#since again I don’t think spice really works with this family

[quibbs126]

I want a Charcoal Cookie

I mean, you can have activated charcoal in food, like charcoal cheddar, black ice cream, other things I can’t find (without the internet telling me there was some sort of trend about putting it in food, I’m just looking for actual food with it). So I mean, it works if you need the Cookies to be made of something edible

Also, maybe with charcoal being burnt wood, they could have a connection to Millennial Tree Cookie? Like, they were once a part of his forest, or even a branch from his tree, that got burnt into charcoal and then turned into a Cookie? And maybe they hold resentment for it? I dunno, just a neat idea pertaining to it I had

And also I want to make a joke about them eating wood to like, keep their powers active, like they have fire powers and they need to eat wood to keep it burning. But also they just eat sticks. Like yes, they eat other food, but they will just chomp on a twig

Just a random thing

[prettyfastcars]

rumours about you | Mob!Lando

Summary: You’re not necessarily happy regarding the announcement your family just made – about how you would be marrying one of their allies’ sons in order to unite forces and what not. You had multiple issues with your family making major decisions about your life just like that, but the main one was that you disliked the one they chose for you to marry. Lando. So you decided to confront him, thinking the two of you would work together and find a way to call off the wedding. But Lando has other plans. 

Themes: arranged marriage, smut, explicit language, enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies ish, degrading kink, dom!lando, slightly bratty!reader

“I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes.” 

When you showed up to his house – or mansion rather – earlier, his butler told you to wait for him in his study room. The butler also said that Lando would be home soon. You were not very patient at the moment given the unsteadiness of your life, so waiting for half an hour was driving you insane. 

Had it not been for the multiple bookshelves to explore and inspect, you would’ve surely lost it. 

Lando paused briefly at the doorway upon hearing the sound of your voice. Then he walked into the room in that arrogant manner of his, that maddening smile on his face, and shut the door behind him. 

The bastard knew he looked good and he flaunted it always. Nice and muscular, that tailored, dark suit looked damn good on him. Little bit of facial hair, brown curls on his head and those damn pretty eyes. Not to mention those natural, extra long lashes that would make anyone jealous. 

He smirked when he caught you checking him out. “Apologies,” He said, “But your future husband is a very busy man, you might wanna get used to it.” 

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the large desk, watching said future husband as he walked straight toward the mini bar and began making drinks. You noticed he grabbed two glasses so at least he was polite. But you weren’t here to have drinks and chit chat. So you got straight to it. 

“I want you to call off the wedding.” You said. 

“This is the third time we’re having this conversation.” Lando sent you a look before turning back to focus on the drinks. “And I’m asking you again, why would I do that?” He asked.

You were quiet for a moment. You two had had this conversation twice already. And each time, Lando would just send you home without listening to what you had to say. 

“Because…” You trailed off, then tried again, “Because we would be miserable together. I mean,” You chuckled humorlessly, “Marrying to unite forces? Really?” You sounded disgusted, “That’s so old fashioned.” 

Lando finally walked away from his minibar with two drinks in his hands. He sipped on one and when he made it over to you, shamelessly letting his eyes roam all over your body before he handed you the other glass. You accepted it and took a sip as well. It was some kind of spiced whiskey, and you welcomed the burn. 

He shrugged, sliding one hand into his pocket. “I see no problem with it,” He said, looking you deep in the eyes with his bluish green ones. “It’s been happening for decades in both our families. It’s made us strong, powerful, and wealthy.” 

You closed your eyes and sighed, “Then go find someone else. I don’t want to marry you.” 

Truth is, you’d known Lando and his family since you were a kid. Dinner parties, galas, birthdays, family vacations, he was always around. And you disliked him even as a child. He was too loud, too popular. Then he got older and got hot, then slept around like it was his job. The rumours that circulated around about him were… not very pleasant. 

Lando raised an eyebrow at you. “Why not?” He teased. “I’m perfect.” 

You gave him a fake smile and said, “I would rather marry someone who is less of a manwhore.” 

He chuckled. “That just means I have more experience.” He stated, then leaned closer and whispered into your ear, “Experience that I can use to turn you into my perfect little wife. Both in and out of the bedroom.” 

You scoffed, “You’re disgusting.” 

“I’ve been called worse things, princess.” 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Look just… call it off.” 

He asked, “Why don’t you do it?” 

“You think I haven’t tried? They won’t listen to me. They say I’m just throwing another tantrum. Like I’m some kind of child.” You stated, finishing your drink and leaning against the desk again. Lando stepped closer, invading your personal space, looking at you like you were some kind of oddity. “What are you doing?” You hissed. 

He finished his drink and said, “Just thinking about how I’ll handle your tantrums in the future. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours, I’m very good with brats.” 

You should’ve known this would be useless. So instead of arguing, you said to him, “If we ever get married, I will never let you put a finger on me. You hear me?” 

The asshole smiled like he was looking at a little puppy. “You’re cute when you try to stand your ground, princess.” He said in a lowered voice. “But we both know you’ll turn into a puddle the moment I touch you.” 

Then his hands were on you, holding you by the waist as he pulled you into him. Chests pressing together, you were speechless for a moment as you stared into his pretty eyes. He smelt so good too. 

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Lando smirked, “What did you think you were doing, huh? Showing up at my house in a tiny little dress, asking me to call off the wedding, accusing me of being a whore too.” He chuckled. “You’re a mess, babygirl. Don’t you see it?” He asked. “A complete brat who needs some taming.” 

He also noticed the way you clenched your thighs together, like you were craving friction down there. 

“Don’t you see you need me?” His voice was softer now, and still condescending. He leaned in and whispered, his lips brushing against the side of your mouth as he did, “I can help. I can make you the most perfect wife for me. Obediently, polite,” He chuckled, “And dirty, but only for me. I’ll handle all your tantrums in private, and I’ll be so, so good to you.” 

You couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your mouth at the sound of his words. They should’ve offended you, they would’ve if it wasn’t for the wetness gathering in your flimsy underwear. 

He was so close, his lips just an inch away from your own. His scent was driving you insane. You knew whatever was gonna happen from now on would change everything. But you couldn’t stop, you didn’t want to. 

So when he brought his hand in between your legs and slid it up your dress, you let him. You let out a gasp when he cupped you down there, instinctively rubbing his fingers against your dripping wet folds. 

Lando scoffed, “See? Told you you’d turn into a puddle.” You whimpered as he lazily circled your clothed clit, smearing your wetness around. “Filthy, little brat.” He chuckled, then pushed your underwear to the side to touch you properly. You let out a loud moan and he smirked, pressing his lips against yours but not kissing you yet. 

“Please…” You begged. 

“Please what?” He scoffed again as he slid a finger inside you and felt you clenching hard around him. “Still want me to call off the wedding?” He teased, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. “Answer me, what do you want? Hmm? You want to come like a good girl or do you want to be a haughty brat and cause a scene?” 

He stroked you so perfectly, so slowly that it made you lose your mind. “Please, Lando…” You gasped. 

He added another finger as he chuckled darkly. “Look at you,” He taunted, “Showing up here again and again, acting all tough and assertive. Thinking you can tell me what to do? Hmm? You think this is how it’s gonna work?” He pulled away a little to look at your pleading eyes. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll teach you everything. I’ll worship your entire fucking existence. I’ll fuck you until you forget your own name. And in return all you have to do is be a good girl, and eventually, my wife. Yeah?” 

You nodded a little too quickly. He laughed. 

“No more of this call off the wedding nonsense. You hear me?” 

You nodded again. 

“Good girl. See? You’re learning already.” He removed his hands from in between your legs and said, “Get naked, and bend over my desk.” 

As if under some kind of spell, you obeyed immediately. You took the dress off, then removed your underwear and dropped all your clothes into a little pile. You took one look at him and he pointed at the edge of the desk, so you did as he asked. 

As your cheek pressed against the cold surface of the polished wood, your hands laid palm down on each side of your head, you could hear him behind you as he took his suit jacket off and probably also rolled the sleeves of his button up shirt to his elbows. 

Then you felt his hands on you again, rubbing up and down your sides, your hips, your back as he pressed his clothed erection against you from behind. Another whimper escaped your mouth when you felt it. Warm, and hard, rubbing against your wetness. 

He bent down and whispered into your ear, his chest pressing lightly against your back, “You see how nice it feels when you’re obedient, baby?” He trailed his fingers down your spine and in between your legs again. 

You squirmed under him, against the desk. Breathing heavily as he took his time and touched you like he was in no rush. You whined as he touched a sensitive spot inside you, “Please… stop teasing me,” You sounded just as desperate as you were. 

He kissed your ear, making you shiver just at the mere touch of his lips, before saying, “Well, since you asked so nicely.” 

The sound of him undoing his belt and lowering his zipper made your heart race. You felt his rough, but warm hands on your body again as he grabbed you on either side of your hips before pressing the tip of his cock against your hole. But he didn’t slide his cock inside of you yet because of course, he wanted to make you suffer some more. 

“Are you gonna behave from now on?” He asked, sliding the tip of his cock up and down your slit, making you whine and cry out in desperation. 

“Yes…” You whispered. “Yes, just please–,” 

The sound of his hand slapping your thigh cut you off. Followed by a slight sting which made you squirm and whine some more. Lando’s voice was deeper now when he spoke, “What did I say about ordering me around? Hmm?” 

You tried to push back into him but he pulled away chuckling each time you did. So finally you said, “I’m sorry.” 

“Good girl,” He whispered, slowly pushing inside you until he filled you up, feeling your walls tighten around him immediately. “Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel like fucking heaven.” He groaned, muttering under his breath as he fucked you with shallow thrusts. 

Lando grabbed your wrists and pinned them down at your lower back, using it as leverage to fuck deeper into you, harder, faster. He laughed when you began whining even louder, mumbling incoherently as he fucked you. 

“Sure you wanna give this up, baby?” He questioned, gradually building up his pace. “You sure you don’t want this little pussy to be full of me each night? For the rest of your life? Huh?” 

The sound of of you two fucking was driving you insane. 

“You’re gonna be addicted to this cock now, you’re gonna want it all the time.” He boasted. “But you can only have it when you’re a good girl, you hear me?” 

His breathy moans, his raspy voice, your body bumping against the desk with each thrust, the sound of metal from his belt clinking together, it was all too much, too good. 

“Please…” You whimpered, begging for more. 

“Yeah? This is all you needed, isn’t it, baby? Acting like a disobedient brat, thinking you make the rules, all of it just because you needed to be fucked and put in your place, huh?” He growled, tightening his grip on your wrists as he fucked you harder, feeling your walls getting tighter around him. 

You whined, “Lando… I–” 

He cut you off quickly, “Hold it, don’t come yet.” 

He thrust his cock harder into you, making your eyes water and your heart race. Then he just stopped, abruptly. Pulled out and pulled you up from the desk, turning you to face him. 

“You didn’t think it was gonna be that easy, did you?” He grabbed you by the chin as he spoke, staring deep into your eyes. You could barely form a thought. Lando just scoffed and leaned in to kiss you, hard, before pulling away and saying, “Get down on your knees.” 

Lust-drunk and under his spell, you did. You got down on your knees in front of him. You watched how he grabbed his cock at the base and guided his tip over to your already open mouth and said, “Now be a good girl, and suck.”  

You opened your mouth wider as he slowly pushed himself deep into your mouth. He grabbed the back of your neck and gently guided you. 

“That’s it. See? You’re learning already? That’s how a good wife sucks her husband’s cock,” He hissed in pleasure. You looked up and met his pretty eyes. He looked down at you like you belonged there, kneeling before him with his cock in your mouth. 

You felt his smooth skin along your tongue, tasting his precum as he groaned and hissed in pleasure. You whimpered, circling his tip with your tongue before sucking on it gently. 

“Look at me.” 

When you looked up at his handsome face, he said, “Fuck… you’re so beautiful, you know that? Come on now. Up.”  

Lando had you sit on the edge of the table again before he stepped in between your legs. Your arms wrapped around his neck immediately, fingers sliding into his curly hair as he leaned in to kiss you again. It was a deep kiss again with him growling into your mouth with impatience. 

He kissed his way down your neck as he aligned his cock to your core again. He slipped inside you with ease this time, making you gasp at how good he felt as he began fucking you. 

“You feel that?” He asked, as he grabbed your thighs and pushed them further apart so he could fuck you deeper. “This cock can be all yours, baby.” He whispered, lips brushing against your own as he spoke. “You can have it anytime, all day, every day if you want.” He fucked you hard, fast and deep. Your body would’ve fallen on top of the desk had he not wrapped his arms around you to keep you close. 

You moaned incessantly, not caring if his butler or housekeepers heard. “Lando …” You gasped, “I’m so close…” You whimpered. 

He chuckled. “Are you now?” He teased. “Your little pussy feels so good… so fucking tight like it was made for me,” He whispered against your skin and you barely heard him given your heartbeats echoed in your ear, you were breathless, you wanted more. 

You whined as you felt yourself getting so close to the edge again as he pounded into you relentlessly. You felt a familiar pressure in between your legs, all of it getting too much to handle.

“Lando, please,” You cried out, looking into his eyes and silently pleading. “Please, can I come?” 

He smirked, feeling your walls clench violently around him. “See I told you I was very good with brats. Look at you no longer complaining, no longer whining about wanting to call off our wedding.” His voice sounded deeper when he spoke. Then he saw that look in your eyes, you were close to losing your mind so he finally said, “Come on then, baby. Come all over this cock.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice. You came with a loud cry of his name, walls clenching around him and milking him so perfectly that he followed shortly after, coming undone while he was buried deep inside you, gripping your thigh tightly and holding you close. 

You rested your forehead on his shoulder as you both caught your breath. He wrapped his arms around your shaking body, caressing up and down your back while you held on to him like he was your everything. 

“So?” He asked in that mocking tone of his. “Still want to call off the wedding?” 

“I hate you.” You mumbled, voice muffled given you’d shoved your face into the crook of his neck. You hated how comforting his body heat was. 

Lando chuckled. “Of course you do.” He taunted. Then leaning down to get closer to your ear he whispered, “Your pussy just strangled my cock so hard I’m pretty sure it left bruises on it. But sure, you hate me.” 

You whined, squirmed a little because his words made a weird wave of pleasure wash over you. 

Lando laughed and said, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.” 

[struggling-author]

Hey what are your avatar otps besides azulaang?

oh umm… I wouldn’t call them OTPs since that is exclusively Azulaang, but my bi Azula headcanon lives in a variety of ships. Azutara, Azuki, Maizula… not Tyzula tbh because that feels like… imbalanced? and not Tophzula because they are menace-besties but not romantic, but with any of the other girls I think it could be great. Azutara has the enemies to lovers from Azulaang but with more spice and less forgiveness, they‘d tear eachother apart first but that makes it even sweeter if they eventually fall in love. Azuki is kind of different because Suki is more rational and holds less of an emotional grudge, it‘d be difficult for Azula to earn her trust but she would not be openly hostile to her unless necessary. I imagine this one could only happen if Azula is already in the middle or post redemption though, because Suki would not put up with any EtL shit. I guess that is exactly why it intrigues me too, I feel Suki would be more willing to give Azula a chance, more than Katara for example, but at the same time it would be impossibly hard to win her trust and I‘d like to see if Zula can manage it. Lastly Maizula, and I prefer this one over Tyzula because I feel Mai is more capable of holding her own against Azula in a relationship. It’s a complicated version of childhood friends to lovers and I‘m kind of here for it. No idea how it would work though lol.

Aside from Azula ships, I think Zutara is pretty cool and works well alongside Azulaang. Kataang is kinda cool in theory too, but I don’t like shipping Aang with anyone except Azula, it feels wrong 🤷‍♂️ The only other Aang ship I can imagine liking is Zukaang, but I don’t talk about it much.

Oh and I have to give a shoutout to Sokkla, I don’t particularly vibe with it but they’re the sister ship to Azulaang and I do see the potential of the two genius strategists, so if Aang didn’t exist I would definitely ship Sokkla instead. Nothing but love to the comrades over there. 🫶🏼

edit: totally forgot this but I actually also love Tylaang aka Ty-Lee and Aang, it just has absolutely no fandom so it’s hard to get the ball rolling. I just feel they would be such a wholesome bubbly cute ship, and I dig the Ty-Lee airbender ancestry theory so she‘d love to learn all about airbender customs and they‘d have so much fun and probably a huge family 😅 anyway I think party of why I ship this is just because I think these two deserve the world and it represents my wish for them to be totally carefree and happy. you can also add Azula and make this a throuple, I think that would work because you have Tyzula as the polar opposites and Aang in the middle to bridge the gap.

speaking of throuples I enjoy the idea of… Azutaraang? (Azula/Katara/Aang) but it is very difficult to make work. The only way I can see it is if Azula and Katara fall in love first because nothing good could come of them fighting over Aang. or maybe I could see like a stranded on a deserted island AU where the three of them have to work together and learn to rely on eachother… idk, difficult but not impossible.

Oh and I love Zuki too (Zuko x Zuki) …damn I guess I do have quite a few non-Azulaang ships. anyway this is essentially a bodyguard AU and it’s actually my favorite Zuko ship (sorry Zutara) not much to say about it cuz I’ve barely engaged with it, but I love the idea and think they would just work really well together. I also can see this as a throuple with Sokka again. I don’t really vibe with Zukka on their own but if you add Suki then I love it, because Suki deserves two good boys and it’s more fun for everyone involved if those two good boys are in love with eachother too.

final edit hopefully: Sokka Azula Aang is good too, for the same reasons listed for Zuko Suki Sokka, I swear that’s it now. goodbye lol.

[piggyjeans]

Can you do a Ryan Reynolds x teen reader? Maybe Ryan is in an interview and talks about how cool it is to work with the reader in a movie they are filming together and how he thinks of them as a daughter/son and is kind of like their mentor? And tag me in it please

Ryan reynolds x teen!reader, ryan reynolds x coworker reader, platonic ryan reynolds :P

(A/n) Hey! Ya ofc :) sorry it took a while to respond, and sorry this is kinda short I’m just trying to push through a bunch of requests as quickly as I can. I also didn’t proof read this so if there’s any problems lmk and yeah!!!! Also this isn’t my fav or anything. I wrote it super quick and I feel like it sucks ass so yeah let me know what u think please. Comments or likes or reblogs encourage me sm. Also lmk if u wanna be added to my tag list x <3 enjoy!

Requested by: @shycollectionwolfstuff

Warnings: maybe like mentions neglect or loneliness during childhood bc of acting but it’s not really that sad or graphically explained or anything. Aside from that I don’t think anything but correct me if I’m wrong <3

Readers pronouns: they/them

You thoroughly enjoyed working with ryan. You had similar senses of humor and it was rare to find an adult who treated you like an equal human even though you were a lot younger than him.

During filming, you created a special bond. And on the press tour, you spent most of your days together and the bond only became stronger. Having done two interviews earlier in the day, you were now onto your third. And sometimes it can get really repetitive and difficult. Ryan knows that’s discouraging for you, so he always tries to make it more interesting for you if he can. That includes spicing the conversation up with humor, or telling jokes, or making sure he has a different answer every time even if the same questions are being asked.

The interviewer walks into the room you and Ryan are sitting in for the third time. You sulk into your seat slightly, not particularly looking forward to this boring aspect of the press tour. You give him a big smile to try to hide the fakeness you feel.

“Hello, how are you?” The interviewer asks, shaking Ryan's hand, then yours.

“Never better,” You say happily. The interviewer smiles back at you genuinely. Guess it’s understandable why you became such a big actor who got to work with Ryan reynolds.

“Really? I’m tired as hell,” Ryan exasperates looking over at you, before mimicking your sulk in your chair. You sit up straight and raise your eyebrows, giving the interviewer an unbelievable smile. You were always taught to be professional in interviews and workplaces. It’s difficult to be when you’re around ryan.

“Long day?” The interviewer asks jokingly, looking between you and ryan. You giggle and nod. Ryan closes his eyes sleepily.

“Alright, then. Let’s get this show on the road so y’all can get out of here,” The interviewer says. It’s always good when you have an interviewer who can play along with a joke. Ryan sits up, content with the predicament.

“So, how long did it take to film this movie? I heard there was a lot of trouble with production time, did that affect your work schedules?” The interviewer asks, suddenly dropping his joking attitude.

You start to answer the question without a glance at Ryan, since you both would rather get the interview over with. “It took about four straight months of work to wrap. Production took a halt because of covid, but not even the directors were really working at that time. So from start to finish it probably took four months,” You say professionally. Ryan glances at you, then at the interviewer, “what they said,” he added.

“Right so, you two only worked with each other for about four months, or?” The interviewer says lightheartedly. Again, you take the question right away, “Well, no. Filming started before the pandemic hit the United States. So we actually quarantined together for a little while before we had to abandon ship and go back to our respective families, you know? But after restrictions were let up, we got back together to film, and then we both caught covid at one point, so we actually had to quarantine together for a second time,” you say, laughing, looking over at ryan who sat with his hands in his lap, looking at you with a proud and genuine small smile on his face.

Whenever you watched interviews or anything of the two of you, you noticed that he usually just sits and listens to you contently whenever you speak. He enjoys listening to you and being around you, and it makes you feel really good

“Wow. So, how was it working and spending that much time together? You two have a huge age difference and I imagine it could have been like a culture shock, because of how different the two of you seem,” The interviewer asks, mostly to you, occasionally glancing at ryan.

“Well actually,” you start to take the question but Ryan cuts you off this time. “No no, you got the last two questions. This one’s mine,” He spoke. You look at the interviewer and smile, sitting back in your seat almost humiliated. You didn’t want to ramble on or take the thunder away from Ryan, and now you’re worried he’s upset with you or something you said.

“A lot of people said it might be difficult to work with y/n because of how young they are, but I think that makes it even better. I get to learn about them and their whole generation every time I speak to them. They teach me things that I never could have understood if I never met them, and I’m lucky to have worked with them. If you keep working with the same people… like Hugh Jackman for example… ugh, hate that guy. Anyways, it’ll get boring. But with y/n, they’re so cool that you never really get tired of working with them. And I would work with them again if given the opportunity. They’re one of the coolest actors ever. Cooler than Hugh Jackman, for sure.”

Ryan rambles quickly. You stay sitting back in your seat, trying really hard to not let tears cloud your vision. You’re 15, don’t cry over this, be mature, you think to yourself, fighting the cloudy eyes.

It’s just difficult for you because you started acting at a young age and a lot of people don’t ever encourage you or tell you what you’re doing right. People are so uncomfortable with being honest and usually actors are only in it to do their job and not create relationships or bond at all, and as a kid, or a teenager it’s hard because you’re already giving up a lot of your life and a lot of socializing for this. It’s necessary to have someone like Ryan in your life who isn’t afraid of encouraging you or lifting you up. Especially when nobody else does.

“Thanks.” You mutter, looking down at your hands in your lap. Feeling like you experienced severe emotional whiplash. You want to give Ryan a big hug and spend time with him, something that’s not professional at all. You can’t wait for these interviews to be over, but you remember you have to finish said interviews before you can be so honest with ryan. Unless you answer the same way he did, now.

“Well, I’ve never worked with someone as special as Ryan. It sucks I worked with him so early in my career because now No one will ever live up to the expectations I’ve formed because of him. He’s taught me half of the things I know and it’s been an honor to have him as not only a co worker, but a mentor. And even after the press tour and everything is over, I know the relationship we have will never be over. Because he cared enough to put work into me and I know he can’t just give all that up. He’s a narcissist so he probably wants to see how I turn out so he can like, brag about me or something. Always caught up in his own head,” you finish comedically to try to give your speech a similar feel to his.

You look at Ryan and he has tears in his eyes. “My heart.” He dramatically and jokingly says, fanning his eyes, then leaning over to hug you. You close your eyes and smile into his shoulder as the interviewer sits there motionlessly, smiling at the picture in front of him.

Two interviews to go, then the day is over.

-

..

-

Taglist: @ohworm-writes @spidyyparker @littlemortals @americaarse LMK IF U WANNA BE ADDEDDD :) <333333 have a great day x

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2022 Masterlist by spaceman-earthgirl

Prompts are based on this list by @kmsdraws

1. Summer

The superfriends are trying to plan Kara and Lena's wedding...the couple have to break the news to everyone that they couldn't wait and already got married.

2. Swift

Lena surprises Kara with a trip to Midvale.

3. Drunk

Lena turns up drunk at Kara's apartment late at night.

4. Office

The superfriends play hide and seek. And Kara and Lena end up hiding in a closet together.

5. Orange

Esme and Kara tell bad jokes. Lena's found herself a family.

6. Leaves

"I flew into a tree."

"No shit, Sherlock, I want to know why you flew into a tree."

or Kara flies into a tree because of her crush on Lena.

7. Night

Kara gets worried when she doesn't hear from Lena, so she goes to check on her best friend and finds her asleep on the couch.

8. Rain

"Hey, Le- oh, gosh, you're soaking, what happened?"

or Lena goes to Kara's apartment after she gets caught in a storm

9. Fresh

Lena surprises Kara with a pecan pie for her birthday.

10. Ice

Lena is always cold, and she uses Kara to keep herself warm.

11. Forest

Lena and Kara go camping. Lena hates it.

12. Evening

Kara and Lena have their first night out together since having a baby. This fic was based on this amazing art by @sheltereredturtle

13. Peace

Lena has made peace with the fact that her feelings for Kara are unrequited.

14. Soaring

Kara gushes to Alex about kissing Lena.

15. Warmth

Kara and Lena's plans are ruined because of the rain. So they make different plans instead.

16. Sparks

A follow up to Peace, where supercorp kiss after Kara thinks they've been dating for a month while Lena thinks they're just friends.

17. Cafe

Lena's having a bad day, which turns around quite dramatically when she meets her soulmate.

18. Secret

"Lena’s pretty sure Supergirl has just walked into Noonan’s. And no, she doesn’t mean Supergirl, with the cape and the skirt, but Supergirl who apparently wears glasses and a cardigan in her free time."

19. Suit

Kara decides to wear a suit on her wedding day. Lena loves it.

20. Kara

"Every time Lena’s phone lights up, and she sees her best friend’s name on the screen, it makes her heart stutter stupidly in her chest and it makes her smile like a schoolgirl with a crush."

21. Broken

Lena comes up with a solution when Kara and Esme struggle to be in the same room together because of their powers.

22. Skull

Lena comforts Kara after she's had a nightmare.

23. Spice

Lena's been working too much lately and Kara's barely seen her, so Kara surprises her with lunch.

24. Lena

"Maybe getting older isn't so bad if you kiss me like that."

or it's Lena's 29th birthday.

25. Comfy

Lena's 8 months pregnant and just can't get comfortable. Luckily her wife is there to help.

26. Acorn

Kara and Lena go to a farmers market together. Kara is not a fan of all the healthy food.

27. October

"I can't believe you chose today of all days to tell me you love me."

Or it's Lena's birthday, and Kara tells her best friend how she really feels.

28. Holiday

Kara gets caught stealing Christmas cookies during Kara and Lena's first Christmas together as a couple.

29. Bonfire

It's the annual Danvers family bonfire night, and all of Kara's friends and family are there with her.

30. Spell

Kara's in the hospital wing when in walks an injured Lena Luthor.

or a Harry Potter au where Lena's family has a bad reputation but that doesn't stop Kara befriending Lena. Also, Lena has a cat.

31. Spookycorp

“You can’t punch a ghost, Alex! And what about clowns? You don’t know what’s going on under that face. And don’t even get me started on zombies. They’re dead, so you can’t kill them again!”

or Kara and Lena visit a haunted house and Kara is scared.

[keen-as-a-peach-2217]

All the Gold in the World

Or, Peasley doesn’t acknowledge gender norms and wants to see Luigi in a pretty dress.

Very nervous! This is my first complete Mario fic, so I’m posting it here first to see what the response is. If it’s decently received, I’d like to clean it up and post it to my Ao3. While I’m not what I’d call a master wordsmith, it’s a labor of love, so please enjoy, and critiques are welcome as well!

EDIT: We’re live on Ao3! 

~~~~~~

There it was again, that telltale sparkle in those big, blue, beautiful eyes. It was just as Peasley had hoped: an invitation to sneak away from the dreary duties of the palace in favor of strolling an upscale shopping pavilion arm-in-arm, a bit of light conversation about how worn his favorite tunic was becoming and won’t you help me choose a new one today, my love?, and a break for coffee that just happened to see them seated across from a display of some of the finest, most colorful, undoubtedly most expensive gowns in the kingdom, all efforts to disguise (and eventually expose) his true plan. Seeing the awe in his Luigi’s eyes as he cast longer and longer glances at the display, watching the corners of his lips twitch beneath his mustache as the subtle spark of innuendo grew into a flame of yearning… he’d known it, oh, he’d known it all along!

Now, Peasley was very clever, and his consort had the loveliest of tastes, so how this knowledge had eluded him for so long, he was ashamed to say he wasn’t certain. But it didn’t matter now. The only question that mattered now was—

“Which of those gowns are you eyeing, my pet?”

Luigi sputtered so hard that a small mouthful of coffee forced its way past his lips.

“Wh— gowns? What gowns?” he stuttered, wiping the coffee dribbling from his chin with the back of his hand, a shamed blush overtaking him. “I don’t see any gowns!”

Peasley, unfazed, handed him a paper napkin. “I was thinking the deep green A-line with the bell sleeves, personally. The color’s a given, and the silhouette would compliment your form exquisitely. Perfect for the upcoming Edamame Extravaganza.”

Luigi hastily wiped his glove and the table clean, his mouth opening and closing in a way that wasn’t unlike a Cheep Cheep caught on dry land. Assorted sounds came out, but nothing coherent. 

Peasley couldn’t help but chuckle. His Greenie had a number of interests he’d tried to hide, offering up such excuses as “It’s embarrassing!” and “It’s really nothing, just a dumb pastime, you know?” when he was inevitably discovered. Yet every last one of those interests enamored Peasley, and perhaps none more so than this. Oh, how proud he was of his own detective work.

“I— I-I just couldn’t pull off a dress that well,” Luigi finally managed, “you know?”

“Nonsense! You once pulled off a more stunning Peach than the real deal. You didn’t hear that from me, of course.”

Luigi simply hid behind his coffee, humming nervously. His Starbeans order was always the same: a medium-roast Hoolumbian with so much nutmeg that the air around them smelled like a winter market. Watching him sip and hum and blush, Peasley found himself craving pumpkin spice.

“But they’re so… expensive, right?” Luigi eventually said into his near-empty cup. “I-I could never! I’d never ask for something like that!”

Ah, of course! His Luigi had come from a commoner’s background, after all. Little had changed since he’d become Prince Consort of the Beanbean Kingdom. He was still more comfortable in cotton and denim than the tunics and robes of the palace, he still preferred tinkering with pipes and assorted machinery to sitting in committees or kissing babies as adoring citizens fawned over him, and, so it would seem, he still worried about money, as though an entire royal family’s wealth wasn’t his to partake in.

“You needn’t concern yourself with such matters!” Peasley’s right hand met Luigi’s left, their fingers lacing together. Luigi’s hands were larger, quite a bit so, and yet they fit Peasley’s like a lock and key. “I would never offer something I couldn’t afford to give.”

That statement wasn’t entirely true — he’d promise his love a five-course banquet if all he had was a single loaf of bread, and by the stars he’d make it happen — but he could most certainly afford this, and that was essential to reinforce. For weeks now, he had been privately swooning to thoughts of Luigi strolling through the lush gardens of the palace, clad in silk and velvet that swished at his feet with every step, a crown of matching roses in the place of his favorite hat. He was one step closer to bringing that image into reality, and that was worth all the gold in the world.

And yet the reassurance didn’t seem to quell any of Luigi’s worries — in fact, he only looked more stressed, more uncertain. He stared awfully hard at some spot on the table that Peasley couldn’t see, and his fingers had gone rigid in Peasley’s hold, and— was he… trembling?

Dread blossomed in Peasley’s gut. What had he done wrong?

“Luigi.” His opposite hand reached out to touch his face, offer comfort, but he stopped himself. Right. He typically preferred not to be touched when he was like this. “Luigi, my darling, what’s wrong?”

For a long moment, Luigi didn’t respond. And so Peasley waited, patient, ready to offer whatever words of comfort he needed.

“I can’t wear a dress,” Luigi finally said. It wasn’t a bashful excuse. It was a lament.

Confusion clouded Peasley’s rationale. Normally, he would drop the topic, see to Luigi’s wellbeing, and then ask questions when his beloved was in comfortable night clothes with a mug of hot chocolate in the privacy of their chambers. But that deadly mix of confusion and curiosity compelled him to squeeze his hand and ask, “Whyever not?”

At that, Luigi shook his head. “It’s so silly.” He cast a rueful smile to the side, but he did squeeze Peasley’s hand back, so that was progress, at least.

“‘Silly,’” Peasley said, scooting his chair in as far as it would go without crushing his midsection, “is Desi showing up drunk to Chori’s beanceañera on last night’s episode of The Mung and the Restless. What’s not silly is anything that causes you distress.”

Luigi laughed at that, quietly, but genuinely, and his eyes briefly met Peasley’s. They still sparkled, but with something new, something much more melancholy.

“It’s… it’s kind of a holdover, I guess.” He looked back down as he turned Peasley’s hand over, gloved thumb tracing aimlessly over his palm. “From my old world.”

“From Bruck-Len?” Peasley confirmed, watching Luigi’s thumb travel its idle path. “Did something happen there?”

Luigi set his lips into a thin line, and a short but not uncomfortable silence fell over them while he gathered the words he needed. “Nothing one-off, it was more… In Brooklyn, you couldn’t… guys really couldn’t wear those sorts of clothes, you know? If you do, you get made fun of, called names, roughed around, ‘cause you’re not, you know, not a real man.”

Peasley blinked, looking back up. Luigi didn’t meet his gaze.

The quality of one’s character based on the fabric they clad themselves in. The notion made little sense to Peasley.

“Well, what constitutes a ‘real man’?” he wondered aloud. Surely it wasn’t really something so inane as what clothes a man might wear. He, for example, was about as manly a man as they came — he was powerful, intelligent, skilled in combat, exceedingly good-looking — and yet he wore tunics while attending to political affairs or missions and Luigi’s oversized shirts at night, all dresses in all but name.

Yes, he knew well the typical fashion norms and how they differed between men, women, and those who lay in another plane of identity altogether, but never had he heard of such controversy in response to those norms being altered.

Luigi, his beautiful and equally manly Luigi, shrugged in response. “Someone more… rugged, I guess? Definitely not someone who wears a dress. And real simple clothes aren't enough either, oh no. Gotta be macho, hot-headed, tough, athletic, ready to throw down at the drop of a hat…”

“...perhaps with unkempt hair, lighter overalls, a red shirt, maybe?” Peasley guessed, half-joking. And to his delight, that got another laugh out of Luigi, a much lighter, heartfelt laugh. 

“Oh, no,” he said, “even Mario wasn’t man enough half the time!”

“Really? But he fits your description perfectly!”

“Yeah, but he had one liiiiiitle tiny problem: he supported me.” Luigi’s smile diminished again, not into a full frown, but his eyes seemed distant, wistful. “He was the only one I could really be comfortable around, you know? He hates shopping, but he’d always take me to the mall during sales because he knew I didn’t have the nerve to go without him. Sometimes he’d buy whatever I bought in his size and wear it out with me, and then he’d act like a goof so everyone stared at him and not me. Those were the only times I ever got to feel… well, good about wearing girly clothes.”

A feeling like warm nostalgia creeped into Peasley’s chest. Yes, he could picture it well: a shorter, smoother-faced Luigi, in the light fashions of city youth, perhaps a simple skirt and blouse. His matching elder twin, striding alongside him with twice the confidence and none of the elegance, going out of his way to make his gait as clumsy as possible with the biggest smile on his face.

Luigi smiling too, a younger and shyer smile, a boy becoming comfortable in his own skin, in the clothes he felt suited him best.

How could anyone envision such a sight, much less witness it for themselves, and not be besotted? How could anyone see that and mock him?

Peasley’s left hand moved to his opposite side, and he realized with a start that he was instinctively going for his rapier. But his rapier was back at the castle, and the threats which his beloved recounted were all in the past, unchallengeable, unchangeable. Something about that thought left a bitter taste in his throat.

“But I… still got the worst of it,” Luigi continued, and a heavy emotion like woe dimmed his features. “Mario, no one really cared what he did. He was a normal kid where I wasn’t involved. But me? No, I had enough going against me! You take a boy that likes other boys and wearing dresses, and you get…” He cleared his throat. “You get Mario getting grounded a lot. I think he’d beat up like, six different kids by the time we got out of high school?”

The bitterness in Peasley’s throat eased, and he washed the last of it away with a swig of his chuckoccino. He would have to give his gratitude to the elder brother next they met. He hoped little had remained of those vile perpetrators when he was done with them.

Luigi sighed heavily, leaning his cheek into his free hand. “Sooooo… yeah. Wearing dresses still scares me I guess. It shouldn’t, not anymore, I know that, but…”

But you’ve been scared your whole life, haven’t you?

An ache resonated deeply within Peasley, a hurt the likes he hadn’t felt since his favorite character’s untimely death in Days of Our Limas. 

“Oh, my love…” He finally gave in; he couldn’t help reaching forward to stroke Luigi’s face where his hand didn’t obscure it, and the ache lifted slightly when Luigi relaxed against his touch. His sad eyes grew warm, and Peasley could feel the blood rising beneath his skin. So warm, and so responsive… “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to bring up such distressing memories.”

Luigi lifted his head, just enough so that Peasley could cup his cheek. He graced Peasley with a smile so gentle and trusting and grateful that Peasley was sure he could drop dead on the spot from the crushing weight of affection alone.

“Honestly? It felt kinda nice to talk about it. Finally off my chest, you know?” Luigi’s right hand pressed Peasley’s palm deeper against his skin, and for a moment, he said nothing else. But his gaze caught some grounded nothing, and the corners of his mustache twitched, and was he blushing? Yes, he was absolutely blushing, a gorgeous scarlet growing in intensity against Peasley’s touch. “Kinda makes me wanna, um, t-try again,” he finally found the nerve to say, quietly, but steadily.

Peasley, sagacious as he was, knew that this was his cue. Oh, his brave darling! He would gladly meet such bravery halfway.

“Then— then will you accompany me to that boutique across the street?” His eyes flickered briefly to their conjoined hands as he laced their fingers together once more, his right and Luigi’s left. This whole time, in one form or another, they’d remained connected. Truly like lock and key. “Will you choose a lovely gown and wear it for me, my dear?”

That luminescent shade of red burned hotter still, and as much as Peasley normally enjoyed such a sight, he considered backing down this time, truly considered it. But Luigi nodded, pulling Peasley’s hand towards himself. “As you wish,” he said, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Peasley could feel his lips curl into the smallest of grins. “Mio principe.”

~~~

It took a week, several trips to a handful of the kingdom’s finest shops, and many hours of compliments and sugary-sweet assurances, but by the time the Edamame Extravaganza rolled around and two very important guests arrived at the palace, Luigi stepped out to greet his brother clad in gentle slopes of deep green and gold, a simple but elegant gown that only served to make the handsome prince that much lovelier still.

Mario’s first reaction was shock, followed by what Peasley could best assign as glee. The words the twins exchanged in their native tongue flew by too quickly for him to catch anything of substance (he was, though he would never admit it, a bit slow in learning the language), but the gestures and laughter and the way Mario clapped as Luigi twirled to demonstrate the gown’s billowing skirt told him everything he needed to know: the elder sibling’s taste wasn’t as benighted as he’d feared it might be.

But most importantly, Luigi, his Luigi, was beaming. He was no towering monolith of self-confidence, but he held his head a little higher, and he walked with a sort of grace Peasley hadn’t seen from him before, and the golden embellishments of his attire looked comparatively dull next to the sheer joy that radiated from his countenance.

How much more brightly would he beam tonight, Peasley wondered, when he revealed he’d purchased every single gown Luigi had tried on during their venture, all thirty-seven of them? Surely he would outshine the sun itself.

“You’re going to send him to the hospital,” Peach sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as they stepped away to let the brothers chat. “If he was worried about how expensive a single dress is…”

“I already assured him I wouldn’t do anything I couldn’t afford.”

“I’m surprised you could afford that.”

Peasley tapped his temple in response. “Pragmatism, dear,” he teased. The humble Mushroom Queen was above using her title and benevolent reputation to obtain favors from her citizens. Peasley was not.

Peach shook her head and sighed again, but she couldn’t disguise the fond grin that found its way onto her face.

Turning to watch the brothers once more, Peasley followed suit.

Luigi was the rare sort who possessed no unflattering angles; he looked just as good in a gown as he did in overalls as he did in nothing at all. But he was most beautiful, Peasley decided, when he was unabashedly himself, when he lost sight of the eyes that followed him and simply let himself be, with no pretense  — in those rare instances, he could finally see himself the way Peasley saw him.

Showering him in fine clothing and helping him overcome an old emotional wound wouldn’t miraculously dissolve all of his insecurities. But if it helped even the slightest bit, then that was worth all the gold in the world.

[akaridream]

after dark pt. 2: rooftop (hawks x reader)

tags: hawks x reader

cw: cursing, hawks is a flirt, afab reader, mentions of drugs/alcohol, smut in later chapters

taglist: @inkthgoat ​ @pnsduck @mysideeffectsofyou

masterlist

You nearly cried when you saw half a million yen in your bank account Saturday morning. You spent a few extra minutes in bed, grinning at the ceiling and thanking the kami for Hawks. You couldn’t help but think of the smile in his voice and the playful spark in his eye. I should thank him again, you thought. You reached for your phone just as a text came through.

Hawks: morning! the transfer should have gone through by now, lemme know if you got it

You: Yes, I got it. Thank you again, the amount is extremely generous for three weeks. I hope my work lives up to it

Hawks: i’m sure you’ll be worth it :) so for monday, i was thinking we should meet up near the psc hq with enough time for you to give me a quick crash course on taking photos for evidence. I’ve got an ear piece for you too, so we can be in constant contact while we’re spread out

You: Yeah we can do that. Do you have a DSLR?

Hawks: lol what is that

You: Are you serious

Hawks: nah haha its the 21st century, i know what a digital camera is :D i don’t have one though

You: omg good grief Hawks

You: Most cell phones can take pretty good pics these days, so I’m sure yours will be fine. Or I can teach you how to work the SLR and I’ll use my phone since I know what I’m doing

Hawks: ooo I kNoW wHaT i’M dOinG

You: Wow, the attitude. I could always just take your money and run

Hawks: could you tho? i bet i could track you down

You: I could go off the grid and you’d never find me

Hawks: eh, you’d get bored and lonely. plus i have my ways

You: Maybe bored, but I doubt I’d get lonely. Snowy owls are solitary

Hawks: not always ;)

You couldn’t help but blush. His cheeky banter made you wonder how he could be so comfortable with someone he just met. You crafted, then deleted, then rewrote, then deleted your reply again, trying to find the line between professional and playful. He was right, after all, and spring was on its way.

You: I should have known you were going to be a handful, Hero.

Hawks: ;) ;) ;)

You rolled your eyes and blushed again. Goofball, you thought. You just might reciprocate the flirting, once your work was done.

You: Text me when you have something important to talk about, Bird Brain

Hawks: aw c’mon, i’m just teasing ya

Hawks: how does 3:30p monday at the family mart a block east of the psc sound? we can grab some snacks, hang out on the rooftop and take some practice shots

You: No offense, but you kind of attract attention, so going anywhere in public in the light of day with you is going to be a no for me. Nighttime shooting is more involved than shooting in full daylight, that’s when I think we’ll need to practice. How about tomorrow after sundown?

Hawks: you just can’t wait to see me, huh?

Hawks: but yeah, I can make that work. same place, 8p tomorrow. and i’ll grab snacks beforehand, all by my lonesome :’( what kinda stuff you like?

You: Sounds good to me. Nothing spicy. Other than that I’m really not picky. Something salty and something sweet I guess

Hawks: no spice? bummer

Hawks: i’ll hook you up tho. see you then!

You felt childish sitting on the roof with your feet overhanging the side of the stories-high building downtown Fukuoka. The busy street below bustled with life, but no crimson feathers to speak of yet. Your stomach was convinced you were on a roller coaster, slowing ticking up and up and up towards the crest of a great drop. No professional dealings had ever gotten you in knots like this.

What if I’m a bad teacher? What if he’s a total moron and doesn’t understand anything I say? What if I trip over my words? What if I forget something super important and his photos turn out horrible? What if he forgets to take off the lens cap?

Your anxiety and the bracing breeze sent a chill through you. You pulled your thumb sleeves tighter over your knuckles. Cold weather was your comfort zone, but something in the air felt… Different.

You pulled your camera bag onto your lap and fiddled with the settings. The night cityscape from the top of the building made for a nice shot, and it might ease your nerves to practice what you wanted to say in your mind before Hawks arrived. You stood, knelt, leaned, trying to get the composition just right when you sensed a presence behind you.

“Ayo! Getting started without me?”

“Geez, tell the entire neighborhood we’re up here!” you griped, turning off your camera.

Hawks laughed, took off his flight goggles and slid his headphones off to hang around his neck. “Not like we’re doing anything nefarious up here anyway! How ya been?” he asked, sitting down to lean against the half wall ledge next to you, konbini bag in tow.

“Fine, just getting a couple shots of the skyline,” you said before stowing your camera. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know. Same old stuff, chasing cliche thieves and villains. Come check out what I got for ya. Whatever you don’t like I’ll be happy to eat. Cool jacket by the way. Custom made?”

“Oh, this?” you gestured. “I modified it myself actually. All I did was take some cheap track jacket, cut a hole in the back and surged the edges. Well, and I dyed it black.”

“Let me see the back,” he asked, gesturing for you to turn around. You turned shyly, spreading your wings out to compliment the work you’d done. Hawks smirked, impressed. “Very nice. You sew then?”

You tucked your wings back in and sat next to Hawks. “I like to make or modify stuff for my wings at least. Tailors are expensive, plus sometimes I get the itch to do creative stuff.”

“That’s really cool. I may have to commission you for some of my ideas!” he said, pulling out a veritable buffet of konbini goodies. You chuckled.

“Geez, are we expecting guests?” You grabbed a pack of umaibo, one of your favorite crunchy snacks.

“Nah, I’m just a growing boy! Hero work burns a lot of calories, and I haven’t had a break since lunch!” he said as he tore into a famous Famichiki. He offered a second to you. “Saw these right next to the register and couldn’t pass ‘em up. Something about konbini fried chicken warms the soul, ya know?”

You took it, smiling. “These remind me of middle school.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “How so?”

“There was a Family Mart between school and home, I used to grab them all the time,” you said. “Glad you don’t mind being a cannibal.”

He laughed. “Right? People call me that all the time! We can’t help that we’re birds of prey!” His laughter warmed you. Or was it the hot food?

“I always wonder what school was like,” Hawks continued. “I was home schooled. Well, sort of. I never went to regular school at least.”

“You didn’t go to UA?” you asked. “I thought that was pretty much a requirement for pro heroes.”

He shook his head. “Nope, not for me at least. I might have liked to go there, but…” He looked into the distance. “Growing up wasn’t the best for me.”

You tilted your head and looked at him. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugged and sighed. “Eh, s’just how it is. Things are good now. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about stuff like where meals are gonna come from anymore, you know?”

You frowned. “Damn, it was that bad? I hate that.”

He polished off his chicken and stole some umaibo from your open bag. “Yeah, it was shitty but it didn’t last forever. But enough about me anyway. What’s your family like?”

“Mom was pretty quiet and Dad was super busy, so pretty typical family, I guess. Although I do have a twin brother.”

“Ooh, that’s cool. Where do they all live?”

“Up in Hokkaido,” you said, stealing back your umaibo.

“Damn, that’s far. Anywhere near Sapporo?”

“Mom’s near Date where I grew up, a couple hours southeast of Sapporo. Don’t really know where my dad is these days, and my brother’s way out in the middle of nowhere. He hates the city even more than me.”

“You hate the city?” he asked, leaning towards you.

You nodded. “Too much going on. The noise, the lights, the swarms of people… It’s a lot. My hometown was pretty quiet but there was no opportunity for work there. Sapporo would have been alright probably but… I just wanted a big change I guess, so I picked Fukuoka. So here I am, just trying to cope with my quirk.”

You surprised yourself with how much you said, chalking it up to Hawks’ comforting presence and being a good listener.

“Crazy that you moved across the whole country. Does your brother have a similar quirk?”

“Yep, almost exactly the same. His wings are pretty much pure white, almost no speckles like I have.”

“Ah, interesting,” he said. “You guys close?”

You gave a cynical chuckle. “Definitely not. I’m not really close with anyone.”

He tilted his head. “Not with anyone? Really?”

You shrugged, trying to avoid his eyes.

“No best friend?” he asked.

“When I was in school. But not anymore.”

“No boyfriend?” he asked incredulously.

You laughed darkly. “No, definitely not.”

Hawks furrowed his brow but smiled playfully. “You mean you’re not a total ball-busting heart-breaker?”

You snorted. “Hell no. Try chronically single.”

He chuckled. “I may be high on the public approval charts, but I’m afraid I suffer that fate too.” He tossed you some Winter Melty Pocky. “My excuse is that I’m always too busy, but I wouldn’t mind making time for someone special. Maybe someday when things settle down and villains don’t run the streets some angel will sweep me off my wings.” He had a wistful look in his eyes as he tore through another snack.

“Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t mind that either,” you said.

Your mind drifted back to your middle school days as you opened the Pocky. Your first kiss had been stolen by a rambunctious boy in your class who was dared to play the Pocky game. The popular girls turned him down, but you, not knowing the true intention of the game, waited patiently with the biscuit in your mouth. As his lips crashed against yours, you were confused, not lovestruck as you wanted your first kiss to be. The only kiss since then was a brief make out session at the only college party you ever attended. He tasted of cheap beer and tobacco, a combination that still makes your stomach turn. You never spoke again once winter break arrived, but at least the occasion was consensual.

As you munched on the bitter chocolate, you wondered what Hawks might taste like. You caught yourself and squeezed your eyes shut. Am I insane? I just met this guy two days ago!

“So, the other day you said you don’t trust heroes. Any particular reason why?” Hawks asked.

Your face grew tense. “A few. The hero market is pretty over-saturated these days.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, that might be true. But how does that affect your trust in them?”

You crossed your arms. “I’m not convinced there’s enough crime to go around. I think a lot of them probably take care of a couple high-publicity jobs and go home after an hour’s work.”

Hawks eyed you. “Have you looked at crime statistics recently?”

“Not since college.”

“You might be surprised at them. I’m not trying to say you’re wrong, but crime rates have changed a lot with quirks getting more common.”

“Yeah, and while quirks are a fine explanation for the crime increase and the overabundance of heroes, I’d rather it be police stopping crime. Doing it for the notoriety defeats a lot of the purpose in my eyes.”

“What’s the difference though?” Hawks asked, turning towards you. “Isn’t it good that crime gets stopped, period?”

You shook your head. “Doing something good just because you know people are watching? Seems a little hollow. To me, it’s more about integrity. Heroes should work behind the scenes more and focus on doing the right things when no one is looking.”

He nodded. “I completely agree. So how do you know they aren’t already doing that if all you see are their TV appearances?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but once you met Hawks’ golden eyes, your words died in your throat. Damn, you thought. He’s exactly right. He seemed to know it too, but he didn’t boast. He only continued to search your eyes, his lips upturned in a soft smile.

“So, what do I need to know for your camera?” Hawks asked as he opened a bag of spicy chips.

“First thing, you had better not get any of that spicy dust on it, or I’ll toss you off the roof,” you quipped. You might not mind a touch of spice, if it came from his lips.

“Your threat would be scarier if I couldn’t fly,” he said, attempting to steal one of your Pocky sticks. You swatted the back of his hand playfully.

“Uh-uh, if you wanted some Pocky you should have gotten two, bird brain,” you said, pulling out a stick and waving it to tempt him. “These are my favorite.”

Hawks pouted. “Aw, but spicy chocolate is so good!”

You briefly thought of putting the biscuit between your teeth to tease him with it, just like the old Pocky game, but you could never work up the nerve to be so bold. Instead, you held the stick in front of his mouth and rolled your eyes.

“Geez, if you’re gonna whine about it.”

“You sure?” he asked, holding your eye contact. You rested the Pocky against his lips. He smiled and gently bit the biscuit in half, then chased it with a spicy chip, then ate the other half of the Pocky. He hummed in delight as he licked the flavored dust off his fingers. You scrunched up your nose.

“That is so gross,” you said, laughing.

“Mm, the chocolate on those is even better than the regular ones! Definitely a good combo. You sure you don’t wanna give it a try?”

“Absolutely not, especially after you just licked your fingers!”

He gave a menacing smile and extracted a chip from the bag, loaded with spicy dust. “Come on now, just one won’t kill you.”

“Ugh, no way!” You pushed his arm away, giggling. He easily overpowered you and brought the chip dangerously close to your face. “That smells like fire, oh my gosh Hawks!”

You playfully shoved at each other, laughing as you tried to get the diabolical chip as far away as possible. Hawks feigned weakness and you grabbed his wrist, aiming the chip back towards his mouth. He chomped it, then lunged for you Pocky, snatching it out of your hand.

“You cheater!” you squealed, grabbing his other wrist and struggling with him for control.

“Ah! Damn girl, you’ve got some sharp claws!”

You looked at your hands, noticing your naturally black nails digging into his skin. You released him, suddenly guilty over the half moon marks left in his flesh.

“Oh, geez, sorry!” you yelped. Hawks just smiled and took out a piece of Pocky.

“No worries, I’m tough. I can handle a battle scar or two,” he said, holding the Pocky to your lips. “See, didn’t even break the skin.”

You took the Pocky with your teeth and turned away, cheeks warm. “Maybe I should have for stealing my treat.”

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you to share?” he asked with a gentle elbow to your side.

“They taught me to fend for myself! Now are we gonna goof off all night or we gonna get down to business? We do have work to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just like making you laugh.” His smile made his eyes wrinkle. Your heart stuttered and you couldn’t help but smile too. He’s so pretty…

“Oh, but speaking of work, here’s the ear piece.” He pulled a device from his pocket and handed it to you. “Connect it to your phone and tomorrow while we’re on surveillance, we can talk to each other.”

You examined the compact device. “And what if I get sick of hearing you?”

He grinned and shrugged. “You can always turn down the volume and see how long it takes me to notice you aren’t listening.”

You laughed. “Alright, sounds good. Now, let’s get started with some camera stuff. Do you know what aperture is?”

Hawks pretended to rack his brain. “Hm, that company from the Portal games?”

“We’re gonna be here all night, aren’t we?”

He shrugged. “Only if you want to.”

next (part 3)

[lunarswritings]

Inaccurate Random Tears of Themis Headcannons

I litterally don’t know what to write so if u wanna send an idea go for it, if you already sent one I didn’t get it so send it again! If u wanna use these headcannons for whatever just go for it

Warnings: small mentions of death and maybe ooc idk what I’m doing at this point, maybe angst?? Didn’t proof read as much as I should oops

————————

During the 8 years Luke was gone. While Luke would go to the grocery store and go to the candy isle and look at the candy and chips him and Rosa used to eat

Sometimes he would buy Rosa’s favorite candy when he’s feelin a little emotional :(

When Luke was free sometimes he would look at Rosa’s social media to check up on her and even search her up and look at the cases she’s taken

Okay little theory here but I feel like Luke knows the whereabouts of Rosa’s parents since he worked for the government and has A+ searching skills

What if they’re dead and he doesn’t want to tell Rosa omg

Okokok off topic anyway

He checks up on em (if they’re alive) and makes sure they’re ok bc yk family whooo

I don’t think it’s been canon on when Artem fell in love with Rosa but I think it would be super cute if he had a small lil crush before chapter 1

He probably didn’t know it was a crush and thought of it as admiration?

I bet he tried to start a small conversation with her and tried to give her a small compliment of her work and talk about something related to work because that’s totally relatable??

Poor Rosa did not get the message but she still admired him!!

Yk in that sr date Artem said he got a matching set of all his kitchen utensils

If he broke any of them or they worn out somehow I bet he bought the same set and has duplicates of everything just so he could replace that one tool so he has a small box for them

Artem would read the about page of every recipe because he thinks it’s important and is afraid he’ll miss something, even if it’s just a simple history of said meal he’s not taking any risks

As soon as Artem heard what Rosa’s favorite dish is, he searched up a recipe and kept making it until it was PERFECT, down to the seasoning

Bonus points if he knows your spice level

Ok so Idk what canon language Stellis has, maybe Stellis has its own language or maybe it’s Chinese or whatever dub y’all picked

But I feel like when Vyn first was learning the Stellis language he would use formal instead of causal for everything

Yk when ur taking your second language classes and there’s an informal and formal version for addressing people or yourself and other words

or maybe it depends on the language idk

As Vyn was learning the Stellis language he would almost never use informal words when he first learned it since he had his royal image and never used casual terms

I bet people thought his accent was either funny or cute but not in a bad way

Eventually he got better

But he gets really happy when a book he wants has it in the Svart language since he can read the book faster

Movies with Svart subtitles? He’s watching it

He probably takes longer to read documents in Stellis’s language but not like really long

“Wow he’s really taking up all the words and thoroughly checking!”

No he’s just trying to read the poor document

His speed improves tho dw

Vyn used to get a little bit self conscious since he stuck out a lot with his silver hair and he was a foreigner but he stopped thinking about it after a few months

Plus the fan club of Vyn maybe helped in some way?

If Vyn has a small idea of Rosa’s schedule or favorite places sometimes when he’s free he’ll visit or try to go to routes that match Rosa’s schedule

It’s like a “I’ll take a different hallway so I can see my crush for a few seconds” during school

There’s a 50% chance Giann did a “we’re going to Disneyland!” Prank where he’d wake child Marius at 4am to pack his bags and then tell him it was a lie

Marius def cried and went to his dad at like 4 am

Marius gives Disney kid vibes and he definetly loved Tangled

He loved Eugene

Omg what if Rosa and Marius did a rapunzel and Flynn rider costume for Halloween for funsies

Oh my god it’s perfect.

When Marius was in high school I bet at least once he got locked in the art room since he was glued in the art room and the teacher had to kick him out , imagine he couldn’t see him one time and he got locked in

He probably either

A: panicked and called his dad

B: texted his dad and fell asleep in there

Marius likes pineapple on his pizza idk why

Maybe he likes the idea of annoying people who hate it I suppose

Marius found out Rosa’s favorite lipstick/gloss shade and got the makeup department of PAX to make it so Rosa could get a PAX lipstick and for free

“It’s like you’re carrying a piece of me with you!”

Speaking of PAX

I wonder if Marius gives Rosa discounts

If she asked he’d do it anyway

Marius sometimes searches up Rosa online to see anything the news says about her

Maybe when they’re dating he double checks to see if there’s any article catching on their relationship

OH MY GOD

You know those edits people make of celebrities

What if people made edits of Rosa and Marius when their relationship was public

That’s so funny to think about

Marius would def look through that and look at the comments

Would def have beef with whatever news company said something bad about her

Rosa used to have a romance novel phase

Maybe in like middle school or high school since as a lawyer she doesn’t have time or think about romance

Until like a while after tho

Def would fangirl about them to Luke and get him to read said novel (which he did obviously)

She recites every piece of evidence before a trial and has planned out every possible response to anything the prosecution say the night before

sometimes teaches Vyn slang in Stellis language bc she finds it funny as Vyn contemplates the meaning of them

[morallyinept]

i am a fic writer, and admittedly I don’t read others works as much as I probably should because any free time I have is usually spent writing if not one of my other hobbies. i do try though. but you both write AND read a colossal amount, how?! how do you consistently write so much? you publish so many fics and I cannot wrap my head around it. what’s your process and what keeps you motivated? i’ve been struggling with motivation for a number of reasons lately and one of them is because of sort of feeling like a waste of space here on tumblr. I have friends and readers and moots that I’m grateful for but…I don’t know. i wish my blog was more like yours sometimes. i feel like i post and then I’m just a ghost and people forget i’m here.

Hey Non! 🖤

The short answer is, I have no life 😝 Kidding, I'm just super organised, I think. But there are some other factors...

I'm a pretty fast reader, (I was a freelance proofreader for a while) so I can read pretty quickly, and I utilise my lunch breaks at work, or the downtime before bed to read too. Chronic insomnia also helps! 🥴

I'm big list lover (as you might've seen) and I really utilise my likes to bookmark stuff I want to come back to and add to the Fic Rec List. I try to update it weekly (or bi-weekly if I'm busy) so things don't get lost in my likes. I also use my rec list as my own way of tracking what I want to read in future/have already read. I then try to reblog it once I've read it (something I'm trying to be better at, admittedly).

With regards to writing, a lot of my stuff is written in advance, so stuff I post is queued up from weeks/months ago when I wrote it, except things I write on a whim when an idea comes and I wanna post it quicker. I write a bunch of GIFLETS usually in a day, for example, as they're pretty short and will give me weeks of fics to post.

Writing is my passion, so I write a lot. I've been writing since I could write my own name pretty much.

I joke about having no life, but lately I've had additional free time due to having a back injury, (I'm ok!) so I've been resting and able to write more than I usually would, so I'm taking full advantage of that too with forward planning. That will slow down considerably though when I go back to work in a few weeks.

I utilise my free time, and writing is my main hobby, alongside doodling. I do make time for other things though. I don't spend 100% of my free time constantly writing. Again, it comes down to organisation, I write notes (a heck of a lot of notes!) and keep WIPs in order etc...

Scheduling/queuing posts is something I do a lot too, so it proabably looks like I'm always online posting and reading, but I'm actually not. It's all stuff I've queued up ready to go and can forget about.

I probably spend around 1-2 hours a day updating my queue, designing banners/posts etc... and then responding to comments/re-blogs, ASKs etc... and that's not all at the same time, it'll be spread out throughout the day too. Some days more than others, and other days not at all.

Same with writing, I'll spend time doing it daily or dedicate a sole day at the weekend if I have no plans, and limit myself too so I don't burn out or forget about other things, like adulting. (I should probably mention I'm single and live by myself, so I have plenty of time to do my own things without worrying about spending time with a partner or anything. I do make time to see my friends and family regularly though.)

What keeps me motivated? Well, you guys, for one. Readers and interaction. Music. Pedro, of course, and my own thoughts (thots). But being organised really helps me so I don't burn out.

But I just wanna mention that I too, struggle with motivation. I've had writer's block a few times lately and have often considered my own place here too at times. And you're not a waste of space, I can assure you. Everybody brings something different to this fandom, I think. And that's a good thing. Variety is the spice of life, afterall. ✨️

Primarily, writing for your own enjoyment should come first. I know that's easy for me to say, but I honestly don't give a damn about the number of notes my posts get, I much prefer the engagement personally.

I write for me, because I enjoy it. But I get that everyone's reasons are different, and I know it can feel disappointing and leave you pondering "why bother?" When you don't necessarily get the engagement you hope for.

I guess it stems also a little to that old saying you get out what you put in. On outward appearance, it seems like I put in a hell of a lot, 😅 but it really comes down to me just being a little regimented and utilising my time as best as I can, I guess.

I could wake up one morning in the future and decide I don't want to do this anymore, so I'm enjoying doing it for now. Plus, I suppose the more followers and engagement you have, the more it could become difficult to stay on top of that too... I guess it's a balancing act to some degree.

I think it's important not to compare yourself though. Everyone has their own lives outside of Tumblr, and some may not be able to post as much as they want to, and that's perfectly okay. Being here isn't a race. You're not on a deadline, so don't put unncessary pressure on yourself.

Your own blog/corner of the internet is yours and unique to you. Be proud of what you've made it into. 🥰

Hoo boy, I rambled on a bit! 🫣 Oops! But I hope that answers your questions, lovely.

Love you! 🖤

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eighteen

Back in Clontarf, I perch at the gleaming, marble island while Jude prepares dinner. I watch him doing it with undisguised interest, because he cooks the way that I imagine he makes art, fully absorbed, with precision and confidence, and completely and utterly in the flow of his own enjoyment. He connects his iPhone to a Bluetooth speaker and plays music for a while, until Ivy bursts in and complains that she can’t focus on her homework with all of the noise.

He switches it off for her, but even in the silence he moves around to the beat of the music in his head, with a smile on his face that only endures the more stupid questions I ask him about what he’s doing. He’s making a spice mix in a pestle and mortar, he’s coating the fillets in flour, that’s actually rose water, not vanilla, yes, he taught himself how to do this, those flowers are actually totally edible, they’re not just there to look good, so a shallot is actually stronger than an onion, that’s why he’s using it. He prepared a lot of it earlier, marinating fresh fish in harissa for hours, and par boiling the potatoes so that they’d be oven ready by the time we got home from visiting Jen, and when I ask him where he found the time to do all of this he explains that he was simply procrastinating, because he doesn’t want to write his thesis. 

We eat at the dining table with Ivy, who shovels the food into her mouth in the span of about five minutes despite her complaints about it tasting bad, and gives a series of very bored, one word answers to his questions about school in between mouthfuls. He reminds her that she should practise for her piano lesson tomorrow and tells her that he can’t collect her from afterschool hockey so she’ll have to get the bus. It occurs to me that this is perhaps the most un-sibling like relationship I’ve ever witnessed. Perhaps it’s a symptom of their age gap. 

“Where’re your parents tonight?” I query once Ivy rushes off to her bedroom to reconvene whatever teen girl things were interrupted by dinner, and he looks down at his plate. “Working late again.”

“Seems like they really like to work.”

“They sure do. Or they really like not having to be in this house.”

He’s said things like this to me before, these kind of vaguely troubling statements about his parents in very casual, matter of fact ways, as though they’re entirely absent and have no love for each other whatsoever, and this is something he finds normal. I’ve never asked him about it before, and something I’ve never quite been able to handle the idea of broaching, but now, since we’re… kind of, sort of going out with each other it suddenly feels important to know whether his expectations for his own relationships are different to his parents’ strange marriage.  

“What is it about them?”

“We don’t have to discuss these grim things about my family, it’s alright.”

“We don’t have to, but I think I’d like to know about it.”

He pushes his food thoughtfully around his plate. “They just shouldn’t have gotten married, I suppose. I think they meant well initially but it’s ultimately done more damage than good.” He glances towards the closed door and up towards the ceiling, where his sister is, and lowers his voice a little bit. “I think they’ll probably get a divorce as soon as Ivy finishes school.”

“Oh.”

“I’m the reason they’re married, and she’s the reason they’re still together. They had this amazing idea at one point that having another child would solve all of their issues, but now they’ve just trapped themselves in a bind for an extra nine years. They could be blissfully divorced by now, but they won’t do it until she’s moved out, because they don’t want to disrupt her schooling.” 

“How old were they when you were born?”

“Nineteen and twenty one.” 

“Oh, God.”

“Yep, big mistake. Whoops.” he tosses a chunk of potato into his mouth and leans back in his chair. “Mom finished school and went to stay with her aunt in America, took up a job at a department store in Albuquerque, hooked up with a med student at a bar on her first month there, and well…” He throws up his hands in mock celebration. “Here I am!”

“I suppose that being unmarried with a child wasn’t really an option for your mother at the time.” 

“No, not at all, I mean, she had come from catholic Ireland. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to live at home again unless she married the man from that bar.” The way he speaks about his father is strange, as though despite his presence in their lives, he’s still some random, nameless med student from San Bernardino. 

“And then what?” 

“Well, then my dad continued school, and my mom began her studies and my great aunt took care of me on and off until my dad got his doctorate degree. Then they had Ivy, on purpose, by the way, and when she was a baby we moved back here.” He shrugs. “That’s all.”

I breathe out a laugh. “You’re so cagey.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah it’s like you don’t want to talk about them, or your home life, like, ever.”

He doesn’t look like he’s all that bothered by my interrogation, he just gives me this self-effacing little smile. “Come on, Evie. It’s because this stuff is boring.” 

“I don’t think it’s boring at all.” 

“Well, okay. They didn’t want to be together, they shouldn’t have had kids, and they act like they never did because they barely parented either one of us. Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at letting things drop?”

“Yeah, loads. Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at talking about serious things?”

“Of course.” The corner of his mouth quirks up and he lifts my arm from the table to kiss the inner part of my wrist. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?”

“Yes, you. Tell me what it was like for you when you were growing up.” 

“I’ve told you loads about my childhood already though.” 

“Yeah, you have, and I loved hearing about how badly behaved you were and what it felt like to live in America, but I wish you’d get into the guts of it, the real stuff.”

“The real stuff?”

“The stuff that makes you so clearly sad. You get that look on your face whenever it comes up.”

He hasn’t let go of my wrist, and now his thumb is gently stroking the skin that he kissed a moment before while he stares out into the garden through streak-free glass patio doors, and he chews on his lip before deciding to speak. “Well, when Ivy was born I stopped being a kid, I suppose. My parents didn’t have a lot of interest in caring for either of us, and I was lucky, because my great aunt in Albuquerque did all of that for them when I was little, but when we moved here the support system really fell away. Nobody had considered that. We have my mom’s parents, but they’re about as warm as she is, and even though we’d be dumped over to theirs at the weekends, it wasn’t like we had especially fun or memorable times. Usually we’d get some bucket of crap toys from the seventies and whatever was on the three TV channels that they had. They were okay, but Ivy was a really nervous toddler. She didn’t like being around unfamiliar people, to the point that our grandmother would have to roll her bottles down the hallway to where she was hiding at the bottom of the stairs so that she’d drink anything at all. She just screamed whenever either of our grandparents came near her. It just wasn’t working out, so we eventually stopped having to go, and by then, when I was like eleven, it just made sense that I’d look after her instead.”

“What did that involve?”

“Everything. Feeding her, dressing her, putting her to bed, shopping for food, toys, eventually bringing her to the creche. She used to go to the childminders while I was at school, but only until I finished at three or four o’clock, and then I’d swing by and get her. A child collecting another child, like, I don’t know if they’d let that kind of thing happen anymore, but it was a small family run childminders, the kind of lawless place where they have this one old granny looking after about twelve children in her house and everything and anything goes. My mom used to come home and cook dinner for a while, but she was delighted when I got old enough to do that for her too. It meant she could stay out of the house for longer and do whatever she used to do. Have affairs or whatever.” He huffs out a laugh. “I mean, I really don’t know if that was ever the case but I wouldn’t be that surprised. Everything got really confined because of Ivy, you know? I always had to be home, and helping, and collecting and living my life on this schedule while all the other teenagers were just being blissfully selfish and… just teenagers.”

“But you had time to yourself, surely?”

“Yeah, at night when my parents were finally home from work, but I mean, yeah, it wasn’t about not having time to do hobbies or hang out with my friends, it was about having to do it at all. It was about having to consider those things. Nobody should have to parent their siblings, it was really stifling and really unfair. If my parents wanted another child then they should have been prepared to take care of her. You can’t just offload that responsibility onto the older child. I resented it, and I still do.”

I spear my fingers into the side of his hair and run my hand down the back of his head. “That’s why you went to Berlin.” 

“I just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have ever had to.”

“Right.” He hesitates and his teeth rake over his lower lip, pulling the skin until it’s taut and white. “I just feel like going to Berlin was the most selfish thing I could have possibly done though.”

“No way.” I say. “It forced your parents to do what they should have been doing all along, and look after your sister.” 

“Yeah but it didn’t really do that. I look at Ivy now, and she’s doing a lot of those things I used to do for her all on her own. My parents never stepped up like I hoped they would, so she’s just becoming another teenager with too many responsibilities, and parents that will divorce as soon as they can and leave her without a solid base to come home to when she’s in college. And then, you know, on the other hand I think about Jen, and how bad everything has become for her and I know that if I’d stayed, and if I’d been here for her then maybe I could have-”

“It’s no use thinking that, Jude. You had to be on your own for once. You can’t hold up the whole world on your shoulders.”

“I’m selfish.” His voice is acidic, and the moment I feel his fingers loosen on me I grab a hold of his sleeve, because all of a sudden it feels vitally important to keep a connection between us.

“You didn’t get a proper childhood. I’d be even more selfish if I were you. You need to be doing the things that you want to do, seeing the world, partying with your friends, all of that stuff that you’ve been doing for the last four years. It’s all food for your soul.” 

“You’re too forgiving of me. It’s okay to say that I’ve been generally inconsiderate.”

“You’re way too hard on yourself.” I say quietly. “And you know that’s not true. You’re a good person, and you were always so nice to me, even when I was quiet and shy. You made an effort to talk to me at that time that Jen invited me to that modern art exhibition in Dublin, and you made me feel so included and asked so many questions about me even though I felt so nervous around you both.”

“I feel like that’s the least anyone could have done.” He says sulkily, as though he doesn’t really feel like being talked out of his mood. “The more I dwell on it the more I think there is something seriously wrong with me. Something that should have been figured out a lot earlier, but like, here I am, a twenty two year old, in the final months of my final year at college and I feel a bit… I dunno, lost, or something. I’m floundering, and I don’t really know who I am anymore. I swore I had it figured out at eighteen but now that seems laughable to me.”

“Nobody tells you how weird it is to be in your twenties.” I declare. “They insist that it’s amazing and fun and you’ll have all of this independence, but actually it feels strange and vulnerable, and there’s no rule book about how to navigate your way through it. One day you’re a stupid teenager and the next you live on your own and you have to know how to use the city bus and remember the pin of a debit card.”

“Yeah.” 

“It’s alright that you find it hard, is all I’m saying, and I for one, feel like I truly knew nothing about being an adult. To be honest sometimes I get a bit freaked out by how lost I feel. But then I try not to think about it, and I just go on with my day.”

“That’s your advice?” He says, with the hint of a smile threatening to crack through the gloom. “Just don’t think about it?”

“Probably shouldn’t be, should it?”

“I think that’s terrible advice, Evie.”

“Well that’s all I have for you.”

He leans into me and lightly kisses my jaw before going back to his food, and the featherlight touch of his lips sends shivers right down to my toes. “Well I think we should think about hard things.” He says. “I think that ignoring them only gives them more power, actually.”

“Maybe some things aren’t meant to be processed now. They’re meant for later.”

“How much later?”

“I don’t know. Just later.” I push the last of my dinner onto my fork and into my mouth and try not to feel self-conscious about the fact that he’s watching me like I’m under a spotlight. 

“I just want you to know that if you ever wanted to talk to me about any of the things that happened you in first year then-”

My chair makes a hideous scraping noise against the parquet floor. “Do you have any pictures of you when you were small?” I say, wiping my hands on the thighs of my jeans, and he blinks. “Um. Why?”

“Just when we were talking about your childhood, like,” I stack his empty plate on top of mine. “I was wondering to myself what you might have looked like as a little boy. That’s all.”

“There are some, somewhere yeah. I can root them out if you want.”

“I’d love that, would you mind?” I hastily pack things away in the dishwasher, and I put the plates in crookedly, and I can’t find where the cutlery goes, and Jude is there, and he takes the forks out of my hands and gingerly places them into the sink. 

“It’s fine. Leave it.” He says. “Come into the living room, I’ll get the baby photos out.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[romanceclub-lovers]

Romance Club news recap...

The Desert Rose

Finally I can tell you about Nafisa.

She was inspired by the Moroccan poetess Saïda Menebhi.

Saïda taught English and was a member of the revolutionary Forward movement. She condemned the oppression of women and fought for the identity of the people.

Saïda died at 25: she went on a hunger strike and died in hospital.

Nafisa couldn't have a happy ending, unfortunately. And I couldn't see the scene in which she suddenly appears and goes to meet her daughter’s chosen ones.

When I wrote the scene, the same one that ended episode 5, I felt bad, very bad.

The first version didn’t make it into the story - I realized that it made me shake, I was disgusted. After rewriting a few things, I deleted the draft so as not to come across it again.

Throughout Season 1, we often remember Yasmin's mother. I wanted to show her throwing: she had not heard about her mother, it was taboo, but then Rabia opened this purulent wound, and the others stopped being afraid.

Chopin was mentioned several times in the Desert Rose. And always in the context of Kadir and his home. The great composer had a lover - George Sand - a writer who took a male pseudonym, a very brave woman, very charismatic.

Many poetesse were inspired by her. In my understanding, George Sand was also loved by Nafisa, mentally considering her as herself, and Kadir as Chopin.

The Chopin sounding in Kadir's house is his cry for his lost past and his missing wife. Yasmin's house is a continuous memory, Kadir's endless secret room.

Source: Amy. G telegram

Art credit: рина.

Kali: Flame of Samsara

Kamal Rai

💎 Prototype: Maluma

I’m sure that the first part of the fandom expected to see Ozcivit Burak (Bali Bey), and the second part Jason Momoa, but both options were missed😁

I quite by chance saw a long-haired bearded handsome man when I was looking for references for Kamal, and I realized that wow... it’s him ...

But... not everywhere🤔 in most photos, this artist does not really fit, but in the days of long hair and beard - this is it, or a younger version of Kamal, when he was younger and more mischievous (during those very years of the uprising, a bear without control😌 ).

I love the charisma and radiance that comes from the prototype reference when he smiles. I don’t know the artist, I hope he’s like that in life too😁

The image of a strong and brave warrior, but at the same time not the typical gloomy, cruel and withdrawn one, but self-confident, sociable and smiling, has been sitting in my head for a long time. Since the time of "Valkyrie" by M. Semenova, where Slavomir immediately became my favorite🙈 besides, I have a special affinity for thick mustaches and beards, all the stars really aligned here...

Despite all this, we also know that Kamal has had all sorts of rumors in the past: about his carelessness, thirst for battles and revenge. During the years of the uprising, he was one of the first who rushed into all the battles. Inside he is an ardent, willful and fearless man, but due to age he has gained patience and intelligence, because now he is responsible not only for himself, but also for his family. Any decisions he makes will affect the Rai family, and he needs to be a wise leader.

I think that he finds a special charm in Devi precisely because with her personality she reminds him of himself in the past, 17 years ago...⚔️

Ram Doobay

💎 Prototype: Liam Samuels

Another prototype you probably didn't expect. Working on the second Doobay as Li meant that I needed to come up with a character who would not be considered too similar to Amrit, but at the same time there should be a family relative connection between them, that same spice that only the Doobay's have.

Amrit has sharp facial features, so for working with Ram I chose exactly the opposite: the model taken as a prototype has soft and delicate facial features, full lips and a direct, but not provocative gaze. It was his gaze that caught my attention (this happens often), calm and even tired, but full of quiet confidence.

Ram doesn’t care what or who thinks about him, the man is perfectly aware of his position, and he finds attempts to "cock" in front of the dozen men ridiculous😒

He is tall and has the same slender and wiry body as the other men in his family. Ram also has two family characteristics: his eye color (green with yellow flecks) and his curly dark hair.

However, as a family brahmin, he was marked by the goddess and his left eye is gray in color. There is a parallel here with one of Basu’s family eye colors, it is also gray.

In the veins of the women from this family, as they like to say, there is a drop of the blood of Mahakali herself.

The gray eye is like a connecting link, thanks to which Ram doesn't need a guide ring (which is kept by the first heirs of the family: Raj and Amrit, for example).

But this same feature makes his life difficult: Ram sees things that an ordinary mortal shouldn't, faceless shadows and voices overcome him strongly especially when he's without a blindfold.

During rituals, services and just before going to bed, Ram removes the blindfold. Only he and Ratan know what the burden is for the younger heir of the Doobay's.

Ram sensitively and subtly senses the goddess, and Ratan, as a avatar with vast experience, helps to cope with the task.

Aleksandra Remy about Ram Doobay:

Despite his outward indifference and typical Doobay self-confidence, Ram can be very passionate and sensual.

He has a need for love, like everyone else, but due to loneliness (few people are able to understand him, and other people more often tire him than interest him) and disgust, Ram doesn't start thoughtless love affairs with other women and in general rarely pays attention to them attention.

He needs someone who will share with him his difficult existence and views, and also who can become an interesting interlocutor for him.

This sounds unlikely and even impossible, so Ram doesn’t really believe that he will meet someone like that, and he certainly doesn’t believe that this "someone" could be a wife forcibly selected for him.

Source: A. Remy telegram

[nachorong]

howdy! erin here🤠 with na chorong. i know i know, i have a plethora of ims to respond to, sorry about that! i’m putting jinri on a brief hold as i’m tweaking some stuff, but have my muse in the meantime. more about chorong below the cut. yk the usual: feel free to dm me @ myjinri for plots/like this post for me to come to you. discord is available upon request! (patience will be needed with me </3 i should still be out at the time of acceptance, but will get back to everything when i get home )

i’m going to keep the background brief until i fully type out her backstory bc i really don’t wanna have to read whatever i write again to make edits

it always seemed as if na chorong had it easy in life. an extremely supportive family backing her dreams, along with getting scouted to a big agency and meeting quick success with her tv and film debut. it all seemed like the easiest path was handed to her

the fact that she came from a struggling family and faced the numerous rejections before she struck gold with adagio often forgotten. or the unexplained break she took in acting

 growing up, she always loved performing skits in front of her family. she was often the center of attention with whatever production she had ready. this led to her joining drama clubs and participating in local plays put on around her.

scouted by adagio at a school play. auditioned and got in, trained for a while before she made a public appearance in a music video. her official television debut was a year after that, and her film debut was the following year after the tv debut.

she was rising in popularity but a sudden personal issue arose! and she couldn’t accept any scripts as she couldn’t fully commit to the long scheduling that came with filming anything.

still did work during that time, usually in things that required less time, such as appearing in magazines, walking the runway, or even just making an appearance at a fashion show.

finally made her return to acting and it was almost like she never left. quickly got back into the swing of things and started steadily building up her popularity again. now including more modeling gigs in her schedule, but acting was something she prioritized over anything else.

2021-2022 was the busiest timeframe in her life, filming projects back to back. thinks she’s done enough to not have to film for another two years at least. hasn’t filmed anything or picked up a new script since the glory because she needed a break badly.

so here she is now, in 2023 enjoying as much of her break as she can because who knows when the company will come knocking at her door with another project for her to look at.

 currently

loves her career but the recent string of projects she starred in back to back left her begging adagio for a hiatus. was not granted, but was met in the middle with another “unofficial hiatus” from acting. ( l o l let’s see if this lasts long )

focused on her brand deals and promoting them in the meantime. really? doesn’t consider herself to be an actual? model? feels more like a fraud if you ask her, but yes she has walked in shows and appeared in magazines. most of those opportunities came because of her status as an actress, anyway.

searching for a new avenue to explore. she needs something different to spice her life up! something to give her a real challenge since she’s been doing this stuff for years.

deep down she wishes one of her projects would flop so the projects can shift to someone else, but her pride doesn’t let her half-ass anything. she’s always all-in.

personality

dont let the public image fool u, chorong is not as uptight and “serious” as she makes herself appear. typically the mood maker on set / seen goofing around with costars. the act is just to suit the adagio rep.

she still has a level of professionalism to her though. formalities until she considers you close enough to be a friend.

think she’s pretty approachable?? but may be a little bit intimidating  bc of her seniority? dont worry she doesn’t bite.

always up for new experiences and open to trying out new things. can be spontaneous and act on impulses.

ambitious, that’s how she got to this point in her career. wants to do everything to the best of her ability.

a little irritable, but has mastered controlling that feeling. for the most part. can be a bit snarky and argumentative once irritated though.

quick plot ideas since my plots page likely isn’t finished lmfao

are you looking to take acting more seriously / just wants some advice? well it’s your lucky day, chorong, a well known name in the industry, is coincidentally right there.

industry friends <3 long spanning career, i envision she may have more friends around her age/older but she’d also extend herself out to younger people as well, it just might be a little harder for her to do so? 

random friends bc she loves meeting new people. good luck on trying to get close to her though.

close knit circle of friends that’s not really publicized.

someone who dislikes chorong for whatever reason. maybe they think her quick rise to success or the way she manages to skirt her way out of any rumors / potential scandals suspicious.

or vice versa chorong dislike your muse for whatever reason. maybe it’s a bad first impression or the reputation that follows them? 

++ potentially having chorong star in ur music video ( girlie hasn’t done that in over 10 years, but she found her 1 experience fun and wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again )

past relationships / flings. she’s a very passionate and intense partner, and busy schedules often do not bode well for her. we can come up for numerous reasons for a separation.

her current flavor of the week. or maybe the month? really, any potential current / more recent love interests. longevity varies depending on how she feels about the other.

[book-place]

Light at the End

Warnings: Obi-Wan series spoilers, selling spices, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Obi-Wan x reader platonic

Request: Requests for platonic relationships in Obi Wan. How bout that random drug dealer girl who helped him out and him. Maybe after all the stuff concludes with Leia he goes back and helps get her out of whatever situation she is in because 'she was someone's daughter once too' and Obi Wan just can't sleep at night without trying to help her if she wants it.

Request by: @reveriewriting

*not my gif*

Summary: After resolving everything with Luke and Leia, Obi-Wan had one thing left to take care of

A/N: This one was written very late at night, but it might not be half bad ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“I was someone’s daughter once too.”

Those words had been bouncing around in Obi-Wan's head ever since you had spoken them to him.

They were words that he could not stop thinking about. Words that would not leave his head, no matter how hard he tried to forget them.

It left him wondering just how many other people out there were in the same position Leia had been in, that had been ripped away from their families and forced into a life they never wanted with no way back to the lives they used to know and have.

Nobody was there to help any of those kids like he had been there to help Leia.

He supposed that’s why he found himself on a transport ship back to Daiyu, the place that he had practically just been running as fast as he could away from.

After he had brought Leia back to her family and met Luke, he didn’t really know what to do with himself.

He had made the mistake of inserting himself back into the galaxy by going on that rescue mission, and there was way too much pain and suffering for him to just let go and ignore.

Maybe it was to give himself peace of mind, to know that one less person was in a situation like that. Or maybe it was to distract himself from what he had done to Anak- Vader… to Darth Vader.

But all he knew was that he couldn’t sleep at night ever since you had said those six words to him. And it was driving him insane.

He also knew that the odds of ever finding you in a city of that size and population again were as close to none as they could get. He never liked being told the odds, though.

As he roamed the crowded streets, swerving around people, his eyes sharply scanned all of the area around him, looking out for any sign of you.

His steps began to slow as he came upon the place that he had first met you, and took a minute to catch his breath after the nonstop walking he had done after getting off the ship.

Subconsciously, his eyes widened as he looked a few feet to his right and his gaze locked on two people conversing back and forth.

Some man in his early twenties and you.

All he could do was stand in shock of the sight of actually seeing you again as you handed the man a vial of red spice before said man scurried off.

He continued to watch as you pocketed the credits and began scanning the area surrounding you, most likely looking for a new potential customer.

Your eyes widened as well though, when you looked to the side and caught sight of a man you had seen days ago, Obi-wan- not that you even knew his name.

You were even more shocked as his feet began to move in a direction- your direction.

“What are you doing?” You hissed once he was in hearing distance, “Listen, man, I can’t give you anymore free spice. My employer wasn’t too happy last time.”

You shivered slightly at the memory of him finding one less product and not enough money to cover it.

“What?” The man asked in confusion, “I’m not here for anymore spice.”

This made you deflate a little and your eyes turned apologetic, remembering the circumstances that you had actually met him in the first time, “You still haven’t found your daughter, have you?”

“I have.”

A wave of emotions hit you at once. Relief, surprise, down right shock, and a little bit of happiness were all mixed into it.

“Oh.” You breathed out, “That’s good, then.” Then you came to a realization, “But if you have your daughter and you’re not here for more spice… then what are you here for?”

You watched as his eyes darted around from side to side, as if worried that someone would be over hearing your conversation.

Normally, this would have put you on edge, and you would have been ready to run at the first sign of real danger, but something about that man made you feel calm and not at risk.

“Do you remember what you told me when you helped me out?” He asked hurriedly, not bothering to answer your question.

“What?” Your eyebrows furrowed, “If I’m being completely honest, not really-“

“You told me that you were someone’s daughter once too. That’s why you felt inclined to help me.” He explained, beginning to tap his foot nervously, as if waiting for something to happen.

“So?”

“So I couldn’t stop thinking about that.” He appeared to have calmed down a bit when nobody seemed to be suspicious of the two of you, “I want to help you get out of here.”

“Get me out of-“ You cut yourself short in time to stop your voice from escalating to a yell, “Are you out of your mind?”

“I won’t help you if you don’t feel that you want or need my help.” He tried to explain calmly, putting his hands up almost in a reassuring way.

Your eyes flickered down to the ground, a brief look of defeat crossing your features, “Even if you could get me out of this place, I have nowhere to go.” You told him softly, tone calming down a lot more than before.

The man seemed to consider this for a minute, “Have you ever been to Tatooine?”

You eyed him warily, “That’s a desert planet, right?”

He nodded, “I am actually living there right now, and if you accept my offer to help you then you are more than welcome to live with me until you can provide for yourself.”

You could hardly believe your own ears. A person was offering to help you. There was a way to get out of this life after all, your very own light at the end of the tunnel.

“You really mean that?” You asked him.

“Of course.” He didn’t even hesitate.

A slow grin spread across your face, “Tatooine might just end up being the perfect destination for me.”

Padawans 🧡- @spidyyparker @fabulousapple @femalemarvelself

[thisismysecondrodeo]

"This Means the World to Me" Part 9

wc: 2.8k

Story Page | Story Tag

AN: This one has a touch of angst, but you gotta believe in rom-communism to make it to the spice at the end marked with 🌶️

Tags: oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, graphic descriptions of p-in-v sex

Willa did end up coming to New York to celebrate. You had meetings with Sasha and HBO about what’s next, Jason joining over Zoom. The two of you put on your professional hats and tried to keep the loving gazes to a minimum, not that it always worked. 

Sasha kept it real with you, as she always did. “You’re not going to be rich for the next few months, even the next year or two. But I think you should take the leap and quit the day job. You are so talented. This is the start, not the peak. Boring old accounting will always be there, and I’m sure you can thrive off you-know-who’s Ted Lasso money.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not letting Jason bankroll me. Well, not directly. I’ve got savings and a writer’s room paycheck, I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“Selfishly,” Sasha started speaking slowly, sipping her latte. The two of you were in a coffee shop around the corner from her office, a mix of personal and professional. “I wouldn’t say no to another novel. We’ve talked about other ideas you’ve had and I know time is going to be tight, but now would be a great time, publicity-wise.” 

You hadn’t thought about a 3rd novel but you always have ideas floating, always have a notebook tossed in a bag for when something strikes you. Jason joked he felt like he was out with his therapist sometimes, but you often let him read your ideas. You enjoyed his feedback; he was a brilliant writer and he made your ideas stronger.

“What about short stories? I feel like I can totally squeeze in some ideas that won’t make full length novels.” 

“Girl, that’s a great idea,” Sasha accidentally got too loud and looked around, waving her hand dismissively, “I’m literally already too excited. Can you work on getting me some ideas soon? Something I can shop around?”

“I will get on that in London,” and you knew when you said it that it would set Sasha off on a girl talk tangent. You didn’t mind at all.

-

Because production for your show wouldn’t start until after Ted Lasso filming ended, you once again found yourself talking to Willa while buying a one way ticket, this time to London. The two of you would be heading to the airport together and she was uncharacteristically quiet. Willa lounged on the couch in Jason’s living room as you moved about the kitchen getting plates and forks for your takeout.

“Everything okay?”

Willa smiled softly at you. “Yeah, no, I’m just…so happy for you. You literally look so at home here. And I guess I’m just a little bummed that your family…” Willa trailed off. You hadn’t really spoken to your parents since the Emmys, not seriously anyway. They loved you, they checked in on you, but you hated the feeling like you needed to defend yourself and your choices, so the relationship was stilted.

You sighed. “I know. And I think you’re the best friend in the world that it’s bumming you out. I think we’ll get there you know? It’ll just… take some time.” 

“Are you going to take Jason to meet them?”

“Oh I guess I’ll have to eventually,” you waved your hand dismissively, “but god it feels like a dick move to subject him to that.” 

“You’re not subjecting him, he loves you. And I’m sure your brother is dying to meet him.” Willa was right, your older brother had been supportive from day one, had technically met Jason on FaceTime and asked after him everytime the two of you spoke, which wasn’t often but was always pleasant. “Just take everyone to an activity of some kind, a basketball game or a movie, literally just anything where you don’t have to entertain each other for 2 hours.” You laughed. Willa was right, as she tended to be. 

-

Your arrival in London was marked with the energy of a homecoming. You surprised Jason by coming straight to set, not wanting to waste a minute by waiting for him at his rental. You felt bad that you showing up was such a distraction, but Hannah and Juno especially greeted you like long lost friends. Brett grinned, with a “there she is,” and met you with open arms. And at the end of a long line of hello’s was Jason in one of his classic directing outfits, a Run the Jewels hoodie and baseball cap, smiling broadly at you and catching you in his arms, spinning you around with a chaste kiss. 

You joined the crew on their lunch break and caught everyone up on your good news, that you’d be writing your next book, or at least as much of it as you could, while you were still in London, and the cast invited you to hang out while you did it. You looked to Jason, not wanting to overstep but he just nodded enthusiastically, so you agreed. 

“Alright, more importantly,” Brett started, everyone turning to listen, “if you’re going to hang out with us, you have to take the quiz.”

“Oooo, yes,” Toheeb responded excitedly clapping his hands together. 

You laughed looking around the faces at the table, nervous but curious, “Oh jeez and if I fail?”

“Well its only one question and you’ll still be allowed back you’ll just never hear the end of it.” 

“Fair, hit me.”

“If you could choose any song for Rebecca to have karaoke’d in Season 1, what would you have picked?”

You put on your most serious face while you tried to think of a good answer, something that didn’t sound like you were sucking up to someone’s specific sensibilities. It suddenly hit you, a ridiculous answer that almost made you laugh out loud but you thought it would hit harder if you said it matter-of-factly. 

“American Boy by Estelle ft. Kanye West. Colin doing the Kanye verse of course.” 

You give it a beat, amused at how no one quite knows if they’re meant to laugh until you finally crack a smile. Brett laughed loudly and easily, hitting his hand on the table, Jason joining him with a giggle. Hannah didn’t know the song and everyone got a kick out of playing it for her. 

“You passed,” chuckled Brendan, “that’s certainly one we’ve never heard.” 

“So karaoke tonight then, yeah,” suggested Juno giddily.

“Oh I am NOT a performer,” you laughed. “But I will happily hang out and drunkenly support you.” You yawned at the end of your sentence, and Jason shook his head at you.

“After a nap maybe. Come on I’ll get you home. Be back in 30 y’all,” Jason directed towards the crew who all nodded, happy to get a little bit of extra lunch time. 

“Make that 45,” you suggested, and Hannah and Juno giggled knowingly. Jason laughed taking wrapping an arm around your waist, and tossing over his shoulder, “you heard the lady.”

Karaoke that evening was as raucous as you expected, more of a free-wheeling club. Having time with Jason earlier in the day, as quick as it was, helped you feel more settled, more free to party with his friends like they were yours. You danced with Juno in a way that in past relationships would have made your partner jealous but when you looked over at Jason he was watching with amusement, pressing a bottle of beer to his lips, dragging your eyes to his jawline. It was Juno’s small frame pressed against you at the moment, but when your eyes locked on him you could still feel the ghost of his presence, his touch. 

When the song ended you grabbed another drink, and as soon as you pressed the glass to your lips you could feel Jason come up behind you, his hands on your waist, leaning over you to order another beer. 

“You are incredibly sexy, you know that,” he whispered low in your ear, and you shuddered involuntarily. Just as he pressed his lips to your neck, you heard Brett calling your name and the opening notes of American Boy. You turned in Jason’s arms, “you didn’t!” Jason lifted his hands up defensively and laughed, “not me.”

And somehow you found yourself three sheets to the wind being the Kanye to Brett’s Estelle. There was more drinks and more laughter and at the end of the night you found yourself giving a drunk Juno a piggyback ride on the way to a chip shop. You were glad to be heading out because you weren’t sure how much longer you could look at Jason’s mouth around a beer bottle, or his tongue licking salt off the rim of a shot glass. You could tell he was feeling it too, when he kissed you more passionately than he normally would in public, Juno still wrapped around your back laughing at how closely she was involved. Hannah snapped a photo and the next morning when you managed to untangle yourself from the sheets you saw it on Juno’s instagram, and laughed when you realized she had used your caption, Paris looks nice this time of year. 

The time in London was flying by and you didn’t go to set everyday but you were there often. It was nice to have people around while you wrote, the hustle and bustle kept you focused. You and Jason fell into a routine similar to that in New York, but now with plans for his kids to come out for a while. You made plans with your family to visit New York, and by extension meet Jason,  when you were back in town. Now that the writers room for the show had a date, there were plans that needed to be made and as exciting as it was, it made you anxious. And being anxious made you grumpy, as much as you didn’t want to be grumpy around Jason. It was hard to not want to be perfect. But as much as Jason was surprised that you could read him like a book, he could do the same for you. 

“Alright,” he said, falling on to the couch next to you as he came in from shooting. “What has you all sunken in there?” He tapped your head gently, his tone light. 

“Nothing,” you responded quickly, still tapping away on your laptop. You knew if you turned to look at him he’d be able to see everything you didn’t want to tell him. You could work out your anxiety on your own, like you had for years. He had been nothing but accommodating, there was no reason to saddle him with your unfounded insecurities. 

“Uh huh,” he said slowly, clearly not believing you. “Is it the book?”

“Not the book.”

“Your family?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“My family?”

“Jason.” You said it sharply and Jason chuckled thinking that he was getting somewhere, until he looked at you and realized that you were serious. 

“Baby, can you close your laptop? Please?”

You did but you still didn’t look at him. “I just, I know we’ve talked about it, but everything is moving so fast and I just, I’m starting to feel like I’m drifting out to sea. Like where do I live anymore, what am I doing, is the book any good, is the show gonna—”

Jason sighed. You felt guilty for bringing up old conversations, but then you were mad that he was making you feel guilty. This was so hard, being an author and writing a show was so much harder than you’d thought. Dating a celebrity was harder than you thought it would be. You squared your shoulders and looked at him. 

“Jason, you… I mean..this is hard!”

“Us?”

“Everything. I just,” you sighed, “you’ve got all your shit together and, you know, you’re busy but you don’t seem stressed to the point of imploding and you’re the fucking executive producer.” 

Jason rubbed a hand over his face, fiddling with his mustache, “That’s what this is really about isn’t it, that I’m executive producer.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re finally mad at me for stealing your thunder. I knew it would come back around but I really wish we had hashed this out before—”

“Jason,” you can feel yourself getting louder, not quite yelling but certainly not the volume of polite conversation. “I meant what I said, I don’t HAVE thunder without you stepping in. I’m jealous, sure, but not about that. You’re show running and acting and launching a new show and writing and co-parenting and dating me and I can’t fucking do the one thing in my life I’ve always dreamed of doing without cracking into pieces. I’m jealous that its not too fucking much for you.”

Jason stood, putting distance between the two you and running his hands through his hair. He was silent for a few moments and you replayed what you said, because you could feel him oozing hurt. Finally, in a pained voice, he asked, “Are you breaking up with me? Am I...is this...too much for you because we can…I mean, I can—”

“No! Jason, stop. listen to me,” you were frustrated but apologetic and you could tell Jason was frustrated too. 

“So what are you saying? Huh?”

“I’m saying I love you! I’m just fucking overwhelmed even if it is in a positive way. Even if I’m overwhelmed with good things I’m still fucking overwhelmed.” 

The room was quiet in the aftermath of your outburst. You were so embarrassed it didn’t truly sink in what you’d said. 

“Did you…just tell me you love me for the first time in the middle of an argument?”

You look at him wide-eyed. “...Well it wasn’t meant to be an argument.” You shrugged and he laughed. Jason moved your laptop onto the coffee table as he sat down and pulled you into his lap. When you finally met his gaze, what you saw there made you forget the feeling of drowning you’d been experiencing so recently lately.

“Y/N… I love you. So much. And if there’s anything I can do to help you feel less overwhelmed I want to do it. Okay? There’s no problem that’s too small to burden me with. Even if that problem is that you’re wayyyy too happy. I just need you to talk to me.” 

You laughed and dropped your head kissing up his neck, to his jaw, finally meeting his lips. It felt the same as it always did, except more than. Deeper. 

“You love me, huh?” He smiled and you pressed another small kiss to his lips. “I hear you. And I certainly am wayyyyy too happy,” you kissed him again. “But I can think of one thing you could do to help right now,” you said as you moved off his lap, pulling him down over you. Every part of your skin he revealed he pressed a whispered I love you into, until you were panting with desire. 

🌶️Spice🌶️

Jason leaned back from your naked form. He was still dressed in his trackpants and hoodie and you could feel his gaze over your body.

“Mmh,” he grunted with a smirk, and your cheeks flushed. “You know it’s been six months,” he said pressing kisses down your chest, “and every time I see you naked I go a little bit more insane.”

“Oh yeah?” You tried to keep your voice steady, but it came out as a moan, “so I’ve got about 6 more months before you’re just totally gone?”

Jason licked straight up your center and you gasped at the feel of his tongue. “Yeah, no, you’ve got maybe two weeks.” 

Emotions were so heightened it wasn’t going to take much for Jason to make you fall apart, especially not once he introduced two of his long fingers as his tongue continued swirling around your clit. You were already closer to orgasm than you thought you were, and as much as you appreciated Jason being a giver, you wanted him inside you immediately and you weren’t afraid to tell him so. 

Jason stripped down and you ran your hands lovingly over his neck, his chest, his thighs. Something about the way he waited patiently and just let you touch gave you the most powerful feeling of ownership. He was yours. You could take what you wanted from him. And you did, using one hand to tug his chin towards you for a kiss and the other to line him up with your center. He started to move slowly, reverently, but with a nod of encouragement from you, picked up the pace and fucked you with every praise he could think of falling off his tongue. He used his thumb to bring you over the edge with him, moaning your name as he did. He collapsed gently on top of you and you held him against your chest, pressing kisses to the crown of his head. 

❄️End of Spice❄️

“It doesn’t matter how hard it is, it doesn’t matter if the show works, it doesn’t matter where I live,” you realized softly, whispering more to yourself than him, “not when this feels like home.”

AN: Can't believe we're almost at the end! American Boy karaoke is one of the first ideas I had for this fic, and then I saw this wonderful fanvid and knew it had to happen. Also special thanks to everyone replying or reblogging and saying how much you enjoy the story in the tags, greatly appreciated!

✨Taglist✨: @tedlassostan

[quietly-by-myself]

March Trope-A-Thon Day 3 - Barracks/Training + Patching Up A Wound

March Trope-A-Thon Masterlist | Story Masterlist

@amonthofwhump

A few notes:

This story is for Mercury and Time, set before Faolan/Louka's friends are executed. Thus, the names are different.

Lossren = Louka/Faolan, his name from before William changed it

Faolan = the Faolan that Louka/Faolan named himself after

Allen = Louka/Faolan's boyfriend

CW: military whump, talk of diarrhea/food poisoning/cholera, familial death, wounds, bullying due to being gay, homophobia

===

Lossren glared at Faolan. Faolan was laughing at him. Again.

The barracks stunk so badly. When Lossren had asked Faolan what was going on, Faolan had laughed in his face. 

“You didn’t hear? From your boyfriend? Allen has the shits.”

Of course, Lossren’s mother and sister had both died of cholera. He didn’t find the humor in Allen, his boyfriend, “having the shits.” It was probably just food poisoning, but Lossren couldn’t help his anxiety.

“They’re making sure he’s drinking, right?”

Faolan’s smile faded a bit when he saw the panic in Lossren’s eyes. His glare had long since faded into a look of terror.

“Geez. Lossren, it’s just the shits. He has food poisoning, not cholera.”

Lossren couldn’t help but knock Faolan over the head. It was a punch he threw like he really meant it.

“Jesus Christ, Lossren.”

“My family fucking died of cholera, Faolan.”

Faolan went quiet for a long time. His cheeks flushed a little with shame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Should’ve thought of it. You knew the outbreak wasn’t that long ago.”

Again, silence. “Yeah, I should’ve thought of that. I know where you’re from.” Faolan went quiet for a little while longer. “Anyway, what did you call me for?”

“Well, you’re our unit’s doc, aren’t you?” Lossren lifted his shirt to reveal a deep wound in his side. It wasn’t bleeding thanks to the leftover shirt that Lossren had used to patch it up. “Think you can fix that?”

Faolan froze a bit. “Who- who the fuck did that to you, Lossren?”

Lossren looked to the side. It was his turn to flush with shame. “You know. It was just Shamus’ unit again.”

“They’re still picking on you? Even after the Boss said not to?”

Lossren nodded, not meeting Faolan’s eyes. “They really, really don’t like that I’m gay.”

“Fuck, man.” Faolan lifted the makeshift bandages to look at the wound. It was painful, red, and hot - the only reason that Lossren wanted help in the first place. “This isn’t recent. It’s a few days old at least.”

Again, Lossren nodded. “You’re right.”

Faolan kneeled down to look Lossren in the eyes. “You need to tell me next time. Right away. This isn’t right, Lossren. They’re the only ones who have a problem with you and Allen. And they only pick on you, right?”

“Yeah, it’s ‘cause I’m small.”

Faolan stood up and went to grab the med kit. Once he came back, he got to work on Lossren’s wound.

“I know you don’t want to bother Allen, but you can tell me anything, Lossren. I promise I won’t judge you.”

“I know.”

“If you know, why didn’t you tell me?”

The question stumped Lossren as Faolan worked on disinfecting his wound. Lossren hissed a little, the pain flaring against the alcohol swabs. 

“Well?”

“My heart doesn’t believe that there’s people who will look out for me.”

Faolan went quiet, focusing on his work for a moment. “Well, I hope your heart learns that you aren’t alone anymore, Lossren. You have us. You can rely on us. You know, Shamus deserves to be beat up for that. I won’t do anything, but I can’t make any promises about when word gets out.”

Lossren nodded. “Can you keep it between us for now?”

“I’m telling the Boss whether you like it or not.”

Lossren pursed his lips. “I understand. Just, promise me that you won’t tell Allen?”

Faolan went quiet. “That much, I can do.”

===

Tags: @hold-him-down, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @the-blind-one-speaks

Everything bagel: @whumpsday @i-can-even-burn-salad @pigeonwhumps @oddsconvert

[fabeong]

Ascension - a SWTOR short (2)

When the Sith walked onto the bridge where Andronikos was pouring over the flashing console he only glanced up once. Then his mind registered what he saw seeing and he looked up again – because the Sith wasn’t wearing her helmet. In the dim light of the cave on Tatooine he had seen the basics; green scarred skin, diamond face tattoos, glowing yellow eyes. But here, under the bright light of the ship her features were illuminated and Andronikos couldn’t help but stare a bit.

She really was small, with skin the colour of a forest like Endor’s, and short black hair tied back in various places with basic decorations, and those scars – if Andronikos didn’t know any better he would think someone had pushed the Sith’s face into barbed wire. But damn if she wasn’t still kinda pretty, and those yellow eyes stared right back at him with a defiance that made something shiver down his spine like an electric jolt.

“Nice ship.” He said. With the silence broken the Sith came in properly, approaching the console he had been inspecting.

“You think you can fly this as well as your own?”

“Heh. I can fly anything, trust me.” Andronikos smirked, patting the consoles. The Sith’s cheeks twitched like she didn’t know how to smile, and his curiosity overtook him. “What’s the story, Sith? Seems like you know all about me and I don’t know nothing about you. You always a sicko or you just kind of fall into it, like I did?”

The Sith exhaled something close to a chuckle and fell gracefully into the captain’s chair; she peered up at him with those yellow eyes and for a moment he wasn’t sure if she would reply. But then she shrugged.

“I didn’t really have much choice.” She said. “My parents were slaves. I was a slave. Originally I was meant to be something like a housemaid, for cooking, cleaning, and… personal use.” She tossed the phrase out so casually, raising her eyebrows, and Andronikos rolled his eyes. He got the insinuation.

“But?”

“But I kept hitting back. Eventually the family… devalued me,” she gestured lightly to her face and the spiderweb of scarring, “and sent me to Kessel, to the spice mines there. Do you know it?”

Andronikos frowned – he knew Kessel well enough, and he knew the typical work and fate of the slaves one saw in those mines.

“Rough place.” He ventured, and the Sith chuckled in agreement.

“Most don’t last a year. I was there for two. Then one day the overseer was lashing me harder than he should have and…” her voice trailed off, and her gaze fell to her hands. She flexed them, and Andronikos heard the crackle of electricity, saw the sparks jump across her fingertips. He looked back up at the Sith’s face, grinning.

“Tell me you killed him.”

“One moment he was raising the whip again and the next… well, his ashes were getting all blown into the spice. I couldn’t explain what I’d done, but I remember the way everyone looked at me. One of the higher-ups must have seen, because I was handed over to the Sith just days later.”

“So here you are.”

“So here I am.”

“Funny how those Sith work.” Andronikos leant back against the ship’s wall, deciding to return the favour of a story, “I was an accountant on Moneylend when I decided I wanted a little more adventure. So I put a blaster to the head of the Intergalactic Banking Clan and walked off with a few million credits.” Just to illustrate the tale he spun his blaster out its holster and raised it at the Sith, who didn’t even blink. If anything, the twitch of her mouth solidified into the closest thing to a smile he’d seen so far. Andronikos grinned too. “Been robbing and murdering ever since.”

“Well it sounds like you made a good start. Just don’t put a blaster to my head.” Her words came out as a murmur, lovely and low without the distortion of the helmet.

“Don’t worry, Sith.” Andronikos smirked, holstering his weapon again, “I got a good survival instinct.”

There was no doubting it now, the Sith’s lips curled upwards into a smirk of her own.

“Me too.”

He paused, her yellow eyes and placid smirk filling his vision; but then a snarl came from somewhere else in the ship and the Sith looked over her shoulder, her face falling back into a guarded frown. “Khem Val. I should go.” Andronikos shook his head as she got to her feet and began to leave.

“You’ve got to tell me how you got that beast sometime.”

She paused in the doorway, looking back at him and holding up her electric hand. “Another time. I promise.”

Then the Sith was gone, her footsteps echoing through the ship and leaving Andronikos with the consoles. Promise, huh? He wouldn’t have pinned her down as a woman so easy to talk to, but he couldn’t deny the promise of more conversations… wasn’t bad. Maybe he’d even find out her name next time.

Sith. Andronikos shrugged, turning back to the ship controls. Never can figure them out.