#if you can someone manage to resist. it’ll be hard

[karalovesallthegirls]

Also have another “first words spoken to you are on your skin” soulmate AU idea where Kara is a journalist assigned to shadow the controversial CEO of L-Corp for the day. It’s a big deal for her to get this assignment, so of course she trips the second she’s near the other woman and tries awkwardly to redeem herself.

The CEO stares at her almost in shock, and then says nothing. At all. Ever, for the entire day.

Kara spends hours following Lena Luthor around trying to fill the silence, but no amount of questions get her to talk. Lena almost seems to be running away at some points - like she’s trying to lose her? - and the few times she’s managed to catch her actually talking to someone she goes silent the second she sees Kara.

She asks around if Miss Luthor is usually like this and everyone looks at her like she’s crazy. Apparently she’s the only one who gets the silent treatment. By the end of her first day shadowing she’s walking away with half a page of observations and not a single quote. Miss Grant is going to kill her.

But that’s okay. It’s fine, this isn’t over. She has four days of shadowing ahead of her and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t finish this with a quote from the woman herself. It’s only a matter of time.

[coco-loco-nut]

Sparks Fly

pairing: lando x ex!reader, oscar x reader

summary: doesn’t she know that there is nothing you do better than revenge?

a/n: thank you sm for the request, i’m so sorry it took longer than normal

masterlist part one requests open

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Lando’s eyes stayed trained on yours throughout the whole performance. Your knowing smirk makes his stomach sink. Somewhere deep inside you are satisfied watching Lando squirm in his seat, words cutting through him like a hot knife.

“I didn’t know she wrote that! I love that song,” his girlfriend gushes. Lando nods wordlessly, unsure of what to say. “You should introduce me to her,” she stands up, ready to drag Lando backstage as the house lights brighten.

“I’m not sure about that,” Lando protests but gets dragged anyway to where you are talking with the venue manager. He’s a little confused at why his girlfriend seems to suddenly love you.

“Hi, I’m Camillia, Lando’s girlfriend,” she introduces herself before Lando can speak, interrupting your conversation.

“One moment,” your saccharine voice and sarcastic smile greets them as you turn back to finish your conversation, leaving both of them standing awkwardly. You are unsure where this new confidence is coming from.

“Great, thanks for your patience,” you turn to them. Lando can’t believe his eyes, you aren’t the same girl he remembers but you always were able to put up a strong front.

“Y/n,” his voice comes out begging but your sharp eyes stop him.

“Lando,” you reply.

“Anyway,” his girlfriend claps her hands happily, grabbing your attention. “My birthday is coming up soon, I want you to perform at the party,” she says making you scoff.

“I’m a songwriter, I don’t perform like that,” you reject the offer before you can consider it further.

“I’m an actress, there are some producers who will be there and they are looking for music in upcoming productions. It could be a good opportunity, not to mention a very very nice payment,” you hate that the words make you stop, your narrowed eyes widening for a second.

“Are you trying to bribe me?” you ask, slightly taken aback.

“Is it working?” she asks, meeting the challenge your eyes.

“This is my agents details. If I think it’s doable, maybe we will have a deal,” you hand a business card to her. As you turn away, a familiar hand catches your arm.

“Can we talk?” Lando asks, voice pleading for you to hear him out.

“Actually, why don’t you let me talk this time. I didn’t get to do that much last time,” you step towards your gear, starting to pack as Lando steps closer.

“I’m really sorry,” Lando apologizes but you choose to ignore it, lowering your voice so only he can hear.

“Sorry for cheating on me? I find that hard to believe. Congrats on moving on with her, I heard she’s great in bed,” you roll your eyes and scoff. Resisting the urge to slam your guitar case closed, you spin around to face him. “You know what, Lando? I am going to do this, and I hope you hate every minute of it,” you end the conversation, taking one last glance at his girlfriend who sports a frown of some sort.

“Y/n,” Lando says as you walk towards the exit, you give him the finger behind you and leave the building.

The birthday party also happens to double as a black-tie end-of-summer party on some super yacht in Monaco. You spend the summer writing new songs and furiously planning your revenge, professionally of course.

When the day arrives you look drop dead beautiful in your sleek black evening dress, not unprofessional but certainly making you stand out. It is one that begs to be taken off by someone at the end of the night, and you aren’t sure who that will be, but it’ll be a nice way to end the night. The birthday girl is wearing some vintage couture dress that screams for attention. A party planner directs you to the small stage you are performing at. You catch her roll her eyes at you while talking to friends, but you ignore it. Instead you focus on setting up and making sure your set list is perfect.

Oscar really didn’t want to attend Lando’s girlfriend’s party, but he couldn’t think of a good excuse in time. Tugging uncomfortably at his collar he boards the boat just before it leaves the dock.

“You made it!” Lando greets Oscar, clearly already a little drunk.

“Yeah,” Oscar tightly smiles, looking around the boat.

“Bar is open, I’ll see you around,” Lando says before being dragged off by his girlfriend who doesn’t care to say anything to Oscar. Oscar follows the noise of a guitar tuning and finds you preparing to start.

“I’m Y/n L/n, songwriter of many hits, and I’ll be playing some of my hits and unreleased songs tonight,” you smile into the mic, warm summer breeze gently blowing your hair. Oscar steps closer to the stage as you start to sing, being pushed by groups of people talking loudly. He’s close enough to touch and you hope he can’t read your mind. All you can think about is how you want to get to know this mystery man.

You meet his eyes and he smiles shyly at you, a light blush on his cheeks. Teasingly, you send him a wink before refocusing on the music. Oscar is enchanted by you, the way you can elicit emotions from the audience using your words and a guitar, so he stays near the stage to listen to you.

Oscar is the only driver here anyway, most of the paddock doesn’t seem to care for Lando’s current girlfriend. He heard the stories about what happened, but he never met you. You didn’t attend races anymore by the time Oscar joined F1, instead being the girl at home waiting for Lando to return. By the end you didn’t pay any attention to F1 either, you still assume Daniel is his teammate. Oscar never even saw a photo of Lando with the girl he cheated on, you.

“This will be the brief intermission,” you say after performing your most recent hit, carefully placing your guitar on its stand and turning off the mic.

“You must be thirsty,” Oscar hands you a water bottle.

“Thanks. Have you been enjoying the music?” you ask, gratefully sipping the water.

“You are incredible, I don’t know how you haven’t blown up,” Oscar compliments you, making you blush.

“No, no, I prefer being behind the pen. Thank you though,” you chuckle. “I should get back to the stage. Talk to you after?” you ask, trying to figure out how you know him.

A crowd a little larger than when you left the stage has gathered this time, including Lando who happens to be nearby.

“I’d like to start this with something new, a little Punk. I’ve titled it Better Than Revenge,” you flip your hair over your shoulder and out of your face. The aggressive start to your song capturing the attention of the crowd. You detail the start of your summer, the way Lando was stolen from you, and your feelings about it all. You see Lando talk to your mystery water-giver, trying to act unfazed by the song.

“She’s great, where did you find her?” Oscar asks, watching you jam.

“She’s um, an old friend,” Lando answers awkwardly.

“Is that so, how did you meet?” Oscar breaks his gaze, turning it suspiciously on Lando, not quite believing him. Oscar observes Lando fidget and avoidance of watching you.

“Fine, she was my ex,” Lando admits, looking at you as you slow it down with a new song. He finds you eyes looking at him as well, but not with the fury he expected. There is a sadness, disappointment even about how things happened.

“The one you,” Oscar trails off, listening to your words, silence falling between him and Lando as they listen.

“I fucked up,” Lando sighs, admitting it aloud. “She deserves to let her feelings out,” Lando watches you perform.

“You didn’t fight for her?” Oscar asks, not really knowing the full story.

“I hurt her in a cruel way that no amount of apologies can fix. Not to mention I broke up with her. Some cruel twist of fate isn’t letting us move on,” Lando explains, looking away. Oscar nods, not revealing what’s going on in his head. Lando walks away and Oscar stays, watching the final half of your performance.

Before Oscar can steal you again, someone who looks much more important pulls you into a conversation after your final song. Oscar doesn’t mean to listen in, but he is a curious person.

“I’ve been looking for someone to write songs for a soundtrack and I think you are my person. It’s a teen film -think Mean Girls- that has heartbreak and your songs, Better Than Revenge and that song right after it, um,” the producer struggles to thing of the song name.

“Last Kiss,” you offer the name, masking your emotions. It’s a raw song, one of the first ones you wrote after the breakup. You bared your soul. Those two songs represent your two immediate feelings post-Lando, the heartbreak and the anger.

“That’s it. Who is your agent? I want to send a contract and script as soon as possible,” Oscar distracts himself, not wanting you to notice him listening. He does such a good job that he doesn’t notice you slide up next to him, arm lightly brushing his.

“Hello again,” your soft smile makes him startle, but also blush. “I don’t think I ever got your name,” you gently nudge him with your elbow.

“Oscar,” his voice cracks slightly with nerves.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/n,” you know he knows your name from when your introduced yourself on stage, but this feels more intimate, more personal. “How do you know Lando,” you ask, genuinely curious why they were talking.

“I’m his teammate,” Oscar answers, a little shocked that you didn’t know, especially since you broke up at the start of the season and they have been teammates for two.

“Oh no, Daniel,” you frown, maybe you should reach out. Then again, who knows how long Oscar has been Lando’s teammate. Unsure of what to say next, you simply say “Thanks again for the water.”

“Maybe I could buy you a different drink sometime?” Oscar asks in a moment of boldness.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to be seen as the paddock whore,” you shift your weight.

“One drink and if it is too much then you can forget we’ve ever met,” Oscar replies making you reconsider him.

“You believe that much in yourself? Consider it a thank you for the drink then. A boat is coming to bring me back to shore in five minutes,” you wink, leaving him standing, watching you.

With your gear loaded onto the boat, Oscar races down the stairs to meet you on the boat, making it just in time.

“I didn’t think you’d make it,” your smirk makes him want to wipe it off your face with a kiss.

“I hate stuffy parties,” Oscar shrugs, his shy smile matching his awkward position. He doesn’t move closer, unsure of how to approach the situation. You are sitting on a bench with your leather notebook on your lap, open to a page at the back, and a pen in your head.

“I don’t bite, you know. Unless asked,” you add on. Your eyes sparkle in the moonlight as Oscar steps closer, a wave making him stumble onto the seat beside you. “Smooth,” you laugh, closing the journal and tucking it away into a bag.

“I meant to do that,” you don’t see his flushed cheeks, but the awkwardness seems to be slightly alleviated.

Oscar calls a car as you make sure your gear gets picked up by someone and taken to your hotel. At the bar you don’t miss how your bodies touch and you laugh like you are drunk.

“So, after one drink are you ready to get rid of me?” Oscar asks, his smile making your heart beat slightly faster. You both look a little out of place in the bar meant for someone in jeans and a t-shirt, but you both haven’t paid much attention to anything besides each other.

“I might need another to make that decision,” you smile, Oscar’s heartbeat meeting your own as he orders another round, then another, and another before he finds himself tangled in your hotel sheets.

As you stare at him in the darkness, trying to memorize everything about him. Moles, the way he smiles, his soft hair that feels wonderful tangled in your fingers, the way he leans down to kiss you with those soft lips for no real reason other than he’s wanted to since he first saw you, his calculating eyes that also hold a softness when he looks at you.

It seems to strike both of you in the moment that you don’t want this to be a one time thing or a casual thing. There’s something in the way that your hand fits perfectly in his, or the way Oscar never wanted to please a woman more than he wants to meet your every need and more, and the natural feeling of you underneath him.

Oscar doesn’t mean to fall asleep beside you, but he can’t fight it with your bodies pressed together and his exhaustion from the day. You slip out of bed when he’s in deep sleep, searching your bag for the worn leather journal and red glitter gel pen.

The top of the page where you write the song title is empty, your lyric lines that you wrote while waiting for Oscar just below them. The cap of your pen comes off with a satisfying pop as you write for an hour, not keeping track of time before the title comes to you. Dress. You bring in moments and feelings of the day but also creating a story between two fictional characters. Yawning, you slip back in bed before Oscar notices you gone. He pulls you close to him, his subconscious needing you.

You stir to soft kisses being placed on your shoulder and an arm tightening around you. You enjoy it for a moment before turning around to join your lips, Oscar’s touch setting you alight as the morning takes a passionate turn.

“Good morning to you too,” Oscar says breathlessly as he collapses at your side.

“Mm, good morning indeed,” you smile at the ceiling.

“When do you leave?” Oscar turns to his side, reaching out to brush a hair that has fallen over your face.

“This afternoon. I wasn’t expecting to stay here any longer,” you admit. “I have work in London tomorrow, can’t stay any later,” you fight a yawn and the urge to stay tangled in the sheets with Oscar.

“I understand. I’ll be passing through on my way to Woking, maybe I could take you to dinner sometime?” Oscar asks, wanting to make sure you know he isn’t only interested in having you in bed with him.

“That sounds nice,” you agree, stretching slightly. “In the meantime, I should shower, mind helping me get some hard to reach places?” Oscar practically chases you into the hotel bathroom. He offers to take you to the airport as well, but you turn it down, promising to let him know when you return to London.

As you wait for your flight, you send a text to Daniel, who teases you about your heavily belated message, but thanks you anyway and expresses sympathies for your break up. You also send a text to Oscar so he has your number.

It only takes a week for you and Oscar to make plans and meet up again, this time at a tucked away restaurant you love. Everything is going well so far, almost too good and by the time you get to the middle of your meal, you need to say what’s on your mind.

“I need to say this,” you pause your normal conversation and set your utensils down. “I need to be in either one hundred percent or not at all. I don’t want to risk the fallout unless I know both sides are committed,” you tell Oscar, searching his eyes for an answer.

“I agree, and I wouldn’t want to bring you into the paddock unless I was sure you are who I want to commit to. I would really like it if you were to be my girlfriend,” Oscar replies, voice even. Your eyes widen slightly and your brain short circuits slightly. “You don’t have to answer that now, we have the rest of the night,” his hand stretches across the table, gently grabbing yours and squeezing it. His smile tells you that he will wait for your answer and you can feel your heart flutter.

“Thank you, but I know my answer,” you don’t even need to say yes, Oscar knows. It feels so wrong that it feels right, dating your ex’s teammate, but you just know Oscar is different.

After dinner you decide to walk around the city, talking about whatever crosses your mind. Every time you remember that it isn’t a great idea to date your ex’s teammate, Oscar brushes your hands with his and you forget. Rain slowly begins to fall from the sky without warning so Oscar wraps is arm around you, pulling you close in an attempt to shield you.

“My apartment is a few blocks from here,” you notice the street signs and try not to sink into Oscar’s warmth more.

“Lead the way,” Oscar smiles, tightening his grip slightly around your shoulders as you make a mad dash in the direction of warmth. You pass a pub on your way and stop in your tracks.

“I love this song,” you blurt, the music amplified through the empty street, warm early-fall rain soaking your clothes. The slow song that has the whole bar singing alone brings a smile to your face as Oscar confidently takes your hand.

“Let’s dance then,” he smiles, eyes lighting up in the dim streets.

“Now? In the pouring rain?” you give him a look of both admiration and confusion.

“Why not? We’re already soaked, the rain won’t make a difference anymore,” Oscar pulls you closer, giving you a small twirl. Both of you giggle as you dance outside the pub. You sing along terribly with the song as you slow dance with Oscar on the slick sidewalk pavement. He teases your singing, adding his own off-tune take on the song.

As the song ends you both are slightly breathless, heaving chests pressed together. Oscars hand moves to your temple, pushing back a wet lock of hair and tucking it behind your ear. Your breath hitches as you both inch impossibly closer to eachother, his face leaning into yours. His lips are cold from the rain yet still soft as they connect with yours. The hand that pushed your hair back now cradles your neck, sending sparks through you as his other hand holds firm at the small of your back. Your right hand finds itself in his hair, wet and long. As you pull away from each other, the rain intensifies and the temperature drops slightly, just cold enough to make you want to find somewhere warm and dry quickly.

“This way,” your hand finds his and you tug him to your apartment building in a delirium of lust. As you fiddle with your keys to get in, Oscar sweeps you into another kiss, hearts racing faster in anticipation. He leads you up the staircase towards the top floor, Oscar remembers you telling him about your apartment one night over text. You stop him on the third floor landing, tugging the collar of his shirt and kissing him again, like a drug addict getting their fix.

Oscar speaks, voice low with something almost deeper than lust and admiration. “You’re so addictive, so captivating,” he whispers, making you want him more. Before you can do anything else your body shivers, cold from the rain.

“Then show me, I have a warm shower waiting for us,” you smile suggestively, this time leading him to your apartment. Once you step inside you make your way towards your bedroom without a second thought, but Oscar pauses as the door closes behind him. He looks around, observing the space you live in. It’s slightly messy in one of those ways people say they know where everything is, clearly lived in. In the corner of your living room is your own little studio, a guitar, piano, amp, other recording devices you need. Fuzzy blankets and pillows are thrown on your couch and the coffee table has a mug resting on it and the leather notebook Oscar has seen you with before is laying open beside it.

“Nice place,” Oscar smiles, looking over to see you leaning against the doorframe with the sound of running water coming from behind you.

“Thanks, sorry it’s a little messy,” you return his smile, pushing off the wall when he gets closer to you.

“It’s okay, makes it homey. Now, I believe I was promised a shower,” Oscar’s voice dips low, practically on your heels as you turn around and head to the shower.

“My poor water bill,” you laugh, towel drying your hair while walking into the bedroom where Oscar lounges on your bed.

“I’ll pay the difference,” he winks, opening his arms and inviting you to cuddle. You happily fall into his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Stay the night,” you mutter, exhaustion from the day hitting you and the strange comfort of Oscar in your bed threatens to drag you further into sleep.

“Everything I have is back at my hotel,” Oscar says hesitantly, mind running through what he’d have to do in order to get to work on time.

“I have an extra phone charger, your clothes are in the dryer, and I have some laundry day clothes that probably fit you,” you reason, eyes growing heavy.

“I have to be in Woking tomorrow. Why don’t I stay until you are asleep and my clothes are dry then I will see myself out?” Oscar suggests, running his hand up and down your arm.

“Yeah. That could work,” your yawn slows your words.

“I have another free night tomorrow and the day after it is completely open. We can get a late dinner and I’ll make you breakfast the next morning,” Oscar promises with a kiss. You happily nod, resisting your head on his bare chest as you drift off.

Oscar startled awake as the dryer buzzes, surprised he dozed off. He glances down at your hair slightly damp against his chest, cheek smooshed in a way you would be embarrassed about how you look but he thinks is adorable, and your hand rests on his shoulder. Carefully, he slides out of your bed and pulls your duvet up a little so you stay warm. Oscar feels bad ordering the uber and dressing in the dark, but he does find a stack of sticky notes near the door and he writes a good morning message for you. As he falls asleep in his hotel room, he wishes he never left.

By the end of the week, Oscar has spent more time in your apartment than he has the hotel.

“When can I call you my girlfriend?” Oscar asks one night as you cuddle on the couch watching a movie.

“Let me think about it,” you wait a second, building anticipation and watching Oscar grow nervous. “Now, I suppose,” your grin melts any anxiety Oscar held as he draws you in for a quick kiss.

“Well, I can’t wait to fall asleep with my girlfriend in my arms tonight,” he says, giving you a rare, genuine smile, the one he reserves for moments that truly deserve it. It makes you fall even more as your heart flutters.

You both keep things on the down low for a while. Not just for privacy, but to avoid the inevitable awkward moment when you return to the paddock on Oscar’s arm. Oscar has said many times that he doesn’t care how fans react, but you just aren’t ready. You are happy to watch from home and send texts to his phone during the race. Oscar enjoys reading them after, especially when he’s made a move you deem to be too dangerous. Once you’ve hit the one year mark though, Oscar knows you aren’t going anywhere and you are finally ready to step into the Paddock again.

The natural choice is Melbourne. Oscar did give Lando a heads up, the latter found out about the relationship when he caught a glimpse of Oscar’s phone background. It was a photo he took during a trip to celebrate six months together. Lando freaked out, but soon learned to live with it, especially since Oscar doesn’t speak much on his relationships.

“I’m excited,” you smile in the mirror, clipping on your earring. Oscar’s bedroom is slightly messy from the contents of both of your luggage, but it feels so homey.

“You look incredible,” Oscar tells you as he enters from the attached bathroom. You both match unintentionally. His navy blue linen button down and white shorts perfectly complement your white sundress. You look like you both are about to spend a day on the beach, not go to the paddock for the first session day.

“So do you. You always do,” you gently fix his collar.

“Oscar, you are going to be late,” Nicole calls from the kitchen.

“After you,” Oscar opens his bedroom door, letting you exit first. He gives a quick visual check to make sure you both have everything and checks his bag to make sure all paddock passes are accounted for.

“Are you sure you don’t want to attend today?” Oscar hears you ask Nicole, munching on a pastry.

“No, I’ll be there Saturday and Sunday. Hattie is going with you both though,” Nicole refers to the girl entering the room.

“Someone has to protect Y/n from the crazy fans,” Hattie shrugs, ignoring Oscar’s offended look. “Most girls still think he’s single when in reality he’d be married right now if given the choice,” you stifle a laugh as Oscar’s mouth hangs open, not able to find a response. Nicole doesn’t have the same restraint and does chuckle at her son’s reaction.

“Thank you for braving all of the Oscar stuff for me,” you wrap an arm around Hattie, giving her a quick side hug.

“Is it hate on Oscar day? Was I unaware?” Oscar finally replies.

“Yeah, Osc. Sorry to break it to you,” you giggle. If Oscar weren’t deeply in love with you and didn’t know of Hattie’s affectionate bullying, he may have had a different reaction. Instead he just shakes his head and grabs his car keys, giving his mom a quick goodbye and heading to his car. You and Hattie follow behind, chatting enthusiastically about something Oscar isn’t sure that he wants to know. Oscar watches as you slide into the back seat with Hattie, not choosing the front seat to be near him. You’re supposed to hold his hand while driving. You notice his slightly confused expression.

“Sorry, Osc,” you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek before sitting back. Oscar watches you both start to record yourselves in his backseat. Hattie likely convinced you to do a tiktok with her.

Once you get to the Paddock, Oscar loses you and Hattie as soon as you enter, Hattie having dragged you off to film a tiktok.

“Lost your girlfriend?” Charles asks in amusement, Alexandra in tow.

“I think she loves my sister more than me,” Oscar shakes his head, walking with the two towards the team motorhomes.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Alexandra says, excited to have a new WAG in the paddock.

“I’ll make sure she finds you,” Oscar nods, adjusting his shirt.

“Us girls are having lunch, Charles will send you the details,” she squeezes Charles’ hand as they part ways from Oscar.

“How did you guys beat me?” Oscar asks when he spots you and Hattie inside waiting for him.

“It’s a secret,” you grin.

“Oh, you guys are matching. How… cute,” Lando says awkwardly in passing, like a part of him wants to die and another part wishes it were him. You and Oscar meet eyes but don’t respond.

“Five bucks and I punch him. Scratch that, I’ll do it for free,” Hattie comments, watching you and Oscar try not to laugh.

“Please don’t, wait until the end of the season at least,” Oscar replies. “Oh, you both have a lunch invite from the WAGs.”

“Oscar, I don’t think I qualify,” Hattie points out, not looking up from her phone.

“Charles said the invite is extended to you. I’m forwarding the texts to you now,” Oscar says before someone pulls him away.

“Hey,” Hattie turns to you, distracting you from people watching. “I finished editing the tik tok, want me to post it?” she turns around the phone to let you watch. You don’t even notice the short clip of you and Oscar walking hand in hand.

“Yes, it’s so funny,” you agree before you both head off for lunch before FP1.

The girls get over the initial shock of your return quickly, most agreeing that Oscar is much better for you than Lando, and when lunch ends Lily offers to walk you and Hattie back to McLaren.

“I’m glad we have you back in the paddock, and I can finally add you back into the group chat after you left,” Lily hugs you outside of the motorhome. Hattie darted inside to get out of the sun.

“I didn’t feel right staying in it,” you shrug, squinting slightly to see in the bright sun.

“You didn’t have to turn down invites either,” she points out.

“It was rough, I didn’t want anything that reminded me of him,” you guiltily defend your actions. “Lando didn’t bring his girlfriend?” you ask, slightly changing the topic.

“She wasn’t invited to this lunch. She will be on race day. But we really missed you,” Lily looks behind you and takes a half step back.

“I missed you guys too,” your smile is a blend of sadness and contentment. You are happy to have the support system back, but there is a part of you that wishes you didn’t work so hard to separate yourself from F1.

“Someone is waiting for you. I’ll see you later,” Lily leaves you to go into the motorhome where Oscar waits with Hattie.

“Hattie,” Oscar starts firmly, his hand instinctively finding yours. “Did you just hard launch my relationship?” Oscar asks, eyes narrowing as his hand slightly tightens its grip.

“Oops.”

[mari-the-bimbo]

Checkmate

A/N: This is part of the ‘think I need someone older’ series because I’m very behind on it whoopsie! Also have I watched Queen Gambit? No. Did I use the show as inspo anyways? Yes! :D

MINORS DNI, 18+, blow job, semi public sex? Dirty talk,

“You again Geto?” you ask with a sigh as you watch the older, handsome man with his jet black hair tied back, patiently wait for you at the table.

“Hey beautiful”

You try your best to hide your smile from the handsome man who always managed to win every other chess game to land at a game with you.

“You sound disappointed to see me y/n, I’m hurt” he says playfully as you sit at the table, scanning the board, preparing for a game of chess with him.

“Yet you find yourself here every time” you retort, he chuckles nonetheless as he begins. “I enjoy it” he says.

“I’ll never understand why you enjoy playing chess in a pub full of old men though” he says. You shrug your shoulders “I’m just better than all of you” you say as you move a pawn.

He laughs amusedly, it echoes across the room littered with a few nearly middle aged men, none of them gorgeous as your favourite opponent.

“so cocky” he swoons. “And what if I won today?”

“You won’t” you say confidently with a smile, he can’t help but mirror your smile. He was so lovesick for you.

“You wanna bet on that?” He says, you give a breathy laugh at his eagerness. “Ok bet”

“And what happens if I win the bet?” He asks, causing you to halt your next move on the bishop.

You raise an eyebrow at the mischievous male, debating whether letting the simp have a favour from you is a wise idea.

“What would you want to do if you won?” You ask. Fuck being wise right?

He smiles knowingly, licking his lips, but it’s too late to take back words.

“You let me have my way with you”

Your breath hitches at his statement. You glare at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means you can help me out with something I really need” he says.

“Oh really?” You say as you move another player, your head goes fuzzy for a second. Wait, was that the right player to move?

“Mhm, just a little something under the table” he says dirtily as he confidently moves another player.

You gulp at his suggestive words, you know what a man obsessed with you would want, but you never expected him to have this effect on you “what?” You say as you move your king.

He smiles before leaning in closer to you. You feel his breath on your neck, “is your mouth as good as your hands?” he rasps and you gasp, pulling away from him, glaring at the man.

However Geto’s dark eyes were no longer on you but rather your king who he just put into check.

“Checkmate”

You stare in disbelief at the board. How did he defeat you? He never wins against you, nor does he ever come close to it.

“You-“

“Aww man all the guys have left. They didn’t get to witness this beautiful victory” he mocks with a smile.

You squeeze your thighs together, hating yourself for choosing your desire for the handsome chess genius over your own ego.

He tilts his head and flashes a pretty smile at you as he unzips his jeans. “Well I guess it’s good they’re not here to witness what’s next huh?”

———————————-

You were, in fact thankful that all the other chess enthusiasts left. The pub staff too busy sitting inside, having a cigarette to know Geto’s dirty antics.

You’re not surprised when upon freeing his cock from his boxers, you found it was already rock hard and decorated with pre cum. He was horny this entire game?

“Dirty pervert” you mutter.

He laughs at you while reaching out a hand to caress your cheek, “you seen the faces you pull when you’re concentrating? How can a man resist?”

“You-“

But your sentence is cut off by Geto’s tip which he now shoved against your lips, pre cum wetting them.

“Nu uh, you can run your mouth when you win a game princess, until then, it’ll be stuffed with my cock” he says, leaving no room for protest.

He pets your hair as the pre cum around his pink thick cock gets licked up by you. He moans deliciously, singing your praises from his mouth.

“Ohhhh pretty girl, your mouth is just as good”

He enthusiastically grabs your head with his thick veiny hand to press his cock deeper into your mouth. You initially struggle to fit the girth of him in, but your choking is only music to his ears.

He laughs blissfully at the sound, “so cuteee” he moans, his hips thrusting harder every time, because the wet gummy feeling of inside your mouth was just too good against his length.

Your whimpers vibrate against his sensitive head, his praises is now mixed with curses as he ruts into your mouth as if you were a sex toy. His thick arm grabbing the wooden table for stability, because, oh god, it was so easy to lose his composure with a pretty thing like you in between his legs.

Heavy balls slap against your chin, and the drool trails down your face but you try to keep up with his eager stamina.

Finally he slows his pace when he makes you aware he’s about to cum, the creamy taste of his cum flows down your throat as well as trickling down your chin mixing with your spit.

You’re both panting as you finally take his length out of your mouth and look up at him from in between his legs.

It takes everything in you not to suck him off again as you watch him slump against the chair, black hair strands frame his face dishevelled, his muscular chest heaving as he lets out a satisfied sigh.

“Hey princess” he coos as he grabs your chin, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, he kisses your wet lips for continuing. “Maybe you should let me win more often yeah? I promise I’ll eat you out next time”

You give him a breathy laugh against his lips, “in your dreams Suguru” you say, even though you know you’ll take him up on the offer.

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

ooh ooh ooh! what video game do you think the boyd boys would each enjoy?

Steve Murphy: Haha, so, here’s the thing. Steve isn’t much of a gamer, but Connie and Javi both persuade him to give Stardew Valley a shot because they think it’ll relax him. Steve is resistant, but once he starts playing he’s SO absorbed, which is… initially positive, but he gets so damn intense about it! He’s managing so many tasks! He’s trying to optimize his farm and his relationships! He’s gonna organize his whole fucking day! He LOVES this game, but it’s less a stress-release mechanism and more another way to channel his neuroticism!

Donald Pierce: Ooh, Pierce gets so into Red Dead Redemption. He loves exploring the open world, he loves the music and graphics, and most of all he loves playing as a take-no-shit, badass cowboy. He’s totally living vicariously through Arthur, and it hits him like a steel pipe when Arthur’s unexpectedly raped in RDR2.

Cap Hatfield: You know, I feel like I can see modern Cap getting into RuneScape, to the point where it’s a little hard for him to unplug! Go to sleep Cap! You have an 8am class tomorrow! But he loves the grind and the sense of slow, measured progression – he can be completely absorbed at a fishing spot for hours.

Clement Mansell: Clement’s a classic Call of Duty player! He loves blowing off steam by way of mowing through enemies and shit-talking 12-year-olds in the chat. He’s like, got his bong between his knees as he plays, taking covert little hits between the breaks in the action.

The Corinthian: Oh man, I feel like it’s Grand Theft Auto?? He loves the open world! He loves all the OPTIONS. There’s been times when he’s spent hours just wandering through the city, not causing even a bit of a stir, and then next time he boots it up he immediately sets off on a car chase that ends with 50 dead prostitutes, 100 dead police officers, and a stolen helicopter being rammed into a bridge. The Corinthian is shocked when he learns there’s an actual story in the game, too.

Eli Klaber: Lol, maybe this one is self-indulgent, but I feel like Klaber would get into SWTOR? The mechanics are easy to learn and the gameplay isn’t particularly challenging at all, but the stories are a blast and the characters are fully customizable, which is a must for Klaber. He wants to make his space Barbie and take her around the galaxy!

Vic Owen: Oh, it’s Beat Saber for sure. The fast lights! The music! The motion! It’s so stimulating and engaging in every way, and it’s so good at reliably burning away his excess energy! He’s so happy and spent by the time he’s done! Also, he just likes hitting things in virtual reality!

Danny Maguire: Surprisingly, Mass Effect. He starts playing on a whim, not expecting to like it very much, but he gets so damn hooked in the world and the storytelling. He totally starts off telling himself he’s gonna be a bad guy too, but that doesn’t last long at all. A few hours in and he’s making the most heroic choices and getting genuinely distressed if he can’t save everyone. He doesn’t get why he cares! It’s stupid! He’s falling in love with all his companions! They feel like family!

Ty Shaw: Ty ADORES Mario Kart! It’s so colorful and accessible and fun for all ages! It’s awesome to play in groups! He loves popping on a few games of Mario Kart as an icebreaker when he’s introducing someone to his family, too! Plus, it’s always good to see how they handle friendly competition!

Quinn McKenna: Quinn’s not big on story-based or roleplaying-heavy games, and although he does like the occasional combat game, the game he gets so damn addicted to is Minecraft. It’s the perfect balance of creativity within a clear and established structure! Quinn’s an adept visual thinker too - he starts off building some more simple structures, but it’s not long before he’s constructing giant fortesses and underwater bunkers.

[silliestf1fan]

erm I wrote a fic? I had this idea in my head and i couldn’t stop thinking abt it so forgive me for the amount of mistakes and definitely bad writing but i just had to get this out of my brain 🙏 uhhh tw! mentions of rape so beware 😣🙏

“There is no way I'm wearing that.” Oscar’s voice was final, amused but final. After seeing what Lando so badly wanted him to wear to ‘prove’ to Otmar that he was no longer under his control, but now under Lando’s rule, he just couldn’t.

Frankly it was embarrassing, the outfit (if you could even call it that) consisted of an piece of starkly orange silk that was held up around his waist by only a thin gold chain, his legs were practically open to the fresh air while the only thing that was covered were his private parts (Lando insists that he must tease Otmar and show him that only Lando can see that part of him). As well as another gold chain that sits nicely around his neck, so that Lando can hold him close.

“Pleaseeeee” Lando begs “It’ll only be for a short while to tear him before I kill him!.. and then maybe i can give you a special treat afterwards?..” Lando hats his eyes lashes at Oscar, knowing that no matter how embarrassed he was, he couldn’t resist Lando’s puppy eyes.

“.. fine” Oscar finally gives in and takes the pieces of fabric and the chain to get changed “This better be good Lando.” He says as he walks away, Lando’s winning smirk obvious on his face.

Lando is waiting in his office of sorts, although his desk has been pushed to the side for convenience sake, to make Oscar’s perfect figure visible to Otmar’s disgusting eyes. And just as he was thinking of how gorgeous Oscar will look by his side, the door to his office pushes open, revealing Oscar. Sweet, Sweet Oscar, blushing intensely while wearing the outfit he picked out.

Lando’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head, the sight is simply too beautiful to look away. Oscar is shying away from his gaze, his face and chest flushed from his ears to his sternum. His moles litter his pale chest and his hands trying to cover up what dignity he has left.

Lando is speechless.

“.. aren’t you going to say something?” Oscar tries to demand, but while his face is flushed so perfectly, it’s quite hard to take his tough time seriously.

“come here baby” Lando says, his voice that of someone who has seen an angel and must look closer, must touch and feel.

Oscar obeys, slowly walking towards him until he is standing right in front of Lando who is seated in his great office chair. Lando goes to reach out but hesitates for a second, his eyes flicking up to Oscar’s for permission to touch. Oscar nods softly, his eyes locked onto Lando’s huge hands so close to his skin.

With Oscar’s permission Lando gently grabs his waist, his hands slowly trailing up to his chest and back down to his thick thighs, still so soft despite all the muscle and strength behind them. Finally Lando goes back to fiddle with the gold chain around his neck, he can’t seem to find the words to describe how intensely he feels about Oscar looking like this, just for him. Slowly he finds one phrase, hoping that it’ll convey how much he likes what he sees.

“I’m going to ruin you tonight.” That simple phrase somehow makes Oscar’s already flushed face turn impossibly more red. After a few long seconds Oscar manages to find some calm words.

“Well you’re going to have to wait until Otmar is dead before you can do that” At being reminded of Otmar’s soon to be presence in front of Oscar’s beauty Lando groans and rests his head against Oscar’s abdomen. Whining like he’s a school boy and not the leader of the strongest empire in the land.

“Come on, get up. Now, where do you want me?” Oscar asks Lando, forcing him to lift his head and stop pouting.

“I was thinking you could sit by my feet? that way he can fully see you, that's why I moved my desk!” Lando says with far too much enthusiasm, much too happy to have Oscar, the most accomplished soldier in all of the land, right at his feet, willingly submitting to him.

Oscar sighs but agrees, moving to find a comfortable spot by his feet, making sure he is as converted as he can be wearing basically one piece of silk. And soon enough a guard knocks on the door of Lando’s office. Lando composes his voice before replying.

“Come in.” The guard opens the door, Otmar in chains and flanked by two more guards who guide him inside before leaving and shutting the door.

Otmar’s face once he realises it’s Oscar by Lando’s feet is priceless. Shock, disgust and anger all in one and Oscar is living for it. But due to the nature of how this is supposed to play out, Oscar schools his expression and looks at Otmar calmly. On the other hand, Lando simply cannot keep his face blank, his grin so wide that it almost looks sinister.

“Hello Otmar.” Lando’s voice is composed with a tinge of amusement, giving away his enjoyment in seeing his greatest enemy in shackles watching on as what used to be his best soldier submissive at his feet.

“What the fuck is this. Lando.. what have you done to my boy?..” Otmar was furious.

“Your boy? oh.. oh no Otmar, I think you’ll see that he’s actually mine. Isn’t that right baby?” He turns to look at Oscar and lightly tugs on the golden chain around his neck. Oscar looks at him with a glint of amusement in his eye but carries on with the act.

“Yes Lando.” His voice is calm and controlled and he decides at that moment to nuzzle his head into his leg, acting almost like a trained dog.

Otmar’s reaction is instant. “What the fuck is this?!? You’ve brainwashed him!”

“I only showed my dear Osc here that you were the one doing the brainwashing, he chose for himself who he thought was better and well.. let’s just say I gave him a few treats to sweeten the deal.” Lando smirks at him while petting Oscar’s fluffy hair.

Otmar’s face turns into that of disgust, recoiling at the suggestiveness in Lando’s voice.

“You’re disgusting… but I guess that’s all Oscar’s good for huh? Just a little slut begging for anyone cock aren’t you?”

Lando’s face turns dark in an instant, hearing the vile creature that is Otmar talking about Oscar like that was almost the last straw. Lando was about to give the signal to the hidden assassin in the shadows to get rid of him until he felt Oscar’s delicate hand squeeze his thigh. He looks down to see Oscar shake his head softly. So Lando calms himself and lets Oscar do what he needs to do.

“Otmar… if i’m just a dirty slut.. then.. what

makes you? A rapist? Because I never wanted your tiny, gross dick anywhere near me, I never got any pleasure from your pig of a body” Oscar slowly stands up, seating himself neatly on Lando’s lap. “But let me tell you, Lando really knows how to use his cock. You never once made me cum but Lando.. oh I’m sure you can see where i’m going with this.”

Oscar’s sly grin is potent, obvious in his body language that he is enjoying every moment of this, being able to say all the things he wished he could’ve before, if only to spite the old man in front of them.

“So for all the times you spilled your disgusting seed inside me, I have a precious gift for you.” Oscar’s face seems almost genuine.

“.. what is it?..” Otmar asks

“This.” Oscar says before giving the signal to the assassin to slit his throat. And slit his throat he does, Otmar’s body crumbles to the ground holding onto his bloody neck.

Oscar then gets up and stands over Otmar’s slowly dying body before taking the assassin's knife and stabbing Otmar’s crotch and simply leaving the knife there.

“Bye, bye Otmar. Burn in hell.” Otmar stops struggling then, finally dying. The assassin then nods to Lando before dragging the body out.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen” Those were the words Lando chose to use, getting Oscar’s attention. And as Oscar turns around he sees something he didn’t expect to see.

Lando was hard. Hard from watching his lover kill the man he hated.

“Seriously Lando? You’re hard now?” Oscar says, his voice deadpan.

“Come on! That was hot! You can’t really blame me for getting hard at that?” Lando says pouting.

Oscar rolls his eyes fondly before walking back over to him and sitting back in his lap, facing him.

“Well I guess I’ll have to take care of that, hm?”

“And I can give you your well earned treat, how does that sound?” Lando grabs Oscar’s bare waist and pulls him closer, fresh blood only a metre or so in front of them but that’s a problem for later.

[luxaofhesperides]

“You know, I’ve spent years looking at the stars and yet, you still manage to outshine them all.” + fluff, established relationship ; requested by @xysidhequeen!

The Signal didn’t often go out at night. He sticks to working during the day as often as he can, a visible figure of safety that the people of Gotham could rely on. He mostly works alone during the day, with only his husband’s voice in his ear (and sometimes flying by his side), and spends the night recovering so he can do it all over again.

But tonight, he’s grappling through the streets, working with Batgirl and Red Hood to bust a trafficking operation. The rest of the Bats are either working cases in other parts of the world, or too injured to go out despite their best efforts to say otherwise. He’s already feeling tired, not as young as he used to be and lacking the energy he had in high school to do so much each day. 

They need the help, which is why he agreed to help out, but Danny had managed to switch him from being one of the heavy hitters to being backup and rescue, so he can whisk away any victims he finds through shadows to deliver them to Gordon, who waits on standby a few streets away with emergency medical services with him. Not a perk he was expecting from marrying someone else in the hero business, but definitely one he appreciates. 

He wishes Danny were still in his ears, humming softly on comms as Duke fits himself into the shadow of the warehouse the traffickers are hiding in. Batgirl and Red Hood take to the roofs as Duke slips inside, stepping out of the shadows onto the catwalk, crouching down so no one spots him. The shadows drape over him, a comforting weight, as he reaches out and rips away the weak lights on in the warehouse.

The added darkness allows Batgirl and Red Hood to slip inside, positioning themselves on the crossbeams, watching the people below them move about. 

They speak in hushed voices, eyes flickering nervously from the windows to the door. Guns are held in white-knuckled grips; they all know they shouldn’t step into Bat territory, but the call of powerful criminal families like the Falcones is too much for them to resist. 

“Victims should be held in freight boxes at the other end of the warehouse,” Red Hood says, voice low as he shifts his weight, ready to drop down and make the traffickers beg for mercy. 

“Try to draw everyone to this end, then, and I’ll get the victims out of here.”

“You got it. Ready, Batgirl?”

Batgirl lifts her cowl to tuck her blond bangs out of her face, then grins. “Ready.”

They drop from the ceiling at the same moment, landing on two traffickers and taking them out instantly. The warehouse is filled with shouts and gunfire as the vigilantes weave their way around the space, hitting hard and kicking away guns as soon as they can.

Duke grabs onto a shadow and follows it along the wall, letting it carry him down to the floor. No one guards the freight boxes, making it all the easier to wrench them open. The movement makes his left shoulder twinge, and Duke winces, knowing it’ll be a pain in the morning. 

The people huddled inside the freight box cry out, alarmed and frightened, when he steps inside. 

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m here to get you guys to safety,” he soothes, hands raised in front of him.

The youngest of them are the first to run to him, whispering fervent thanks as he pulls the shadows over them, hiding them from sight, then taking them to Gordon. He makes the trip multiple times, the other victims eager to be free from the hell they’ve experienced. 

There are tears and panic attacks and people clutching to each other, relieved that their nightmare is over. 

Thankfully, there weren’t that many victims. It’s the smallest silver lining, but after all these years, Duke knows to take what he can get. It’s all to easy to let despair take over. If he wants to save people, he has to keep fighting for the smallest hopes of a better future.

“All victims have been rescued,” he announces, standing outside the warehouse. “Need any help in there?”

“Nah, we’re good,” Batgirl says. Her words are followed by a grunt, a swear, and then her manic laughter. From the sound of it, someone got a lucky shot in and Batgirl repaid it with a particularly nasty nerve strike.

“We got it covered from here. Just need to interrogate a few guys, then we’ll let the pigs clean up this mess,” Red Hood adds. 

“Alright, I’m gonna head in, then.”

Batgirl sends him off with a cheerful “Sleep tight, don’t let the lovebugs bite too much!” It’s been years since he accidentally went on patrol with a fully visible hickey and she still refuses to let it go.

Duke sighs, then turns off his comm. He grapples up to the roof and begins making his way back towards the apartment, far too tired to bother with going to the Hatch. He’s got plenty of hidden storage space to hide away his suit for a day, and the Hatch doesn’t have Danny, so of course he’s not going to go there.

All he wants to do after such a long day is go home, where Danny should be.

Should be, because not even five minutes into crossing the city, Duke catches sight of the white star-glow of Danny up on a rooftop. 

He changes course immediately, turning towards Danny before he fully processes what he’s seeing, as if he’s being pulled into his orbit. 

Danny’s sitting on the edge of a building as Phantom, his gas mask hanging loose around his neck. 

He beams as Duke lands on the building, reaching up for him as Duke takes off his helmet and crouches down to kiss him. 

“You know,” Danny murmurs against his lips, “I’ve spent years looking at the stars, and yet you still manage to outshine them all.”

Six years of marriage and Danny still manages to fluster him. Duke laughs, dropping his head onto Danny’s shoulder. “Well, hello to you too, you flirt. What was that for?”

“I saw you saving those people tonight. They looked at you like you were the sun. I’m glad other people are seeing how wonderful you are.”

“You flatter me too much. What brought you out here so late? I thought you were sleeping.”

Danny shrugs, looking down at the street. “I tried, but a ghost insisted I follow them out here. I didn’t realize how close I was to you until I got here, and then I just couldn’t resist watching you in action.”

“And you wanted to make sure I was fine.”

“That too,” Danny admits. They’ve long since settled any arguments about trust and believing each other to be able to handle the fights they throw themselves into. Danny’s need to protect and self sacrifice because he’s ‘already dead, what’s another thirty bullets going to do?’ and Duke’s determination to do things his way, working off visions of the future he doesn’t have time to communicate meant they fought often and loudly in the early stages of their relationship. Time has tempered those feelings, and now it’s clear to see that Danny simply wants him safe, and Duke doesn’t mind using his status as a hero or his powers to give Danny some special treatment.

Danny checking up on him in fights doesn’t make him think Danny sees him as weak and in need of help. It just makes him feel loved, grateful to know his husband would always be there for him, even if it’s in the sidelines, ready to fly them home.

“What did the ghost need?” he asks, lifting his head from Danny’s shoulder. 

“Well…” Danny trails off. “How do you feel about pets?”

“Sweetheart, did a ghost ask you to adopt their dog?”

Danny’s expression falls, and Duke’s heart twists. He pulls Danny into his arms without second thought, offering him what comfort he could. 

“Not a dog,” he says. “And it wasn’t a human ghost. It was a cat. A cat that had kittens and died because there wasn’t enough food for her on the streets.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Duke says. Animal deaths have always hit Danny hard, and it’s this that made Damian accept Danny as part of the family, insisting on helping ghost animals with him.

“I’ve already texted Dami about the kittens. He’s going to swing by our place tomorrow to pick them up, but there are two that attached themselves to me and I don’t want to let them go.”

“Let’s go get them and take them home. And then we can start thinking of names for them.”

Danny peeks up at him shyly, then breaks out into a relieved smile. “Really? Thank you! I love you so much.” He jumps to his feet and kisses Duke quickly, then is flying down to get the kittens before Duke can do anything.

He flies back up with a cardboard box full of tiny little ‘meows’ that are already melting Duke’s heart from cuteness.

“I buried mama cat already, so I think we’re good to go.”

Duke aims his grapple again, and with Danny by his side, soars above the city. Neither of them are going as fast as they usually do, carefully aware of the kittens in the box. When they get to their apartment, Duke lands on the balcony and opens the door so Danny can fly in without risking intangible kittens escaping. He sets the box down gently on the floor of the living room, then grabs his wallet and flies out again, tossing a quick explanation of buying food for them over his shoulder.

Left alone with the kittens, Duke peeks into the box to coo at them before heading to the bedroom to change into sweatpants. His gear is left tucked into the back of the closet, hidden by some heavy winter coats. 

The kittens are crying when he gets back to the living room. Their little cries are too hard to resist, so Duke uses the shadows to create a small playpen for them, keeping them contained in a small area in front of the couch. He sits on the ground and carefully pulls each kitten out, freeing them from their cardboard confines. 

Within seconds, the kittens are toddling around unsteadily, so small and scraggly, with eyes that have only just opened peering around curiously. Duke pets them with a single finger, terrified of hurting their fragile bodies. 

He’s covered in kittens climbing over his lap when Danny returns.

His husband takes a moment by the door, in human form, to give him a sappy smile, so visibly in love it makes Duke blush. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, breathlessly, and carelessly drops his bag of kitten supplies on the ground to cross the distance between them and kiss Duke sweetly. 

“Such a sweet talker today,” Duke comments as he pulls away.

“Can you really blame me? I have the best husband in the world who saves people and kittens and has the best smile and reminds me how much good is still left in the world.”

Duke’s mind short circuits at Danny’s words. Instead of saying how much he loves Danny, with his need to protect, his big heart, the way he always puts his cold hands on Duke’s temples before Duke himself realizes how bad his migraine is, what he says is, “Can we name one of the kittens Polaris?”

“Best husband in the world,” Danny says again, his voice soft. “I love that name. Yes, let’s name one Polaris.”

Sitting there at almost four in the morning, just coming in from saving victims of human trafficking, should be exhausting and painful and lead to a long night of wondering how long he can keep fighting when there’s no end to human cruelty. But his heart is light, leaning into his husband with kittens crawling over them.

There is good in the world. So much good.

The best is sitting besides him in their dark living room, and Duke knows that as long as Danny is by his side, he’ll keep fighting for all the good still out there. The world could be so much better, and he’s determined to make it better for Danny.

A world where kittens are safe even in the streets. 

That’s the world he’ll make for Danny.

[luckycharms1701]

*comes sliding into your inbox and excitedly crashes you into a tight bear hug*

OMIGOSH CAPTAIN KIRSTEN YOU’RE BACK! How are you sweet thing!? I’m so glad to hear that your request box is open again! I’m so excited to see what wondrous words you’ll dazzle us with next!

I just had the most splendiferous like EVER, and I can’t believe I hadn’t thought about it sooner. But you like Peepaw Leo right? And I like Peepaw Leo.

So I was thinking like you know…maybe if you’re feeling up for it (if and only if of course) you wouldn’t mind sharing your thoughts on how F!Leo would react to someone who’s generally super amiable and confident with all the other and resistance members, suddenly turns almost painfully polite an awkward around him. (This is legit how I act around people who I think are attractive) It happens so much to the point that he thinks they don’t him when in reality, they like him so much it flusters them to the point they don’t know how to act around them.

Basically I just wanna see how a “mature” Leo would act when he realizes someone likes him so much they can’t function 😆

Once again, this is just an idea to get those creative juices flowing, so please do with it as you so wish and remember that you’re a darling treasure! MWUAH 😘🧡✨

anon-chan!!! hello!!! 🫂🫂🫂 i’m so glad to see you in my inbox!!!

congratulations anon-chan! this is officially the most difficult request that has ever been asked of me. i’ve spent weeks trying to figure this out. started writing a little fic, but it didn’t feel right. so i thought maybe i could do some headcanons, but every time i tried to start i didn’t know where to start!

the problem i’m having is variables. there are so many variables for how this could turn out, mostly depending on timing. when exactly during the resistance does this happen? because i feel like that informs leo’s response. so have some of my unfiltered thoughts. a peek into how i “organize” my writing thoughts, if you will. i’m sorry in advance

Early 20s: This Leo is still confident and optimistic, at least outwardly. He and his brothers defeated Shredder twice, how hard can the Kraang be? Sure, they need some help and it’ll take longer, but it’ll definitely work out in the end and life will resume as normal. Right?

So I imagine that Leo at this age would see you suddenly pulling away and acting formal with him and get upset at first. He thought you were friends, why are you doing this? He would likely reciprocate or get snippy, at least until one of his brothers, probably Mikey but possibly Raph, comes to him and is like “Dude. Come on.” Give the guy a break, there’s a lot going on you know??? So at his brother’s suggestion, he sits back and observes.

When he finally confirms for himself that you do, in fact, have feelings for him and that’s why you’re being standoffish with him, watch out! This little shit is going to make you suffer a bit. He’s going to start flirting with you. Lots of compliments, little winks, soft touches… You will be inundated.

Something changes. Perhaps they lose their biggest battle to date. Perhaps someone close to him dies. Perhaps it is Casey Jr’s birth. Any way it plays out, Leo realizes that life is shorter than it seems, that love is precious and fleeting and should be grasped. He realizes that his teasing may be a little more… genuine on his side than he’d realized.

So he comes to you. Perhaps he goes full ham, arranges a romantic meeting somewhere, plans a dinner. Perhaps you end up in danger, and he goes a little crazy about it. Perhaps it is just a quiet moment that the two of you manage to steal. Either way, he tells you how he feels.

Late 20s/Early 30s: Now here is a Leo who is starting to realize that they might be in over their heads. He’s lost at least one member of his family. He’s watched them steadily lose ground to the Kraang, despite everyone giving their best effort. He is starting to understand that they might not win this fight. At this point he’s probably learned how the Kraang came to our world and that he played a part in their arrival.

This Leo is overwhelmed, but still holding strongly to hope. He’s determined to do everything in his power to keep morale up. That’s why he notices immediately when you seem to start pulling away from him. He takes it a little personally at first. Yeah, maybe he’s not as fun as he used to be, but he’s trying to run a resistance here, that’s no reason to give him the cold shoulder. He resolves to approach you about it.

Something changes. Perhaps he notices you give him a sidelong glance. Perhaps someone teases you and he overhears. Perhaps he sits you down for that talk and you confess. He learns why you are so standoffish, and suddenly he has a choice to make.

Leading a resistance is a 24/7 job. He has no time for anything, especially when he has so much to make up for. Does he even deserve the sliver of happiness you’re offering him? And there’s the niggling thought in the back of his head that everything is futile anyway, that they’re going to lose and you’re going to die.

But if there’s one thing he’s learned out of all of this, it’s that life is short. He doesn’t want to die with regrets, and he knows he would regret not taking this chance. And he wants to give you what happiness he can, you deserve that. Wouldn’t it be a little “fuck you” to the Kraang, to find some peace in the midst of the chaos they (he) created?

He goes for it. He takes the risk, jumps in feet first, and tells you how he feels.

Late 30s: Leon. Oh Leon. He holds onto hope fiercely, with both hands, but he can’t, he won’t, keep any of it for himself. He understands implicitly that even if by some miracle they win, he’s not going to survive this fight.

He’s going to notice immediately when your behavior changes, when you get stiff with him. He keeps his finger on the pulse of everyone close to him, pays attention so that he can help them if they start to flag. It won’t take long for him to pull you aside, to ask you if everything is okay, if you need a break.

He’s going to figure it out, whether because you admit it to him or through context clues. He’s had years to hone his considerable talent in understanding people, his preternatural ability to know what they want with a glance.

He’s going to figure it out, and he’s going to do… nothing. As long as there’s the tiniest chance that you could survive this, he refuses to tie you to a corpse. Besides, he has been thinking up a plan, a last ditch effort, and maybe you could be the one to put it into action…

Your death hits him like a freight train. His own is a relief.

~~~

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic @writinandcrying @xnorthstar3x @celticvix @donniesgirlie @gornackeaterofworlds @thelaundrybitch @shakeyourtrees

[spatialflowers]

I’m back after god knows how long after taking a break from tumblr, and I think it’s important to share this sentiment anywhere I can at the moment

Speaking out is defiance.

Communication is a tool.

You have something powerful, a voice. Use it.

I’m talking to anyone who also lives in this country: it will affect you. Even if you don’t think it will, your neighbors will be prosecuted by the masses if what he has planned goes through. Your friends, colleagues, maybe even family. It just starts with a hill and some snow until you get an avalanche.

They may set bounties for immigrants, they may offer immunities for outing any LGBTQ+ people in your life, they may bombard your screens with propaganda, but do NOT fall for it. We’ve spent too long studying history to let it repeat itself.

Don’t comply because it’s hard or “it won’t happen to me! So I’m safe!” Because it just might. Stand up for these people, as they would stand up for you.

Use your voice, sing a song of freedom and liberty. Carry your words and amplify them in anyway you can. Engage.

Protect those who can’t protect themselves, fight oppressors. Take note these upcoming years.

This event will be written in history, if he manages to go through with his threat, don’t let yourself be written on the wrong side of it. Do what you can, especially if you’re someone a lot more privileged than others.

Let’s do our best to nip this in the bud while we still have the chance. And if the weed of hatred continues to grow, let’s do what we can to make sure it doesn’t thrive.

To reference Les Miserables: it’s time to be the people who sing the song of angry men. Be ready to protest loudly.

EDITED TO ADD:

I don’t care how many people will think I’m just being dramatic and stupid. I don’t care how some people will say it’s not worth fighting or resisting, or that it will magically just be ok.

This shit isn’t a game or movie to act like it’ll all turn out just fine, this is real life. These are actual people. If we don’t try, who will?

[writtentodeath]

can you do one where the protagonist gets overstimulated and the villain helps them deal with it? if you're still taking asks that is. I love your work so much and have missed seeing you! thanks!

They took a deep breath. “It’s called overstimulation. Maybe you’ve heard of it.” 

“From the noise?” 

It was mostly the noise. Protagonist gestured around them. “From everything. I feel like that should be obvious.” 

Stupid, stupid. Way to antagonize the guy with the gun, 

Villain paused, considering. “Do you have earplugs?” 

Uh oh. Red alert. Not good. Not good. 

“I forgot them today,” Protagonist said, trying to focus on not snapping or biting or hitting their head on the ground. “Bad luck.” 

“I have extras,” Villain said smoothly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair that looked just like theirs, 

“That’s- that’s-” oh, screw it- “That’s a bad idea, for me,” they said. 

Villain quirked an eyebrow. Shockingly, he looked genuine. “Why?” 

“I won’t be much of a conversationalist if I put those in,” they said, trying very hard for a wry smile. It didn’t feel natural. This keyed up, nothing felt ‘natural’. It was never this bad. 

“You can still hear me.” 

“Yes, but- well-” 

“It’ll be easier to keep up a conversation if you’re not resisting the urge to kill me,” Villain said. “As fun as it is to watch.” 

Protagonist clenched their jaw. Their ears were ringing and their head hurt and there were pebbles on the ground under their hands. “If I,” they started, rubbing their hands against the fabric of their pants, “If I put those in, it’ll stop the noise and I’ll- crash. No more conversing for me.” 

“Crash. Explain.” 

“I’ll. I won’t be here anymore.” 

“You’ll freeze?” 

“No, no, I’ll just be- mindless.” They cringed at the last word. This was a terrible idea and they couldn’t stop themself from spilling everything. “I can’t think, or talk or- or do anything but listen and do, if I can understand what I’m hearing. It’s rote.”

“So you’re saying,” Villain said slowly, “that if you put these on right now, you’ll quit talking back?” 

Protagonist reached up to pull at a strand of their hair. Anything to focus on other than that voice. “Yes,” they managed eventually, not even worrying about the safety of lying. “But-” there was something they needed to say that was important, something to stop Villain, and even though they could see the shape of it in their head and feel the words in their mouth nothing came out. They squeezed their hand into a fist, nails biting crescents into the palm of their hand. “I thought you liked having someone to entertain you.” 

“Don’t worry about me right now,” Villain said. “Put them in.” 

They stared at the ground. 

Villain caught their chin- skin on their skin, hot and they could feel it and it needed to stop- and pulled them into eye contact. “Put them in.” 

They couldn’t think. Why were the lights so loud? And Villain’s eyes… relentless.

I’m gonna crash anyway. May as well control it.

Protagonist took the plugs gingerly, trying not to touch Villain’s hand. Tilting their head from one side to the other, they put one earplug in and then the other, settling them. 

Their tension didn’t fade immediately, but it stopped growing. The noises and the lights and the feelings stalled in their mind, and settled. Everything paused, and went sluggish. 

Villain was still staring at them, but they didn’t feel like parsing out the expression on their face. Or really even looking at them. 

“You can hear me?” Villain said. 

They didn’t say anything. It didn’t really matter. Villain said not to worry… 

“Stand up,” Villain said.

Still staring into space, Protagonist stood up. The movements were slow and jerking, like they were pulling their body upright with marionette strings.

I made a… mistake. Mistake. Shouldn’t have done that. Mistake- they tried to grasp onto the thought, pull it back and figure out a solution, but it slipped away. What? 

I want to sleep. 

Villain was saying something. With some effort, Protagonist dragged their eyes up to Villain’s shoulders. They weren’t doing faces right now. 

“-did warn me- you’re totally out of it, aren’t you? Like a lightbulb.” 

They wanted. They wanted something. They opened their mouth- and didn’t say anything. 

Hands steadied their shoulders, and Protagonist leaned into the warmth. It felt so good. They wanted more. 

Something inside their chest reared up, pressing danger into their nerves. They shivered, and the arms wrapped around them, holding them against something warm and solid. A chest. It rumbled with laughter. 

“...do this more often,” the voice said, muffled and distant. 

They shook their head, squeezing their eyes shut. What were they so worried about before? 

Something lifted up their legs, then they were being cradled against that warmth. What were they afraid of? They could just go to sleep… 

Danger, something whispered. Protagonist didn’t pay it any attention. They were already half asleep, cradled in the Villain’s arms. 

[butchkaramazov]

A Shade Darker Than Red: Chapter 9

Chapter 8.5

Friday, 19:08 p.m.

I glanced at my watch, wading through the crowd as I searched desperately for a certain pair of brown eyes, a glimpse of raven-black hair and lips lined with maroon lipstick. The song Perfect blasted from the speakers and I somehow resisted the urge to start singing along—briefly imagining Sita and Jenny dancing to it instead. That was well and good, but where was my Sita?

It wasn’t long before I saw her. My heart stopped for a moment as my eyes rested on her divine form stepping through the crowd, a maroon dress draped around her body and enclasped around her neck, her dark-skinned shoulders on display. Her head was held high as the crowd of teenagers parted at her presence, staring at her wordlessly. A glass of wine in her hand, she looked beautifully cold and distant—until her searching eyes caught sight of mine.

“Renu!” she cried, forgetting all grace and poise. She somehow managed to run towards me in her ankle-breaking heels, wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug.

“Hi, Paro,” I said lamely. She pulled away and looked at me like I was the stupidest thing she’d ever seen. Oh, God, I was screwed.

“Thank God you’re here!” she said, slipping her arm around mine. “This place was so empty without you.”

“Yeah, I tend to have that effect on people,” I said smugly. Paro rolled her eyes, taking a swig of the wine. “I’m not going home before I’m properly drunk,” she explained as she refilled her glass.

I cringed. “The school is going to regret endorsing wine,” I said. “Especially the tenth graders who wanted to have it in the first place.”

Paro groaned, chugging down the entire glass. “Let them,” she said. “It’ll be like a last ‘fuck you’ to the school before we finally leave.”

I laughed as Paro dragged me towards the game stalls. “Can you please get me a teddy bear?” she asked, her words already turning into a drawl.

I chuckled and shot at the board of balloons. My aim was almost never right—Paro would have to be disappointed this time. Surprisingly, I heard a pop! and the ninth grader hosting the stall handed Paro a pink teddy bear. She clutched it to her chest as she refilled her glass once more. “Thank you,” she said with a beaming smile.

“Well, it seems like you’re my good luck charm,” I joked, leading her away from the stall.

The evening passed by visiting stalls and laughing and spinning each other around until the moonlight illuminated Paro’s tired and barely sober features. I checked my watch. It was 8 p.m, and the stalls would be closing in an hour.

“Paro, I think we should go home now,” I said.

Paro whined. “But why?” she slurred, and I knew she would wake up the next day with a terrible hangover.

“Because,” I began, gesturing towards all the soft toys she had gathered in her arms, “Mr Teddy, Mr Chomp, Miss Owl and Rodrick should probably be asleep by now, it’s past their bedtime.”

Paro seemed to consider it. “So, do we call an Uber?”

I paused. Two drunk teenage girls in lavish gowns wouldn’t be hard to prey on at night, especially when the entire control was in the driver’s hands. “No,” I said. “I think we should call Kiran.” Kiran, being the oldest in our group, always stayed up until 3 a.m and I knew he was binge-watching Netflix at this very moment.

Paro nodded, although I wasn’t sure if she heard anything I said. She gasped, running over to another stall and I followed, albeit reluctantly, with my phone pressed to my ear.

“Hi, Kiran,” I said as Paro tried to refill her glass. “No, we’re not doing that again,” I muttered, snatching the bottle of wine away from her. “Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you,” I resumed the call again. “I’m with Paro—yeah—at the grad party and uh, we kinda need someone to drop us off.”

I heard Kiran grumble and something like a female voice on the other end of the phone. I recognised the unknown voice as Prarthana’s. I cackled inwardly.

“Mhm, sure, I’ll drop you off,” Kiran said, their voice huskier than it usually was. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

I almost dragged a heavily drunk Paro away from the stalls and forced her to say goodbye to the teachers. “But they were complete tyrants,” she whined, struggling to stay steady on my arm. “They won’t take it kindly,” I explained. “Plus, it won’t take long.”

After saying goodbye to the teachers (which did, actually, take a long time), my phone vibrated in my pocket. Kiran.

I waved goodbye once more with a polite smile and gently guided Paro towards the exit—just in time as Kiran’s familiar black car stopped in front of the gate. “Thanks dude,” I said, stepping into the car. Kiran merely sighed.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Paro had lost her earlier vigour and had fallen asleep with her head on my shoulder, a peaceful expression on her face. I tilted her chin towards me and gently wiped away a thin line of drool with my thumb. “Doofus,” I murmured under my breath.

Kiran looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Just tell her you love her,” they said softly. I shook my head, my finger running absent-mindedly through Paro’s hair. “I can’t hurt her,” I muttered. 

Kiran frowned. “Stop talking bull, you won’t hurt her.”

I smiled. “My world is a world of red, Kiran,” I murmured. “She—she deserves better.”

Kiran sighed, running one hand through their hair with the other on the steering wheel. “You’ll kill yourself like this, Renu.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t risk my friendship with Paro—not after everything we’d been through. I couldn’t risk losing the little bit of colour I had left in my life.

@avani-amulya @manujanolavu @nirmohi-premika @lovesickpdf @arachneofthoughts @sonilaalbindi @desi-yearning @alhad-si-simran @thatpagalchokri @trashmeowcan @waitingforthesunrise @vellibandi @thesunandstarss @chanda-chamke-cham-cham @damnn-dorothea @the-unhinged-fanwinggg @watchingblsnowandforever @disproportionatelysculpting @bundle-of-glitter @bibliophile-dendrophile please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist <3

we're getting closer to the first kiss >:D

[aeoki]

White Brim - Battle Royal: Chapter 11

Location: Forest (night) Characters: Touri, Tsukasa, Eichi & Hiyori

Hiyori: Tsukasa-kun!

Tsukasa: ………!?

Hiyori: This is a warning from someone speaking from experience, but you’ll only be wasting your time if you listen to the things Eichi-kun says!

Tsukasa: …I thank you for the warning.

But I don’t think an opinion from a fool who jumps into the enemy's nest by themselves is–

(No! Tomoe Onii-sama tends to act like a fool and is generally looked down on by the public as a prodigal son! But he shouldn’t be an idiot who doesn’t use his head at all!)

(It would be impossible for such a fool to push the powerhouse units aside and shine at the top of ES!)

(He was also selected to be the “general leader” at “SS” – He’s Hiyori Tomoe of “Eden”!)

(Meaning! Tomoe Onii-sama is actually after…!?)

It’s a diversion! Be careful, “hunters (fishermen)”!

Hiyori: Aha! That was quick judgement! As expected of a son from a military family!

Tsukasa: I’m honoured by your words! But I still won’t go easy on you!

(Tomoe Onii-sama shouldn’t be armed despite being a “prey (fish)”! I’d love to imagine that he must be out of bullets after our skirmish from earlier! But!)

(I cannot let my guard down! I learnt my lesson from “SS”! Whatever I do, I shall do with all my might!)

(I’ll use the trees as cover, close in onto Onii-sama and hunt him down!)

Hiyori: Aha! That’s not a wise decision! It’ll take a long time if you’re planning on taking me down while protecting yourself!

You’re still too young! That’s precisely why you insist on demonstrating your valour on the front lines!

Tsukasa: How can you be so talkative on the battlefield…!?

Hiyori: You’re hopeless now that you’ve been caught by the fish! Now that you’ve seen through our diversion, you should have focused all your efforts on not letting us achieve our goal!

Tsukasa: Your goal…!?

……! Tenshouin Onii-sama!

Hiyori: That’s right! We decided to take a risk and aim for your “king”, Eichi-kun to turn the tables around…

(Wait. This is strange.)

(Our plan was that I would draw the “hunters’ (fishermen)” attention away while Anzu-chan and Touri-kun would get close to Eichi-kun.)

(But it’s far too quiet! I’m sure Eichi-kun would at least resist and try to run away. There’s supposed to be a fuss happening…!)

(Something happened! Something we didn’t expect!)

Touri: A–Ahh, ahh.

W–Why…?

Hiyori: (Touri-kun!? He’s acting strange!)

Tsukasa: That’s your aim!? Hmph, I can still manage to fire at this distance somehow…!

Hiyori: I won’t let you fire!

Tsukasa: Argh, don’t get in my way Tomoe Onii-sama! I must be the one to end Touri-kun…!

Touri: Just shut up!

Hiyori & Tsukasa: ………!?

Touri: Just be quiet. Please. My head’s a mess right now…

I mean, Eichi-sama is…

Eichi: …………

Touri: Eichi-sama’s dead.

Hiyori: W–What do you mean?

Touri: I–I’ve got no idea… We win if we touch the “king”, Eichi-sama, right?

So I got close to him… Then he collapsed a–and he got stabbed by t–the sword…

Hiyori: (Sword? Oh, he’s right! Unlike a gun, it wouldn’t make a sound, so no one would notice the killing!)

(But who did it? Eichi-kun has enemies from every direction, so it’s hard to guess who it is!)

(Someone who bears a grudge against Eichi-kun hired them to be their servant and used this opportunity to assassinate him…!?)

(If that’s the case, then the “Clam Digging” game would have been the perfect chance! Nobles are always armed or guarded closely but he was defenceless here!)

(We fit under those conditions too! It’s possible they might be aiming for us as well! I should let the others know and tell them to evacuate…!)

Touri: What’s going on? Just what on earth is going on?

Who? Who did this!? Who did this to Eichi-samaaaa!?

Tsukasa: Calm down, Touri-kun!

Touri: ………!?

Tsukasa: Tenshouin Onii-sama was killed? He was just talking to me a few minutes ago!

If he was killed, then it must have been within the time Tomoe Onii-sama distracted me!

In other words, the perpetrator should still be in the vicinity! Search the area – we must deliver their just punishment!

Touri: T–Tsukasa… I–I can’t. Unlike you, I don't know anything about fighting.

I–I don’t understand stuff like killing or being killed. S–So is that why I can’t understand Eichi-sama’s feelings?

Tsukasa: Get ahold of yourself, Touri Himemiya! Do you still call yourself my rival in that state!?

Touri: U–Uuu! *Sniff* B–But…!

Eichi: I see.

Touri: ………!?

Eichi: This is why I can’t leave everything to you just yet.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Vicarious (Part 39)

She has to at least respect her mother’s persistence. Although it isn’t a terribly hard task with the village being so small, Ursa had managed to track her down. Or so she thinks that she has. Azula wonders for just how long the woman has been conversing with Sokka, apologizing for touching her without asking. At the very least, Sokka hasn’t had to say anything at all, it seems as though mother has done most of the talking. 

Azula comes to stand behind Sokka who casts a glance over his shoulder. Relief twinkles in his eyes. She places a hand on his shoulder and he smiles at her. “Thank Raava you’re here.”

“Who is this?” Ursa asks.

“That’s a more complicated question than you think.” Azula replies for Sokka. She slides her hand down Sokka’s arm and finds a seat next to him. She is close enough to smell the citrus aroma of the inn’s provided shampoo and body wash. Close enough to see that her hair is damp. In spite of having taken a bath, Sokka has not bothered to change out of her night clothing nor brush her hair. 

“How is it complicated?”

“I’m Azula.” She shrugs. “And that’s Sokka.” She points at her own body. Sokka gives her hand a sheepish wave, one that serves to solidify her point. 

Ursa’s brows pinch as she looks between the two of them. “You…? How?”

“Well I imagine that it was similar to the manner in which you acquired an entirely new face.” 

The woman’s hand twitches, the result of resisting the instinct to reach out. Even if she had, Azula imagines that she wouldn’t be certain whose cheek she should cup. 

“You’re going to have to repeat everything you just said to me.” Sokka mentions. “It’ll probably go more smoothly since you have a better idea of what you want to say.” 

“How long have the two of you…?”

“The first time or the second time?” Azula smooths the fabric of her robes. 

“You’ve switched twice?”

“It was an accident both times.” Sokka mentions. “I’ve been taking good care of her, I promise. And she’s been taking good care of me. Honestly she probably does a better job with keeping me on top of hygiene than I do for myself.”

“Perhaps you should let some of the grooming routines you run through on my behalf carry over when we switch back.” She suggests. “It is more pleasant to…” She casts a glance at her mother. “Let you hold me, when you smell clean.” 

Ursa’s eyes widen just for a moment. “He’s a lover?” 

Azula nods. 

She stares at Azula and then at Sokka. She holds that stare for the longest time. 

“Is it that unbelievable for you to see that I can love someone?” That someone wants to love her.

Ursa shakes her head. “I just didn’t think that you would find love with someone who isn’t Fire Nation. I didn’t think that you would be interested in romance at all; you always had other priorities.” 

“Yes, all of my priorities were decided for me.” These days she has trouble deciding if they had been decided for her from the start or if they have been decided for her since the moment her mind had frayed. She can’t prioritize impressing father nor her drive to become Fire Lord. She can’t say that she had prioritized them on her own to begin with. And what of her firebending? She supposes that, that is still very much near the top of her priorities list. It is as soothing and empowering as it is exhausting and brutal. At least these days she has Sokka to give her little massages after she is through. 

Of course, depending on how long this goes on, she will be the one to give Sokka massages after he firebends on her behalf. 

“Perhaps I should come back at another time.” Ursa muses aloud. “When I can actually talk to you.”

“You’re still having the conversation with me. Would you like me to give Sokka a script to read so that you can hear it from my own lips or can we proceed?” She folds her arms across her chest. “I didn’t come all this way just to delay things further.” 

Further than she already had in losing her composure and running off.

“Are you alright?” The woman asks. 

“What?” 

“I upset you the last time we spoke and I want to know if you have been doing well. I shouldn’t have touched you. You’ve always been fickle about that, ever since you were a child.” Before Azula can reply the woman sputters. “Which is alright, some kids just don’t like to be held. I’ve always tried to teach Zuko to say no when he didn’t want hugs. And your father…I told him to hold you more, he probably confused you…”

Azula swallows. Swallows in spite of the tightness in her throat. She is still rambling, perhaps obnoxiously over-clarifying. But that doesn’t matter right now. It doesn’t matter because mother isn’t blaming her. For all of the words she is babbling, not one of them is accusatory. Mother wants to know if she has been handling things alright. Mother doesn’t demand apologies or blame her. “I’m fine.” She says. But her stomach is tickling and her head is some dizzy. With nerves, relief, happiness, dread? She isn’t sure other than knowing that she is overwhelmed by something or by many things at once.

“She’ll be alright.” Sokka smiles and takes hold of her hand. “I’ll make sure that she is while you talk to Zuko.” 

“Yes, thank you. How is he?” Ursa asks. “How is my baby boy?” 

“He’s a grown man.” Azula grumbles through her jitters. She doesn’t mean to be so sarcastic, really she had no need to speak at all. But she is nervous. 

Ursa nods with a wistful smile. “Yes, I imagine that he is.” Azula catches the way that her eyes fall on Sokka. She can see it in the woman’s eyes that she wants to touch Sokka’s cheek. “You’re…” She pauses. “You look like me when I was younger.” 

Azula swallows again. 

“I’m glad that I get to see you—”

“If you wanted to see me then why didn’t you come home?”

“I was afraid, Azula. I didn’t even know what I would say to Zuko, let alone you. We’ve always been strained, I was worried that coming home would make things worse. That it would…” she gestures vaguely. “Open old wounds.” 

“They never closed.” Azula said simply. 

“Yes. I suppose that I hadn’t considered that.” Ursa shakes her head. “Will you let me try to patch them up?” 

Azula purses slightly trembling lips, bunches her fists. She wants to be angry, she wants to take anger in a steely, unbreakable grip and hold onto it for as long as she can. For as long as it takes to stop feeling hurt. But she isn’t sure that she has any anger left in her, those flames have burned out some months into her depressive spiral. She doesn’t want to waste her rekindled energy on it, even if it is entirely justified. 

“You weren’t a bad child, Azula.”

Her throat is constricting all over again. 

“Difficult, maybe. Very, very opinionated and stubborn.” She chuckles. “And the more that I thought about it—about you and Zuko, the more I realized that we shared a lot of childhood behaviors. You weren’t a bad child. But I…I don’t think that I am a bad mother.” 

“No, perhaps you aren’t.” Perhaps it is more complicated than that. It almost always is. Everything is always so complicated and intricate. But she certainly wasn’t a good mother. And Azula isn’t certain of what kind of child she was. Difficult might just be the right word choice. 

“Why don’t we go inside?” Sokka suggests. “I’m sure that Zuko wants to say hi.” 

And Azula could use a breather. Perhaps a cup of tea and some time with a book while mother and Zuzu speak. Sokka rises to his feet and tries to put his arm over her shoulders. He can’t quite reach.

Ursa nods. “I would love to get to know both of you.” 

That is something else that they share; she wants to know herself. Perhaps the woman shouldn’t even bother getting to know her yet because there is still a good portion of her that is subject to change. But maybe that is a good thing. Maybe the woman would let to see her grow and evolve, she had missed it the first time. 

“Lets start with lunch?” Sokka suggests.

“If you’d like, I can take you, Zuko, and your boyfriend to my house and show you how to cook some Esukutai dishes.” Ursa offers. 

“Zuzu would probably enjoy that.” Azula replies. She isn’t sure if she will. She has never tried cooking. There are a lot of things that she has never tried. “First things first…” She pushes the door to the inn open. 

[rkpathology01]

Stay Home, Stay Healthy: The Joy of Blood Home Sample Collection

Introduction

Let’s face it—nobody really enjoys going to the lab for a blood test. Between the early morning rush, long queues, and that awkward moment when you realize you forgot to fast (oops!), it’s not exactly the highlight of anyone’s week. That’s why we’re here to save the day with Blood Home Sample Collection in Durg—a service that’s as convenient as it is stress-free.

So, sit back, relax, and let’s dive into why ditching the lab visit might just be the best decision you’ve ever made for your health (and sanity).

Why Go to the Lab When the Lab Can Come to You?

1. Your Couch is Comfier Than Our Waiting Room

Why endure hard chairs and awkward small talk when you can stay in your PJs and binge your favorite show while we do all the work? With our blood home sample collection service, the lab experience gets a major upgrade.

2. No More Excuses

“I don’t have time.” “It’s too far.” “I’ll go next week.”

Sound familiar? With home collection, there’s literally no excuse left. We’re bringing healthcare to your doorstep—literally!

3. It’s Hassle-Free and Hygienic

Our trained professionals follow top-notch hygiene protocols, ensuring a safe and sterile process. Plus, no need to brave the outside world during flu season!

Blood Home Sample Collection in Durg: How It Works

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Decks I Loved from Prague

Before diving into my favorite decks from Eternal Weekend Prague, I want to address why I’m not sharing my own results. Simply put, it’s been rough lately. My Modern performances have been pretty dismal—I’m often finishing near the bottom—and my last Legacy competition, the Belgian Legacy Cup, didn’t go much better. It’s been frustrating, but that hasn’t stopped me from digging through decklists and finding inspiration. So, here’s a look at the decks that stood out to me this time around.

Modern

The deck diversity was kind of boring—mostly Boros, Dimir, or Scales Combo, with a few Eldrazi decks thrown in. Storm didn’t perform well at all. That said, one Jeskai Nulldrifter deck managed to snag #3, which caught my eye.

https://melee.gg/Decklist/View/460524

Of course, the list runs four copies of The One Ring (TOR), and I’m sure it’ll look very different in a week or two. Still, it gives me a good starting point for improving my mana base.

At #23, there was a Ruby Storm deck with a really clean list. It had a green splash for Veil of Summer and a white splash for Prismatic Ending.

https://melee.gg/Decklist/View/460741

I love how streamlined it is while still having those options.

Another thing that stood out was how Broodscale Combo dropped all the Eldrazi cards and instead focused on +1/+1 counter synergies. It runs playsets of Walking Ballista and all sorts of +1/+1-themed cards, often in small numbers.

https://melee.gg/Decklist/View/459548

No Halfling cards at all! The #4 list is super lean and worth taking a closer look at.

Legacy

I saw via twitter that someone brought BUG Chain of Smog combo and was very excited. Unfortunately, the deck didn’t do well overall, but I’ve kind of built a reputation as the Smog guy, so I have to mention it. 😊

https://melee.gg/Decklist/View/459682

On the brighter side, Breakfast won the whole thing, piloted by a really strong player.

https://melee.gg/Decklist/View/460449

That is awesome to see! It’s a solid reference for me, and now I’m on the hunt for footage of the deck in action so I can level up my own gameplay.

Another deck that grabbed my attention is Omnitell running Borne Upon a Wind. It’s a clever way to get Show and Tell into play, but I wonder how often you can hit five mana consistently?

https://melee.gg/Decklist/View/460426

It’s an idea I’d like to explore further.

Vintage

Of course, I couldn’t resist checking out the Vintage results, especially the unpowered decks (since they have their own prizing). The strongest option is probably Dredge, though you’ll need four Bazaar of Baghdad to build it*. Even though it’s not part of the Power Nine, it’s still a pricey card.

The next best thing is Stompy variants, and this time Mono-White Stompy did pretty well.

https://melee.gg/Decklist/View/459886

It uses three Elvish Spirit Guides and a playset of Null Rod. It’s less expensive than Dredge, but still not exactly cheap.

One deck I’d love to try is a Frog Midrange build in a Sultai shell.

https://melee.gg/Decklist/View/460827

It looks pretty solid, running the usual suspects like Collector Ouphe (x4) and Oko, Thief of Crowns (x3), but surprisingly no Deathrite Shaman. The Thinker target is effing Blighttseel Collossus! Unfortunately, I’m missing way too many cards to even think about building it.

For those lucky enough to have Power Nine cards, the first Oath deck on the standings was really fun to see. It’s running some old-school tech: 2x Spaghetti Monster, Dragon’s Breath, and Channel to hard-cast la nonna!

https://melee.gg/Decklist/View/460857

It’s a blast from the past, and now I’m tempted to rebuild that version of the deck. I would be pissed, ending #9 but that's life!

That's all this time around for me. Catch you at FNM!

*Apparently, Bazaar of Baghdad and Mishra's Workshop are considered power as well for this ranking

[rydykg]

you made me realise i need to add more animals in my worlds,,,,, but I’ll answer this for absolute wishes bc it’s the only one I’m p confident about

okay so absolution.exe is a game. a deadly game, but a game nonetheless. uhh TL;DR there’s a shitton of worlds out there with different species and stuff, so there’s plenty of strange and unique creatures, but by far the hardest to get as pets are spirits/ghosts, mainly because the ones in the worlds are usually hostile and the main enemies in the first place. and even if you get one, you still gotta control it, and “taming” it may still backfire on you and kill you. animal spirits are some of the worst to try and tame beacuse to become a spirit in the first place they’ve gotta be infused with some really negative emotions and/or died a very horrid death, but the (current) worst of the worst?

well, there’s this (currently unnamed) wasp-like species. they have a hivemind, they don’t die after stinging and their stinging causes hallucinations, and if they’re spirits then they also feast on blood. they can initiate telepathic communication & share memories with each other and sometimes outsiders. they’ve got like four separate segments on them that are surprisingly sturdy, six short stubby legs, almost entirely transparent (like you can see their organs), their stingers are like thorns except very small so you don’t notice anything until it’s too late, hierarchy and shape similar to actual wasps. nothing too unusual by absolution.exe’s standards.

they would be a popular picking for pets mainly because they’re very small, they’re very useful (esp. for eavesdropping or spying), there’s many of them in one hivemind (number’s usually in the hundreds), they’re kinda low-maintenance as long as they have a big enough space + food supply (normally dew but also blood if they’ve become spirits), and they’re pretty resistant to most conditions. if it isn’t for one thing: the fucking hivemind.

look. they’re kind of like cats okay. mentality of “i let you own me” type stuff. if someone manages to successfully capture a hivemind and tries to tame it, the “head” of it will put them through a fuck ton of tests to see if they’re truly worthy of owning them as pets. each sector of the hivemind hierarchy starting from the bottom will be assigned a method of testing their potential owner, and you gotta satisfy every sector. the tests are notoriously annoying and even deadly at times, and they do not pull their punches. also, if the “head” of the hivemind senses anything wrong, say mind control or possession, it’ll let out a self-destruct order, which will lead anyone around to also get harmed in the process bc they explode and their stingers fly out, still with the hallucination effect!!

anyway people can have them as pets. it’s just extremely hard. which is why my mc will have them as pets <3

little check-in for creators and worldbuilders!

if you see this and have the energy, what's the most interesting thing people can have as a pet in your wips?

feel free to use this as an excuse to infodump :>

[i-wiggle-i-squirm-bc-i-am-a-worm]

Unnecessary discussion about Chat Noir and the Drums

There’s something I love so much about Chat playing the drums in Horrificator. This is something that’s been on my mind since I was 13, so hold on here.

First, obviously, Adrien also plays the piano - which obviously still has a lot of meaning!! - I’m not here to diss on the piano, there’s a lot of freedom of expression in every instrument type and music expression in general, but there’s a reason why some people are more inclined to different instruments, and I think there’s a lot more to it than just sound, but feeling as well. The role you play. How it feels to play it alone vs. playing it with others, if it’s typically something that you can play alone vs. in a group.

So first, the piano, and how I think it relates to Adrien’s character, plus how it relates to those points.

The piano, let’s be real, is something that a lot of us were forced to take lessons for at some point. It’s something that has ties to high society (there’s a HUGE discussion and so much more to say about that, but let’s not go there) and honestly?? I think it works pretty well with symbolizing the obsession with perfection that Gabriel shoves onto him. I’ve known many piano players, and while some genuinely loved playing it, it was always easier to somehow stumble onto someone with a deep hatred for it after being forced into lessons. Whenever I asked them why they hated it, I got almost the same answer every time: “I need to be perfect.” (Along with people saying that they were forced to lol)

Then there’s the role you play. You can play with people in a band, an orchestra, as an accompanist, a duet, at a bar with a bunch of people singing - whatever - music has many forms, and many different connections. But the piano is something you can play solo, no need for anyone else. It isn’t what you can do with other people that I’m focusing on for this, it’s the fact that you don’t need anyone. You can play alone, and it’ll still be fine. You can be alone, and you’re still fine - perfect even - which is something that Gabriel shoves down his throat, resistant to him playing with his friends by touching on this ideology.

Which is a glimpse into how he sees Adrien, and how Adrien experiences life. He can be alone, in fact he’s more perfect when he’s alone. And when other people are added, the attention to his perfection is taken away bit by bit, until he’s not good enough. He has to play solo in concert halls, on stage for everyone to watch, not in the back of a bar, playing with his friends.

Alright, so now we move to Chat Noir and the drums. The main play of this fake essay. 

It would be so easy to just ignore everything and just go “haha, he’s the energetic one, so ofc Ladybug gave him the drums! And they’re an easy instrument to play, etc.” but that’s far from the truth.

Ok, so I’m not a drum player or percussionist in any way, but I am a bass player, and genuinely love the drums so much because they’re incredibly important, and here’s my cheesy analogy: the drums are the heart of the band, keeping everyone on beat, it’s what you feel at the centre of it all. The band is nothing without the drums, without the percussion (The bass is what connects the band to the beat of the drums, kinda like the blood vessels, but sadly this ain’t about bass).  Like do you know how easy it is for a band to fall apart if they don’t have a drummer??? You need a drummer. You literally can’t survive without a drummer, because even if you manage to work together, use the bass as a backing, whatever you try, there’s still not much of a heart left.

But besides that, do you know how hard it is to play the drums??? You can’t just throw someone crazy, or energetic there just because “crazy drummers lol” you need someone who listens. Who can set the beat. Someone you can rely on, because they are the person in control, even if they aren’t as flashy as the guitar player. Reliable is the word that comes to mind. The drums can make or break a band.

And wanna know who that reminds me of?

Yeah. I highly doubt that the writers put this much thought into a random five second scene in an episode of season one, but it fits with Chat Noir SO well. 

Unlike the piano, the drums are almost solely played in a group setting - you need other people, and other people need you - he needs other people in his life, his friends are needed, but they also need him. Ladybug needs him, along with all the other heroes in Paris, whether he sees it or not. He seems to get in a state of thinking he’s not needed, but i do really think he’s the emotional glue that keeps the team connected, the heart that keeps them beating. If he’s isolated, he can’t quite reach his full potential that he can when he’s allowed to be around others, just like they can’t reach their own without him.

But on top of that, I think the stereotypes of the drums actually works in his favour for the next part. 

Breaking free from his dad, and being his own person, letting that fame go and embracing what he wants... well, to some that would look stupid. 

Relating it to music, the piano is flashy, you can play it solo, it sounds impressive, looks impressive, and people won’t think you’re just hitting pots and pans in the garage when you say you play it. But the drums are underestimated, a lot of people think you don’t need much practice, that they’re just the guys who sit at the back of the stage, not doing much, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Just like Adrien finally being who he wants wouldn’t be stupid, it could never be stupid, but there’s a stigma. But letting go of his flashy, solo life, and being the heart of his friend group is something that I think makes him truly happy as Chat Noir, and hopefully he gets to be like that as Adrien too.

Like Plagg said, Chat Noir and Adrien are both the real him, and I think the drums capture that perfectly. The heart and freedom, the meticulousness (rather than perfection) and steadiness, those are good qualities of a drummer.

I dunno, I just think it fits.

(sdfghjklkjhgf again I should state that acoustic versions of songs exist, and you can play songs without a drum and it sounds fantastic, but I’m not going into that today. Just talking generalization, and playing in a group setting).