elsewhere. Different to how he usually acted, when he'd succumb to the plush grey cushions on the luxurious sofa and end up falling asleep, he was instead fixated on the blue light from his device.

"Hey Mong-Mong," his best friend grinned as she curled up on the other end of her sofa, mirroring him close enough but not fully.

"Hey loser," Seungmin joked as he pretended to yawn for an excuse to wipe his eyes and have his face a bit red.

"You alright?" she asked in concern, acting different from her usual feisty self of fighting back against his comments.

She was always there to support him. From when he was a trainee, experiencing his first win at Music Bank, to celebrating his achievements overseas too, like when he went to the Met Gala. His best friend was always there, whether it was physically, in spirit or through an uncharacteristically cute message through text. She was a hype woman at heart, really.

"Yeah, just tired. It's so hard being an idol," Seungmin fake chuckled, removing his hands from his face yet pulling at the toggles of his hoodie to scrunch the fabric around his face more.

There was certainly some truth in that statement.

"Did Chan tell you off for calling him old again?" she smirked at him, kicking his foot til he made a sound of annoyance.

"Yah! Who's side are you on?"

His side. She always was. With valiant effort she was sure she could pull him back to the brighter side of life, so he was able to shine again, and his smile too. She wasn't oblivious. As someone who was chronically online, she was very well versed in being a Stay, and had seen other true fans upset about what they heard about Seungmin from antis, and also from how they'd seen it affect him. So, gradually, she tried to boost his mood, easing in comments about his smile amongst many other compliments she'd give him.

"I'm so jealous, Puppy. Your skin is glowing, the hair is hairing and the teeth are shining. Tell me your secrets and Jeongin doesn't have to get hurt!"

Ok so maybe she did threaten to take a pair of scissors to her Jeongin photo card, but it got a laugh out of him, even if it caused her great pain to hold a precious item at ransom.

It was later, instead of sooner, that Seungmin felt a change within himself. He felt lighter, warmer, happier. Although his bad habit had not completely stopped, he felt himself reaching out for his phone for a bedtime scroll less and less. That was all because she was there to help him not care. She really did carry him out of his hateful thoughts.

"You take care of yourself so well, look at how you've done your hair today, bright smile as always, and look at the fittttt!" she boasted about her best friend, to her best friend, standing up in front of his nonchalant form that was once again, right at home on her sofa.

She should give him a spare key at this rate.

"You want something," Seungmin rose and eyebrow in suspicion at her cheeky smile.

"Nope. No. No I don't. Why you lying Seungmin? I know you're lying," she nearly pressed her face up right against his as she theatrically and drastically changed her tone.

"Don't gaslight me," Seungmin groaned, shutting his eyes and pushing her away by her forehead.

"I would never do that," she smiled sweetly, dumping herself on the sofa.

"Stoppp! You want something, I swear," Seungmin smiled slightly, shaking his head at her antics.

"I just want my Seungminnie happy all the time," she pinched his cheeks, and just for fun she threw a little bit of aegyo in there to really harness a bigger reaction.

"First of all, never do that again. Like, seriously... that was gross. Second of all, you're asking a lot there," he leant his head back on the sofa, feeling exasperated yet humoured at the same time.

"I am. But I like seeing it. That cute smile-!" she moved quickly to pinch his cheeks again but he swatted her away.

"Noona!" Seungmin whined, still holding his arms out in front of him in pure defense.

"Aish, I'm literally a year older than you don't call me that," she shivered.

"You act just like my noona," Seungmin sighed through his nostrils.

"Hmm your noona seems smart. I miss her. I haven't seen her in ages. Maybe she'll be my new bestie," she teased him.

Seungmin laughed in disbelief, gaining a moment of peace when he saw her go quiet and just admire his face.

"Ahhh I knew it!!!" Seungmin lifted off of his seat, pointing at her in what she supposed was elation.

"Hmm? Oh you know something? That's really shocked me," she taunted him.

"Shut up, pabo. You've been trying to make me laugh this whole time!" Seungmin clapped his hands as he explained his thoughts out loud.

"Yes. And I won. Oh stays will love me so much," she started shimmying, a weird little celebration dance but Seungmin loved it nevertheless.

"Stays would think you're a nuisance," Seungmin kicked her leg lightly with a louder laugh, playfully raising his fists and pretending to try and box her.

She had been there the whole time lifting his spirits. He didn't have to bluntly say it then and there but there was a mutual understanding that she had done all she could to get him to smile and realise the beauty in such a simple thing. It was sad that people had stopped him but she had worked hard against that and was successful in the mean time.

And so the world saw the beauty in him again, that she had seen all along.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @leonchansblog26 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @michelle4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly0789 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari

[wheresarizona]

Thunder (only happens when it’s rainin’)

summary: In the middle of the night, during a bad thunderstorm, Javier helps you through a fear-induced panic attack. 

rating: T (Javier POV, age gap (about ten years), Husband Javier Peña, panic attack (physical descriptions only), emotional hurt/comfort, Javier calming you down, thunderstorm, banter, domestic fluff, suggestive mention of Javier’s dick, Javier offering to help you fall back asleep by either reading you The Fellowship of the Ring or a smutty book)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (a nurse with no physical descriptions)

word count: 1.2k+

a/n: This can be read as a standalone or part of the Learning to Live ‘verse—in LTL, it takes place a few months after their wedding. This one goes out to the anon who asked how Javi would help Cielito through a panic attack. He’d use this method or a variation of it any time she has a panic/anxiety attack. This is unbeta’d; all mistakes are my own. 

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Laredo, Texas - March, 1999

The window-shaking boom of thunder isn’t what has Javier jolting awake in bed and bolting upright to turn on his bedside lamp. It’s the blood-curdling scream beside him that’s like a shot of adrenaline with how it wakes him from the dead of sleep with his heart pounding and has him blearily looking around the dimly lit room for any sign of danger. 

Their bedroom door is still closed, and there are no intruders; rain can be heard battering against their windows, and when he focuses on his wife next to him, she’s also sitting up, worry cutting through him at how her breaths are coming out too fast and shallow as she hyperventilates, and tears stain her cheeks—she’s having a panic attack, triggered by the storm. Where she grew up, it rains the majority of the year, but they don’t have many thunderstorms, unlike right now when it’s Spring in Texas and severe weather season—it’s not the storms that scare her; it’s the loud noise that gets her. 

He’s scooting closer to her, pressing his big palm to her shirt-covered back, rubbing little circles, his voice husky and soft as he says, “We’re okay, Cielito—you’re okay.” Javier reaches with his other hand to take her smaller one into his, putting it on his bare chest over his heart where he knows she can feel it thudding. “Focus on me, baby—look at me.” Her head turns his way, and he’s met with panicked eyes and glistening cheeks. “Feel my heartbeat. You feel how it’s beating?” She’s still breathing too fast. “Focus on the beat—you feel it?” he asks again, and she looks at their hands. “Thud, thud, thud…” he repeats at the same rhythm of his heart. 

The therapist he’s been seeing for a while now taught him some techniques for when he has his occasional panic attacks, and right now, he’s trying to help ground her.

“See,” he says. “I’m right here, baby—you’re okay. I promise we’re gonna get through this. What are five things you can see?” 

“You,” she answers between heavy breaths.

“There’s one.” 

“Hand...” Her eyes move down. “Blanket…” Her head turns toward their bedroom door. “Door… Dresser...” 

“That’s it, Cielito.” He’s still rubbing her back reassuringly. “Tell me four things you can hear.” 

“You…” she says. “Fan…” Their small fan on his dresser by the door they use for white noise at night. “Rain…” Thunder rumbles in the distance, and her body tenses, a small whimper leaving her, and Javier’s hand on her back moves to hug her against him. She whispers, “Thunder…” 

“It’s moving away, baby,” he tells her. “Sounds like it just passed by. You’re doing so good for me—name three things you can touch.” She’s beginning to calm down, her breathing is slowing. 

“You…” There’s movement under the sheets of her wiggling her feet. “Blankets… Me.” 

“Good.” He kisses the side of her head. “What are two things you can smell?” 

“You… Candle…” They had a vanilla-scented candle burning before they went to bed.

Her breaths even out, and he knows she’s focused on him based on her answers. 

“There we go.” The following crack of thunder is so quiet that it’s barely heard over the rain outside and the whirring of their fan. “I think the worst of it is over—tell me one thing you can taste.” 

He’s sitting close enough to her that the sides of their bodies are touching. He’s got one arm around her back, keeping her against him, and his other hand still holding hers over his heart. 

Her face turns his way, and she lightly bites his shoulder, speaking with her mouth open, “You.”

Yeah, she’s calmed. He smiles. 

“Do I taste good, mi amor (my love)?” 

She’s still biting him. “Yes.” 

“Are you feeling better?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help you fall back asleep?”

Her mouth finally leaves him, and she meets his gaze, her eyes rounded. “Can I lay on your chest while you read to me?” 

Something she enjoys and relaxes her. 

He leans in to kiss her tenderly and asks against her lips, “Fellowship of the Ring—” What he’s currently re-reading for probably the thirtieth time. “—or whatever that book is you were reading last night that got you so hot and bothered you begged for my dick?” 

She broke away to look at him once more, and he let go of her hand to use his thumb to wipe away the remnants of the tears from her cheek. 

“As great as it’d be to have you narrate my smut,” she replies, “it’s gotta be Lord of the Rings ‘cause I am so fucking tired, like so tired, and queasy—I think I’m getting whatever that bug is that’s going around the hospital—" She’s a nurse at the local hospital. “—and I really don’t appreciate the stupid thunderstorm interrupting my beauty sleep.” 

Her answer makes him frown, and he presses the back of his fingers to her forehead. 

“You don’t feel warm…” he says. That doesn’t mean she isn’t coming down with something. “I’ll stop by the store on my way home tomorrow and pick up stuff to make you caldo.” The soup his mom always made when he or his dad were sick.

“That’d be nice, but,” she emphasizes, “food has been pretty hit or miss over the last week, so if it makes me puke, I swear on my ABBA Souper Trouper record—” Her favorite and most prized that she’s had since its release in 1980. “—it has nothing to do with your mother’s recipe and is just whatever the fuck this sickness is.” 

“I know, baby,” he replies and kisses her forehead. ��Let me fix the pillows, and I’ll read to you.” 

When he starts to move, her hand quickly grabs his arm to stop him, and he turns his attention back to her. 

“Javi?” 

“Yes, mi amor?” 

“Thank you for calming me down.” Her eyes dart away. “Texas summers are literally hell, but for all of the years I lived in Dallas before coming here, I hated Spring the most because of the storms—what I’m saying is this isn’t the first time thunder has woken me up in the middle of the night and caused me to freak out.” The thought of her alone and scared makes his chest ache, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could’ve been there with her. “It’s happened before,” she continues, “and I always had to ride it out on my own. So, thank you for being here and helping me. Don’t get me wrong, it majorly sucked, but it was nice not having to go through it alone.”

He caresses her cheek to make her look at him, and he smiles. “I can promise you, you’ll never have to go through it alone again. I’ll always be here to help you, just like how you’re always there when my brain’s being an asshole because I love you, Cielito.” 

She matches his look. “I love you, too, Javi.” She quickly pecked him on the lips. “Two months, and you continue to reign supreme as Husband of the Year.” 

“And am I living up to my other title?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Which one? ‘Cause Sexiest Man Alive, yes, you’ve got ‘99 in the bag. God of Sex, also yes, and I remain your devoted devotee. And you’re definitely living up to being the Hunkiest Hunk to Ever Hunk; no one will ever be able to out-hunk you, babe.” 

“Good.” 

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[padfootagain]

Love in verses (XXVI)

Chapter 26: ‘Well, how else are you to live except by denial’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is one of my favourites, just… some adorable stuff!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4227

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Earl

In Sitka, because they are fond of them, People have named the seals. Every seal is named Earl because they are killed one after another by the orca, the killer whale; seal bodies tossed left and right into the air. “At least he didn’t get Earl,” someone says. And sure enough, after a time, that same friendly, bewhiskered face bobs to the surface. It’s Earl again. Well, how else are you to live except by denial, by some palatable fiction, some little song to sing while the inevitable, the black and white blindsiding fact, comes hurtling toward you out of the deep?

Louis Jenkins

The pain in your abdomen was a sensation you were used to, sadly. You recognized the pattern in the intensity, you knew it perfectly after years of suffering once a month. This month seemed to be particularly nasty though, and there was little doubt on to why. Your stress was so high these days, between your new job, your research, your career, and Frank’s bloody wedding… You were drowning, to be fair. Drowning in an ocean of emotions. You bent in front of your sink, waiting for the wave of pain to fade again, closing tightly your eyes, while the microwave beeped with the heating pad now reaching a burning temperature. You placed it on your stomach, not caring about your skin, only about the pain under it.

Damn… that was a bad month…

You stood straighter again, letting out a long and careful exhale, relaxing once more. Your head was spinning a little, but you didn’t dare to eat too much for now, your nausea was too bad and you didn’t want to end up throwing up. You settled for a bit of rice and an apple for lunch.

You were supposed to see Andrew this afternoon, but there was no way you could plan on fucking up Frank’s appointment at the tailor when it was hard to stand… At least, it was the weekend, you didn’t have to deal with work, and could spend your day being a burrito on your couch while watching TV and eating junk food.

You were supposed to shop for groceries in the morning, but you didn’t have the strength for that either, so you decided that you would get some food delivered for the rest of the weekend and would tackle the issue of not dying of starvation on Monday.

You sat down on your couch, at long last, heaving a sigh of relief. You held the heating pad against your stomach, covered yourself with a blanket and grabbed your phone while you turned on the TV.

You pressed on Andrew’s name on whatsapp while the tu-dum noise of Netflix echoed in your living room.

You heaved a sigh…

… you had forgotten tea… never mind, you were too much in pain and too tired to be bothered making some tea now that you were seated.

Back to your phone, you typed your message quickly.

Hi Andy! Sorry, but I’m not feeling well today, gonna have to cancel for this afternoon. We’ll talk about our plans next week. Hope you have a nice weekend, see you on Monday! Xx

You pressed ‘send’ and started browsing in the list of movies available on your TV screen.

Your phone lit up with Andrew’s name.

Sorry to hear that! Are you alright? Do you want me to drop you something?

You were too tired not to acknowledge the warmth that spread in your chest as you read his text.

Nothing to worry about, don’t worry.

His answer was quick to arrive.

Are you sure? You want me to drive you to a doctor or something?

You chuckled at his obvious worry. He really was too sweet…

No, I’m okay. Period being bitches, that’s all. I can handle it.

He answered with a thumbs up right under your text, right when you found Pride and Prejudice was on Netflix…

Well, it looked like your afternoon was all set.

You cursed under your breath. You didn’t have any snacks. Not even chocolate… and your kitchen was so fucking far… a whole ten steps away…

Damn you and your stupid brain.

You were surprised when you received another text from Andy.

So, what’s planned for today? Did you get your groceries this morning?

You snorted at the mere thought.

Nah. Too much in pain. Too tired to go to the kitchen and make myself tea, so imagine going outside with people?! No, thanks.

I’m gonna spend my afternoon with Mr. Darcy instead.

You waited for his answer, ignoring your TV now.

The Keira Kinghtley movie?

You sent him a thumbs up.

Will you hate me if I admit that I’ve never watched that film?

You almost dropped your phone.

YOU’VE NEVER SEEN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE?!

OH THAT’S IT! DISHONOUR! DISHONOUR ON YOUR WHOLE FAMILY!

He sent a laughing emoji.

You’ve forgotten the dishonour on me and my cow too…

You couldn’t refrain a laugh, even though it hurt your stomach.

You don’t have a cow. But I’ll take it out on Elwood.

You could picture the grin on his face at the joke.

HOW DARE YOU! HE’S SUCH A GOOD BOY!

Elwood, my son, don’t listen to the nasty lady…

You laughed again, but quickly stopped this time, the pain getting too strong.

You didn’t think as you wrote your next text.

You could drop by and watch it with me.

You reread the text and realised your mistake; your eyes grew round. You were in your old pyjamas, you hadn’t showered and had no intention to do so, your hair was a mess, you hadn’t washed your dishes…

You wanted to delete the text, but the blue symbols under it let you know that he had already read it.

Damn it!

I mean… I’m in pain, grumpy and look like trash…

So… maybe not the most pleasant way to spend your afternoon.

Feel free to refuse.

You waited for his answer, watched the dancing dots, until a text was received.

I’d love to, actually.

Besides, I am not five, I know about menstrual cycles, thank you very much…

You bit on your lips as you hesitated.

You’ve never seen me like that.

 A pause. You guessed that he had rephrased his text several times.

Would that make you feel uncomfortable?

You thought about it for a second. Frank didn’t really pay attention to that part of you. It was cliché, but you knew he was making a conscious effort to acknowledge your period and how much of a burden they were to you. You saw it as him making an effort at the time. Now, you were worried Andrew would be the same, with typical disappointing male behaviour…

And yet, you didn’t care. You couldn’t find a way to care. You couldn’t imagine Andrew, out of all people, disappointing you on that. Perhaps it was naïve, you weren’t sure. Your answer was earnest anyway.

No

His answer came in a matter of seconds.

Give me forty minutes to come over then.

You smiled.

An hour then.

You laughed again at his answer.

Gobshite…

You didn’t select the movie for now and merely watched some crappy TV instead, with whatever was on.

You tried not to pay too much thought on how excited you were at the idea of Andy coming soon…

Andrew ended up ringing at your door an hour and fifteen minutes later, proving you right about his time blindness, and the thought made you smile. You had washed your dishes waiting for him, using a fifteen-minutes break from the pain to stretch your legs and attempt to look like a human being. The pain was soon back with full strength though, and you gave up on the idea to change into a proper outfit. You remained in your comfortable pyjamas, tied your hair up to hide the mess it was, and went back to suffering on the couch, the heating pad growing colder and less effective, but you were too tired to get up again.

You groaned as Andrew rang at your door, forcing yourself to stand. You couldn’t hold yourself completely straight, not with the pain in your stomach being now combined with a sharp stinging sensation in your lower back. You opened the door still, and welcomed Andrew with a genuine smile.

He was wearing his hair in a bun today, his glasses perched on his nose, and a warm smile on his lips as his gaze rested upon you. He looked gorgeous in a simple brown jacket, dark jeans and a black turtleneck. You couldn’t refrain the way your heart fluttered at the sight, nor the butterflies that were added to your painful stomach.

“Hey! God, you do look like shite,” he exclaimed, but there was worry in his frown despite the obvious teasing in his voice.

“Thanks for the compliment,” you stuck your tongue out, and he couldn’t refrain a chuckle.

He walked inside, took off his shoes and jacket, and it’s only when he set the bags on the floor to do so that you noticed them.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“Groceries.”

You looked up at him with a puzzled look.

“Jeez… if you were busy this afternoon, you should have declined!”

He laughed, and you were more puzzled than ever.

“These are for you,” he clarified, picking up the bags again.

You blinked up at him.

“For… me?”

“Yeah… you said you didn’t get any groceries this morning. Can’t let you starve! Come on, get a move on, these need to go in the fridge.”

You let him pass, followed him in your kitchen. He started to empty the two paper bags on your kitchen counter.

“I didn’t get you much, just enough to last for a couple of days. Pass the weekend. Nothing that needs fancy cooking either, don’t worry. Mostly pasta, rice, and a few vegetables and fruits. I also got some take out for tonight, so you don’t have to bother with cooking today. Chinese, hope you’re in the mood for that. And then, the obvious ice cream, crisps and chocolate combo. Oh, and I bought you this tea! My mom recommended it once for menstrual cramps to one of my cousins, and it’s apparently pretty nice, so… thought you could use that too.”

He looked up at you then, after his little babbling. He frowned at your expression though, and you noticed the shift in his demeanour: the way he shrank, bending over himself instead of standing straight, with his full height. Trying to look smaller than he was, to occupy as little space as possible. He rubbed nervously at his collarbone.

“I… I thought it would make things easier for you. I… I’m sorry if I’m overstepping… if you… sorry. Sorry…”

But he was interrupted by your arms around him; you almost tackled him with the strength, and you heard the loud huff he let out at the impact. It took him a couple of seconds to close his arms around you too, but then it felt like he was unwilling to ever let go.

“Thank you so much,” you mumbled into his chest. “That’s… so fucking sweet, Andy.”

“That’s nothing,” he tried to brush your thankfulness away, but you could hear in his voice that he was smiling again, feel that his body was relaxing once more. “I didn’t mean to overstep… I just… I just thought it would make it easier for you.”

You spotted your favourite chocolate on the table, along with some ice-cream.

“These are my favourite,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“You didn’t have to do that…”

“It’s nothing.”

You didn’t say it. You didn’t say that Frank had never done that for you. And Andrew did? When he wasn’t your boyfriend? When he didn’t even have feelings for you?

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, rubbing your back, and the caress was so soothing you were ready to cry. “Painkillers or something? I can go to the pharmacy…”

“I’ve got that covered, don’t worry. Thank you.”

“Right…”

Another cramp came breaking your embrace, you let out a groan as you held your painful stomach. You tried not to think of how your heart stumbled and missed a few beats when Andrew brushed a messy strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You really don’t look well. You should sit down.”

“I need to reheat my heating pad…”

“I’ll do it. I’ll do that, love. Sit down, okay?”

‘Love’… he had called you ‘love’… You wanted to cry…

Why were you so affected by it? It was Andy. It was Andy, not Frank, and you wanted Frank, you wanted Frank, you wanted…

He walked into the living room about 10 minutes later, carrying your heating pad under his arm, ice cream and some chocolate. He had to go back to the kitchen to fetch your two cups of tea.

“Alright… need anything else?”

You shook your head, and he settled on the sofa next to you. Readjusted the blanket so it would cover your feet. You didn’t recognise the flavour of the tea, you reckoned he had made a cup of the one his mother had recommended.

You refused to name the feeling that was spreading across your entire body, the unbearable fondness aimed at Andrew that came with it.

I want Frank, I want Frank, I want Frank…

“Alright, let’s watch Mr. Darcy getting rejected…” he grinned at you, as if he was at his happiest, as if he couldn’t have thought of a better way to spend his afternoon than to watch Pride and Prejudice with you while nursing you back to health because you were on your period…

You scoffed, trying to hide the tears in your eyes by looking for the movie on Netflix again.

“He doesn’t just get rejected. They do get together at the end, you know?”

“Thanks for spoiling it all to me…”

“Wait… you told me you read the book…”

He laughed.

“I did! I was joking, like… It was a joke. I did read it. I simply haven’t watched any adaptation.”

“Wow… Oh… so you haven’t seen the one with Colin Firth either?! The BBC series?”

“Nope…” he answered, popping the ‘p’ before taking a sip of his tea.

Two teabags. As always. The detail made you smile.

“Okay, that is going to be our next activity together.”

He laughed, but didn’t contradict you, on the contrary.

“Well, I guess my next Sunday is all booked…”

“Indeed, it is!” you grinned, but your tone was too soft not to show how emotional the thought of spending another afternoon like this with Andrew made you feel.

He didn’t comment on that, though, and you were grateful for it.

He reached for your coffee table, where he had put the two sets of ice-cream and spoons, and handed you one.

Your heating pad was back on your stomach, warm and effectively soothing your cramps. You seized the opportunity to eat a large spoonful of chocolate ice cream.

You moaned at the taste.

“Andy… this is perfect, I hope you’re aware of how amazing you are.”

He chuckled, but there was something a little sad in his eyes when he looked down at his food, a tinge of melancholy. You didn’t know why.

“Bribing you with chocolate is the way to your heart, then,” he joked, clearly stirring the conversation away from himself, while pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes, starting the film.

You exchanged another smile, while the movie started. You didn’t realise your own movements as you scooted closer to him on the couch, and neither did he notice how he leaned towards you, until your arms were softly touching.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul. And I love… I love… I love you…”

You heaved a sigh after whispering the words in sync with Mr. Darcy, clutching at your heart, burying your face further in Andrew’s shoulder.

You weren’t sure when you had ended up in Andrew’s arms, but you were now. He had wrapped an arm around your shoulders at one point, noticing how livid you had become because of the pain, how you had tried to withhold your wince but failed. And it was meant as a temporary anchor, a soothing gesture that should have lasted just a few minutes, until the pain subsided again. But when you relaxed once more, he didn’t pull away, and instead of freeing yourself from his hold, you leaned closer, sank deeper into his embrace. And now, he was resting his long fingers on your waist, while you leaned into his chest.

Which was… better not think about boundaries and friendship and professional behaviour and all those limits you were breaking.

Meanwhile, Andrew was brushing a tear away, but you spotted it before he could pretend it hadn’t happened.

“I know… I know…” you patted his chest, trying not to notice that you were touching his chest. “I cry every time too.”

“For proof,” he chuckled, brushing your tear away with his thumb, making your heart stutter and expand to the point that you wondered how it hadn’t broken any of your ribs yet.

“It’s Jane Austen’s superpower, Andy… we can do nothing against it,” you concluded before nuzzling into his chest again.

“I’ll have to agree,” he nodded.

You noticed how his breathing was a little irregular for a moment, when you shifted to be a little more comfortable in his arms, but he didn’t push you away, didn’t move at all, in fact. Instead, he waited for you to settle again, readjusted the blanket on both of you, and stared at the end of the movie. His cheeks were turning a bright shade of red. You hated the thought that crossed your mind…

There were but a couple of minutes left, it was the end: Mr. Darcy had walked across the moor already, he had declared his love and Elizabeth had accepted his hand in marriage. They were waiting for Elizabeth’s father. You were staring at Andrew, the feeling of your gaze on him made him look down as well, catching your eyes with his. His hazel eyes, they looked so green now, in the rather bright light of the late afternoon, and the tears he had dried just before had enhanced that colour too. Green… like leaves bathed in sunlight during the summer… you loved that shade…

You didn’t even notice when the screen went dark, when the credits started rolling. You were thinking of Andrew, of how sweet he had been all afternoon, of how handsome he looked now, how much turtlenecks suited him, how cute he looked with his glasses…

He blinked a couple of times, as if he were coming back from a reverie, and looked at the TV again. You looked at his profile, found yourself longing to run your fingers through his short beard, noticed the red tainting the brown of his hair.

“Well, that was an amazing film,” he easily admitted, bringing you back to earth.

And indeed, the story was over. Mr. Bennett had accepted their union. Elizabeth would marry Mr. Darcy. All ended well. Black screen and a list of names, printed in white pixels…

You pushed yourself out of Andrew’s arms.

Back to reality now… and in the real world, you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank. You wanted Frank…

You looked away in a hurry, and trembled at the loss of contact, when Andrew finally moved his hand away from your waist.

You kept on talking about the film for a while, but eventually, Andrew checked the time.

“I should get going, let you get something to eat. And I mean… something proper. Not snacks,” he teased, standing up and taking the remnants of your various snacks with him to the kitchen.

And you had to tell yourself that mantra again. Because your heart was aching at the thought of Andrew leaving. Which was ridiculous because you would see him in two days. Which was ridiculous because he was only a friend. A colleague, even. And it was ridiculous because you didn’t want him, you wanted Frank. You loved Frank. You wanted the life you had with him back. You… you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank… You… You wanted…

“Andy?”

He reappeared, coming from the kitchen, and tilted his head a little as a silent invitation for you to speak again.

“Do… do you want to stay for dinner?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, long enough for you to start spiralling and babbling…

“Unless you need to take care of Elwood…”

“No, my parents took him to the seaside today, they’re keeping him for the night. He’s living his best life, trust me. I bet my dad is giving him all the treats he wants.”

“Or like… I mean… you’ve already spent your afternoon with me, even if I’m sick and not the best company today, and… yeah, I totally get it if you don’t want to stay, like… that’s…”

“Y/N.”

“Hmmm?”

“I’d love to stay.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I’m too much to take care of…

You merely shrugged in response, making him chuckle, clearly unaware of your thoughts.

“Well, if you’re not bored of me yet, I’d love to stay for dinner.”

You grinned.

“Grand…” you nodded, and Andrew disappeared in the kitchen again to prepare dinner.

Still, you noticed how he was smiling when he turned around, how he was blushing, too…

You ended up watching tv again after dinner. The pain wasn’t as vivid as it had been during the rest of the day, and so you were more comfortable during that part of the evening. So much so that you started dozing off, as you were watching for the nth time how Luke and Han were trying to save Leia.

You had stumbled upon a rerun of the old Star Wars movies, and settled on the nostalgic feeling of these stories to end the day. Andrew was supposed to go home after the end of the movie, once the Death Star was gone and Leia was placing medals on the heroes’ chest.

Andrew had made you laugh with his best impression of Chewbacca, and you had made him choke on his glass of water with one of your jokes and snarky remarks. It was lovely, but you were so tired you neared exhaustion by now. So, it was quite logical that you started dozing off after a while, losing tracks of the story when Han and Luke were dressed as stormtroopers.

You hadn’t noticed that your head had fallen on Andrew’s shoulder as you were falling asleep. You didn’t notice how he stopped paying attention to the movie when you did. How his heart started pounding at how adorable you looked like this. He waited for a few minutes, to see if you would stir and wake up again, but you didn’t. He stared at you for a moment longer, but you weren’t aware of it. You weren’t aware either of the longing in his gaze, of the smile on his lips as he watched how peaceful you looked in your sleep.

You blinked your eyes open again only when you felt something slipping under your knees and behind your back, felt the warmth upon which your head rested move.

“Andy?” you called in your drowsy state, still unable to understand what was happening, where you were…

“I’m here, love.”

That pet name again… were you dreaming it?

You reached up, held onto a soft fabric, and somehow, despite the fact that you had closed your eyes once more, you knew it was Andrew’s turtleneck.

“You’re falling asleep, you need to go to bed,” he said softly, his voice unbearably low and deep, it made your heart skip a few beats and warmth spread across your entire frame.

And it sounded so reassuring… so safe… He was so reassuring…

You nuzzled into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. His cologne, his softener, him…

“Can I help you reach your bed? Can I do that? Is that okay?” he asked in the same caring voice, and you nodded. But then again, you would have accepted anything, for as long as you could remain in his warmth, as long as his voice came back…

You realised then that he was slipping his arms under you, it took a moment longer for your brain to register he meant to carry you.

“I can walk,” you whispered, opening your eyes again and forcing yourself to look at him.

You were too stunned when he bent down to kiss your hair to argue when he told you there was no need, that he got you, that you could close your eyes again. You obeyed, having no strength left to argue, and you wrapped your arms around his neck when he stood up and lifted you off the couch.

He readjusted your position, and then you were vaguely aware of moving, while he walked through your apartment. You nuzzled closer, your forehead brushing his jaw and your entire body trembled as you felt his beard against your skin.

Too soon, he was gently putting you down on your comfortable mattress, tucking you in, under your warm blanket.

You blinked your eyes open before he could leave, found his hazel eyes looking down at you. He seemed so tall like this, standing above your bed.

“Thank you, Andy. For everything.”

He smiled, gesture gentle and full of fondness.

“Sleep well, Y/N. Goodnight.”

He tucked a strand of your hair away from your face, and the brush of his fingers across your cheek made you close your eyes for good.

Your last thoughts were of him, while you heard him move away from the bed, recognized the creaking of the tiles by the door of your bedroom.

God, you wanted him so much…

[shakingparadigm]

Speaking of Guardians, I'm just going to make a list on the information I have on the ones associated with the main cast so far.

Note: the information here is mostly from official material (patreon interviews, merch, the videos themselves etc) but some portions of it are my own assumptions based on this information as well.

Mizi -> Guardian Shine

Guardian Shine is a prominently pink and white alien that wears a peaceful expression and bears resemblance to certain aquatic creatures, most predominantly associated with the jellyfish. Their body largely consists of floaty pink frills.

Guardian Shine is the only alien of the main cast that is explicitly stated to have a close and loving relationship with their human pet, treating Mizi like a "daughter" and ensuring that she is happy and well-provided for.

Guardian Shine created Mizi's performance dress for ROUND 1.

It seemed that whenever Mizi accomplished something good in the Anakt Garden, she would become ecstatic and excited to tell Guardian Shine about her victories.

Sua -> Guardian ???

Not much is known or seen about Sua's Guardian (the information isn't public, at least), but from the glimpses we see in MIZISUA, her Guardian is a rather luxurious and feminine alien with clawed, ring-laden hands and a lower half akin to a flower-patterned dress. It seems as though they are wearing a pale-colored fur coat.

In the disc:mizisua artbook, its stated that Sua was raised by influencers, which seems to be why her Guardian is dressed so lavishly.

Sua's Guardian did not particularly care for her, only raising her as a means to "show off".

While Guardian Shine warmly entertains Mizi before her departure, Sua's Guardian has their back turned and is instead busied with an interview (as seen by the alien holding the microphone next to them).

Because Sua's Guardian didn't care for her and only raised her for public image, they dressed Sua in doll-like clothes without care as to how it would fit her. The book states that despite it's lovely look, Sua's dress was stuffy and ill-fitting.

Till -> Guardian Urak

Guardian Urak (in earlier iterations) is a humanoid alien with a predominantly white color scheme, most recognizable by a covered upper face and floating chair. (I highly suspect the alien from ROUND 6's first verse to be the new Guardian Urak design, but I could be wrong.)

Similar to Sua's, Guardian Urak seems rather neglectful and maybe even physically abusive to Till, as seen by the multiple bruises left on him even before he's thrown at the wall. If the head alien in ROUND 6 is confirmed to be Urak, this is further proven by the first few scenes.

In an interview for a magazine portion of ROUND 2, Guardian Urak is shown to be easily dismissive of Till's misbehavior as long as it garners them a win.

Guardian Urak believes that a human's bizarre behavior is synonymous with their talent. "The more talented humans, the more likely they are to be freaks." Urak apologizes for Freddie's murder on Till's behalf, but doesn't seem to care about it beyond the surface level.

Urak barely seems to invest much into Till, at least not as much as the other Guardians do for their own pets. Till's stage in ROUND 2 is the most plain, unlike the other rounds where the stages are unique and decorated with different designs and lights. Till's outfits are also the most plain among the cast.

Ivan -> Guardian ???

Ivan's Guardian is a large, slightly Cthulhu-like alien dressed in dapper clothing, which many fans find akin to that of a mafia boss. They are dressed in colors of mainly red and black, a color scheme that their followers seem to align with as well.

Ivan's Guardian is well-known in alien society. Due to this, Ivan makes sure to behave carefully and properly while out in public as not to sully their name.

It also seems as though they are incredibly wealthy, seemingly involved in a business of some sort.

Ivan describes the relationship with his Guardian to be more like a business partnership rather than something parental.

Ivan's Guardian seems to have invested a lot into Ivan's success. Adopting him from the slums, cleaning him and remaking his image from a lowly slum child to one of the most famous, talented, and influential humans of the current season. Ivan states in an interview that he will always be grateful to them for taking him in.

Due to the investment, Ivan's performances are always of high quality, his costumes intricately made and his stages flamboyantly themed.

Since their relationship stands on business, it's most likely that Ivan was able to connect and partner with several brands due to his Guardian.

Ivan's relationship with his Guardian seems mutual, Ivan himself states it's "not bad". His Guardian provides him with what he needs to succeed and in return Ivan is obedient and always excels at what he's assigned to do. It seems as though Ivan's Guardian is often pleased with him, patting his head when he passes preliminaries and gathering other aliens to celebrate. One of the aliens even presents a bouquet of flowers, clapping their hands together.

Luka -> Guardian Heperu

Guardian Heperu is an alien with a round, squat head, bulging eyes and a pronounced neck. They seem to don a robe of some sort, paired together with a small hat.

Guardian Heperu seems to be yet another influential figure in alien society, possessing the resources necessary to invest in Luka's intensive training.

They also ensure that Luka's performances are always phenomenal, going so far as to rent out a special site for ROUND 5 (iirc, they performed ROUND 5 on the corpse of a large and powerful alien, hence the spine and bones you can see in the back of certain shots).

Guardian Heperu is an extremely envious figure who wished for a pet to trump all others, to stand above all the competitors unmatched.

Luka's unnatural conception and strict training is a result of Heperu's insecurity, the need to remain at the top constantly. Perhaps this desire ended up seeping into Luka as well.

Luka never fought back against the aliens, most likely because Heperu conditioned him to be the epitome of performative perfection since birth. How Luka interacted with his fellow humans was irrelevant, what mattered was how he interacted with the aliens who's opinions were of far greater worth. This may be why Luka seemed to be an outcast in the Anakt Garden yet a beloved prince in the eyes of the alien audience.

Luka directly refers to Heperu as "Father".

Hyuna -> Guardian ???

So far, Hyuna is the only character without even a sliver of alien connection. It makes sense, of course. She cut herself off from everything so long ago.

However, a sketch of Hyuna's alien was drafted all the way back during the production of Sweet Dream.

I'm not gonna spoil anything, but let me just say that's one hell of an alien.

Hopefully we get to see them soon!

[darksisterk]

Let’s get this straight in HOTD ship discourse:

Out of all the so-called “perverted” ships in the show, we could name quite a few to be honest.. Daemon/Rhaenyra’s age-gap is close to 20 years apart. We had scenes of them with implied sexual tension even when Rhaenyra was only 14 in episode 1, yet no one seemed to have a problem with that. Viserys/Alicent..we won’t even talk about the age-gap between these two because it’s just absurd, but it is an arranged marriage. Yet again, most people don’t seem to have a problem with this.

Aemond/Alys, or Daemon/Alys, the largest age-gap thus far considering Gayle Rankin claims that Alys is nearly 400 years old beneath her glimmer.

Lastly Aemond/Lucerys, these two have the least of the age-gaps as they are only 3 years apart and yet people still call this the most “monstrous” of all the ships in show-verse. I get it, Elliot, who plays Luke is far younger than Ewan, so the age disparity is more obvious than it should be in canon, but so was Matt Smith and Milly Alcock when they portrayed Daemon/Rhaenyra…Let’s be real though, the main reason people are offended by this pairing is because it’s a queer ship. Had Lucerys been a girl there wouldn’t be near as much affront. I know a lot of talented, amazing individuals who have written for this ship..particularly aged-up Aemond/Lucerys and none of them deserve the hate directed towards them nor their work when there are far more disturbing ships in the show. Not everyone who supports this pairing condone fanart/works portraying the underage actor. So let’s stop acting like everyone who ships Lucerys/Aemond is demon spawn for seven hells sake. 🤝

[shadowsndaisies]

athena; the preamble

WC: 3k

synopsis: athena at a glance basically

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: i know I should be working on cnng, but this idea has just fully taken root. the brain rot is real.... please come talk to me about it... please

Having Maverick for a dad is exactly what it sounds like.

He played fast and loose with the rules of the Navy, which made him a highly decorated captain, but at the end of the day, he had two loves in his life, the Navy and his daughter. Despite the risks he took and the chances he played with, you never doubted your dad's love. You did, however, have to learn to speak his language.

That meant early mornings in the hangar, learning how to fix up engines and motors of relics. It meant doing homework on base after school. It meant learning ranks and callsigns as a kid. And so you did. You did it all. You learned poker and swindled more than a few Navy men before you'd even hit puberty. You smiled pretty for every commanding officer your father's managed to piss off. It also meant developing a need for speed.

Having Maverick for a dad meant being on edge every time he got deployed. It meant spending his deployments with Uncle Ice and Aunt Sarah and your summers with Aunt Carole and Bradley.

Every deployment that fell during the school year was spent based out of the Kazansky house. You didn't mind too much. Uncle Ice and your dad always had each other's back, a bond forged in loss, that much you knew. Aunt Sarah acted like a mom; she cooked hot meals and taught you how to make some of your favorites. You spent time with their kids and went to school with them, too. It was fun spending time with Ryan and Elizabeth Kazansky. Ryan was about five years younger than you but a ball of energy, and little Lizzie was a planner and was often your partner in crime despite being eight years younger than you.

There were the odd in-betweens when your dad would have someone he trusted enough to watch you. That being said, you'd only ever spent a few deployments with someone not named Bradshaw or Kazansky; the exception was always one woman, Penny Benjamin.

You weren't an idiot.

Having Pete Mitchell for a dad meant wising up quick. Meant quick humor and a reckless streak that you had to work twice as hard to overcorrect and suppress because you both knew he'd never be the one to police you on it. It meant a semi-stable home life but so much love and too many role models. It also meant a fluctuating Penny.

Penny, who met your dad years before you were born. Penny, who you knew your dad loved and who loved your dad, even though they never seemed to get their timing right. Penny, who taught you how to sail, throw a proper punch, and French braid. Who showed you how to open a beer bottle without an opener in several different ways, using a belt buckle, a spoon, and your house keys? Penny, who was.. a mom. As much as you are reluctant to admit it publicly, Penny Benjamin was probably the closest thing you had to a mom because even though Aunt Sarah loved you and cared for you like she did with Elizabeth, she was always Aunt Sarah, never Mom. Even Aunt Carole, who was your godmother, could never truly fill the void of mother even though you know she tried her best to help you with the parts you missed out on. Penny was the only one who came close, at least when she was around she was.

Summers, though, were your favorite. Whether or not your dad was on deployment, you spent every summer in Virginia with the Bradshaws. You had a room that Carole always referred to as "little Miss Mitchell's room" and a best friend who taught you so much more about life.

Bradley.

Bradley, who taught you how to swing a bat and throw a football. Bradley, who gave you your first driving lesson when your dad got deployed before he could. Bradley, who you talked with weekly when you weren't living under the same roof. Bradley, who let you make fun of his name when you needed an easy out, Brad Brad, had been the running joke.

Bradley always had your back; he piggybacked you home when you skinned your knees during your skater girl summer. He took you out of the way to your favorite ice cream place whenever you had cramps and planted himself on the sofa with you to watch Sabrina, the Teenage Witch, and I Dream of Jeanie when you refused to move. Bradley, who ate the things you cooked when you'd test out Aunt Sarah's recipes and forgave you while throwing up when you gave him food poisoning when you were thirteen, who still trusted what you put in front of him even after that (though he had gotten you a meat thermometer and written up a cheat sheet to ensure you knew when it was fully cooked).

And you had his.

When Aunt Carole died, you mourned for months. Navy royalty knocked on your dad's door to share their condolences with the teen for weeks. Bradley had been seventeen at the time, about to start his senior year of high school. He completed that year back in San Diego. He'd had friends and people who cared for him in Virginia, who'd offered their homes for his final year of high school, but when your dad offered, he clung to the familiarity that was Mav. That year, your dad had a few deployments, and all of them were short. Looking back, you wonder if Uncle Ice had pulled strings to ensure that. Either way, when Bradley went to his senior prom, Mav was there. He filmed the awkward getting-ready stage, caught on camera as you helped Bradley tie his tie, and you got a great moment of Mav doing the last inspection before Bradley left to pick up his date.

You spent all your free weekends that spring at every single one of Bradley's baseball games. Aunt Sarah would come to every home game, and little Lizzie and Ryan loved screaming and cheering for Brad's mama. Look at Brad Brad go!

Bradley grieved and cried, and he was so incredibly sad and heartbroken. But he was still Bradley. He was still your best friend. He intimidated any guy who got too close and was the only person outside your father who you could love one second and be planning his murder the next. Bradley was your best friend; he was until he wasn't.

Until papers were pulled and words were exchanged, Bradley stormed out one day and never came back.

You found him; of course you did. He was your best friend. And even though you coaxed him out of his hiding spot, words were said. Phrases hurled at you that targeted the softest of spots that only he knew about. You held together; you had to. You got him at Viper's and left him there. You went to Ice's. You didn't talk to your dad for months, and Bradley never spoke to him again.

He reached out to you during your senior year of high school in an email apologizing for how he lashed out at you. You never responded. A scabbed spot in your heart that used to belong to him, still too raw to touch. He kept emailing, though. Random updates, more apologies, congratulations, and happy birthdays. You read every email, but you never could bring yourself to respond. Then, four years had gone by.

Bradley's bi-weekly email arrived when you were in your second year of university. You read it, reread it, and then read it a third time. Aviation Officer Candidate School. You weren't surprised; you knew Bradley wouldn't abandon his dream. You never thought he would, but being faced with the reality of it weighed heavily. Bradley being selected for AOCS was proof of his dedication. OCS, in general, required sponsors within the Navy and was much more difficult to get into than the Naval Academy; they only took individuals with a bachelor's degree to start with. However, for Bradley to get into AOCS, specifically the aviation program, someone up the ladder had to have helped. The more you sat with it, the harder it became to figure out who. It could have been Viper, who had dealt with an Angry, Confused, and Isolated Bradley for the remainder of his senior year and the summer, probably every summer after that. Or maybe it was Ice, cleaning up the mess your dad had made, just as he always did.

Your dad had cost Bradley four years in the Navy, but this program might help him bridge it, at least to some degree.

For the first time since the day you dropped him at Viper's, you respond.

Congratulations, Bradley, I'm glad you're achieving your dream.

That was it.

You didn't tell your dad. But you heard about it when he found out. Ice, thankfully, had given you a heads-up. You played dumb; you knew better than to admit to the emails. Your dad was strong and stubborn, but you'd seen what his and Bradley's blowout had done to him. The hollowness that followed him, the pain in his eyes at every memento and reminder. The ache in his heart is located between the gaps titled Goose and Carole.

He hadn't told you why he'd pulled Bradley's papers. You'd made (somewhat) peace (begrudgingly) with that when you finally let your dad back into your life nearly two months after the Pulling of the Papers, and only because he almost died in a bird strike and you as his next of kin had been notified upon his hospitalization.

When he heard about AOCS, though, the secret came spilling out. Carole asked me, and she gave me one request. You'd known your dad had a private conversation with Carole Bradshaw on her deathbed. You and Bradley had been asked to stand outside her hospital room while they talked. When you were allowed back in, they both had tears in their eyes. You'd always assumed it had something to do with Goose, and to an extent, you were right. Carole Bradshaw was one of the strongest women you'd ever met, but it seemed even she was afraid of the price you pay to the Navy for the honor of serving your country.

You weren't sure what drove you to it.

It could have been Bradley's transition into AOCS.

The truth your dad had finally shared.

Or because you still felt like you had something to prove.

Maybe even that need for speed that had never been handled properly.

But you enrolled in your university's Navy ROTC program that same week.

The most surprising part of the change was how easily it came. Orders sounded like they did on the bases you grew up on. Your history, lineage, and contacts helped get you started and acted as an excuse for your late decision to join. You found some semblance of peace in ROTC as if the missing parts of the puzzle were starting to become visible.

You weren't sure how you managed to get through ROTC and into your first year as a Naval officer without your dad finding out, but you did. And by then, it was too late for him to do to you what he'd done to Bradley.

Bradley, to his credit, had a mellower response, only because he didn't have your phone number anymore and could only type an email in caps lock to convey his yelling. He did include it on the bottom, though; I wish I'd thought of ROTC. I could've sped the pipeline along more.

You hadn't responded to any emails since his admission into AOCS, and if you watched his college graduation and sent a gift to Ice to pass off to him, that was nobody's business but yours.

Your dad was… displeased.

But he kept calling. He didn't freeze you out, and you didn't have it in you to do it to him again. So you talked, told him how training was, and when he finally asked you why? In such a pained voice, you told him the truth. There was no tangible reason, just that you had to do it, that this was your path. Safe to say, it wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear.

Becoming an Aviator was difficult. Not only because of the requirements and the toll it takes. Not only because you were a woman. But because you faced accusations of nepotism at every turn. You were, however, your father's daughter, and his lack of movement within the Navy did not diminish his accomplishments. You learned. You learned from the best. From your teachers, from your peers, from your dad, and from the men you considered uncles. And you showed everyone what you were capable of. You were a Naval Aviator within a year of graduating from college and the ROTC program, achieving the rank quicker than almost anyone following the same pipeline. You made a name for yourself using your brain. Where people were quick to assume nepotism, you were quick to show them your dry wit, sharp tongue, and tactical thinking.

That's where the callsign came from. Athena was the Greek goddess of wisdom and war, daughter of Zeus, and king of the gods. It fit well.

You did two and a half years as a Naval Aviator Officer in training in Norfolk and another two in Japan as a Junior Officer before you got the call.

Top Gun.

Returning to San Diego was… nostalgic. Being on the Miramar base even more so. You faced criticism of nepotism from your peers here as well; never mind that only the top two percent of naval aviators are invited to Top Gun to begin with. But you worked hard and proved your calling had more to do with wisdom and war than whose daughter you were. You came out of it with two friends: a pilot named Brigham Lennox, callsign: Harvard, and his WSO Logan Lee, callsign: Yale. Both of whom were the only two to wise up within the first day and realize you are so much more than your name.

It's also why the three of you were at the top of your class.

Afterward, Yale and Harvard are sent to Oceana, off the East Coast, where you knew Bradley had been based on his emails. And you were kept in state and sent to Lemoore. You preferred that, not that you'd say so. But being in-state meant being able to visit with Ice, even when you knew he wasn't doing so well, and it meant you could continue to avoid Bradley in peace. At Lemoore, you got placed with the VFA-14, the Tophatters, also known as the oldest currently active aircraft squadron in the US Navy. There's a lot of history attached there, a legacy to make proud of, as Ice and Viper would like to remind you when you'd join them for a monthly poker game.

Being stationed with the Tophatters came with two significant perks: Natasha Trace, callsign: Phoenix, and Jake Seresin, callsign: Hangman. Stationed with the VFA-41 (Black Aces) and VFA-151 (Vigilantes) respectively. Despite the fact that the two of them could not stand each other, you formed friendships with them both. In Natasha, you found someone who understood the uphill battle for women in service, but more than that, you found someone who kept it honest, called it like she saw it, and loved you for who you were.

With Jake, it was different. His bravado and charm worked, but not on you. Where other pilots got fed up with his cocky bullshit, you were able to stay leveled and see through. A benefit you shared once after a few beers of being raised by the best of the best. There must have been a sharper edge to your reminisces than you remember because Jake never made a nepo baby joke after that. A casual one here or there, but none at the heart of it, none with genuine malice. Not like he had in the beginning.

Jake allowed you to be. Rough edges and jagged ends. He kept your feet on the ground when you spent most of your day in the skies. You like to think you balanced him out a bit, too. Able to keep him from getting too stuck in the clouds, too sure of himself. You were always happy to knock him down a peg or two; truthfully, sometimes, he needed you to do so.

You found happiness on Commander, Carrier Wing Nine in the Strike Fighter Wing Pacific. You excelled in your squad and gained recognition and honors, ribbons that decorated your lapel. You talked with your dad, mostly about random things, given the confidentiality of both his and your assignments, but you found time. Ice and Sarah checked in, and Viper, too. And every time your feet were on solid ground, they found time for a barbecue or a poker game, or both, usually both.

You still read Bradley's emails. Bi-weekly had turned to monthly, and even then, they didn't come every month, but they did come, always with a reason, just as they had been for the last decade and change. You never could figure out why he kept sending them. You'd thought about replying, now, years after the rage and pain and grief you'd held onto had been let go of, nothing productive ever came from holding on too tight, you'd learned. But Bradley sent the emails, sometimes signing his name as Bradley or Rooster, but on the nostalgic ones, he'd always put Brad Brad, an olive branch, you knew, but you never could get yourself to click send on the drafts you'd write out, dozens of them sitting in the drafts folder as it was.

You'd found your space; it wasn't perfect, but it was yours.

And then you got recalled.

And so did 'Nix.

And Jake.

Then the email came in, and they're calling me back to Top Gun for some detachment. Maybe I could find time to come to Lemoore?

And then your dad hit Mach 10 and was missing in action for over five hours, only to be found in some small-town diner in the middle of nowhere Idaho.

He was sent back to Miramar, too.

And you were left wondering what the fuck was happening now, flying down with Phoenix and Hangman on your wings, and why it seemed to be colliding all the fragments of your world.

...

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

[niniwritesxo]

hihii!! saw that you were taking lukas radzevičius x reader, may i request a ff in which the reader was the main inspiration for tayo akys?? you may do whatever you see fit :)) thank you so much in advance, love your work!!

‘don’t read the really bad lines okay?’ (req)

lukas radzevičius x fem reader

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

you found it by accident

lukas had left in a hurry, a last-minute call from someone on the crew, something about costumes. and forgot his notebook under the seat.

you didn’t mean to notice. it was half-tucked under his hoodie, just barely visible, with one of the pages folded slightly at the edge.

you pick it up without thinking.

it’s old. soft leather. the edges worn down from being shoved in and out of backpacks. the kind of book someone’s been writing in for a while. the kind that means something.

you only mean to glance.

but then you see your name.

written, small, in the top corner of a page.

“y/n”

your fingers go still.

you sit down on the bench and open it properly.

⸻

there are little fragments all over.

some lines are crossed out. some are repeated with different words. some are just… feelings, scribbled half-formed like he didn’t know how to say it right.

tavo akys išneša mane iš galvos

you feel your heart start to thud, slow and loud.

another page has:

she sits like she’s somewhere else. eyes full of something i’ll never reach.

why do i keep looking?

her laugh is quiet. i wish i could hear it more.

some of the lines are in english, some in lithuanian. one page is just your name over and over again in different styles of handwriting, like he was testing how it looked in cursive.

you don’t know what to do.

you close the notebook gently and hold it in your lap.

he wrote about you.

not just a song. not just one verse.

like… pages.

⸻

he finds you outside, still holding it.

he stops walking when he sees it in your hands. his whole face shifts. like he’s trying to act normal and absolutely failing.

“…you found it,” he says, voice low.

you nod.

“i was gonna give it back.”

he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“did you read it?”

you hesitate.

“some.”

he looks like he wants to disappear.

“i didn’t mean for you to. i mean—i didn’t know you’d find it.”

you look at him.

“you wrote my name in it.”

he rubs the back of his neck, eyes on the ground.

“…yeah.”

“it’s about me, right? the song?”

“yeah.”

you hold the notebook tighter in your lap.

“you wrote some really nice things,” you say quietly.

he finally looks at you.

“i meant them.”

you stare at each other for a beat.

then you offer the notebook back.

but lukas shakes his head.

“keep it.”

you blink.

“seriously?”

“yeah.”

his voice is softer now.

“i think you’re supposed to have it.”

you don’t know what to say to that.

so you nod, clutching it a little tighter to your chest.

“thank you,” you say, almost a whisper.

his mouth lifts just slightly.

“don’t read the really bad lines, okay?”

you smile.

“too late.”

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

thanks for the compliment, hoped you liked it !!!

a/n: english is not my first language so if you see any misspellings or mistakes, my apologies <3

i see all of you requesting for lukas btw and i will be reading them this week, thank you so much for requesting 🕯️🩷

[granddaughterofdemeter]

Look how I do this, Look how I got this

main ship: [percy jackson x f!reader]

side ship: [annabeth chase x readers m!cousin]

warnings: insecure!reader, flufff, people shipping r and percy,

chapter 1 summary: you have a huge crush on percy but one of your friends, rachel, does too, so you havent done anything. plus, percy doesn't like you like that anyway

[a/n: they look like the PJO tv show but aged up to 18]

Pre-Second Giant War against Gaea-flashback

You stood beside Annabeth as she rattled off about how they'd made the Lincoln Museum. Of course, you loved her like a sister but you couldn't stop yourself from dozing off.

“ [Name],” You tilted your head and stared into the eyes of Rachel Dare, the Oracle, one of your best friends and the girl who’s had a crush on Percy Jackson for years. See, you used to have a huge crush on him too but when you saw Rachel close to him you became insecure and resisted the urge to be closer to him mostly because you didn't want to violate the Girl Code .

She was popular, respected as the Oracle, and…pretty.

All you were was smart. You were only known because your best friend is Annabeth and your cousin is basically only known for a having a huge crush on her, and you would refrain from calling yourself pretty. It was hard acknowledging that fact but you liked being honest, unlike the people close to you.

They all said he liked you, but you were hesitant even with the signs.

“ Poppy, you want to sit by the lakeside for a picnic during lunch?” Percy whispered, his blinding smile lighting your questioning gaze. You shrugged though, trying to nod because you wanted to be subtle about the care you held for him.

Especially his nickname for you, he started calling you Poppy because, in his seventh-grade year, he had a project on Poppy seeds and found out that they cause sleep. Which, one night during the first quest, you'd done because he couldn't sleep, so you sang a small song that made him black out after the first verse. 

“Percy's been looking for you for ages to come to his cabin!” Rachel smiled, her green eyes lighting up. Annabeth nodded before offering you a hand to get up.

As you stepped toward the still, cold, marble, smelling of the sea, you looked around for a spot to sit.

“ [Name!]” Percy's grin relaxed you as he pulled you to his side on the blue couch. 

Annabeth gave you a pointed look while sitting down next to you and shook her head when you ignored her. Instead deciding to lean against the back of the couch. You came to Camp Half-Blood a year after Annabeth and Luke did. It took your father, Hypnos, a year afterward to claim you and move you from the Hermes Cabin.

It was two years after that when Percy came into your life and gave you the possibility to win a trophy for you and your half-siblings.

"Grover! we haven't seen you in so long!"

The brown-skinned boy shrugged and launched himself across a loveseat next to Annabeth, holding out a hand for a high-five. 

"Did I...miss something?" He turned his head to stare at the arm Percy's hand wrapped around you. You rolled your eyes and whispered to Percy, "Maybe you should stop basically wrestling me to sit next to you, they keep on thinking that we're dating." He grinned, sea-green eyes staring into yours.

"Well, it's funny when they have that disappointed look when we aren't." Disappointment settled into your stomach before you could shake it away, but you did nothing but laugh and fix his curly blonde hair around his face.

"Shut up, Perce!" You laughed, tilting your head away.

person who made the banners are tagged on my pinned post

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

the same sweet shock | alpha!rhett x omega!oc

Summary: Somehow, Rhett and Tessa always knew he was meant to be her Alpha. That she was meant to be his Omega. And after nearly ten years of waiting, they are finally one. (wc: 3127)

Warnings: omegaverse stuff/lore (of which i am not well verse do not hang me), language, SMUT 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI (pretty much just straight filth, heat stuff, rut stuff, fingering, pinv, use a condom kids unlike these dweebs, gland biting, and of course knotting), rhett being the best alpha

✎……👍👍 enjoy

✎……MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS INSTALLMENT

Rhett’s place was actually a loft in one of the barns up close by the Abbott family ranch house. They still stored hay up there, but there was a bed and a mini-fridge and one of those small Coleman camping gas ranges set up on a table if he wanted to cook up something. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something for when he got locked out of the house or just wanted some space to breathe. And right now, he needed a lot of space to breathe as he laid a whimpering, panting, writhing Tessa Abernathy onto his bed.

When he put her in his passenger seat at the bonfire, she was still wearing jeans and a few layers. The entire five minute drive she had squirmed and whined softly, sweating into his cloth seats. Rhett had told her, as she threw her head back and rubbed her thighs together, that she could take something off if she needed to.

He just didn’t expect her to peel off everything but her t-shirt. 

The only thing Rhett knew about heats was from sex-ed class in high school. Nearly a decade ago and too vague now that he was dealing with it. Now that he had had an Omega in his front seat touching herself just to make the ache stop and panting his name. 

But something like instinct was taking over his brain as he made quick work of his clothes, shucking them off and leaving them scattered on the floor. She was touching herself again. Two fingers shoved deep in her center, her free hand underneath her thin shirt — tweeking her sore breast. She whimpered his name again and it felt like a burn.

“M’comin’, Tess, m’comin’.”

Something like a second mind was telling him what she needed from him now as the Alpha who had marked her. A distinct smell of her covered in him that drove him mad. He needed to touch her. Fill her. Breed her. His cock twitched at the thought, that something clouding his brain as he growled low in his throat. As he watched her juices leak out around her fingers, his hand roughly palming himself through his boxers. He meant it when he said he wanted to take things slow with her. Even if those thoughts in the back of his head had been telling him for months that she was his. He wanted it to be her choice, he wanted this to feel right and good and natural between them.

But even rushed and unexpected — it still felt good and right. As he propped his knee up on the foot of the bed, continuing to watch her in nearly a daze.

Her eyes, half-lidded and hazy, caught him standing at the edge of the bed and she reached for him. Fingers outstretched as she whined softly.

“Alpha,” Tessa breathed, a few more tears running down her reddened cheeks. “Please. Hurts.”

At her word, the cloud abated, and he climbed fully onto the bed with her. 

He could smell something — could nearly see the scent hanging in the air. A trail along the hallway lined with lockers. Honeysuckle and the air of early morning. Crisp and sweet. 

On some instinct he didn’t understand, Rhett followed it. Let it lead him all the way to the nurses station up by the main office. Standing outside the door, a thought from somewhere else slammed into the forefront of his mind. Fill. He didn’t want to admit to himself that some part of him knew. Knew where this trail would lead. Knew what or who needed to be filled…Filled by him. He could already feel himself swelling in his jeans as he wrapped his hand around the door handle. 

Tessa Abernathy was sitting on the nurse’s exam table. Red faced, sweating, face pinched up in a grimace with fingernails digging into her thighs. She was on the rodeo team with him. Barrel raced and got pretty blue ribbons for her efforts. Friends with Laney — Walker’s girl. Quiet and kind and radiating with that smell of honeysuckle and early morning air. 

She was hurting. And somehow he knew he could make it better.

He stepped further into the room as he mumbled, “M’sorry, I don’...”

Tessa gripped her stomach — a whimper falling out of her as those tears finally fell. The sound went through him like a knife. Sharp and painful. He wanted to make it better. He could make it better. He could ease her pain and fill her and make everything good for her.

Omega. Fill.

The words screamed in his mind as he lifted his hand towards the strap to his backpack. Ready to drop it on the floor and cross the room to her right then and there. But then the nurse walked back into the room. Yelled at him to leave. 

And he did. 

He regretted that moment for the past ten years. Leaving her in pain. Leaving her empty. A memory he didn’t like to think back on. But then she stumbled back into his life. Beautiful and warm as the sun. Offering up a kindness he didn’t think he deserved but she gave so freely. But then she went into heat at that party and he couldn’t let anyone else have her. She was his. His. His. His Omega. His to fill. 

Rhett groaned as he knelt over her, cupping her face in his hands to kiss her properly this time. Their first kiss. Not what he wanted their first kiss to be either. But it was so much more than he felt it would normally be. More intense, more wonderful, more desperate. Tessa whined, high pitched and desperate into his mouth, both hands reaching and pawing at him with whatever strength she had left. One hand trailed down her jaw, felt the residual sweat and tears, before it slipped down her neck. 

Her mating gland was swollen — moreso than he had ever felt before. His fingers massaged gently as he licked into her mouth. But it made her moan, wanton and open, as her hips bucked up to meet him. 

Rhett smiled, small and adoring, as he shushed her; fingers pushing her hair back from her face. “Easy. Easy. I know’mega, s’alright. ‘M’gonna take care’a ya now.” 

When he was a kid, he used to find the honeysuckle bushes with Perry. Find the flowers in that early summer air, pluck one from the rest and suck the nectar from them. It felt like that to kiss her sweat slicked skin. Honeysuckle nectar sweet as he mouthed and licked and sucked down the side of her neck. As he peppered that swollen gland with light pecks of his lips.

Tessa thrashed and whined softly beneath him as he trailed one hand down her stomach, past that t-shirt he pulled effortlessly over her head, to find her swollen and dripping. An awe and a growl filled him at the way she gripped the two fingers he sunk into her, at the way she pulsated and moaned. When his fingers were fully seated inside her, he looked up to see more tears streaming down her face, her hands weakly pushing and pulling at him. He didn’t know if it was for him to stop or for him to keep going. 

He knew what she needed from him now. What she needed and craved on some base instinct. But still, he didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted this to be good for her in every way. 

“Rhett,” she cried as he pushed those two fingers in and out, making her whole body shudder.

“I know wha’ya need, sunshine, I jus’...Jus’ soak my fingers like a good’mega n’ll give it t’ya.” She keened high in her throat and it made him grin. “Tha’s it. Takin’ my fingers s’well.”

His fingers stuffing her full seemed to have abated her for the moment, but after just a few pumps she seemed to know it wasn’t what what she really craved. Not what she really needed. Her hips are squirming and jerking, her head thrown back as she took what he gave. But it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t enough. 

“Please, Rhett, please — oh — need t’please…Alpha, please, please, can I — want it so bad. Need — Need t’be full,” she panted, eyes barely peeled open as she clawed at his back.

And he knew it too.

Biting into her jaw gently, he whispered, husky and deep, “Wan’ya t’cum f’r me first.”

It was like she was waiting for permission. Going stiff beneath him, she gasped, fingernails digging into his flesh as her walls convulsed around his fingers. Refusing to let go. She whined as he pulled them free, his hand soaked to the knuckle. But still she squirmed, her hips searching for something. Anything. Him. His cock, his knot, ready and aching to fill her.

Tessa opened her eyes, a few more tears leaking down her face, some clarity in her countenance for the first time since he marked her. He kissed her then. Gentle and consuming.

“Thank you,” she whispered, trying to tug him closer even though they were chest to chest, skin to skin.

Rhett shook his head, cupped her cheek. “Don’.”

“Why?”

“You didn’...Didn’get t’choose.”

She smiled, soft and sunshine bright. “Yeah I did. I chose you, my Alpha. Back when I’s seventeen…So good t’me.”

That made Rhett growl, low and showing some teeth. That second brain fuzzing all his thought as he flipped her onto her stomach. Practically ripping his boxers off as he urged one of her legs to bend, spreading her open for him. His cock was red, nearly purple at the tip, as it leaked and slapped against his stomach. He had never knotted someone before either, a biological process that only occured when an Alpha bred an Omega.

But he could already feel it beginning to form, causing a near pain as he lined himself up with her leaking entrance.

“Such a good Omega, sunshine, fuck — so good. My Omega. Mine.”

He was rambling now as he pushed in nice and slow. Some noise like a moan was falling consistently from her mouth, high pitched and breathy as she took him easily to the hilt. Every one of his nerves felt like it was on fire as he waited for her to adjust, or at least tried to. Even the feeling of him filling her was enough to make her flutter around him. He struggled to breathe even as he lost all composure and began to thrust deep and heavy into her awaiting cunt.

Each thrust forward forced a noise out of her, forced her higher up the bed. Her hands scrambled to reach for something, reach for him, and she didn’t stop until he grabbed hold of the back of her hand and laced their fingers together. Holding her down and grounding her. Grounding him.

“Fuck, you feel s’good,” he grumbled in her ear as he pressed himself into her back, blanketing her in him.

Changing the angle of his hips, he knew he hit that spongey spot inside her when she choked for breath. Rhett watched her mouth drop open further, her eyelids flutter, her breathing pick up as he gave short but powerful thrusts into that spot directly. Her fingers held a death grip on his own. 

“Good, ‘mega,” he grumbled, shifting closer. “That’s a good fuckin’mega.”

Tessa made some choked noise, shoulders hunching in on herself as he just kept going. Kept pushing right into that spot. He felt her clench around him, keeping him as deep as he could go — it made him shudder and twitch inside her. But he didn’t want this to end just yet. Didn’t want it to stop feeling this good. So he curled his free arm around her and pressed his fingers into her little bundle of nerves. 

“A-Ah!” she cried softly, legs trying to claw into the mattress and gain some traction. 

“God, y’re makin’ such pretty lil’noises, ‘mega. Think y’can make s’more f’r me?”

“S-Someone c-could hear,” she stuttered out, glancing towards the hay door that hung cracked open.

Being stuffed full of him and at least partially satiated, some of Tessa had come back into her it seemed. This was having the opposite effect on Rhett. The further they went the more lost he became. Lost in her scent, lost in her pussy, lost in filling her like his biology screamed to do. But she was also his Omega — and he longed to please her.

“What? Y’scared someone’s gonna hear ya take m’knot?” he questioned.

The thought made her flutter around him, but she still nodded. “C’Come check it out.”

She had a fair point, but if someone from the house hadn’t come to investigate her moaning at that point, Rhett was unsure if anyone ever would. But he could see the worry in her eyes, keeping her from letting go completely and caving into the pleasure he so desperately wanted to give her. So, he let go of her hand and brought two fingers up to her lips. He bumped the rough pads against the swollen flesh and she parted for him with heavy lidded eyes.

“That’s it — that’s my ‘mega,” he said with a grin as he pushed his fingers into her mouth and pressed down on her tongue, she practically went limp beneath him. “My fingers’ll keep ya nice’n quiet.” 

But that didn’t stop him from trying to draw every little noice he could from her. He wanted people to hear. Wanted everyone to know that he fucked his Omega that good. That it was him filling her and not anyone else. So he gathered the last of his composure and slowed everything down. Took his dear sweet time as he pressed against that spot inside her and held it there, as he circled her swollen clit with firm, lethargic circles. And he watched, revelled, in the way her jaw went slack around his fingers. At the heavy look in her blue eyes. At the way her chest heaved and her body went practically limp caged beneath him.

With every press and pull of him, with every breath she took, she made some noise around his fingers. He felt the vibrations of it al teh way down his arm, and it made a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. And he kept up that same slow, beautifully agonizing pace as she was brought closer and closer to release.

And he was brought closer and closer to insanity.

Her walls spasmed around his fingers as he massaged her in perfect time with his thumb against her clit. A sob echoed around his other hand as tears slipped down her cheeks.

“F-Feels good, ‘mega?” he stuttered, vision blurred and mind hazy but still grasping the last of his control.

Tessa nodded with another sob.

Until this point, she had been boneless on the mattress. But now her hands scrambled to curl around any part of him she could reach, liek seh was scared he would leave now that she was so close. Her breathing was heavy, hard, fast as she moaned and sobbed and drooled around his fingers. Tears running down her cheeks as she stared bleary eyed at the wall. He could feel her thighs quaking beneath him, her walls spasming and trying to pull him deeper.

“I-I got ya, ‘mega, I got ya,” he whispered as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her swollen mating gland. “Let go.”

Let go she did. Rhett watched, the last of his sanity dwindling, as her eyes rolled back. Her walls gripped him so tight he didn’t think he could move even if he tried to. Something high-pitched and loud got caught around his fingers still pressing down on her tongue. He could feel her juices coating his thighs.

After that, Rhett wasn’t entirely sure what happened.

All he remembered was flashes of Tessa screaming in pleasure, skin slapping against skin, his own roaring yell…

His teeth coming down hard on her mating gland.

He came to as he felt his knot swelling at the base of his cock. As Tessa whimpered trying to take it. 

She threw her head back, brandishing the red bite mark and already purpling bruise on her neck, and whined: “Rhett…Can’t…”

He smoothed his hand up her sweat slicked side. Feeling like he just woke up from some nap he only meant to be thirty minutes but instead it was four hours. Not knowing what time or even year it was. 

All he really understood was that Tessa Abernathy was wholly and completely his. And that was good.

“Yeah, y’can, sunshine,” Rhett finally spoke, whispering into her neck and peppering that bruise with kisses. “Y’were made f’me, ‘member? Made f’y’re Alpha. Ju’ lemme help ya.”

As his knot pressed in bit by bit, he moved his hand, which had somehow slipped out from beneath her, back between her legs. She whimpered at the touch to her swollen bundle of nerves, sensitive and abused, but it seemed to help. Her whimpers of pain turned to soft moans of pleasure. And when it finally settled inside her with a quiet pop — he felt her spasm around him once more. Forehead pressing into the mattress as she keened.

His hand slipped up and there was a bulge in her lower stomach. It made him shudder to think that was him.

A silence settled over them after that. Caught in the afterglow — at the moment too perfect to be broken. Rhett felt an overwhelming need to make sure she was comfortable. An itch he was desperate to scratch. Still locked inside her, he rolled them both onto their sides and grabbed the quilt from the end of the bed to cover their naked forms. Tessa nuzzles back into him easily, and she fit against his chest like she was made to be there.

And maybe she was.

“M’sorry,” he whispered, unable to hold his tongue forever.

“Huh?” Tessa replied, voice laced with sleep, like she just on the edge.

“I —” he lightly touched the bright red bite mark. “I didn’mean to…”

She sighed, something content and knowing. He could practically feel her smile. “I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

She fell asleep shortly after that. Rhett out of words and feeling exhausted himself. There would be more to discuss when they both woke up in the morning, that was sure. And there would be questions that needed answered from his family, who he was certain heard some of what went on tonight.

But right then, it didn’t matter. Right then he wrapped his Omega up in his arms and fell into the blissful arms of sleep.

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[fabuloustrash05]

Okay just so y'all know...

Leoichi and Leosagi are two completely different ships!! They are NOT the same!!

They are both Leonardo focused ships, yes, HOWEVER it's Leo being shipped with two separate characters.

"Leosagi" is Leonardo x Miyamoto Usagi

This ship mostly grew after the popularity of TMNT 2003 with Leo's close friendship with the character Miyamoto Usagi.

"Leoichi" is Leonardo x Yuichi Usagi

Yuichi is the main character of Netflix's show Samurai Rabbit: The Usagi Chronicles. He is the descendant of Miyamoto Usagi. Also unlike Usagi, Yuichi is NOT a TMNT character, he is from his own franchise entirely, but fans have been shipping him with both Rise Leo and 2012 Leo.

Edit: I originally had this in the tags but I’ll say it here; when I say Usagi is a TMNT character, I'm aware he's apart of his own franchise, but he's well know to crossover with TMNT. He's interacted with many TMNT characters and been in TMNT series such as 1987, 2012, and as mentioned earlier, 2003. Yuichi has not, so Usagi can classify as apart of the TMNT character roster, but overall Usagi has his own franchise, but sadly lots of fans don't know that

And the most important detail to know is...

Yuichi and Usagi are NOT the same character!!

So please if you’re making ship art or a fanfic of Leo with Yuichi and tag it as “Leosagi” that is the incorrect ship name and vice verse.

Hopefully this helps so people can know the difference and tags things more properly and not get non shippers and new Leosagi and Leoichi shippers confused, cause even I will admit it can get confusing.