#anyways i love raven goodnight

[gaymakima]

Two theories I have (well, one theory and a headcanon) regarding Raven.

Headcanon: Raven's kindred links can influence her own emotional state, depending on the intensity of the other person's emotions.

Theory: Raven left to spy on Salem for Ozpin, with the specific purpose of getting close enough to Salem to create a kindred link with her. This plan succeeded. The mysterious portal in the V9 flashback was to Salem. Raven spent enough time by Salem's side to bond with her. Kindred links can only be broken when the other person is dead.

Conclusion headcanon: Raven, as we see her in canon, has been emotionally linked to a whole range of people, none of who have particularly positive opinions on her that don't come with a caveat (namely Taiyang and Qrow being heartbroken and bitter, Yang's feelings of abandonment, Ozpin's guilt, Vernal might be the only exception but, uh... decoy). And then you add in Salem's emotions to the mix, which have been stewing in Raven for over a decade by the time we see her.

Bonus: if kindred links can only be broken when the other person is dead, and Summer has turned into a Hound, what would Raven feel from that?

[fantasyyluvr]

Hey there👋👋 could you please do whatever love language of the bamboos are ??

LOVE LANGUAGE OF THE BATBOYS

A/N: terribly sorry I let this request collect dust. My interest in comics fell as life got hectic and whatever the hell. I won't go all Wattpad author on you.

Dick Grayson’s love language is words of affirmation. At the peak of his characterization, he is a man ravenous for praise and attention. A moment of peace, of relief, of sweetness.

Stunted, yet too grown for his own good—simultaneously. He will seek attention, showering you with gifts and compliments in hopes that you reciprocate. Holidays would read like a HallMark movie that would move suburban mothers to tears.

Dick is also the man to send romantic quotes stolen from Pinterest, and the occasional confusing poem of his own hand. His nerves would grind as he read the ‘’seen’’ stamp beneath his text, worried out of his mind that it didn't properly convey his emotions, his love.

“What, no reply yet? If you're that moved, you could always come kiss me.” He'd send the message, playing it off as a joke. But his stomach groaned with the familiar ache, that cold and empty feeling of uncertainty.

What if she doesn't like it? Will she still like me? Would I seem lame if I double texted? Am I bugging her?

The flames of self doubt would spread and eat at his mind until his phone pinged with a,” it's beautiful, babe. A hard read, but the intention was there.” And a flirtatious emoji paired with it.

Thus, the flames of doubt were stomped out, like they never existed. They liked the poem, and he would spend hours rereading it. Marveling and gushing because you liked it. Something he made.

Jason Todd's love language is acts of service. It's a loyalty thing for him.

Gift sharing could be manipulation; soft words could be lies, and he's too self-loathing to believe them anyway. Red Hood swallows his spare time, and his desire for touch swung on a pendulum—one side thirsting for it, the other side uncomfortable.

The thought of returning home to a nice and warm meal would make him melt into a puddle. Or finding his hero suit washed, and his gear cleaned and stored away.

It reignites a flame in his cold eyes, the domesticity calling forth an unclassified emotion that sent goosebumps blazing over his skin like wildfire, calling his arm hairs to attention.

Jason would return the favor. You would awake to find breakfast made, the aroma of bacon and eggs thick in the air, the sweetness of syrup carrying around the house. Scalding tea trickling into a pot, milk and sugar already on the table. Plates washed and set.

Jason would also do laundry and iron clothes. He gets those random bursts of energy (or adrenaline) and cleans the entire house spotless.

Baths would be drawn for you, and if he's feeling lavish, he'll add roses to the bubbles. The finest soaps would lather your skin, scented with the the best smelling perfumes—business was good, and it was a present. His calloused fingers would be overjoyed to massage your scalp (he hoped you'd do his next).

Tim Drake’s love language is quality time. Also, I would like to preface this section by admitting I haven't read much of Tim.

He would help you study. Textbooks adorning the wooden table after hours of quizzing. Coffee steaming in a mug, pens and highlighters scratching at paper. Kisses shared with each right answer.

He'd tease,” Oh, that was a hard one. A trick question.” A smirk, sweet as frosting would tug on his lips, then a warm kiss would swallow yours.” If I were as filthy minded as Jason, maybe I'd crack a joke.”

Tim’s gaze would find you, in the middle of whatever—washing dishes, doing laundry, exercising. They'd burst with amorous passion, like exploding stars, shimmering and twinkling in his irises.

When the sun kisses Gotham goodnight, and the moon assumes it duty, he'd find himself wishing he could be beside you. Not Batman, not Dick, certainly not Damian. That's not proof that he hates his colleagues or that his work is last on the list of priorities. It's just. . . you're higher.

“Hey, love,” he'd speak into the phone, after the voicemail prompted him.” I know you're likely sleep tonight. But I wanted to at least call and tell you to sleep safe and warm. And to save space for me.” A chuckle would roll of his tongue, the wailing of police sirens in the background.

Damian Wayne's love language is also quality time.

Time is precious to him. His mother’s presence was unreliable. He, his father, his siblings tango with dead every silvery night. Each misfortune in his family reminded him of that.

Robin is not what Dick thinks. It's not just bursting into hideouts and knocking the crap out of villains. The peril is real, as well as the potential for failure—and failure in their line of work means death.

Oracle was paralyzed in a second, one wrong move and her nerves were shot. Jason’s life was quite literally put on a clock, killed by time itself. When Damian was an assassin, it merely took seconds to end a life, one of emotion and desires and opinions—gone at the stroke of a blade.

Time matters.

Damian would try to spend all of it with you, doing anything. Attending museums, painting you, listening to your playlists. Finding the child he was depraved of for so long. Being an angsty teenager and loving it.

“This is considered fun?” A dark eyebrow of his would raise teasingly. There you sat, at a sport's game, the roaring crowd trembling the stadium and stabbing his ears. The golden beam of the sun roasting both you, and the overpriced popcorn tossing and gurgling in his stomach.

But, deep down, the liveliness of the crowd intrigued him. Even he'd find himself screaming along with the masses on their feet, yelling out praise or curse words.

Damian's jade irises would slide over to you, the sheer glee decorating your features. A painting. He'd see a masterpiece in you; how that expression would translate onto a canvas.

[cathrrrine]

just eat your food and say goodnight.

erik lehnsherr (magneto) x reader, platonic! peter maximoff (quicksilver) x reader • x-men (movies) • fluff, female reader

Summary: Peter Maximoff is a mischievous little shit. Y/N Lehnsherr and her husband Erik love him anyway. AO3

“Well, I’m calling it a night then.”

A content sigh escaped your lips as you stood up from your seat at the dining table and gingerly picked up your own dishes as well as the other empty ones left on the table. Those who noticed thanked you quickly before resuming their respective conversations — like Raven and Charles who were too busy bickering like children — while others made the effort to collect the ones on the other end of the table, namely Hank, Jean and Scott; the latter only doing so after being dragged by his girlfriend.

“Hey, you got an early class too, old man. Can’t risk waking up late with that back of yours.” You gestured to your husband, pointedly looking at him with a smirk on your face. He mirrored your expression, playfully cringing his nose to tease you but it only made you chuckle, a sound that was music to his ears.

“Good night then, everyone.” Erik stood up, following suit behind you, a melody of good night’s responding to him in different tones and variations of the phrase.

“The old man joke doesn’t age well with you, Y/N!”

Although muffled as he said it with a mouth full of food, it was clear enough for you to hear and snap your head towards him. Peter, the beloved speedster, snickered to himself at his own joke. He was too busy shoving chocolate pudding down his throat to notice that a couple of those around him had gone quiet, staring at him with disapproving eyes.

Raven reached over to flick the side of his head and Charles leaned back to give her the leeway, “Dumbass.”

“Ow!”

In your one thousand and thirty-five years of living, it was no surprise that all jokes about your age had grown stale. You hated them, having heard every single phrase on Earth…it was just plain boring to hear them make unoriginal jabs at your age at this point. If they got creative, you wouldn’t mind so much, but after hearing the same variations of the same jokes your whole life? Anyone would be understandably annoyed. Erik knew this, almost everyone at the table did as well. But, you figured it slipped Peter’s mind. It always did.

As he rubbed the side of his head, he stared angrily at the shapeshifter but was met by a pair of equally disappointed eyes that belonged to a certain Professor. A sheepish look fell on Peter’s face when he realised his mistake.

“You should know not to be too casual with your professors.” Charles raised an eyebrow.

Of course, you didn’t take it too seriously, he was a kid that meant no real harm so you didn’t really feel any real anger towards the young speedster, maybe even none at all. But he’s been bothering you too many times lately that it was starting to get on your nerves. So, you put on your Strict Professor Face and stared him down, determined to make him break a sweat at the very least. It probably wouldn’t put a cork in Peter’s attitude, but maybe you’d earn yourself a few weeks off from his incessant clowning.

Erik suppressed the grin that was starting to tug at his cheeks, he knew what you were doing, so he wordlessly took the stack of plates from your grip and continued your task for you. He caught Charles’ eye and they shared a knowing look for a brief moment.

Peter was in trroubleeeee.

“You do know how I feel about those jokes, Maximoff.”

“Funny, right?” He tried to play innocent, nervously smiling at you.

“I’ve told you so many times before that, no, I do not find them funny. We do not share the same sense of humour. Charles is right, you shouldn’t be so casual with me. We may be friends in your mind, but I’m still your professor, and I deserve at least a minimal amount of respect.”

Whew, that made even me sweat. Charles’ voice cackled in your mind.

Peter Maximoff was rarely left speechless, so it was an eighth wonder of the world to have him staring at you with his eyes widened and mouth shut. He gulped, shocked at being scolded by his favourite — although he’d never admit it to anyone — lecturer.

It hurt you too much to leave him that way, though. You were his favourite for a reason…that reason being how gracious you were to his faults that seemed to be never-ending. Relenting, you cracked a smile and used your powers to jolt him out of his daze and confusion. The sound of your chortling hit him with the reality behind the situation.

“Just messing with you, kid. I think you broke your own record for the longest time of being speechless.”

He rolled his eyes and groaned in effort to mask his relief, not wanting to admit she actually did get him back for once. “Unbelievable.”

“Serves you right for always making fun of me. I’m not kidding when I say it’s annoying!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever makes you feel better, grandma.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, “At least I’m not the one with greying hair.”

Peter frowned and opened his mouth, about to fire back a retort but you stopped him by laughing and ruffling his grey strands, “C’mon kid, just eat your food and say goodnight. Careful though, don’t choke.”

Your feet carried you over to your original destination, the intent of loading the dishwasher now appearing at the forefront of tour mind, but it was halted immediately.

As if someone had pushed him forward, Peter sped over to the sink area before you could even turn around, mumbling something about doing the dishes. You glanced curiously at the smiling telepath who simply gave you a shrug in return.

You bid your farewells to everyone again, Peter’s quip of ‘g’night’ not escaping you either when you went to pat him on the back affectionately.

A patiently waiting Erik tugged at your hand, clasping it in his own as he led you out of the kitchen and up the stairs, swinging your hands in tandem with his.

“You think he’s gonna be okay?” You worriedly asked aloud, suddenly very concerned that Peter wasn’t aware you had been joking. The role you played in his life was somewhat maternal, and you didn’t want him to think you were actually being curt with him.

“Who? Peter?” Erik gave you a sideways glance, “That boy’s smarter than he seems, he knows what you were doing. Don’t worry so much, darling. With how fast he moves, I’m sure his mind has moved on to other things by now.”

You hummed in reply, pleased with his answer. “Sometimes I think you might be the resident telepath with how good you are at reading my mind.”

“That’s just called being married to each other, my dear.”

———

“Y/N!” The sound of his sing-song voice was not what alerted you to Peter’s presence, nor was it the sound of his shoes squeaking before he rushed over with his powers, instead, it was the lack of formality. He never called you Professor or anything of the sort.

You never chided him for it, in fact, you’d be lying if you said you preferred the title as a prefix to your name. While many of your students were comfortable addressing you as such, anyone who felt more at ease with calling you by just your name was welcome to do so.

You had a first-year call you Mrs. Lehnsherr back then, when you and your husband were just newlyweds, but Erik was quick to remind them that if they wished to call you by your last name, it was to be Professor Lehnsherr instead, because, in his words, your accomplishments were not to be diminished and should be rightfully addressed.

It led to a whole debacle of mix-ups with two Prof. Lehnsherr’s roaming the hallways, which was a minor problem compared to the confusion of the paperwork.

The days of “Professor Lehnsherr?” “Yes?” “Sorry, not you Professor Lehnsherr, I meant you…Professor Lehnsherr,” had to come to an end, so you settled for whatever it is your students decided to call you…as long as it wasn’t demeaning.

However, no one called you Y/N, just Y/N, but the one and only Peter Maximoff himself.

The young man sped towards you, his hair swaying behind him from the strong gush of wind even as he came to a still in front of you.

“Pete!” You mocked the way he called you, using the same tone.

He gave you a playfully disgruntled look before quickly reaching into his backpack — which looked more like a knapsack, actually — to retrieve a cylindrical object and hand it to you nonchalantly. As soon you wrapped your fingers around it, he sped away again, a quick and impish ‘byeeee’ being the last thing within your earshot before the gush of wind took over your senses again.

It wasn’t until your day ended that you finally had the time to completely relax, stretching your legs and unbuckling your high-waisted, straight-legged pants. You wiggled your toes, sore from being in heels all day, as you relaxed into putty on yours and Erik’s shared bed.

Speaking of the devil — Erik came in not long after, tossing his shoes off and setting his things down on the bench next to your door before throwing himself on the bed next to you, also instantly letting himself relax.

He leaned closer to your side, laying his head on your chest and draping an arm over your stomach. Muscle memory kicked in as your fingers immediately found their way to run through his hair, a familiar habit between the two of you. He closed his eyes as the sweet, heavenly endorphins that came with the satisfaction of your touch washed over his body.

“How was your day?” He mumbled, too lazy to form his words properly.

“Pretty interesting. Finally convinced Logan to come to one of my classes next week. Students have been begging like crazy to meet him.” It was a history project, of which you and the Wolverine were both well-acquainted with, given your ages. “I’m getting the feeling that they think he’s a cooler teacher than I am.”

That made your husband laugh, the sound reverberating as you continued to cradle his head on your chest. “All of the students think Logan is cooler than any of us.”

“It’s not fair, isn’t it?”

“He’s like a mystery, that’s why. Never around long enough to be the one who yells at them for almost burning the school down.” He was talking, but his lips were barely moving and his eyelids were fluttering shut. You smiled softly, trying your best to keep your movements minimal as you continued your ritual to help him sleep.

“Like a cool uncle, then.”

“Yes.” A beat passed, then he spoke again when he remembered what he meant to tell you earlier. “Peter was in my class today.”

“Yeah?” You were slowly falling asleep as well, eyes half lidded and muscles starting to feel limp.

“He spent the whole of it with his head down, though.”

The very image of that made your eyes shoot open, all hints of sleep gone. “Why? What happened?”

It was unlike Peter to be uneventful — he was always doing something , be it throwing spitballs or participating in a one-sided blinking contest with whoever’s teaching in front.

“Nothing.” Erik mumbled groggily. “He was just…working on…something.”

Your skin itched and your eyebrows strained, discomfort firing up every synapse as you went through all the possible reasons. Then, your last interaction dawned on you.

“Honey, I know you’re almost asleep, so can you please hand me my bag on the bench?”

Without saying a word, he raised the arm resting on your body and used his powers to float it towards you, the metal handles clanking together when he dropped it carefully in your grip.

You didn’t have to move your sleeping husband to grab the cylinder you were thinking about, but you did almost startle him when his snores made you lose your grip on the bag.

He didn’t notice, too busy dozing off to even pay attention to what you were currently doing. You quietly unwrapped the roll of paper, barely caring about the sound of it crinkling — you knew your husband could sleep through anything when he was in your arms — since Erik’s snores were louder anyway.

The contents were confusing at first, you had to read it twice to understand that it was a voucher of some sort. With your arm still around Erik’s head, you used what restricted movement you had with your one free arm and just your hand to flip the paper over.

“What is this, Peter?” You mumbled to yourself, reaching for your glasses on the nightstand. Your vision weakened even in your abnormal age, and being far sighted was something you dealt with long before the triple digits hit you.

As if on cue, the answer to your rhetorical question was answered by the scrawling on the back which you recognised as Peter’s boyish handwriting.

‘Sorry for calling you old all the time. You know I’m just kidding. Thank you for always being so cool with me. Hope you like the vouchers for free ice cream. One’s for Erik too. - P.M’

Next to his initials was a doodle of a face with sunglasses on, a two-toothed grin to go with it. It was hard to wipe the pleasant smile off your face, so you kept it on, succumbing to the bubbly feeling. Peter was like a little brother that you couldn’t hate no matter how much you wanted to — you’d even go so far to say he was the son you never had.

You flipped it again, only noticing the name of the store being dairy goods related as you read through it for the third time. It still left you confused, since there was no sign of anything being free printed on it.

That’s when your eyes landed on the italicised font at the very bottom, bold red asterisks between the phrase.

* SENIOR CITIZENS GET 1 FREE CONE . *

Quickly, you turned it around to look at what you thought was an innocent letter written by one seemingly apologetic speedster. You didn’t miss the joke this time, written in very, very emboldened ink, so roughly scratched on the surface you wondered how you missed it in the first place. The smile you had on dimpled into a disbelieving simper.

P.S. HOPE YOU ARE WEARING YOUR GRANDMA GLASSES :D

[hannie-dul-set]

BFF PRO MAX — choi beomgyu.

p — CHOI BEOMGYU x gn! reader. g — fluff, suggestive. w — making out, spicy mmmm. 582 words.

note — wrote this in a trance at 4am the other day and i'm p sure it's still coherent. anyway i love beomie. i am in love with him. i am in—

choi beomgyu is convinced that there are tiny magnets dotted all over your palms and his because every time he’s within arms reach, you clasp your fingers around his like it’s your very ritualistic greeting. sometimes, it’s just your pinkies curled around each other’s when you’re nearing your apartment every time he walks you home. at times, you’re holding his hand whole, clammy and sweaty after hours of monopolizing his touch.

nevertheless, you’re always holding them— one by one, both at the same time. it raises questions from the rest of your friends: “are you two a thing now?” and your reply would always be “no! gyu and i are just good friends!” in the same cadence, same timbre, and it’s etched itself into a special corner in beomgyu’s head. a reminder. a warning.

choi beomgyu is also convinced that you wear sleeping potions instead of perfume. because whenever you cage him in your arms, no matter the time and place, he finds himself sinking into your sweet, dizzying scent and his eyelids grow heavy, taking in the magic you exude. he’d fall right asleep if you’re on the scratchy couch of his apartment, the television a mindless hum in the background as his consciousness slips away.

but of course, he can’t just fall asleep when you’re holding him at the cafeteria. your friends would jest and tell you two to quit the pda, but you’d tell them “we’re just friends! right gyu?” how can it be pda when you’re not a couple? 

most of the time, choi beomgyu would agree with you, laughing off their insinuations and brushing away the danger they carry. you’re right. you two have been friends for ten, fifteen years and the touches you exchange, the warmth you share, is simply because you’re both so, so close with each other that it can’t be mistaken as anything but platonic.

friends can call each other first thing in the morning. friends can greet each other goodnight and sleep tight. friends can wake up in each other’s bed’s the next say— the both of you would always need to explain that nothing but sleep happened.

however this time, choi beomgyu starts to question the friendliness of your exchanges. especially when you’re groaning his name into his mouth, pitch black, at the mcdonald’s parking lot near your apartment.

“gyu—”

it’s still the same name you call him, the same name you’ve been calling him since your parents forced a playdate on you at five years old. but the breathlessness of it is new, the desperation is foreign, and the desire to hear it over and over again in its addicting difference runs down his spine in a cold shudder.

“maybe we should— mph!”

it’s still the same hand he’s always held, the same curve and bend of your fingers, but you’ve never squeezed it so tightly before, never with your nails digging into the skin of his knuckles with each creak and squeak of the leather of his backseat.

“please—”

it’s still the same scent he’s been drowning in, the same spell casted when he’s holding you and vice versa, but instead of lulling asleep he’s now wide awake, alive and ravenous, burying his nose into your neck with a sweet inhale as he paints kisses on your collarbone and leaves marks on your skin.

choi beomgyu is convinced that this isn’t something that “just friends” do. but maybe, maybe you two are just really, really, really close best friends.

BFF PRO MAX. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[luvfy0dor]

"You Should Take it as a Compliment..." Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; Drinking, silliness

Description; really short Fyodor drabble for his birthday based on Gorgeous by Taylor Swift because I'm so djsmammsdk

A/n; he makes me so happy it turns back to sad

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You got drunk and made fun of the way he talks.

If he was being honest, he didn't mind watching you tipsily stumble over your words and blabber about whatever mundane topic you chose in the moment. Fyodor was more of a listener than a talker anyway.

His head rested against his knuckles, his violet eyes seemingly piercing through you as you mimicked Fyodors accent back to him. His lips darkened a bit with every sip of his red wine before he licked the off excess. He watched while you talked with both your hands and your mouth; giggling between words and occasionally wheezing like you were the funniest thing in the world.

"-but I can be as obnoxiously smart as I want, because I'm really gorgeous and enthralling, so it makes up for my astuteness." You say, your faux russian accent starting to fade at the end of your sentence. He grins a bit and sets his cup down, the glass clinking against the wood table. "Gorgeous and enthralling?" He repeats, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. You nod in response, sipping on your drink of choice. "So gorgeous it actually hurts." You reaffirm your statement with your full chest, not shying away from the truth.

Fyodor was flattered by your sweet words, but took your empty glass to the sink while you remained seated. "And why is that?" He asks from the kitchen. "You're just...I dunno, I love your hair, your eyes, your nose...your smarts...all that cheesy stuff." You murmur with such a lovestruck expression on your face. He stands behind your chair and guides you chin upwards to look at him, his raven colored hair gently caressing your face. "Well, I'm glad you find me appealing, my love." He pressed a soft and loving kiss to your lips, his thumbs gently running along your skin. You could still taste the wine on his lips and tongue, making you hum quietly as you reached up to cup his face.

You were the one to part from the kiss, pushing his face away from yours to catch your breath. He felt your hand pressed against his cheek, making him laugh quietly. "We should head to bed, my dear. You seem tired." He murmurs, rubbing your shoulders and arms before he pulls your chair out for you. You nod with a yawn and stand up, walking with him to your shared bedroom.

"Yeah, you're right...you always are." You say with a smile, resting your head on his shoulder. "I know you very well, I would never let something so obvious pass right under my nose." He states, pushing the door to the room open, guiding you to the bed. He crawls into the warmth of the blankets next to you and pulls your body closer to his. "Goodnight, Einstein." You say sarcastically. "I love you very much." You murmur, holding onto the fabric of his shirt and cuddling into his lanky frame. He hums and kisses your head quickly. "Goodnight, I love you too, my dear."

A/n; stop this song reminds me of this one girl cndnsk but anyways happy bday to my majestical beautiful sublime princess wife I love him

[harrywavycurly]

Trouble Next Door Part 15 part 2: Porch Convo

Find Part 15: Here

Masterlist: Here

TW: Cursing, Steve is drunk, mentions of cheating and divorce and a tiny small bit of violence

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @makingmunson94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @idkjoequinn @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99

A/N: I didn’t wanna have to make y’all wait too long for this so I hope you enjoy and that it’s everything you wanted it to be😂✨

“Yo Steve you’ve gotta go man….you don’t live here anymore.” “Where did…did you come from?” “Uh…my house?” “Oh…figured you’d be moved in here by now…why aren’t you?” “What? Why would…you know what it’s pointless…you gotta go okay? She doesn’t want you here.” “I miss her.” “Cool…but miss her from somewhere else before I call Hopper.” “She loves you.” “No shit we are bestfriends…we love each other…” “no she’s in love with you…it’s fucking obvious…so so obvious and I…I married her anyway and now…now everyone hates me and Dustin won’t even talk to me…” “you have to lay off the whiskey dude…it’s not your friend…clearly makes you delusional.” “I’m not fucking delusional you asshole! My wife is in love with you and the only way I could…test if she cared about me was to…do this.” “What…did you just say? You cheated on her to see if she actually cares about you?” “She doesn’t…she just kicked me out…Chrissy kissed me you know? During game night…she kissed me because she knew you wouldn’t care.” “Stop talking Steve.” “Said that you only care about one person and we both know who that is….so Chrissy just kissed me.” “Steve…for the love of god shut the fuck up and get off her porch.” “I don’t want a divorce…I don’t want Chrissy…I don’t love her…I love my wife.” “You don’t get to cheat on your wife just to see if she loves you or not then say you don’t want a divorce….you fucking sleaze-ball…now get up.” “Maybe I can make her love me the way she loves you…maybe she’ll come around.” “Not gonna happen…do you not see where you’re at? You’re outside her house begging for her to love you…but why would she ever let you into her house or her heart again…when she was actually madly in love with you what did you do? You fucked my wife…just to see if your actual wife would care? You’re a sick motherfucker Steve and you need to leave.” “Madly in love with me? Are you fucking joking?” “Does it look like I’m joking?” “She’s never been madly in love with me Eddie…she’s just been too stupid-” “don’t you ever call her stupid you fucking asshole.” “Jesus Christ…I think….I think you broke my nose.” “I didn’t…we’d both know if I did….now fucking leave before I do actually decide to break something of yours…” “I just want her to love me…like she loves you.” “Well…can’t say she’s gonna love me when I go in there and tell her I punched you in the face…I just need you to know something Harrington.” “What?” “She doesn’t love me the way she loved you…she didn’t marry me…she married you…she didn’t pick me…she picked you…not because she needed a place holder but because she fucking loved you.” “What?…what? No…no that’s not-” “it is true…she loved you man…but you fucked it all up…” “I…I gotta…I gotta go.” “Bout fucking time…oh and tell Chrissy all this shit about not loving her will ya? She is convinced you’re in love with her and want your happily ever after with her…but do it..gently please…” “Uh yeah…okay…yeah I’ll…do it gently…tell her I love her?….please?” “No…now goodnight Steve…go take a cold shower and have a cup of black coffee and you’ll be fine…send me the bill for the dry cleaning to get the blood out of your shirt…”

[fettuccin-e]

omg congrats!!! can you do “for one muse to drive and finger the other who is in the passenger seat.” with jake lockley?

thank you my love!! yeah,, getting fingered by any of the moon boys?? i mean, ive got two words: thick. fingers. so yes!!! also, jake lockley can dance. thank u and goodnight

In The Rearview

Tags: Jake Lockley x Reader, afab!fem!reader, fingering, dangerous driving habits, very VERY light degradation

Jake loves to take you dancing. There’s nothing in this world quite like seeing the excitement in your eyes when he tells you to wear your best dress, that he’s taking you out of the town to dance the night away until your cheeks are red and your feet ache. There’s nothing quite like your laughter as he spins you around before dipping you to the floor, your nails digging into his back, even though you know he’d never drop you. His alters definitely aren’t ones for dancing, but Jake would dance with you every night if he could.

Jake loves going dancing with you, truly, but the best part of the night is always the end. Pressing you against his chest, gripping your hips and grinding your pretty ass against him, tucking his face in the crook of your neck to suck tiny bruises into your skin. He loves feeling you shiver against his front while he whispers everything he wants to do to you in your ear. Telling you how sexy you are in your pretty dress, how he wants your heels to stay on while he fucks you when you both get home. You’re soaked in your panties, and Jake knows it. 

“Are you going to let me take you home, amor?” he whispers, as if he even has to ask. As if you both weren’t going back to sleep in the same bed anyway. As if you’d ever refuse him.

You moan softly and nod, and you feel Jake’s smug smile against your sweaty skin, before he’s wrapping a strong arm around your waist and leading you to the door. He opens the door to the limo for you, helping you into the passenger seat. Ever the gentleman.

Your apartment, one you had bought together with your boys, sits just a little outside the city. Quieter, neighbors less nosy, less street vendors lingering outside the door. You love your home, except on nights like these, where you just need one of your boys inside you as soon as possible. You settle in for the thirty minute drive, trying not to think about the aching between your thighs, but Jake is ravenous. He settles a calloused hand against your thigh, running it just under your dress. You spread your thighs slowly, trying to be subtle. But Jake notices. He always does.

“You want me to touch you, princesa?” Jake says, chucking slightly, the smug bastard that he is.

“You know I do,” you whine, half annoyed and half absolutely desperate. Jake reaches just a little farther lower, running a finger over the thin material of your panties, feeling how you’ve soaked through the lace. Your hips buck when he presses a harsh finger to your clit, a choked gasp escaping your throat.

“Dios, baby,” Jake grunts, the hand he has on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white. “That needy, huh?”

“Always,” you sigh, “Always for you.” You watch Jake’s jaw clench, and nearly cry when he takes his hand away from your clothed pussy.

“Take your panties off and spread your legs,” he grunts, leaving no room for argument. You lift your hips off the leather seat to drag your panties off your legs, toeing your heels off to take them all of the way off. You glance at Jake, his eyes still trained on the road ahead, and, perhaps against your better judgment, drape your panties across his lap.

“Amor,” Jake mutters through clenched teeth. “I will pull this car over, I swear to God.”

“What’s stopping you, baby?” you ask sweetly, taunting him, goading him.

“Because I’m going to fuck you so hard you pass out, and I’m not carrying your fucked-out body up the stairs to our apartment.” He speaks like he’s threatening you, as if your cunt isn’t clenching around the suddenly unbearable emptiness inside you. He slides his hand back over your thigh, calloused fingers finally connecting with your hot pussy. He slides a quick finger inside of you, crooking it hard until you’re gasping out a choked little moan. The palm of his hand grinds against your sensitive clit, and your hand flies up to grab at his wrist.

“Jake, fuck, oh Jesus,” you stutter over your words, unable to from a sentence at the sudden intrusion. Jake ignores you, sliding a second finger deep into you, right alongside the first. His fingers are thick, far thicker than yours, stretching you out. You can feel the sticky juices of your cunt dripping down, down onto the once-pristine leather of the seat. Your thighs are trembling, bucking into Jake’s hand. You gaze up at your boyfriend through glassy eyes, greeted with the sight of his strong jaw illuminated by the streetlights through the window.

His eyes are trained unwaveringly on the road, and he looks almost unaffected by what he’s doing to you. Almost. But you notice the clench in his jaw, and with a quick once-over of his body, drawn tight with tension, the thick bulge in his slacks.

You reach a hand over to palm at him, but his gruff voice stops you. “If you fucking touch me right now, princesa, you won’t cum for a fucking week.” Your hand snaps away immediately.

“Good girl, hermosa,” he mutters. You want to scream as he plays with the spongy spot inside your pussy. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to stretch you out on my fingers, and get you ready for my cock. You’re going to fucking take it, alright? You’re going to cum all over my fingers, and then, when you’re done, I’ll take you inside and fuck this pretty pussy. Am I clear?”

You nod, but Jake isn’t looking. You murmur out a soft, “yes,” and Jake grins. You barely have a moment to think before he’s jamming a third finger inside you and begins to hammer them into your pussy, harsh and unrelenting. He fucks you deep on his fingers, his palm continuing to press into your clit. Your thighs are shaking, hips twitching like you can’t decide if you’re trying to get away or get closer to Jake’s unrelenting thrusts.

You’re whining needily, and Jake’s gruff voice fills the car, unable to hold his words back when he’s got you at his mercy like this. 

“You’re so pretty, amor. Can’t wait to get you on my cock when we get home. You’re gonna be all stretched out, bebita, this sweet pussy is just gonna let me sink right in, yeah? Steven and Marc want a turn too, they think you look so pretty. They can fucking see you, you know.”

Your eyes snap up to the rearview mirror, meeting Jake's eyes for the first time since he got you into the car. He’s looking at you, and you’re suddenly achingly aware that Marc and Steven can see you too. They can see what Jake has reduced you to.

“They see how needy you are, bebita. How much of a slut you are for me, for us. Are you gonna cum for them, mi amor? Are you going to cum for me?”

“Yes-” you gasp, your voice breathy and high-pitched, overwhelmed with Jake's brutal thrusts right into your over-sensitive pussy. He plays with you like a toy, perfectly practiced and devastating.

“Then do it, amor. Want you to cum all over my fingers. Wanna feel this pretty pussy clench just like you’re going to clench around my cock later.”

Jake jams his fingers into you again, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re throwing your head back against the headrest, gasping out a high-pitched moan, nearly inaudible. 

“That’s it, princesa. So fucking pretty when you cum,” Jake murmurs, tearing his eyes from the road to look at you as you writhe in your seat, your pretty tits pushed out as your back arches. He stops thrusting his fingers, waiting for you to finish clenching around them.

As your body finally settles, he slips his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his face. You watch, mouth agape, as Jake licks his fingers clean of your slick, his eyes back to being trained on the road.

“You always taste so sweet for me, hermosa.” he murmurs, and you whine all over again, your shaky thighs snapping shut.

“What?” he asks, chuckling darkly, “too much already? C’mon, mi vida, you know that the night is far from over.” 

Your eyes widen as the car slows to a stop, right outside your apartment building. Fuck.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Blake and or weiss meet yang/rubys parents for the first time. Was thinking something similar to the goodnight kiss story, but do what you want lol. I ain't gonna force you to do anything.

Hey, @chaosbloot! I think I got something for this.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Goodnight Kiss in Vacuo pt. 2

Shade Academy

Blake: (tossing and turning in bed) Can't sleep... (glances at the door to the bedroom and bites her lip as she watches shadows pass underneath the door) No. No. It's too soon for that. We didn't even technically share a bed at Jaune's house in the Ever After.

Yang: (muffled laughter on the other side of the door along with two other voices)

Blake: But it was nice being so close.... (remembers the warm, floaty feeling she got from sleeping within close proximity to Yang)

Blake's Heart: (butterflies and warmth and floaty feeling with warm fuzzies) Go get our girl already!!!

Blake: Okay. Okay. Okay. I'll go ask. (Takes a deep breath and peeks out the door into the little dormatory common room)

Yang: (wheezing with laughter) No way! Qrow, you never told us that you wore the school skirt for a week when you were a student!

Qrow: Your dad told me it was a kilt!

Raven: Don't put all the blame on Tai, Qrow. Summer played along with it.

Qrow: You're just mad that my legs looked better than yours in that skirt.

Raven: Hardly the case now. I don't think those pasty white legs of yours have seen the light of day since then.

Yang: (laughing so hard she's crying silently and goes to wipe a tear when she notices Blake standing in the doorway) Hey, babe! Sorry, are we keeping you up?

Blake: Oh! No. Not at all. I just noticed that it was getting late and you hadn't come- GONE! Hadn't gone... to bed.

Raven & Qrow: (arch an eyebrow with a smirk at the slip and glance at each other)

Yang: (oblivious) I'll go to bed here in a minute. I was catching up with Qrow and hearing how Raven came around to help.

Raven: (gives Qrow a look of: "Can you believe this kid?")

Qrow: (exchanges with a look of: "She has Tai's obliviousness and your romance disasterdom. What do you expect?")

Raven: (rolls her eyes and stares pointedly at Blake) Hey, if you want to sleep with Yang, you're better off asking her directly instead of beating around the bush.

Blake: (blushes and steam billows out of her ears)

Yang: (blushes and sits ramrod straight) U-Uh... Blake?

Blake: Yes!

Yang: Did you... want to share a bed?

Blake: (ears flicker as her eyes flit between everyone in the room) I... wouldn't be opposed....

Qrow: Do you want to sleep with my niece or not?

Blake: Not like that!!! (Balks) Not yet anyway!!! (Gags at her words) I MEAN!!! YES!!! I would like to share a bed with Yang! (Turns to Yang) When are you coming to bed?!

Yang: (a flustered and blushing mess) I'll be there in five minutes!

Blake: Okay!

Yang: Okay!

Blake: I love you!

Yang: I love you too!

Blake: (stomps over to Yang in embarrassment, kisses her cheek, and sprints back into her bedroom)

Yang: (eyes flicking between red and lilac from embarrassment)

Raven: You were right. I do like her. I was a little worried after spying around post fall of Beacon.

Qrow: Told you. (Drinks his decaf coffee) Better get going, Firecracker. Your lady awaits.

Yang: (stammers and sputters) Right! Uh! Goodnight! (Trips over the chair as she rushes to the bedroom)

Raven: (sips her tea after the door slams closed) I give them six months before they're talking about marriage.

Qrow: I'll see your six months and put my money on our little Firecracker asking.

Raven: Please. That little shadow is clearly a woman who knows what she wants. My money is on the Faunus.

[simonsrosebud]

kevaaron cause why not

kevneil (both are acespec )

Matt/Nicky (I stan bi matt) Erik and Nicky are still friends but we're previously in a relationship, Erik has moved on (maybe nickys first love??)

andrew/Roland pre -series (theyre like a year apart cause I'm not sure how old Roland is but I've always thought of him to be a gay middle-aged man, but Andrew would be like underage and that's a nono)

Kandrew (acespec kevin?? Maybe on the demisexual spectrum??)

Renee/Allison/Dan or some variant/combination in the same au as Matt/Nicky

Jean/Neil , demisexual spec Neil

Kevin/Jeremy cause they were never given a chance and KEVIN I KNOW THERE'S GAY IN YOU demispec kev

Choose whichever pairing that inspires you most but PLEASE tag me in the writing cause I need more aftg in my life <3

okay i may definitely tag u if i do others but for the first one i couldn't help but do jeremy and kevin I JUST LOVE THEM

The thing about Jeremy, Kevin supposes, is that he really thinks that he could’ve been a Raven if someone had been paying attention all the way in West Virginia.  He had the same talent and stats that other strikers did when joining the line, had more of a height advantage than Riko ever did.

Being a Raven would have broken his spirit.  Kevin doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that, knowing that he probably would have contributed to it at some point.

But then he wouldn’t be this, free and spirited and so fearless in showing unabashed joy.  Here, sitting in Kevin’s car, babbling on about California and how Kevin really should visit him next time so that he can show him around.  “I’m glad the sun has finally reached you,” he’s saying, “You look good with a nice tan.”  And it’s taking too much out of Kevin to keep his eyes on the road.

Jeremy’s hotel is just off campus, but it’s not far, and Kevin does have time, so he leans against the hood of the car while Jeremy lifts himself up onto it because “the height difference isn’t fair”.  It's only three inches, Kevin doesn't dare point it out. And suddenly Kevin is reaching out to smooth his fingers through Jeremy’s hair, soft and smooth and golden in the setting sun.

“Maybe it’s all this hair weighing you down,” he says.

Jeremy smiles, wide and lopsided and lazy, and leans into his touch.  “Never.  The hair is part of my charm.”

Kevin settles his hand on the hood of the car, then, all long legs and tall torso leaning so casually, and he’s pretty sure Jeremy’s eyes linger on his arms for a second longer than normal.  It makes his chest fluttery, so he says, “That’s what I used to tell Jean.”

And oh, Jeremy lights up.  “Yeah?  He tells me it’s unbearable.”

“He’s an idiot.”  Why would anyone ever say that?  “I used to talk about you a lot… in the Nest.”  He doesn’t really know why he says it other than he and Jeremy won’t be in the same place forever and Neil told him to stop holding back just because he’s scared of getting a letter in the mail from Ichirou himself.  So long as you send them their money and stay out of jail, your free time is your own.

With the way Jeremy preens at his confession, he thinks it’s the right call, anyway.  He taps Kevin’s closest finger with his pinky.  “What, about exy?”

“No.”

Surprise.  “Oh.”  Jeremy’s skin is honey gold and bronzed from the constant California sun, but Kevin’s never seen him sunburned.  The tinge of pink on his cheeks may be as close as he’ll get.  “Can I tell you something embarrassing?”

Oh no.  Kevin steels the lead in his stomach.  “Sure, anything.”  He can feel it coming, the inevitable, I feel flattered, you know, but I just don’t-

“I used to have a poster of you in my bedroom at home.” 

God, this was even worse.

“But I took it down once my older brother caught me kissing it goodnight before bed.”

Oh…?

Kevin opens his mouth, but doesn’t know what to say.  Instead, a smirk starts taking over his lips.  “You had… You used to kiss me?  Every night?”

Jeremy’s blush has traveled the length of his neck, but at least he laughs softly.  “Until I was, like, almost sixteen, yeah.”  Kevin taps his pinky finger back.  “Now I just do it in my head.”

Pause.

Kevin whips his head back up, shock surely coating his face.  “You what?”

And Jeremy’s face falls.  “I-I just mean- sorry, I didn’t- oh god, I just made this super,” he slides off the hood of the car, “awkward.  That’s not- I just meant that, like-“

Kevin grabs his hand when he gets too far.  Jeremy freezes, but doesn’t dare move.  Kevin works on his words, lets his mouth fish open while he tries forming them, and eventually says, “If I had a poster of you,” he frowns, “I’d, um…” he looks up at Jeremy, vulnerable and confused and maybe, possibly, the least bit hopeful.  “I’d kiss you goodnight, too.”

Grinning, now, Jeremy lets his hand fall further into Kevin’s, and gives it two squeezes.  “You can, you know,” he whispers.  He meets Kevin’s eyes slowly.  “If you want.”

Nothing could stop the jackhammering in Kevin’s chest, or the rushing of blood in his ears from how red his face probably is, but Jeremy’s voice comes through right as rain regardless.  He gives his hand a tug, pulling Jeremy closer, and steps towards him so that he has to look down at him.  Those three inches are going to kill him.

But Kevin must be taking too long, because then Jeremy’s hand is sliding up the side of his neck and pulling him down, and Kevin’s hands go flying to his sides, falling into the dip of his waist and wishing they could run up along his skin.  Jeremy sighs a bit into his mouth and drags his tongue along Kevin’s bottom lip, and then Kevin is pulling him closer until their chests are flush and his hands can slide underneath the thin t-shirt, hand splaying on Jeremy’s lower back and wanting to curl itself into the skin there.

Jeremy’s tongue is warm and slick and Kevin tries not to be embarrassed when he moans lightly into his mouth.  It makes Jeremy smile against his mouth, which really is Kevin’s own fault because he did not want this kiss to end.  Jeremy tucks back in for one more kiss, shorter but sweeter, his fingers gently scratching at Kevin’s scalp, and searches Kevin’s face from only inches apart when Kevin subtly tilts his head into his hand.

“I kinda had one more embarrassing thing,” Jeremy pants a little, a warm smile poking through, and god, everything about him is warm and sweet, so so sweet.  His skin underneath his shirt is warm like a fresh batch of cookies; tongue like a melted marshmallow daring to fall apart in your mouth;  smile like a rainbow after a hot summer shower and disposition of one that reminds Kevin of his mother’s comfort, of Abby’s hugs and his father’s safety.

Jeremy himself is a son of Apollo, Kevin is sure of it.

But Kevin doesn’t trust his own voice, right now, so he just nods and hums in encouragement.  He holds Jeremy close more decidedly, taking advantage of the contact and flattening his palms along the bare skin of his back and waist below his shirt.  He thinks for a moment it sends shivers down Jeremy’s spine.

For this, though, Jeremy goes up on his tip toes and tilts Kevin’s head to grant him his ear.  He nips at it, first, sending a shiver down Kevin’s spine, and says, “You’ve been number one on my list since I was fourteen.”

“God.”  It’s not intentional, but Kevin doesn’t even care at this point.  He’s heard all about these lists from Nicky.  He knew what it meant.

Jeremy laughs, quiet and contained and goofy, and props his elbows on Kevin’s shoulders to shelter them in.  “Would you like to come up to my room?”

[biscuitblinkeu]

All You Had to Do Was Ask [2]

Kim Jisoo x Fem!reader

Word Count: 4562

Quick!: You’re still getting used to your wife, and she hopes your over it sooner than later. After learning that the sweet-swoons that come from her lips are reserved for you, you don’t know how to act. You try your best to contact your brothers but to no avail, the forest is against you. Turns out all you had to do was ask!

A/N: Got it out faster than I expected, and my sister helped a lot so I’m grateful for that. But this will probably be the normal word count for every chapter now on!

Jisoo seemed to grin at that, much wider than before. She leaned in close, her hands moving up from your ankles before resting on your thighs firmly. “Shall I show you how it is, then, darling? Would you let me be the first to deflower you?” Jisoo purred, eyes gazing darkly at you. You were certain she saw you shiver. 

You were afraid of this woman. She was making you feel things, making you nervous with her intense gaze and her touch. You were scared of the way she spoke and the way her voice sounded whenever she used it, the way it made your knees weak and sent tingles down your spine. She made your skin crawl in such an odd and exciting way. 

The feelings were foreign, and you weren’t one to go exploring just for the fun of it. You pushed her back by the shoulders gently; she didn’t resist. “I’m sorry, but I-I can’t,” you said weakly.

“Can’t or won’t, my love?” You stayed quiet, prompting Jisoo to huff. “That’s a real shame, however, I’d never force you.” Jisoo sighed, taking a few steps back much to your relief. Her ears flickered and she crossed her arms, looking at you with comprehension. “This is going to be difficult;  you make me…ravenous.”

You must’ve had a look of pure horror on your face because she chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “Get those silly thoughts out of your head. I thought I made it clear I didn’t want to kill you?”

“Right,” you said dumbly. Maybe she didn’t want to kill you now, but later was uncertain.

Jisoo hummed, looking around the room before gazing at you again. “You will have to know some things, a few rules; and you will pick up things as time passes, but know, in every way possible— I will have you. I do not like sharing; I’m very possessive over what is mine,” she voiced seriously. 

You nodded and Jisoo smiled and approached again. You tensed up when she leaned down and unexpectedly gave you a kiss on the forehead. Her lips were soft and warm, and they lingered for a few moments. “Have a goodnight, I will see you in the morning, my love.” She began to walk towards the sliding door.

“You’re not sleeping in here?” You blurted, heat blooming at the back of your neck when she turned around and grinned, canines on display. Why did you even ask her that? You don’t want her to sleep beside you anyways, nor did you care about marital normalcy after being revealed. 

“I’m aware that’s a part of marital duties, but I’d like you to be more comfortable with me first. It wouldn’t do if you jumped out of your skin every time I shifted in bed or touched you now would it?” And without waiting for a response, she was gone. 

You sat there for a few moments, then let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. With its release your shoulders sagged and you curled in on yourself, head down; legs tucked up to your chest. It was quiet (save for the occasional hoot of an owl and crickets). Inside, however, there was an internal loudness— of thoughts.

Don’t, you told yourself sternly, just, don’t.

Don’t cry. Don’t think about anything.

 It will be okay. Everything will be fine.

…

But it wasn’t fine, no matter how many times you told yourself it was. Assaulted by images of your family, tears escaped your eyes and you sniffled and you sobbed, pushing yourself towards the headboard where you rested your head on the large pillows. You cried till you couldn’t produce tears anymore and till your head was throbbing; and by then you were truly exhausted.

As you began to slip into sleep, you could still feel Jisoo’s lips. The sensation still lingered on your forehead like a ghost, and you couldn’t stop yourself from remembering the feeling, the gentle pressure that left your skin buzzing, because strangely it brought you comfort.

…

You awoke to a sudden bright light infiltrating your closed eyes and the sound of humming. You opened your eyes gradually, vision somewhat foggy and dark, to see a figure standing by the now open window. You didn’t remember a window being— oh. You frowned.

You were still here. Away from your family. A Kumiho’s bride. 

“Good morning, Mister! — Or should I say Ms.?” She giggled. “I hope you slept well?”

The voice was Keo-woo, who you identified as the more energetic servant, not to mention the familiar jungle of the bells she had in her hair. You blinked, sitting up slowly. Your mouth was dry, and you were glad to see a glass of water on the nightstand. You drank it at a leisurely pace, watching the child-servant bounce around your room.

“I find it strange that if humans sleep too long, it has consequences, and if they sleep too little, it also has consequences. I bet it's fun to sleep though,” she rambled.

You cleared your throat, “You…don’t sleep?”

“Oh, no, that’s impossible. I have to keep working during the day and night. I’m physically unable to go to sleep anyways— I don’t even have eyes,” she told you seriously.

She doesn’t have eyes? Is that why she wears a mask? If so, you didn’t dwell on it and instead asked, “Then how do you get energy? Eating?”

“By playing!” She giggled, clapping her hands. “Would you play with me sometime? Jisoo doesn’t always have time to and playing with Jiseul is always so boring— and you seem like fun!”

You paused to take another sip from the glass before answering. You wanted to say: No. No, I am not a fun person to play with and please leave me alone (well, maybe you were still unsure if you should just accept how things were now and were unfairly taking it out on Keo-woo.) But she was so happy and so excited, and you were tired, so you swallowed your petty reluctance and nodded, giving her a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

Suddenly Keo hugged you tightly, which made you grunt slightly from the pressure, but you still accepted her affection with a small chuckle.

She retreated. “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I promise it’ll be fun! We could play hide and seek or tag or…” she rattled on, bouncing in place in front of you. “But oh— I’m getting carried away; I have to get you ready for the day. You didn’t get to take a bath last night after you arrived with everything happening, so we’ll start with that, okay?”

You nodded wordlessly, deciding to let her do her job and not give her a hard time. A bath would be nice, you thought as she led you out of the room and into a luxurious bathroom adjacent to it. 

The first thing you noticed was the large bathtub, the same size as the wall behind it, which was steaming and had flower petals floating in the bubbly water. The room had a delicious scent to it, reminiscent of jasmine and vanilla. There was also a large mirror on one side, its border made of gold. Flowers lavishly decorated the room, and you found yourself unable to look away. You’ve never seen those types of flowers before.

Keo-woo stopped in the middle of the room. “Taking in account how the village-servants bathed you— those barbaric, uncultured servants with no… All I want to say is we do things differently here and that'll make you more comfortable. Normally I’d help you bathe and do things, but I’m sure you’d want to bathe yourself? Have some time alone to relax?”

You nodded. 

“And before I leave, there’s a robe hanging up over there, along with undergarments Jisoo procured. Your outfit will be waiting in your room, and I’ll come back to help you with your hair, okay? Great.”

The door shut behind you with a click as Keo-woo left and you double-checked that it was locked. Then you took off your clothes and stepped in the bathtub. You sighed at the feeling of warm water against your skin, and relaxed into the bubbles until only your head was left. You eyed your clothes at the side of the tub distastefully; another reminder of your situation.

You relaxed in the tub for a while before actually scrubbing your skin and rinsing off. Once out, you dried off with a towel and then curiously looked at the undergarments laid on the dresser. They weren’t lingerie in any way, just regular and cotton. You picked the black bra up, surprised because you could actually fit it. It was the same with the underwear. Keo-woo said Jisoo got these? How did she know your size?

You then crossed the room and reached for the robe, putting it on. The soft, almost velvety feel of the material as you pulled it across your skin made you smile. The robe came down mid-thigh; and the sleeves ended at your elbows. It had a belt that you tied around your waist to keep it closed.

Opening the bathroom door, you peaked in the hallway not really wanting to be caught by stray servants, or worse, by the Kumiho. You tiptoed to your room, relaxing when you locked the door behind you.

Your clothes were indeed sitting on the vanity mirror’s chair. You pushed the robe down your shoulders, causing it to pool at your waist and forearms, and were just beginning to reach for the clothes when you heard a sneeze. 

(“A-chiiaaa.”)

You yelped, turning around so fast you felt slightly dizzy for a moment. Heart beating against your ribcage, jaw slackening more as you recognized the figure sitting on your bed that definitely wasn’t there before. 

Dressed in a beautiful black dress and a matching bow that tied up half of her hair, contrasting her white ears, she sat on the edge of your bed, facing you. 

Jisoo sniffled, scrunching her nose. “It’s a bit stuffy in here, you should open the windows,” she murmured. She uncrossed and crossed her legs, putting the right one on top of the left one now as she leaned back on her hands. She then stared, dark eyes trailing from your partially-covered thighs to the open, top-half of the robe where they lingered. She knew the undergarments would look good on you. 

You picked up your jaw that briefly fell on the floor and scowled, pulling the robe more securely on your shoulders hastily, causing her to pout. “You— Why are you here??”

“Is it such a crime to want to see my wife before breakfast?” She asked as she stood up, making her way towards you.

“Yes!” You hissed, clutching your robe tighter in the front. It is when you're not fully clothed! (In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t be talking to a Kumiho with such an attitude.)

Jisoo stopped in front of you, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Is that so?…” She trailed off. Then you were abruptly pulled flush against her by the hips. Your hands flew to her shoulders, and you pushed yourself back to create what little space you were allowed.

 “Jisoo…” You warned, unsure whether to try and push her back again or stay still. The smell of her perfume, mixed with an underlying scent of something you couldn’t place; something intoxicating, tickled your nose. 

Nonetheless, her face was too close— all her picturesque features were magnified and her eyes looked almost black, yet they were expressive. They flickered across your face, familiarizing themselves with your features. They were searching. For what? You were absolutely clueless. They roamed your face, finally landing onto your lips.

“Jisoo.” You said again, more firmly. 

She looked at you again, bringing her hand up to your face. “I do so love the way you say my name.” She teased, running her fingers lightly against your cheeks. You gulped, trying to swallow past the lump that suddenly formed in your throat; despite the heat that radiated from her touch, you didn’t dare move, afraid of being burnt.

“You– what?”

She smiled. “I’m sorry for startling you, darling. But I don’t regret it, you’re beautiful.”

“Do you say things like that to everyone that gets sent to you?” You mumbled. Jisoo heard, and a dangerous glint flashed in her eyes.

If she was going to respond, she didn't have the time to, as a knock sounded at the door. It opened a moment later. Keo-woo was holding a tray with hair clips and accessories. The servant looked surprised at Jisoo’s presence.

She regarded Jisoo, bowing her head slightly, before shuffling over to the vanity next to you. Jisoo let go of you, taking a step back. She raised an eyebrow at you, silently saying she would come back to this. 

“Which one is prettier?” Keo-woo turned to Jisoo holding a beautiful black clip that had gold flowers engraved onto it, and another, a gold-toned, metallic, rectangular-shaped clip.

Jisoo smiled and pointed to the metallic accessory, “That one.”

You sat yourself in the wooden chair in front of the mirror, as directed by Keo-woo. You locked eyes with the fox-demon in the mirror. “I shall see you soon,” Jisoo intoned. She left the room, and you stared at the door with a sinking feeling. You were subtly chastened just now. Earlier, you’ve said something you shouldn't have said.

“You’re still not dressed?” Keo-woo whined. “Hurry, I can’t do your hair unless you get dressed first!”

…

After you got ready, you and Keo-woo made your way to the dining room, and were currently walking side by side.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why was Jisoo in your room earlier?” Keo-woo asked.

“She said she wanted to see me before breakfast,” you told her honestly. 

“She's made an exception this time I see.”

“An exception?” 

“Jisoo is very busy: she doesn’t usually show up for breakfast,” she told you. 

“I see…” You wondered why it was different now that you were here. Did she not eat breakfast with her past offerings?

You took a left turn, and down the hallway was a singular, grand door. You stopped and stared at the door. It was made of dark oak, designs of different foxes and landscapes were carved into it, along with a language unfamiliar to you.

“What’s written here?” You asked.

 Keo gave you a glance then shrugged slowly. “Only Jisoo knows, but I wager it’s the fox god’s language.”

Then the doors opened slowly, revealing a dining table that was elegant and long, containing fine polished wooden chairs with engraved roses and small flower decor on the legs. In the middle of the table there was a bouquet, and several platters set out already. There were glass windows all around the room, illuminating the crystal table with light that reflected prettily on the walls - and on the Kumiho who sat on the far end to where you entered. You suspected you were supposed to sit directly across from her, on the other side of the table. You began heading over, stopping when she called your name and gestured to the seat beside her. 

“Please, sit near me, darling.” She practically purred, smiling widely. You only nodded, hesitantly coming over to the spot. Once you were seated, she grinned and gestured to a taller, masked servant, who opened a steel door. Out rushed servants carrying covered, metal plates of food. A variety of dishes were placed at each seat (20 in total including your seat). Placed in front of you was a breakfast reminiscent of one you would eat back in the village. Compared to the other dishes, it was less extravagant, more simple, but it made you smile.

“I thought you would want something from home? Or if it’s not to your taste you can eat something else if you’d like?”

“No, this is fine, really. Thank you. But are you not eating?”

“I prefer not to eat what I like in front of you, it may be grotesque and ruin your appetite.”

You nodded stiffly. Grotesque? So she eats humans after all? Noticing you tense up at that, she clears her throat. “What I eat is nothing near what you could be thinking.” 

You nodded, feeling strangely reassured. Popping the yolk of your egg over rice and beef, you brought a portion to your lips, only to pause. Beside you, where a plate of cooked salmon was placed, silverware hovered in the air, cutting the salmon with a knife. It was like someone was eating next to you, yet they were invisible. Then you looked around and noticed all the other plates being eaten up by invisible individuals. What in the world?

Jisoo chuckled. “Some of the servants prefer to stay unseen, they can be very shy. Do not be alarmed though.”

Breakfast passed by surprisingly without incident, and you quickly got used to the invisible servants. Still, you found yourself unable to finish anything, no matter how tasty it looked, with Jisoo burning a hole through you. You felt self-conscious. She attempted to make small talk and ask about your life as you ate, but you avoided any serious conversation. And despite brushing most things off, she was content with just about anything from you, even if you said one word. 

“I don’t tell that to everyone that gets sent to me,” She speaks at some point, quiet, referring to the interrupted conversation earlier. “And you suit the word beautiful the best. Is that so unbelievable?”  

You didn’t say anything, stuffing a spoonful of rice in your mouth to hide that you were flustered. You could feel her stare on you, as if she could read your thoughts, but you refused to meet her eye. Once you had finished your meal, she rose from her seat and came behind you and lifted your chin, placing a kiss on your head. “I have some errands to run, so I’ll be taking my leave. Feel free to explore the manor, and take a servant with you.”

…

Jiseul and Keo-woo pulled you aside as soon as you left the dining area, immediately dragging you outside to a large open garden. Upon seeing it, a small gasp left your mouth, and you became entranced. There were roses, daffodils, sunflowers, wisteria, lilies, and about every flower you could ever imagine, even your mother’s favorite type, a chrysanthemum. They were potted symmetrically, even planted on small hilltop mounds with numerous stone statues of foxes and yokai. Crystals and gems shone in the dirt, seemingly powering the plants with nutrients as they glowed every few seconds. In the middle of the garden there was a large water fountain in an octagon shape, surrounded by vines and ivy. 

Your focus was broken by a sharp tug on your arm by one of the servants, and you glanced down to see Keo-woo. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She asked, referring to the luxurious garden. You nodded, and she made a small noise of approval. 

“Jisoo planted the garden herself!”

“Ah, she did?” Your lips parted in awe. “No wonder it’s so pretty. I’ve noticed a lot of flower memos in the manor, Jisoo must like flowers a lot.” 

“Yes she does,” Jiseul chimed in, then took your other arm. “Let’s play a game.” 

“Alright,” You said fondly. “What kind of game?”

“Hide and seek—and then tag, please? Please?! This is the perfect space!” Keo-woo begged.

You nodded at that, slightly overwhelmed by such energy they had. Hide and seek was a different matter, whereas there were plenty of places to hide, like in the greenhouse, forest, and gardens. You got found every time when they were the seeker (and you believed they were cheating, using their abilities maybe, because you had some pretty good hiding spots). 

During tag you found yourself chasing them the most due to how much you got tagged and how fast they were. You all were careful not to ruin the flowers by dodging with light steps. 

“Alright,” you heaved at some point, all breathless and flushed. “Why don’t you two keep playing and I'll take a little break?”

“Okay!” They said simultaneously, running off to continue their little games. You sat on a nearby stone, relieved you were off your feet. They were coming up with another game, something about being a knight. They were playing pretend. Jiseul wanted to be the knight, which erupted into an argument since Keo-woo wanted to also be the knight. She argued that he was too timid and she was far more courageous. 

You watched them bicker with an amused smile, yet your eyes were sad. They reminded you of your brothers. One energetic and seemingly always joyful, the other much calmer and rationalistic, making sure the other stayed safe. You felt a heavy feeling settle over as you reminisced, and a sharp pang to your heart that left you longing. You couldn’t help but wonder how they were doing. Did they miss you too? Were they doing well? They must, and you hoped they weren’t incredibly worried. Were they eating well? Taking care of themselves? Did Dong-woo keep her word? You hoped she did. And as you sat there wondering and worrying, you had an epiphany. You would send them a letter, some form of communication to let them know you're alive and well. 

…

It was the morning of the next day, and you were determined to send a letter to your brothers— behind Jisoo’s back. With the help of Jiseul, you had managed to gather the necessary supplies to get started writing the letter, although you had some difficulty. Your letters were quite long, and you knew you needed to get your point across in a shorter way. When you were satisfied with your letter, you were ready to send it. 

Although, sending it, and even making it to the sending process proved harder than you imagined.

After your first draft (because you had to write a new letter after something went wrong) was finished, you took a break and went to the bathroom. You came back to a crow hopping on your desk, having come through your open window.

“Shoo!” You hissed, flapping your hands. The crow tilted its head, unbothered by your presence and began poking around your desk. “Get lost!” You tried again, getting closer.

The crow then picked up your letter— how it picked that out of any of the papers scattered around your desk was beyond you— and preened its feathers.

“No!” You yelled, raising your hands up. “Drop it— hey!” The crow had flown off with your letter. 

The second letter you made, you kept your window closed. No birds were going to steal it this time. But the bird wasn’t the only obstacle. Whether it was the sky suddenly deciding to pour on your way to the south-gate mailbox, Keo-woo mistaking it for garbage, the letter flying away with the wind, or some random dog named Dalgom snatching it from your hand and chewing it up— you could not get that letter out. Jisoo didn’t mention that she had a pet!

One, rather sullen day— the third day of trying to send a letter secretly— Jiseul entered your room without knocking. He stopped in front of you and stared till you barked What?! at him. He asked why you gave up.

“Because I have no more options! Sending a letter clearly won’t work—” 

“We could sneak out,” Jiseul suggests.

“Sneak out?” You asked with raised brows. 

“Yes. We can go and see your family.”

“Really? But why?”

“Your moping is very depressing.” 

You frowned but didn’t argue. 

“We’d have to do it tonight though. I know the Barrier’s weakest location for tonight. Perhaps you could pass through.”

“Let’s do it.”

…

You could see the barrier nearing with each step you took towards the edge of the Forest, following behind Jiseul carefully with your hand in his. It was dark, almost too dark to the point you couldn’t make out anything besides the white clothing on the servant in front of you. Numerous sounds echoed around you both - the cries of birds, the wails of animals, and the branches snapping underneath both of your feet. After several minutes you made it, and in front of you was an almost translucent barrier, reflecting dull colors of the outside area. 

“This is it,” Jiseul said, stepping aside. “The weakest part of the barrier. All you have to do is walk through within five seconds of me opening it, and then—“ 

“Sneaking out, are we?” A booming voice filled the atmosphere, and you flinched. All of a sudden the sounds of the Forest got quiet, dying down to the lowest whisper as if the creatures themselves were scared.  

“I think we should go back,” You fretted. “She sounds— Are you kidding me?” You groaned. Jiseul was gone, just like the time before. 

Jisoo sounded close. And you were getting a strong sense of déjà vu. You took a step back from the barrier and hit something solid. The familiar scent of the Kumiho enveloped you and you knew you've done it now. “Jisoo!” You gasped, attempting to quickly move away but she reached her arms out, swiftly circling them around your waist tightly and pulling you back. “Jisoo, I—”

“Shh.. You should’ve asked to leave, I would’ve taken you myself. It would’ve saved you from all this trouble of coming out here late. You don’t even have something warm on,” she chastened.

“How did you know I was…?” 

She turned you around, “I know everything that goes on in this forest.” The animals are her eyes and ears, the Barrier her trap and defense.

“Why did all my letters fail to make it out?” You couldn’t help but ask. Was your bad luck her causing?  

“It was not my doing, I assure you. The forest and those dwelling in it are a living barrier. Nothing gets in or out without my permission. It’s merely a protective measure. But if you had asked…”

“…Right.” You looked down to avoid her eyes. If you weren’t so cautious around Jisoo, getting around on your tippy-toes, fearing what would happen if you made a mistake, you wouldn’t be in this situation. She’s implying all you had to do was ask, and she would’ve let you and-or helped you. 

“What do I have to do to get you to understand I’m not all bad?” Jisoo wondered, taking your hands in hers. She smoothed her thumbs over the skin there, tracing miscellaneous shapes. There was something sullen about it, almost like she was disappointed in you. 

“I don’t know,” You murmured. “I just—I’m scared. I don’t know if I can trust you or marry you when I was whisked away from my family in a matter of hours— to come here. And all the stories I’ve heard? It’s just…hard.” 

“I understand, and I truly apologize. I cannot get rid of your doubts with a snap of a finger, but I do hope you will come to learn that a lot of those stories aren’t true.” she said sincerely. 

“Yes,” you whispered.

Jisoo squeezed your hands. “How about we visit them? Would you like that? It’s much better than sending a letter.” 

A/N: Trying to get out of the habit of using “…” to break up scenes or time skips lol. And I hope y’all realize that when I write purred, growled, or what not, I don’t mean it literally… It’s more of a tone thing- like, for example, purred is like a seductive tone? 🙁

Would you like to continue?

[simpyshrimpy]

New draconia family tree just dropped. some chap 7 spoilers, some are ocs still

i do not know how three generations of women mommy dragon ladies ended in a boy honestly i feel like that means its rigged. anyways-

Maldra Draconia - Big red dragon old as time itself, this is where the Draconia's get their pretty green eyes from. Also though, just like all of the Draconia's in canon twisted wonderland. she's an absolute horror. I'm talking country destroyer to the point that if Tenebris hadn't somehow accidentally seduced her- the world probably would have ended. and it only got worse from there, because.... both her and Tenebris were strong af so Maleficia came out even stronger...

Rex Tenebrarum - that's just his title technically. I just translated king of darkness into latin smh. Tenebris is his nickname. Fae names are power guys. He's so anal about it even his own wife doesn't know his true name. Which isn't to say that he doesn't love her, but just that he takes every measure necessary to protect himself and in turn, his family. Somehow he accidentally seduced Maldra and then she actually forced him to marry her- but don't worry- he was totally into it.

Maleficia Draconia- Somehow even stronger than both of her parents. Terrifying. Her dad kept her more mellow than her mother thankfully, but she's still horrible and her mother lets her cause havok anyways. Dad has to come in and stop her halfway but by then some citys are still gone....

Dante Draconia- He'll come up in the future, so i haven't decided much on him, but i do want it to be a theme where the draconia women just strong arm these men who accidentally seduce them into marrying them. Poor guy. He probably mellows out grandmommy draconia though.

Other than that, things will be close to the canon universe. Lilia, Mallenoa, and Raven will all still be childhood friends, although Lilia will be doing fieldtrips to Kumiko's mountain to train. Maybe for summer vacation! And of course, Mallenoa will not allow him to have fun without her- Which also means Raven comes too.

Grim, Kumiko and the reader will be like summer camp counselors with a world destroyer dragon fae, bratty little future hardcore general lilia, and also a bird who probably cries whenever he makes eye contact with kumiko.

Also no- i do not subscribe to the Crowley is Raven theory guys. C'mon. I wouldn't want any future where Mallenoa died tragically while Raven was still alive. I'd like to think he'd go to hell before he ever leaves her high and dry.

Also we'll probably try to prevent them from dying in this world. I haven't worked out the specifics yet. Maybe it ends up being their fate to die- or maybe I'll decide that since we hold some sort of power over this world, that we can defy even fate itself. It's the same problem I'll have to think over with Ortho. Since the original ortho is dead and the one we all know and love is just a recreation of a dead kid...

Welp. That's a problem for future Shrimpy. Not me. goodnight and please remember that i love malleus-

[sallufix]

LUCROW PIRATE AU MASTERPOST!

The Lucrow Pirate AU is... Well... LuCrow! But... Pirates. Yeah. The black ravens are there too. ANYWAYS, ONTO THE POST!

This AU will be Medieval + Steampunk themed!! So steampunk pirates! Yipee!!

Some characters will either be other pirates, or sea creatures. (Not decided yet, but im sure i can make both work)

The au will be focused on LuCrow and the black ravens, but ill try to fit as msny characters and arcs as possible!

These are the designs as of Chapter 1!

Many locations will be varied, but they will always have something steampunk related cause im a nerd and i love steampunk ok shut up thank you

The ship will never change in the chapters i think because im too lazy to alter the design uhm. Do you think im a designer. Look at this. What the fuck is this. WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE RANDOM GEARS AND CLOCKS IS THIS ALL I VIEW OF STEAMPUNK WHAT

So yes thats all. What. I was expecting more. No genuinely. I made like 5 drawings and more for this is this even a masterpost at this point

I SWEAR I FORGOT 10 THINGS I WAS SUPPOSED TO SAY HERE...

Im so sorry you guys please send asks my way if you have any questions im such a dumbass i cant remember shit

Anyways here's the fic where ill probably post more chapters of?? Probably?? No promises??

CHAPTER 1 SPOILERZZ!!

Hehe. I was so lazy. Oh my god. This looked horrible. Whatever. You don't know how much ive postponed posting this it is currently 1 am i shouldve been asleep at 11 pm holy shit no no no no

WHATEVER. GAY PEOPLE. BOOM ANYTHING FOR GAY PEOPLE. TAKE MY SLEEP SCHEDULE. MY ANYTHING. LOOK AT THEM. ROTATES THEM.

Anyways ooOOooOH pirate luke?! At the. At the end of the fic!? Wowie!! Anyways goodnight im gonna wake up and realize everything has dissolved into salt thank you

[nori-writes]

Home Sweet Home

Yeehan

Desc: Cole coming home from a mission late at night and just snuggling into bed with his lover, Hanzo Shimada.

W/C: 500+

A/N: Here’s the rest like a promised :)

Missions sucked, plain and simple, they always did. Sure, you were doing some good in the world and being called a hero but that didn’t change how exhausting the job was, always coming home sleep deprived, sweaty and grimey and usually at the worst hours too. Yet, they still did it.

It was about 4 AM when Cole’s dropship finally landed. Now normally this wouldn’t be such an abnormal time for him to be awake anyway but recently he had been working on making himself a healthy sleep schedule. It wasn’t helping that Jack wanted to debrief as soon as they got off the ship. Couldn’t it wait until morning?

By the time that was over it was at least 5:30 AM. He had expected the debrief to last maybe thirty minutes, nowhere near an hour and a half, but that was what happened when you were gathering intel for a week he guessed.

Finally, Cole slugged back to his room, exhausted by the last week of work. He was tired and hungry but hungry could wait until after he woke up he thought while unlocking the door to the small living space.

Opening the door he was greeted by the smell of home, home sweet home. Everything was just the way he remembered it. Or at least close to it.

Walking to the bedroom and opening up the door under the dark grey covers laid Hanzo. Cole’s heart melted at the sight. If he got to come home to this every night he’d go on every mission in the world. His hair was down and his face held an ethereal expression. The low moonlight seemed to hit his face perfectly as he slept. The way he could just sit here and stare for hours.

After what seemed like an eternity of admiring his lover finally he slipped off the clothes from the mission, changing into a grey pair of sweatpants, climbing into bed, wrapping his arms around Hanzo.

His eyes opened revealing his onyx coloured irises, slowly focusing onto Cole, “Mm,” he grumbled, closing his eyes again, “You’re back? What time is it?” His voice came out soft and hoarse.

Cole hummed, letting him know he was, “It’s me pumpkin, it’s about 5:30. Now go back to sleep.”

Hanzo had turned himself around so he could face Cole so that he could wrap his arms around him, laying his face in the nape of his neck, “You smell like shit.”

The brunette let out a quiet laugh, Hanzo could never deal with poor smells. It’s part of the reason that the house had candles everywhere and bottles of air freshener always in reach. Cole kissed the top of his head while running his fingers through his long silky raven coloured hair., “Sweetheart, I just got home like five minutes ago. I’m not gonna smell like sunshine and flowers.”

All he let out was a disapproving hum, “I want you to take a shower as soon as you get up. It’s horrid.” At least he was honest, he thought to himself.

“Can do, now get back to sleep sweetheart.” Cole continued to run his fingers through the other male’s hair, slowly drifting off himself, “Goodnight, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed I’ve got a master list as my pinned if you’re up for it. 💜

[rontra]

how do u feel about the episode???? Does it change ur summer rose lore???

my only regret in life is that i didn't bring up "raven might be actively involved with her last mission/'death' " in my big rosebird post earlier. it's a HC (now just a C) that ive loved for years but i could never articulate an actual defendable argument about, so i didn't want to bring it up overtly bc trying to back it up with anything has always made me feel like the dumbest motherfucker on the planet. i just left a vague suggestion of it in my post. if i had been slightly more willing to simply say shit i absolutely could not back up, you would be here today giving me full marks instead of just half marks. and saying it now just makes me look like i'm trying to claim retroactive rosebird clout (which is a real thing and very serious). and i'm going to have to live with that for the rest of my life.

anyway i'm no longer out of town so i can rewatch the ep and look at my exploded inbox(<3). rosebird nation is so unaccustomed to winning that we don't even know what to do right now. women will be in cahoots. bisexually. literally unprecedented W. unimaginable W. a W we dared not even dream of obtaining

I DID MY TIME FIVE YEARS OF IT

no to answer your Q i very much enjoyed it! i'm very satisfied and still on top of my game. savoring victory. (stage bow) summer lore remains unchanged i actually only believe even more firmly in everything ive ever said. thank you & goodnight everybody 👏 once more for old times sake: THIS SEASON WAS SOOO FUCKING GOOD CAN YOU FEEL IT BREAKING!!!!!! CAN YOU FEEL IT!!! LETS FUCKING GOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

[embyrinitalics]

Forever stanning The Wolf King 👀

Guuuurl me too ✊😔

So. The Wolf King. I just checked the version history of the file and I started it back in April 2020. That's like right as pandemic started. SOME OF YOU HAVE KIDS YOUNGER THAN THIS DOC. 😂

I really want to finish An Inconvenience and To Whom it May Concern before I dive into this again (it'll be time consuming; there's lots wrong with it, and given how much of it I wrote 2+ years ago, I'll almost certainly be rewriting it anyway), but I still plan for it to be the next longfic I tackle (before the Last Airbender AU, Defiance, and whatever fics get spawned out of TotK in May 🥴).

Here's how it starts:

It was raining. That was the trouble with April weddings. It was all radiance and spring blossoms one day, and a sky glutted with dreary clouds the next, and there was no telling which one might get. Not that there had been much consideration for the weather when the offer came. It had been a Tuesday. And wasn't that a strange detail to latch onto? The proposal had been by letter, and quite terse. A whirlwind of papers and signatures were exchanged, and by the end of the week she was no longer the daughter Bosphoramus, and there was a band on her left hand. The ring was too big. It twirled on her finger with the slightest encouragement from either neighbor, or her thumb. She had taken to rolling it around whenever she was thinking. She was rolling it now, curse it all. Zelda was sitting at a bay window overlooking the front gardens. An onlooker might have assumed she was an eager bride, watching the hillside for signs of the carriage bearing her new husband to her. The truth was the front gardens were her favorite, and she didn't know when she might see them again. Knuckles rapped on the door. She didn't wonder who it was. She knew the sound like she knew her own heartbeat. It had served as a replacement for a lot of other things—bedtime stories, and goodnight kisses, and warm embraces when nightmares had stolen precious sleep. Her father just wasn't the sort of man to step easily into a role that was so obviously affectionate. She understood. After so many years, that gentle sound was comforting in its own way. “Come in.” The door unlatched, and then quietly clicked shut. She turned when he only crossed half the room, meeting raven eyes that were half draped in shadow. He was staring. Her lips twitched towards a curious smirk. “What is it?” “You look lovely.” There was too much makeup on her eyes and her mouth, and she was absolutely forbidden by her ladies, under pain of death, to touch her face for any reason until after it had served its purpose. She swallowed a few uncharitable remarks, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle in her skirt. “Let's hope he thinks so.” He moved finally, sitting across from her at the window. The gardens down below and the path beyond were quiet, bending and warping as raindrops snaked down the glass. “The day I married your mother, she pulled half the pins from her hair before I got to see her and weaved flowers into her braids,” he murmured, a rueful smile tugging at his mouth. “Most of the paint had probably come off. Her family was horrified. But I thought it suited her. It was wild, like she was.” She allowed herself a small smile, too, remembering. It was strange how much joy the memory of her could stir up in them both, even though her death had been unspeakably painful. Even though she was haunting them now in ways neither of them could have foreseen. “She hardly knew me. But she wasn't afraid to be herself, to make the most of it. She was selfless like that. She wanted very much for both of us to be happy. And we were. I credit her with that entirely.” “I wish I was more like Mother,” she admitted, quietly, like the walls might hear and throw it to the ravenous gossip mongers below. But his smile stayed in place. It's just another political maneuver, he’d told her once, frowning, as they stared out of that same window. It can never change who she was. I only wish it would not mean such hardship for you. “You have her spark,” he mused, taking her hands gently, finding her eyes. It made a breath lodge in her throat. “Give him a chance. He asked for you, in spite of everything. You may yet do for him what your mother did for me.”

And in that, at least, she was indebted to him—the so-called Wolf King of Akkala. When the world had cast her off as damaged and undesirable, his proposal had come like a beacon of hope. It was an opportunity, and in principle she was grateful. But once the initial rush of relief had passed, she felt riddled with holes. What could possibly have motivated him? She imagined a foreign house harboring her with thinly veiled disdain, or a brutish husband who dangled her disgrace over her head to ensure her subservience. The truth was she didn't know what to expect, and that was most frightening of all. “I'll try,” she promised. He nodded, as though that were enough. Maybe it was. They waited at the window, seconds draining into minutes, and then half an hour. Finally a carriage crested the ridge, rising up out of the horizon with the rainclouds: dark, sodden, driven, and her heart pounded in time with the horse’s hooves. Her father stood, breaking her out of something both painfully alive and catatonic at once, and offered her his arm and a grim smile. “My stomach’s in knots,” she whispered, rising to take both, latching onto them like boulders amidst rapids. “What if he’s awful? What if he has no sense of humor?” “Come home,” he suggested easily. “You can have your old room.” She smiled at him so hard her eyes crinkled, and then watered. He found a safe place to lay a kiss on her hair, and there was tenderness enough in it that it transmuted to courage in her breast.

[l-e-morgan-author]

the year of the comfort re-read

This year I largely failed at one of my goals, which was to read 52 books in the year. I barely read, probably the least time spent reading in the entirety of my life since I've learned to read. I also forgot to update on Goodreads; I suspect I'm more likely to update here even if I then update on Goodreads later.

Anyway, next year my list is largely comprised of books I know and love and authors I know and love. I can add to this, but hopefully I won't read fewer than these.

Goodnight Mister Tom (Michelle Magorian; new read; paperback; ???; ???)

A Time To Hear (S. J. Knight; reread; paperback; Christian; set in Gospel time)

A Time To See (S. J. Knight; reread; paperback; Christian; set in Gospel time)

A Time To Speak (S. J. Knight; reread; paperback; Christian; set in Gospel time)

A Time To Act (S. J. Knight; reread; paperback; Christian; set in Gospel time)

A Time To Strive (S. J. Knight; reread; paperback; Christian; set in Gospel time)

A Time To Serve (S. J. Knight; new read; paperback; Christian; set in Gospel time)

The Kingdom Of Heaven (Evelyn M. Lewis; reread; Kindle; Christian; dystopian)

A Little Bush Maid (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Mates At Billabong (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Norah Of Billabong (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

From Billabong To London (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Jim And Wally (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Captain Jim (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Back To Billabong (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Billabong’s Daughter (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Billabong Adventurers (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Bill Of Billabong (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Billabong’s Luck (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Wings Above Billabong (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Billabong Gold (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Son Of Billabong (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Billabong Riders (Mary Grant Bruce; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; adventure)

Girls Of The Hamlet Club (Elsie J. Oxenham; new read; Kindle; ???; girls’ story)

Maid Of The Abbey (Elsie J. Oxenham; reread; Kindle or paperback; ???; girls’ story)

Elsie Dinsmore (Martha Finley; reread; Kindle; Christian; melodramatic and preachy)

Elsie’s Kith And Kin (Martha Finley; reread; Kindle; Christian; melodramatic and preachy)

Mark Of The Raven (Morgan L. Busse; reread; paperback; Christian; fantasy)

Flight Of The Raven (Morgan L. Busse; new read; paperback; Christian; fantasy)

Cry Of The Raven (Morgan L. Busse; new read; paperback; Christian; fantasy)

Wishtress (Nadine Brandes; reread; hardback; Christian; fantasy)

The Nightmare Virus (Nadine Brandes; new read; ???; Christian; ???) <- releasing July

Calligraphy Guild (R. M. Archer; reread; paperback or Kindle; Christian; fantasy)

Summer’s Dream (Cathy Cassidy; reread; Kindle; ???; children) <- trigger warning: anorexia

My Friend Flicka (Mary O’Hara; reread; paperback; ???; horse book)

Thunderhead (Mary O’Hara; reread; paperback; ???; horse book)

Green Grass of Wyoming (Mary O’Hara; reread; paperback; ???; horse book)

Silver Brumby’s Daughter (Elyne Mitchell; reread; paperback; ???; horse book)

Silver Brumbies Of The South (Elyne Mitchell; reread; paperback; ???; horse book)

The Magician’s Nephew (C. S. Lewis; reread; paperback or Kindle; Christian; fantasy)

The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis; reread; paperback or Kindle; Christian; fantasy)

The Horse And His Boy (C. S. Lewis; reread; paperback or Kindle; Christian; fantasy)

Prince Caspian (C. S. Lewis; reread; paperback or Kindle; Christian; fantasy)

The Voyage Of The Dawn Treader (C. S. Lewis; reread; paperback or Kindle; Christian; fantasy)

The Silver Chair (C. S. Lewis; reread; paperback or Kindle; Christian; fantasy)

The Last Battle (C. S. Lewis; reread; paperback or Kindle; Christian; fantasy)

Perelandra (C. S. Lewis; reread; paperback or Kindle; Christian; fantasy)

The Screaming Staircase (Jonathan Stroud; reread; Kindle; ???; adventure)

The Whispering Skull (Jonathan Stroud; reread; Kindle; ???; adventure)

The Hollow Boy (Jonathan Stroud; reread; Kindle; ???; adventure)

The Creeping Shadow (Jonathan Stroud; reread; Kindle; ???; adventure)

The Empty Grave (Jonathan Stroud; reread; Kindle; ???; adventure)

Short Stories Vol. 1 (R. M. Archer; new read; Kindle; Christian; ???)

Anne Of Green Gables (L. M. Montgomery; reread; Kindle or paperback; Christian; coming of age)

Anne Of Avonlea (L. M. Montgomery; reread; Kindle or paperback; Christian; coming of age)

Anne Of The Island (L. M. Montgomery; reread; Kindle or paperback; Christian; coming of age)

Anne Of Windy Willows (L. M. Montgomery; reread; Kindle or paperback; Christian; coming of age)

Anne’s House Of Dreams (L. M. Montgomery; reread; Kindle or paperback; Christian; coming of age)

Anne Of Ingleside (L. M. Montgomery; reread; Kindle or paperback; Christian; coming of age)

Rainbow Valley (L. M. Montgomery; reread; Kindle or paperback; Christian; coming of age)

Rilla Of Ingleside (L. M. Montgomery; reread; Kindle or paperback; Christian; coming of age)

(insert Christian indie author book here)

As you can see, most of these are rereads, often books I've wanted to reread for ages. If you're wondering why #62 is there, it's a placeholder for some book, possibly a new release or debut, but I don't know what yet. Suggestions are welcomed (including self promotion)!

This will also be posted on my blog, and go live on January the First.