#so i have weird thoughts like this where it's very tangled on a lot of levels and all i can manage to verbalise is oiugfhdgjksgfd.........

[the--highlanders]

thinking about jamie being gay just makes me feel shrimp emotions honestly like. first of all in the spirit of doing whatever you like with canon I can just. say he's gay. but also there's so much textual evidence which makes him so easy to read as queer. and THEN I think interpreting him as gay adds extra layers to the fact that his initial character brief leans pretty heavily into the (hyper-masculine, heteronormative) character trope of the romantic highlander, but his on-screen character undermines/subverts that trope in a lot of ways.

like it's fun from a shipping point of view AND a textual point of view AND an analytical point of view. just. *chef's kiss* truly the character of all time

[astrogre]

Astro Observations 1

My first Astro observations post, I would like to confirm that my observations are the niche ways in which a placement may manifest, it is the way I’ve noticed it in others, the people around me, celebrities, myself and in my studies. It is not the doctrine wide broad way the placement occurs for everyone.

Venus in 10th house natives tend to be well known for the person they may date. They tend to date people that really match them physically and can have their relationships idolized by others. The sign it’s under can show what their partners may be known for. This is also a common placement for celebrities because the interest from others in your love life increases your public image, making you more desirable and of interest to everyone including agencies/record labels, they will see your influential potential and love that. Even if you guys don’t date anyone people may have someone in mind who they think matches you or others can just look at you and wonder what your “type” is. Your love life in itself is of interest to others.

Eg. Chris Brown, Johnny Depp, Jimin, Victoria Beckham, Kristen Stewart, Billie Eilish, Kanye West.

Another way Venus 10th housers may manifest is they may have crushes on renowned key figures from history like JFK, Alexander Hamilton, Stalin, Cleopatra, Marilyn Monroe, royal monarchy literally any people of historical significance. (Saturn influence is long lasting and for Venus to be here it can make natives romanticise powerful historical figures)

Pluto 3rd housers can dominate the conversations they have with others so much that they don’t let the other person have their own opinion.

Capricorn Chiron in 6th house makes people feel worthless and terrible if they haven’t been productive for a day, these people don’t like to be lazy, it makes them feel inferior. They put a lot of pressure on themselves to produce and their day routine may be their greatest pride.

10H stellium always have career plans, they like to advance their CV and career prowess for fun, always taking up opportunities. Especially if sun is here.

12H stellium always posting the weirdest stuff that others don’t understand but it has a unique vibe to it that just feels “right” at the same time, they may have this aesthetic that feels eery but overtime enjoyable and something to look forward to because of its uniqueness. I have a 12H stellium friend and they always post pictures of weird random abandoned places with crocs and dirty teddy bears laying in the middle of them. At first I thought it strange but overtime, I look forward to what monstrosity of visuals they will bring next. 12H really does bring out things never seen before. 🤔

Venus in 1H makes you look very feminine, you may style yourself in a feminine manner or have a naturally feminine appearance. Eg. Leo Venus in 1H May have very beautiful feminine looking long hair.

1H Libra Mars has a similar effect as Venus in the 1H however these natives have a hint touch of masculinity, are rather playboy, Casanova and can have a big ego. Think of Flynn rider from tangled. Very pretty boy.

People with 12H Capricorn placements may procrastinate or find difficulty in bringing the planets in there into reality and get frustrated at themselves for it. It’s similar to the planet being in retrograde E.g a 12H Capricorn moon not being able to fully show or act on the way they feel in their head. Look at the house of where Saturn is in your chart to find the topics and how you can bring the energy of your Capricorn 12H planets out.

0 degrees for any planet or asteroid means that you embody that planet/asteroid and its sign in its most pure authentic form. It can make you the epithet of that placement.

Lilith Square Asc makes someone not able to escape looking like a bad boy/girl it always comes out in their appearance without them intending to. They don’t want to present themselves in a way that looks scandalous but at the same time a part of them is and they can’t escape that. It’s like an energy. They’re dynamic and free, they like what they like and that shows in their face and appearance. They also can’t change things about themselves to please others even if they wanted to.

Jupiter 1H usually have big features, like a glossy kind of look to them. It may be big eyes, flushed face, supple puffy skin, wide nose or just have an abundant looking face. I’ve also noticed they tend to have a squared shape face with rounded edges. E.g Hailey Beiber, Abraham Lincoln, Gerard Butler, Aishwarya Rai, Niall Horan, Ashton kutcher, Whitney Houston, Cristiano Ronaldo

Also this is completely random and not astrologically backed up but whenever I think of Jupiter 1H I just think of clear gleaming skin. Perhaps it is backed up astrologically as Jupiter blesses and brings luck to the house it’s in and it being in the 1st rules a natives appearance. Anyways when I think of Jupiter 1st house I always imagine that they don’t need very much makeup they have this glow to them already that cannot be copied.

Virgo ASC style and dress themselves in a way that’s unique for them, for an example they may always have a signature accessory that they wear that only they understand why it’s so important to be worn. E.g. can be a headband, jewellery or hat. They may also be consistent in the way they look, they don’t tend to have “bad days”. In my personal opinion I find Virgo rising men the most attractive. But beauty is in the perspective of the beholder.

Speaking of which, my unpopular opinion is that I don’t believe that a sign or planet can make you more beautiful than another sign E.g like how people say Venus, libra and Taurus is an indicator of being beautiful -I just think that each sign personifies beauty in a different way. In my eyes I see Libra and Venus beauty to be feminine and attractive, but I find Pluto Scorpio beauty to be alluring and intense, magnetic, like Phantom of the opera, like an enchanting vampire that resides in the shadows. I also find Uranus Aquarius beauty to be far more entrancing, striking and even as if the native looks like their from a game fantasy novel or a manga protagonist. I don’t think we can just say “having Venus prominent makes someone more beautiful than others”, perhaps conventionally but not universally. Planets and signs of the first house can show us HOW the beauty is made manifest. It being of Venus, libra influence just kind of makes it feminine or conventionally attractive like butterflies or roses rather than intense or of large magnitude (unless making aspects to magnifying planets like Jupiter)

Aquarius moons can feel a lot of emotions but they’re very good at holding it in. People say that they don’t feel much because the nature of Aquarius being detached however I’ve also seen it occur in a way where the Aquarius moon native may pretend they’re not hurt or sad so that they can keep it pushing and force this happy facade so it hurts less but in reality their just burying the pain deeper. They are kind of avoidant but it makes you feel sorry for them because even if you try to comfort them they don’t even acknowledge the pain themselves so it doesn’t make much of a difference.

Jupiter in 6th house always have action packed days, they spend their days with joy and have a really good time. They usually have their dream day to day life. They’re your one friend that is always doing something interesting, fully booked and loves it.

Jupiter 8H are never strapped for cash, these natives can just be very lucky in getting money from others. Especially if in harmonious aspects with sun, Pluto and Venus. If aspects are negative native still doesn’t worry much but may find that people are a little more hesitant to giving or Jupiter 8H native doesn’t want to ask for it.

Mars 1H makes someone want to work harder on their body by going to the gym, may want to look more manly, aggressive.

Jupiter conjunct moon in 7th house makes you a very passionate lover, anyone who is in a relationship with you can always feel excited and you excel in relationships.

Mercury conjunct ascendant can make someone always think about their goals, plan their next move. They use their minds to get what they want from life and can talk about the principles they apply to themselves which can make them look rather intelligent to others. Can also make someone appear very youthful, not only in appearance but their mannerisms too. Like a dimply smile, blushing and shaking their head when complimented. An animated response.

Moon opposite asc, tends to make a person unable to think clearly when emotions are involved, especially when it’s related to topics in the house your moon is in, like you can look a little mentally unstable here 💀 because your emotions that you show can drastically change from 0-100. moon opp asc also can have a person go against what they want, their principles and approach to life, the opposition forces them to deny their feelings existence in order to act in the way they believe is best. You can even care more about your image than the themes of the moons house.

E.g 7H moon opposite ascendant can make someone care about their image in the relationship, display an image of nonchalance when in reality they’re very protective of their partner. The feelings from their partner and their relationship can be irresistible and make them at times abandon their vices and plans for themselves

[rxzennia]

selfish atonement

– requested. 

✎𓂃 executing your duty perfectly, until it’s not so heavy anymore. less romance, a lot of lore. mandatory shoutout to @st4rrth0ughts and their bodyguard reader & oc. i really searched up oswaldo for this pls enjoy (i tried to cook but i might’ve burnt it y'all)

ever since oswaldo’s expedition on aeragan-epharshel, you’ve become certain of one thing – he is a brilliant businessman; the epitome of a profitable business. regardless of the mostly negative emotions you felt while you undertook missions under his orders, you could at least admit that he brought unparalleled results to the ipc. 

but, well, it does not take a good man to make a good businessman.

this marks the third amber era after your departure from the marketing development department… no, your departure from the ipc as a whole. you’ve changed your name, got yourself a new appearance, and distanced yourself from oswaldo’s name.

you’ve since become a sellsword who answers only to your current client

you’ve chosen to not have your loyalty freely auctioned off to the wealthy precisely because of your history with oswaldo

aka, you’re done with the type of problems that can be solved with money, and you don’t want to be someone that can be easily bought with money, either

not in the sense that money won’t make you more likely to take a job, but in the sense that money won’t bribe you away from any ongoing duties

that’s enough about you and your standards

in any case, your history with the ipc (that you’ve manipulated a little) has been very helpful in landing you jobs

and at this point, you’ve got a nice word of mouth going on for you that you don’t need to bring up that history anymore

who would’ve thought that you’d end up in the ipc again?

this time as a temporary guard for one of the ten stonehearts

you don’t know what possessed someone like diamond to ask for you, because you’re pretty sure he knows about your previous involvement with the ipc

and also, what the fuck does the ten stonehearts need a bodyguard for?

you’d pay a million credits to bet that diamond just wanted someone to be surveillance

but hey, a client is a client, so you agree to meet the one you’re supposedly “protecting”

you walk into the room, and immediately you want to walk out. diamond is doing this on purpose, he’s gotta be, he’s got to have done a background check on you and still decided to choose violence.

you come face to face with aventurine, and you thank all the aeons out there that you’ve made the decision to wear a mask whenever you’re out. you don’t know if diamond had briefed him on you or not, but judging by how warily civil he is, it doesn’t seem so. 

just so we’re clear, you were far too green to be directly involved when oswaldo launched his sigonia-iv project. while you did tag along on these trips and treaty signings, you have no personal involvement there except standing there like a statue and watching your superiors hammer out a treaty or something. unlike in aeragan-epharshel. where you were one of the combat pilots. oh, that’s another can of worms altogether.

at least he can’t see your expression right now as you shake hands

at least he doesn't hear your erratically beating heart

you introduce yourselves, and you bow out of habit

impression points +100 (your starting score is -10000)

that’s basically how you ended up involved with the ipc again

ugh, you just can’t leave them in the past, can you?

although, in your defense, they’re everywhere, and you can’t possibly turn down a job with such luxurious pay

so, now, instead of the marketing development department, you’re in the strategic investment department. diamond is also a good businessman, but… the ten stonehearts have such a weird dynamic. they’re all tangled together with office politics, yet share one authority figure that they ultimately obey – something you haven’t bothered to think about when you were last in the ipc. and something you won’t bother thinking about, because the mere thought of corporate makes you want to dig yourself into a hole.

in any case, your constant meddling in aventurine’s daily affairs begins today. he’s quite a guarded man, and you have no idea what diamond wants you to do by putting you next to him practically 24/7, but oh well, you’re getting paid.

you settle into a routine surprisingly quickly, and he doesn’t seem to mind your presence all that much

alarmed? yes. mildly annoyed that diamond put a walking tracker on him? also yes. 

dislike your presence? kinda (not really). 

at least he knows you won’t betray him for as long as your contract is in effect

even if you answer directly to diamond, you were tasked to watch over him

which means that you will execute your assigned duty to guard him and strictly only that duty

(truly, your reputation precedes you)

but what is worrying is how swiftly you can change sides the moment your contract expires

well, a problem for tomorrow. diamond’s got you leashed for a year.

he does run a background check on you himself

not that he doesn’t trust that diamond hadn’t vetted you, he just wants to know what sort of person he is now stuck with

guess who found out your name is probably fake but can’t find your real name

because he could only trace your name so far, and anything beyond that point is blank

the discoveries will shock you!! top 10 most scary facts you didn’t know 

all he got was a full report from your first job to this one

anything about your past before your current alias is completely untraceable

not that he intends to ask anyway; you haven’t given him any reason to dig further (yet)

he keeps an eye out for you though

even if he’s not suspicious of you at the moment, that could change in the blink of an eye

aventurine is surprised at how loyal you are to him. you’re under diamond’s orders, but you’re surprisingly putting in a lot to protect him. and to look after him.

to you, it’s just your job… and a selfish, twisted sort of repentance. it’s a thought you intend to take with you to the grave.

you’re not obligated to wake him up or bring him breakfast, but you do anyway

which, he realizes that you must’ve woken up like at least two hours before him

you coordinate his schedule with his assistant so that he doesn’t make pointless trips to five different locations just to end up at the same one twice

you, quite literally, hover over him

yes, even at huge conferences, you’re tailing him like his shadow

some kinda scary dog privilege going on

but of course, you give him space whenever he requires it and keep him within your sights instead

so far so good

but you know what spooks him still? 

that you get pissed when someone makes any nasty passing remark at him

no, you are not a feral street cat that scratches anyone who wrongs you (him)

what you do is you give them a scary confrontation

or you pick them out and lodge a complaint with their superiors afterwards, if they aren’t the top dog

one time he got his hands on a report that you’re writing

aeons, you blow it out of proportion without lying 

you like to call it a suitable amount of embellishing 

then you pull a lot of emotional appealing according to the opponents' company policy

which usually results in some sort of disciplinary action that is actually pretty satisfying to see

but also

damn, you’re merciless 

and also very adept at business talk

trust +100, doubt +25

(shady mercenary for hire with far too much experience type doubt)

you’re as good of a bodyguard as aventurine can get, especially for someone he didn’t hire himself… 

he quite likes you, actually! because how many people do you think asked him something like “why do you need a bodyguard” to his face? none! you’re as entertaining as they come. 

and so he finds joy in his boring executive work by pestering you

you know that, but you put up with him

in fact, this guy is so one of a kind that you don’t even feel pestered

you sometimes even drink with him

whenever he offers, of course, because you’re not too interested in drinking

you drink moderately on the job, but c’mon, when are you not on the job

okay, maybe when he’s just chilling in his office or in the hotel and not going anywhere

then there’s competitive drinking where he tries to coax you into talking about yourself by making you down shots

and guess who’s wasted every time? not you

“mr aventurine?” you ask, nudging the unconscious man next to you. “sir? earth to mr aventurine? hello?”

his empty glass of whiskey on the table, his face slightly flushed as he snoozes away on the table… yeah, it does not look comfy at all.

you sigh, he’s giving you more work again, and you carefully hoist him from the table. 

when he comes to again, he finds himself in his own room

his head hurts so much

he notices that he hasn’t changed from his usual attire – only his coat and accessories are taken off

okay, and the top button of his shirt is undone

did you bring him back? 

as always, you don’t even bother to change him

he sighs, you’re really not very good at reading signs

because he’s done this multiple times! and he’s whined about not being changed after!

more like you did notice but you choose not to do what he wants

that’s crossing a line in your books

and your books is something you stick to like you’re obsessed

at least you left him water and hangover medicine on the nightstand

why does he feel like you’re deliberately keeping him at arm’s length?

it’s been a while and you two have spent so much time together, yet you’re still a stranger to him

not even acquaintances 

like… like, you don’t initiate conversation when you’re watching him

both when he’s going somewhere (requires actual protecting) and chilling at home (does not require actual protecting)

and even after so many late night drinking sessions, he still hasn’t seen you without your mask

mainly because you’ve never been drunk enough for him to sneak a peek, but still

aventurine doesn’t know how to express affection. platonically, romantically, in general, pretty much. so he tries to do the one thing he does best, splurging. and he tries to splurge on you, because he’s intrigued and wants to make buy a friend, but…

but you don’t let him splurge on you! you don’t even let him give you gifts! he only knows how to win affection by spending money on others! 

sometimes he feels like you stick too strictly to your duties

just like his other subordinates… you take orders far too well

he’s tried to give you trinkets, designer clothes, even limited snacks

all of which were returned to him within 24 hours

though, with the snacks, you take it if he offers you a piece or two when he’s already opened it

and you let him treat you to coffee occasionally. very occasionally.

he eventually figures out that it’s a matter of principles

but what principles, exactly? you’re a sellsword, for aeon’s sake

he thought those are the people who have absolutely no principles???

anyway, won’t stop him from trying

“mr aventurine…” you pinch the bridge of your nose as you see the bags stacked on your desk. “i remember telling you that souvenirs are unnecessary.”

“what’s wrong with them?” aventurine laments dramatically. “i’ve picked out only the finest for you!”

you don’t deserve it, you think, but you don’t say that, of course

you don’t even know of his lifelong grudge towards oswaldo

you just know that you had a hand in the extinction event

not like hand hand, but you watched it happen… it doesn’t sit well with you

besides, you have the blood of almost an entire civilization on your hands

if you think too hard about it, the image of flames and carnage overlap with what is in front of you

then, you envision the records of sigonia that you’ve read through in the past

and everything blurs together, your actions, your inaction, and your unwavering loyalty that led you to not raise a single question at all

you squeeze your eyes shut tightly and purge the images from your mind

you are currently here, in the present

“i can’t take them.” you reply, finally, shaking your head. “it’s inappropriate for our standing. especially since there’s no reason for you to be gifting me so many things out of nowhere.”

“what, i can’t be nice to my bodyguard?” aventurine pouts as he sorts the bags in height order. “i’ve got a limited edition tie, an antique phonograph, a discontinued mug, some rare natural color ink for your fountain pen, a pure cashmere sweater–”

“that’s… that’s enough, sir.” you raise a hand to cut him off. “i don’t think i can accept any of them, really.”

aventurine makes a face, then pulls out a bag from the end of the queue. “fine, fine. what about this, at least? assorted cookies from an artisan bakery, using only the best ingredients sourced from all over the cosmos?”

you stare at that bag as you feel the expectant stare from your boss

maybe… maybe one out of these dozens of bags is fine

you’ve gotta think about his feelings too, after you’ve rejected so many gifts

you reluctantly, carefully take the bag and say a small “thank you”

you don’t want his fascination with you to develop any more than what he’s already showing…

but you also know that it’s not up to you

so what is up to you is drawing a line that you won’t allow him to cross

for his sake, and for your own… 

if he keeps pushing, you should keep pushing back

keyword should

but can you?

aeons, you truly are selfish

wouldn’t it have been better to keep everything professional from the very beginning?

it’s okay. you only have a little more than half a year to go before you’re no longer obligated to be here. you’ll run away before aventurine catches on, like how you ran away from your past.

it’s okay. it’s just been a few months, there’s still more than half a year’s worth of time. before you part ways, there are still chances to get to know you better. perhaps even time to become friends, in the most literal sense of the word.

and maybe by the end of it, “you” will reach a satisfactory conclusion.

[feyhunter78]

This new sweet, nerdy Miguel has me FERAL!!!!! HE'S SO CUTE I CAN'T —😩😩😩😩

I need some jealousy from him~ How do you imagine he acts when he feels jealous? He gets quiet and aloof, trying to avoid y/n so she don't notice? Or he gets angry and tries to mark territory? Hehe

AHH THANK YOUUUUU

I definitely want to write a full jealousy fic for him but I’ll give you a sprinkling of my thoughts while I plan for a full fic🫣

So, in the beginning before y’all get together he’s very quiet, really draws into himself, tries to act normal but is just a lot more reserved.

He’s afraid to voice how he feels because he doesn’t want to creep you out. (Gabriel got in his head. Bless his heart the poor boy is trying to help his brother, but he’s going about it the wrong way)

Very much a situation where he’s absent from class for a week or so because he gets sick and when he comes back he realizes another guy in class has been helping you with your notes.

You smile at the new guy, thank him in that sweet way you always thank Miguel and his stomach just churns and his chest starts aching. For a second he thinks he’s still sick, but when you smile at him and ask how he’s feeling the pain in his chest disappears.

He brushes it off, thanks you quietly for your concern, and throws himself into his work. For the first week you shrug it off thinking he’s still not feeling well, but after a while you end up confronting him which leads to:

“I just—I saw you and Brett, and, I’m glad you got help with your notes but you know you could’ve come to me.” He’s leaning against the wall, the wall you’ve trapped him against with your determined attitude and your inability to register when you’re invading his personal space.

“Miguel you were home, sick, and I didn’t want to bother you.” You remind him, your voice soft, tinged with concern.

He looks down at his feet, his shoulders hunched, his whole body curled in on itself. “You’re never a bother, not to me, so don’t—please don’t go looking somewhere else.”

But, when y’all get together???? Game changer. He’s still shy and he’s still the same Miguel you knew before but he’s more confident, he knows you won’t find it weird or creepy that he feels territorial over you. Now when a frat guy looks your way a bit too long in the courtyard he simply tilts your chin up with one finger and kisses you.

Of course his face is bright red after that and he buries it the crook of your neck, his big strong arms crushing you to his chest, and every time he does this you think it’s so cute.

If y’all are in private though, and say you have to go to a party or you’re going to be doing some joint event with a frat, he definitely likes sitting you in his lap and mouthing at your skin. Nothing too crazy on your neck, but he does leave a few large hickeys on your breasts, ones that sticks out from beneath the neckline of your shirt.

Just a bit of:

“Miguel! Come on, you know I didn’t bring any concealer.” You whine, your fingers tangled in his hair as his warm lips ghost over your skin, his tongue tracing the blossoming marks that trail down from your pulse point, dipping beneath the neckline of your shirt.

“I’m sorry mi dulce, I couldn’t help it, you look so pretty.” He says, as he dips his head biting down on the soft flesh of your breasts, his large hands holding them, pushing them up, his fang-like incisors scratching against your skin deliciously.

“I have to go, I’m going to be late for the mixer.” You try to tell him, your hands leaving his hair to lightly push at his chest.

One of his hands leaves your breasts, and spans your upper back keeping you pressed against him.

“Just one more? Please?” He asks, looking up at you with such adoration in his eyes you nearly grab your phone to text your sisters you’re not going to make it.

You sigh, but it’s halfhearted, playful, indulging. “One more.”

He smiles and captures your lips one more throughly distracting you as he lays you down on the couch under him.

[lucabyte]

If you wouldn't mind, could you explain to me in detail how your sifloop works? Would there ever be a romantic relationship between the two (and how do you think they would get to that stage) or do you just think they'll be stuck in this weird messed up obsession and loathing loop forever? Anyway your takes on sifloop are my favourite if you couldn't tell

Oh, I've been depicting it as romantic the whole time (remembers I'm asexual and aromantic and thus my depictions of such are alien at best) Er, though you'd be forgiven for not noticing.

I know I don't draw them being particularly traditionally cute (kissing, cuddling, etc) (even though I do envision that any time it's not literally extremely inconvenient that they are entangled like a pair of magnetised squiddles) particularly often.*

(Though, I do have some hints at that kind of behaviour: (x) (x) (x)) But this is where, hm, my particular readings of these characters' self-assessment comes in.

I believe that I (an aroace tumblr user who has been immersed in nuianced language about such things since i was an early teen) and Siffrin/Loop (a guy approaching their thirties who seems to have escaped social pressures primarily via isolation from their peers) will have some different views on things. Hell, Sif/Loop don't even have words for Asexuality and Aromanticism even if they seem to be able to point toward the feeling with roundabout language.

I think that their relationship, in the way that it would manifest, would first and foremost be Physical. Some real Maslow's hierarchy shit. Both of them are viciously touch starved and given the whole shared-ownership-of-body thing I keep alluding to (x) (x) I think they are prone to being a tangled pile of limbs both clothed and unclothed.

Now I (enlightened modern day asexual) do not think that physical/sexual/romantic are in any way synonyms unless you want them to be. I believe that literally all associated behaviours of these can be platonic if that's how you feel about it. Howeverrrrrrr. I really cannot envision "black-and-white-thinking-world-champion siffrin and/or loop" being able to disentangle that so easily. I think they would have trouble squaring the circle of certain actions not being reserved for romance, at least not until after several years of continued unpacking and philosophical discussion with Mirabelle and Odile.

And then there's the part where Siffrin/Loop (and also Isabeau!) have some absolutely insane Jealous streaks. Not even on the downlow, they just do. I think that combination of jealousy and posessiveness when paired with unevenly splitting time between A Guy You're Established To Be (at the very least on his side, romantically) In Love With, and Your Weird Fucking Clone Who You Keep Being Intimate And Intensely Emotional With, is going to cause some problems when it comes to labelling things.

I do not think Sif/Loop are stupid, but man do they ever lack emotional intelligence in a lot of areas (a thing the whole game hammers home). I do not think that they would be level-headed enough to independently invent the idea of "QPR, but the kind where you do basically fuck sometimes". I think they would just (agonise over cheating, first of all.) call it a romantic pairing and be done with it.

And then Isabeau is also there I guess. I gesture at him and at my aforementioned Iseabeau Torment Nexus thoughts (x)(x). I believe this polycule can work and even be healthy but hahahaha oh man they are gonna have some weirrrrrrd fuckin tension beforehand lolllll.

as for how i think they'd get to that stage? lol, lmao. I think of things with a lens of 'what would be the most narratively intense' a lot of the time, so my answer there is:

They basically act like one right out of the gate, at least to the average onlooker**. This makes the fights feel worse. This makes them both paranoid in different ways about how this affects Siffrin's relationship to Isabeau. This makes it more difficult for the party to go "hey so, your friend, we're all being very accepting of their sharp edges because they're clearly someone who's struggling, but why are they suuuuch an asshole?". They fret about this and it causes more push and pull as either side feels guilty about this relationship they're not 'supposed' to have. Even if their relationship woes could easily be squared away by either categorising it as a QPR or talking to Isa (who is vaugardian and probably thus lax about polyamory) neither of them are going to do that right out of the gate because they lack the language, are prone to being wracked by guilt, often assume the worst will happen should they talk about difficult topics, and straight up maybe just see intimacy/sexuality/romance as a package deal due to lacking the social expertise... You see what I mean.

I don't Know if what I envision is... The literal platonic ideal of "A Romantic Relationship". I don't know that if Cupid came on down and inspected my brain that they'd agree that this is romantic and not just like, something really fucking weird, man. I don't even know if I would call it romantic, necessarily. BUT. I Do Think. That These Two. Would Maybe Label It That Way. Because it would make it easier for them to understand and come to peace with that way. Which is what matters. Labels are Descriptive, not Prescriptive.

What I DO think i envision however is something so fucking aroace brained that i can point to sif/loop's canon labels, point to MY labels, and then give you a big thumbs up hoping that you won't get on my ass for implying several sentences upstream that "they probably basically fuck, or something, idk, does star-sucking count as sex? i'm not a doctor nor medical professional of any kind. you probably shouldn't drink whatever comes out of it though"

Implicit question 2: "Jesus Christ you make them seem to hate each other, is that not contradictory? Is that all supposed to be during them being romantically involved?" Yup! Sorry for the subtle undercurrent I haven't previously explicitly and overtly established literally at all but a good chunk of that percieved hatred is a byproduct of Loop keeping their identity secret. That's the space wherein I set most of my fanart. (x) Once that cat is out of the bag I think the heat cools off significantly because then they aren't both talking around each other trying not to actually say what they're fighting about. They can actually bond about shared experiences out in the open rather than keeping their traps shut in case the party overhears. They still fight and have problems thereafter, but it's not made worse by being unable to directly discuss the core issue (+ the party can actually contribute/try to shut things down rather than being unclear on what exactly the issue is)

The above ALSO not helping when it comes to jealousy/feelings of infidelity re: Isabeau. (When specifically in the context of Romantic Frustration here, since that jealousy extends to the whole party when generalised) So that adds another thing to, not necessarily fight about, but be bitter over.

As for hatred being contradictory. Mmm. Nah.

The opposite of Love is not Hate. It is Indifference. (A theme ISAT notably gets at). Hate is distinctly something you do if you care. Often if you care Way Too Much.

I try not to write them hating each other, so much as feeling extremely intensely about each other. (x)

Feeling intensely Thankful, Understood, Sorry, Trapped, Devoted, Jealous, Protective, Pitying, Indebted...

^ Scary ! Complicated ! Hard to deal with ! Even the positive ones can be overwhelming! It's gonna make things weird!

So uh, Yeah. There's your answer? I suppose tl;dr: I view relationships as nebulous and only defined by those in it. (This is something I have previously yapped about at length in essays about my OCs lol) And generally view that there's no "true" label for any relationship except the one that doesn't cause undue distress. (which. i mean it does here. but it probably works out in the end with enough talking)

Asking me to define if something is romantic is like asking me to pin down the true form of the Human Soul. Like dawg i dont know how to do that i dont even know if that shit is real. there are merely actions and their constructed societal categories. If i tell you I think they kiss sometimes does that clear it up? (It shouldn't, obviously, but you get what I mean)

But yeah. Gestures broadly. Shipping an ace (and maybe even aroace based on some shit that little fella says) character like this means it comes with an essay. Because it necessarily interfaces with their nonstandard mode of interaction in that arena. The part where its weirdo fucking ♠ ♥ ♦ ♣ selfcest merely adds a layer.***

... Anyway I'll leave you with this. The mirasifloop qpr "so what is.... romance?" discussion sessions are probably downright dialectical aren't they. Feelings Buddies discuss the phrase "Self-Love" 23467324235 dead 3 injured

*i do have like . 2 wips. that would. include this kind of behaviour explicitly. but i simply have not gotten around to them yet. and also don't worry neither of them are purely fluff both of them still have an air of worrying fuckedupedness about them. yay !

** inkeeping with my "geared for maximal conflict" mind, this can be flavoured with some "technically nobody can say it's not canon, I guess?" during-the-game Sifloop. By handing them the 'started leaning on each other for comfort more blatantly toward the end of a4' thing, since, well, I think exploring the "Loop expected at least one of them to be dead by the end of this/Loop never expected this to end, and thus began filling in that 'Lover' role as comfort/pity/selfishness/mercy given their knowledge that Isabeau is forever out of reach for both of/at least one of them" angle is... Well it's certainly fuckin' compelling that's for sure. Like oops, you let the timeloop malaise get to you and maybe started a trist because you thought you'd be dead before there'd be any lasting consequences. Here's those consequences, motherfucker !! But you won't catch me putting that explicitly in my comics because I don't want to change anything about the raw text of canon when I'm exploring its consequences. However, nothing I do is Incompatible with this read. And I enjoy making things more tortured so. Shrugs and hands this to you. Be free. (....x)

*** those of you that know what i mean by this just had all of it click just now didnt you. lol.

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

hello, Dillo! Could I possibly get some headcannons or scenario (whatever you feel like writing) of a very bubbly, sweet, and awkward s/o that just- refuses to acknowledge they like Dally because they believe he'd never in a million years like them back? Like I'm imagining one day they're chilling with Pony and Johnny and they're not being as funny or playful like usual and the boys ask why and they just whisper "I wish I was Dally's type". So could I possibly just have something with Dally's reaction to it all?

if it's too specific or if you just don't feel like it, don't worry! <3

Not Into You

A/N: Hey, hey! This has been a long time coming, and I think it turned out sort of wonky and weird, but I'm kinda happy with it so I hope you are too! Please enjoy!

“They said what?”

Johnny just shrugs and looks over at Ponyboy, shoving a few more fries in his mouth. The plate in front of him is almost empty already, the small pile of ketchup he’d squirted out almost gone too. Ponyboy shrugs too and takes another sip of his coke. They’re both acting way too calm for what they’ve told Dallas.

“I’m serious,” Dally repeats. “They said that? You’re not kiddin’?”

“Why would we lie about that?” Pony runs his finger around the rim of his glass, pushing the straw around as he goes. “Y/N told us they thought you could never like ‘em back because the two of you are so different.”

Dally chews thoughtfully on his own straw and leans a little farther into the corner of the diner booth. Johnny and Ponyboy look unfazed on the other side of the table, the latter doing his best to steal fries off Johnny’s plate without being caught. It doesn’t work and Johnny sends him a small glare. Ponyboy backs off and takes another drink of his soda.

“You’re bein’ serious, right?” Dallas asks again. “Cause if you’re not, I swear, I’ll kill the both of yous.”

Ponyboy rolls his eyes and Dally has half a mind to reach across the table and smack him upside the head. “We told ya we weren’t, alright? They told us yesterday when we were hangin’ out.”

Sighing, Dally stays in his seat and thinks over what to do next. Stark blue eyes trace the lines of the table and the logo on the side of his drink as he weighs his options and works on making up his mind. When he finally does, he stands up with a smug smirk.

“Where are you headin’, Dal?” Johnny asks. He swats at Ponyboy’s hand without looking away from Dallas when Pony’s fingers stray too close to his fries.

“To find Y/N,” he says simply. “I gotta tell ‘em they were wrong.”

He finds them in the lot, kicking around a can that has definitely seen better days. They look smaller than usual. Shoulders drawn in, head down as they mutter softly to themselves. Dally starts to jog a little to cross the street and that’s when they look up. Their eyes find his and they seem to shrink a little more.

“H-hey, Dallas,” they stutter. One corner of their mouth quirks up in a smile that’s all too forced. “What have you been-,”

They’re cut off as the New Yorker reaches out for them, one hand landing on their hip, the other cupping the side of their face as he brings them close together, his lips landing on theirs. Y/N makes a surprised noise into the kiss but doesn’t pull away, so Dally counts that as a win and doesn’t let go. He’s pleasantly surprised himself when he feels their hands rise to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair and keeping him in place.

When they finally break up, they’re both smiling and breathing heavily.

Y/N looks a little lost, eyes wide and confused as they stare at Dallas, so he figures he ought to try and fix that. He leans in again and they meet him halfway and then they’re kissing again in the wide-open lot.

“You gonna explain somethin’ to me now?” Dally asks after pulling back. His thumb smooths over their cheek and Y/N leans into the touch faster than Dally thought they would. “Why in the world did you think I wasn’t gonna like you? And why did you tell Johnny and Ponyboy instead of talkin’ to me?”

Blushing, Y/N looks down at the ground but Dally gently nudges their face back up with a finger under their chin. He raises an eyebrow expectantly and the action gets a small laugh out of them.

“I just thought,” they started quietly, “that you wouldn't like me. We’re so different, y’know? I’m not really the kind of person you usually go out with. I figured you wouldn’t be into me.”

Dally rolls his eyes and pulls them into a hug, tucking their head into his shoulder. He rocks gently and squeezes them tight before dropping a kiss on their hair.

“You ever think about how none of the people I go out with ever stick around? You ever think that maybe since we’re so different we’d do well together?”

“I guess not.”

“We’ll maybe you should’ve, ya idiot,” Dallas chides without any anger or annoyance in his tone. “Maybe then I could’ve taken you out earlier.”

Y/N looks up at him, wide-eyed and shocked. “You wanna take me out? You’re serious?”

“You don’t wanna go out?”

“No! No, I do, it’s just that- you’re serious, you’re not jokin’?”

Rolling his eyes again, Dally leans in to kiss them again, pausing to talk before he connects his lips with theirs. “I’m gonna take you out. Promise. But right now, I’m just gonna kiss you.”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Take A Fucking Hint

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

Steve is incredibly oblivious to the big hints that his girlfriend drops whenever they kiss and it takes his best friends knocking some sense into him for him to get it.

Warnings: implied smut, fluff, Steve is a naive baby, lots of kissing

WC: 1.5k

Minors DNI

Steve Rogers had his first kiss in 1931. It had been his 13th birthday and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember the girl’s name. But when the fireworks went off, she shyly asked him if he would like a kiss in lieu of a birthday gift. Her lips were chapped and tasted like the cotton candy she had just eaten, it was barely even a peck but Steve thought it was magical.

The next time Steve kissed someone was right above Howard Stark’s lab with an officer who yanked him into a corner, eager to have her way with him. The kiss was tinged with a lust he couldn’t comprehend. He didn’t hate it but he also didn’t like it, it felt wrong to him. A kiss should be an expression of love, he thought, not some desire for someone based only on their body.

Peggy Carter kissed him next. It was in the middle of a battle as they chased down a plane loaded with bombs. It was fuelled with adrenaline and desperation, like they knew they would never see each other again. 

Natasha Romanoff was his next kiss. She teased him relentlessly about it. It was sloppy and unpracticed and very weird considering he thought of the former assassin as a sister. Then, it was Peggy’s great niece Sharon.

But nothing compared to the way you kissed him. You kissed Steve like it was the only thing keeping you alive. You hadn’t been together long, just two months but it was more than enough time for him to fall utterly in love with you. You taught him how to love, how to ask for affection and attention.

But mainly, you taught him how to kiss. Quick pecks when you woke up, both of you still half asleep and with morning breath. Affectionate, have a good day kisses when you left for work. ‘I’m glad you’re alive’ kisses when he returned from missions. And finally, his favourite ones; the ‘I need to feel your body against mine right now’, when your tongues tangled, your breath mingled together as you tried to swallow each other whole, but those always ended as quickly as they started.

You were at the compound with him today, Tony needed your help with engineering a new AI system for the jet. “I don’t know when we’ll finish up tonight so how about you come steal me away for lunch today?” Your hands tugged on the labels of his leather jacket, pulling his body closer to your own. Steve smiled wildly as he looked down at you, so utterly enamoured by your presence.

“Now that is the best idea I’ve heard today.” His hands hovered over your wide hips, not yet touching you. He still struggled with PDA, especially when he was so conflicted as to whether he deserved your touch and wanted to throw you down and have his way with you constantly. Your arms moved up his strong chest to wrap around his neck.

Your eyes were hooded, heavy with desire that sent a shiver through him. “Well then Cap, how about you reward me for having such a good idea.” His lips met your with a practiced ease, a warm feeling filling his gut. Your lips felt like coming home, like a safe place where he could just be. He tilted his head, eager to deepen the kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, your grip on him tightening as the air ignited with a white hot passion. “Hey suckerfish! Break it up! I need my assistant to actually be able to breathe without a geriatric man sucking on her face.” Steve groaned as you pulled away to glare at the billionaire. Tony stood several feet away with his arms crossed over his chest like a disappointed father.

“First off Stark, I am not your assistant. Second, I will kiss my insanely hot boyfriend whenever I want as is my right.” Steve chuckled, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before stepping back and giving you a gentle shove towards the lab doors.

You looked at him clearly offended. “I’ll find you for lunch. Try not to kill Tony.” 

“I’ll kill him if I wanna kill him.” You muttered but walked away anyway, the cutest frown on your face. He chuckled and turned as the doors slid closed behind you, and came face to face with a smug looking Bucky and a disgusted Sam.

“You two are nasty. Why don’t you just fuck at home before work like normal people.” Steve’s face went beat red at Sam’s comment. Bucky guffawed, shoving him with his shoulder.

“Don’t you know they haven’t done the deed yet. Apparently, they’re ‘taking it slow’. Which is just code for Steve has a girlfriend way out of his league and he doesn’t know how to handle it.” 

“Hey!” He objected. “That is our business, not yours. Besides, how do you know we haven’t.” Bucky rolled his eyes at his best friend’s childish retort.

He clapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder. “Oh you poor dumb man, it is incredibly obvious.” Sam joined him on his other side, taking his other shoulder.

“We have so much to teach you.” They guided him away from the lab, intending on educating their lost friend. 

——————

Steve felt like he was in sex ed again, except this was so much worse. They were in one of the many conference rooms on the compound, a white board had been dragged in from a storage room and was now covered in crude drawings that were borderline lewd.

“Now that we have the basics down, you need to understand the nuances of women’s hints.” Sam started but Steve sighed, resting his head in his hands.

“She would have told me if she wanted to have… sex. And she hasn’t so I haven’t gone any further than kissing.” Both men groaned in aggravation. They had been at this for an hour now, trying to get it into Steve’s head that you just wanted to get laid but he wasn’t listening.

“All right, look. What does she do every time you kiss?” The office chair creaked as Steve leaned back in it. His hand scrubbed down his jaw, running over the smooth skin.

“She always pulls me closer to her like she doesn’t want me running away and then puts her arms around my neck.” Bucky nodded thoughtfully, a slightly proud glint in his grey eyes.

“Just as I thought.” Sam muttered, taking a seat right in front of the Captain. “When a woman or whoever does that with the person they are kissing, it’s a signal for the other person to touch them.” Steve’s head tilted questioningly.

“But I do touch her.” 

“Yes but how?” Bucky picked up where Sam left off. “Just her hips?” Steve gave a curt nod. “Ok, next time she kisses you, hold her by the small of her back, or even better, one hand at the base of her neck and the other on her ass. Just trust me.” He patted Steve’s back and walked out of the room like he had just told him the meaning of like.

Sam scoffed but followed him out, yelling down the hall about how much of a drama queen he was being. Bucky retorted but Steve was too lost in his thoughts to consciously hear what they were saying to each other. Maybe he should try it.

——————

As usual with your ‘lunch breaks’ with Steve, he had dragged you into an empty office to make out for a while before you both had to get back to work. And as usual, your arms were around his neck, fingers buried in his short blonde hair as he lightly gripped your hips.

You could live in Steve’s lips. They were always so soft, like he was constantly using chapstick. He tasted like coffee and jam pastries. You let him guide your chin upwards so he could kiss along your soft jaw. But then, he did something new.

His hands moved slowly to the base of your spine, his warm touch making goosebumps erupt all over your body. You moaned quietly into the still air of the office, the sound barely covered by the hum of the air conditioner. 

Apparently the noises you were making gave him an ego boost because suddenly he was holding the back of your neck tightly, keeping your head still as he took what he wanted from you. “Steve!” You gasped and felt him smirk against the skin of your throat. His other hand was placed firmly on your plump ass, something he never dared to try.

Your body thrummed with an arousal you had never felt before. This was an entirely new Steve and you were loving it. “What’s gotten into you, Stevie?” You asked breathlessly. His head lifted from where he had been nibbling on your collarbone, his blue eyes black with desire.

“I learned how to take a hint.” Safe to say that lunch went well into the night.

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[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

౨ৎ good morning ౨ৎ

summary: reader and bucky are very much in love and have their morning routine down to a tee. bucky manhandles the reader a lot but not in a weird way, just in an "i love you and can't live without you" kinda way.

warning: fluffffff (bucky and reader are EXTREMELY in love and love to show it)

wc: 1.8k

pairing: domestic!bucky x reader

a/n: I wrote this between the hours of 11PM-1AM when i was feeling especially psychotic. I am so sleep deprived I’m sorry. But I just came up with this sweet little scenario and had to write it down. This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to daydream.

playlist:

౨ৎ

You opened your eyes, groaning as soft sunlight filtered through your open blinds. You tried remembering the dream you had just abruptly woken up from. Something about a tall, muscular, brown-haired man. The man of your dreams. The man whose arms were now around you from behind, caging you to his warm chest.

You turned around to find Bucky gently stirring in the light of the sunrise. You reached your arms out around his shoulders as he slowly blinked his eyes open. You were both morning people and were glad for it because it meant the two of you were in sync. Neither of you got much sleep, what with Bucky being plagued by his nightmares and you by your insomnia. However, you were in it together, making hell sightly more endurable.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he mumbled with a sweet smile, burying his face in your chest. You squirmed slightly in his arms as his thick beard scratched your chest. You were coming to like his grown-out facial hair. It made him look like a soft teddy bear rather than a violently beautiful Greek god. Yes, you quite preferred this look to his freshly shaven one with his chiseled cheekbones and jawline of steel on full display. With his beard, he looked somewhat more approachable, more domestic, and more lovable than ferociously intimidating.

“Good morning, my moonlight,” you whispered. He was the moonlight to your sunshine, the darkness to your light. He complimented you so perfectly that it sometimes made you want to cry.

Bucky interrupted your thoughts by pulling your body on top of his. “Mmh, I love you so much,” his voice was slightly muffled as his face was still smushed against your chest, and he wrapped his thick arms around your back, securing you in place on top of him.

“I love you too, baby boy,” you combed your fingers through his hair. It was much shorter than it used to be, but it was starting to grow out like his beard. You were not complaining, however. The long summer days the two of you spent swimming in the pool caused his hair to curl at the ends, and it was a lighter shade of brown now than it was during the colder months.

“Wanna stay here with you forever,” Bucky mumbled into your chest, peppering sweet kisses to your neck and jawline before lazily moving his lips all over your face.

“C’mon, Bucky, you say this every morning,” you giggled. “We gotta get up soon, bubs. We have things to do and people to see.” You pushed his face away, scrunching your nose when you caught a whiff of his morning breath.

“They can wait,” he muttered, half-heartedly batting his arm at the air like a petulant child. You almost giggled but caught yourself. You couldn’t encourage him on like this. You actually did have a lot of errands to run later in the day and a long to-do list to accomplish. While you wanted nothing more than to indulge Bucky (because, duh, why would you want to do anything but lay here in your soft bed, basking in the morning light with the man you loved), you knew you needed to be an adult and put your responsibilities first if you wanted to prevent your life from falling apart. You decided to give him ten more minutes. After that, you would force yourself to get up.

You almost fell back asleep, tangled up in his arms. In fact, you probably would have if it hadn’t been for your grumbling stomach. You were past the point in your relationship where this embarrassed you. In fact, you were grateful to your stomach for choosing to be so loud because otherwise, you might not have gotten out of bed all day.

But before you could leap out of bed and berate Bucky for almost making you fall asleep again, he leaped up, carrying you like a child. Of course, he would get up when you were in danger of being hungry. “Can’t let my pretty doll starve, now can I?” he smirked down at you.

“Barnes, you have five seconds to put me down!”

“Five, four, three, two…,” Bucky ran into your shared bathroom, clutching you in his arms like you were a football. “…one! Touchdown!” he plopped you down on the toilet’s closed lid, holding onto your shoulders for balance as he let out a belly laugh.

“I hate you,” but you were smiling a mile wide even as you said it.

“Aw, that’s too bad, doll,” Bucky fake-pouted at you, backing away out of the bathroom. “Because I lava you very very much.” He said the last part in his silliest baby voice, scrunching up his face to give you air kisses as he turned to leave.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help grinning like you had won the lottery. Truthfully, you had won the lottery because if wealth was measured in happiness, you were ecstatic, floating above everyone else. It was the same silly routine every morning, with Bucky forcing you to cuddle him in bed for at least a half hour and then bolting up with you in his arms whenever your stomach grumbled. He knew you were grumpy when you didn’t have any food in you, so he started on breakfast when you got ready in the bathroom. When you offered to switch roles, he said this was optimal since you liked to brush your teeth before breakfast, and he brushed his teeth after. Your heart melted at the memory. Your boyfriend got your breakfast ready for you when you came downstairs. Every single morning, without fail. It was the little things that made you fall in love over and over.

You finished your skincare routine and headed downstairs to find the same scene as every morning: Bucky with a kitchen towel over one shoulder, plating whatever he made for breakfast. Today, he had made a fluffy stack of pancakes and scrambled eggs. He had even gone the extra mile to put spinach and chopped tomatoes in the eggs and had added fresh berries and banana slices on top of the pancakes. The sight of the sticky sweet syrup oozing down the sides of them was enough to make your mouth water.

You snuck up behind him and snaked your arms around his torso. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you punctuated each one with a kiss to his shoulder blades and neck. “Did I tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life?”

“Only about a HUNDRED TIMES A DAY,” he turned around quickly in your arms, grabbing you under the thighs to lift you up. He clasped his arms together, forming a sort of seat in midair. You threw your arms around his shoulders and crashed your lips onto his, melting into him, his pillowy lips warm on yours.

You barely noticed that he had backed into the fridge until you felt the cool metal against your back through Bucky’s thin cotton T-shirt. You continued kissing him voraciously and suddenly remembered Tony scarfing down a Burger King cheeseburger when he had returned from his brief kidnapping in the desert.

You broke away laughing at the mental comparison you made of yourself kissing Bucky to Tony when he was starving after being in the desert.

“Whatcha laughin’ at doll?” Bucky panted, a slight smile creeping onto his lips.

“Oh, nothing,” you panted back. “Just shut up and kiss me.” You were back to business, your lips back on his, feeling like a dog deprived of its bone. Bucky opened the refrigerator door, never once breaking the kiss. You kept your eyes closed, one hand still raking through his soft hair as you used the other to grab the milk carton from the door. You secured it in your hand without faltering, then brought your hand back to rest against his shoulder blade as Bucky shut the door and walked you back over to the counter. Once you safely sat down, you pulled away, gasping for air, desperate as a fish out of water for more of him. His hands were on your hips, his name was on your lips, over and over again like your only prayer.

Bucky grabbed his mug of coffee from where he had left it in the coffee machine and brought it to where you sat, a bright smile adorning his face. You returned the grin and poured a smidge of milk into his cup. When you had first started living together, you were aghast to find that Bucky drank his coffee black without a single drop of milk or spoon of sugar. It had taken some convincing, but you were thrilled when he finally agreed to stop torturing himself and drink his coffee with milk like a normal human being. Although he still used less than a tablespoon of milk and no sugar or creamer, it was a start.

You, on the other hand, were the exact opposite, preferring matcha as your morning drink of choice, which required your mug to be 95% full of milk with the other 5% being, of course, the matcha powder, ice cubes, and copious amounts of honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.

“Oh, I heated up some water and mixed in the matcha powder for you already,” Bucky pointed at the mug beside you, his other hand still warm on your thigh.

“Thank you, bubs,” you leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His cheeks pinked at the suddenness of it, and he ducked his head, shying away from your gaze.

“Aw, it’s nothin’,” he smiled up at you, eyes sparkling beneath his thick lashes. “Here, lemme get you some ice.”

The momentary loss of his hands on your thighs made you whine slightly, but he was back as soon as he left, ice tray in hand.

“Here you are, babycakes.”

You took the tray, beaming at him, then plunked precisely three heart-shaped ice cubes into your cup. You handed the tray back to Bucky, and he left to return it to the freezer before returning to stand between your thighs from where you sat on the countertop. You poured a generous amount of milk into your cup and reached for the honey to drizzle some in. Stirring your drink, you clinked your mug with his before taking your first sip.

You sighed reveling in the mild sweetness of your drink. It was just the way you liked it.

"Alright, doll, let's get some breakfast in you before we run today. We doing intervals or easy?"

"I actually wanted to go for a long run, Buck," you held his gaze from behind your mug.

"Cold plunge after?" he smiled already knowing your answer.

"Yes," you nodded your head vigorously, giddy at the prospect.

౨ৎ

[misstycloud]

Yandere harpy x reader

TW: bad writing

A/N: sorry I’ve been gone for so long. I’ve been so busy and had no energy at all. But all the exams are over now so I’ll have more time to write now yay! I threw this jumpscare story together for you, sorry if it sucks.

Anyway, let’s welcome bird boy to the club! ;)

————

It was scary how much it resembled a human in some ways, yet you knew it definitely wasn't. From the moment you laid eyes on it, it was clear the creature was male. Which contradicted what you knew about it, for it wasn't the first time you had seen such a being. They were featured in a lot of myths, records of their appearance and power.

Harpy, that's what it was. At least, that's what you think. It was the closest you could come up with that resembled the bird-man you met. The upper body and head was human. He, the harpy, had a thick mane of tangled, dark hair. Due to all the exercises he must go through on a daily basis, his chest was well muscled and firm. If it were anyone else, you'd love to take a good look, but that was not the case.

His humanity ended there. On his back, sat a pair of large, strong wings. They too, were dark in colour. Legs did he not have either, not human ones at least. The bird feet had sharp talons that made you anxious whenever you looked at them, even though you knew he'd probably not use them against you.

And thank god you didn't have to see his private parts, that was thanks to the ruffled feathers covering the area. It would be a lot harder to handle him if he walked around with his bird dick hanging out.

This left the confusion, if he really was a harpy, then why did he appear so different. One, he was a male, which none of the harpies in the myths were, there they were all female. Also, he seemed more human like than them, physically that is. In the Greek stories, harpies are depicted as birds with the heads of women.

Crouching down and leaning against the cave wall, you try to avoid glancing at the approaching form. A coo left him, directed at you. You ignored it, there was no way you'd willingly indulge in its desire. When he received no reaction from you, he frowned, nudging you with his head.

When he had returned from his outing and noticed you weren't in the nest he'd created, his first thought was that you had fallen off the cliff connected to his cave in the tall mountain where he'd settled down. He was horrified at the image of you inching closer the the ledge, standing there and glancing down until suddenly the ground under you gave away and crumbled.

He shuddered. You would never have any reason to be scared as long as he is near, for he will do whatever it takes to protect you, his mate. His sweet, innocent mate. The male harpy had never seen someone like you before, but you were very similar to him. Except the wings and instead having those weird naked legs and arms, of course. How unpractical it was, having no wings.

There's no way you could fly like that! Maybe you were defected from birth? He felt sorry for you, you must have led a very hard life. Not being able to hunt for yourself or protect from predetors that wished ill intent upon you. Oh, dear. In the harpy world, should one of the chicks be weaker, it was inevitable the others wouldn't abandon them.

Not even those males you were with when he found you, showed any indication of protecting you. Unworthy, they were. They didn't deserve company from a female as lovely as you. He doesn't care about your defects,which is much more than he could say for the other males.

They were also strange looking with the same differences from him like you, but it didn't mean they should be allowed to slack of their responsibilities. He was glad he got rid of them. Now you could live with someone who actually knew how to take care of their partner.

"Stop it.." you whispered in defiance, wishing he would just let you be. Of course that would not happen.

The creature kept trying to usher you into the giant nest made from twigs. He always seemed the happiest when you were in it, you supposed it was some kind of instinct engraved in his bird-brain. You weren't dumb, you understood the signals and behaviours he was exhibiting.

The fond touches, protectiveness, trying to feed you, and the special dance he'd preform in front of you. You could see how he felt when you refused to move along with him. But why should you care about his feelings when he obviously had no regards for yours, if he did he would not have murdered your friends in cold blood.

You shrieked in surprise, the harpy lifted you up and was walking towards the bed made of natural elements. Gently, he set you down in it and you watched as he went and grabbed the dead carcass of a rabbit. It wasn’t there previously which meant he must have caught it recently, when he was out.

You frowned and pushed it away when he offered it to you. There was no chance you’d eat it, it was raw and you’d rather not catch anything. Then there was also a part of your pride you wished to protect, if you ate it meant giving in. Until now you had managed to avoid consuming anything he gave you. Although, you did eat when you absolutely had too, and in those cases it was fruits and nuts you still had in your backpack. But they were beginning to run out. You were grateful that you were able to keep your bag, when he first took you, what if he had thrown it out?

The male cawed at your defiance and entered the nest as well, placing himself behind you and pulling you into his lap. Protectively, he formed his wings around you, in the process making it slightly darker and harder to see. It was something he loved doing. Another one of his instincts you supposed. It made him feel like a worthy mate, someone who can protect you and provide. He ruffled his feathers in pleasure at the thought.

You winced as he dug into the flesh of the deceased animal, ripped out a bloody chunk and tried to make you eat it. “No, I don’t want that.” You said in a firm tone.

The harpy made multiple attempts, all failing of course. In the end, he leaned down, looking at you with a sad face while shaking you lightly, but you refused. He stared thoughtfully at the meat chunk for a while before gobbling it up himself.

Good, you thought and went on to ignore the male currently holding you previously. At least he won’t pester me about it anymore. However, you were deeply wrong about that.

It wasn’t long until weird sounds began erupting from him, you glanced back at him with suspicion. He was gagging and it hit you, he was going to throw up! You tried to pry his arms off you and escape to oncoming accident, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Let go of me! I’m not letting you puke all over me, you stupid bird!” You nearly wanted to throw up yourself at the thought.

You quickly looked away when he leaned over his hand and coughed up a slimy red substance into it. The meat he consumed earlier had been turned to a big mucky goo. It was the most disgusting thing you’d ever seen. But what almost made you faint was when he pushed it towards you.

“No, no, no, no!” You exclaimed in protest.

The male’s brows furrowed at your action and demonstrated an eating gesture with the chewed down flesh.

“Yes, I know you want me to have it but I must decline.” You simply wanted nothing to do with it, sadly he did not appear to understand that.

Having read bird relating books before, you also recognised this behaviour. It was called regurgitation and was when parents feed their chicks by partially digesting food from their own stomachs and then transfer it to their chicks.

The harpy male could not comprehend the reason why you did not eat his catch of the day. He could hear the sounds emitting from your stomach so you were obviously hungry, so why? In the beginning he thought that maybe you didn’t know how to eat it, so he decided to help you and rip off a piece. When you still didn’t do anything, he chose to help you further through first digesting the food in his stomach and then give it to you. Unfortunately you did not seem too happy about that, going as far as to reject his hold and try to flee to another part of the cave.

The whole thing made him incredibly pessimistic. He only wished to take care of you! The male had never had a mate before since harpies mate for life, and he didn’t know it would be so difficult to have one. He didn’t regret you or anything, but he couldn’t deny you were a little harder to care for. It wasn’t your fault, of course. The ones he blamed were your parents, they must have been horrible to you because you didn’t look like a normal harpy.

His blood boiled at the thought. However, that wouldn’t matter anymore, because he won’t let you be alone now that he is here.

When nightfall came, you were forcefully wrapped in his embrace again like he has done ever since he brought you to his home. You two were laying down in the nest, your back to his chest, one of his wings under you to create a more comfortable bedding and one wing over you for a blanket. One of the harpy’s feet was gripping your calf in a secure hold, hindering you from sneaking off. Although, his arms around your waist were a pretty good chackle too. You hated to admit it, but it was actually quite nice.

His feathers were softer on the inside of his wings and very warm. Because of the height you were at, there would sometimes be strong winds which caused you to freeze. Your saviour would then be your kidnapper. He would appear and cover you with his feathers to keeep you heated. You could see how much he enjoyed it when it happened. Not very surprising, really, since it was the only time you’d allow him close.

Oh how you wanted to wipe that smile off his face.

[pinkiemachine]

Superman: Origin Story! 🎉

Part one involving what became of Krypton and the rest of the El family will be linked below.

Lara and Cal crash landed together on Earth (specifically, outside of Smallville Kansas) in the summer of 1977 with their escape pod badly damaged, and Lara bleeding out. As luck would have it, a young couple was driving through that part of the country and saw what they thought was a plane of some sort crash land. John Kent jumped out of the car and went to check to see if there were survivors and found a Kryptonian escape pod, steaming and smoking, with a woman and baby inside. Lara could tell that she didn’t have much time. Attempting to speak to John (though, he didn’t understand her language) she asked that he would take care of her son and bring help. Along with Cal, she also gave John a small, hand-held device that he couldn’t figure out the purpose of. Then… she died.

John was left standing there, not knowing what to do for a few seconds. Ultimately, he figured he ought to bury the body out of respect, so he ran back to his wife to give her the baby. By that point, though, there were already dark shapes on the horizon. Martha spotted them. Black helicopters. The Kents got in their car and sped away as quickly as they could, not wanting to get tangled up in whatever conspiracy this was. John didn’t take them back to house that night. Instead, they kept driving until they reached his sister Emma’s house where they would lay low for a while.

Martha was still holding baby Cal and she couldn’t bear to let him go. She had suffered a miscarriage just a week before and immediately fell in love with the boy. There would be no getting rid of him now. They decided to name him Clark, after a word John thought that the woman in the pod had tried to say to him.

After the black helicopters had gone, and after the crashed pod had mysteriously disappeared, John and Martha went back home and continued on with life. Naturally, they had a million questions, but answers would be very tricky to supply unless they wanted to poke their noses into uncertain places. So they kept to themselves. Clark, meanwhile, was growing up fast and strong. Literally. By the time he was two, he was lifting things he really shouldn’t be able to, running faster than they could keep up with, and falling out trees on purpose (not sustaining any injuries) because it was fun. This was their first inkling that Clark might not be human. (After all, Kryptonians do look a lot like humans.)

I would also like to mention that in this version, Clark has siblings. Yes, a few years after saving Clark, Martha gave birth to another son, Micheal. Then came Sean, then Rueben, and finally Suzie. They all worked together on their father’s farm, though it was kind of an open secret who did most of the work. Clark would out-perform his brothers constantly, and it had become quite the sore spot in the family. But, when the tractor breaks down, who’re you gonna call to get it back to the barn? Probably the superhuman son who can lift it with one hand and fly. They did have a lot of good times as well. They got up to so much stupid stuff…heheh… story for another time.

Clark was told from a young age that he was allowed to use his powers on the farm, but nowhere else. Especially not in town. John and Martha were worried the black helicopters might come back. So Clark did his best, but rumours still abounded. Some of the other kids in his class at school even called him an “alien” because of how weird he acted sometimes. Naturally, he had been told his origins by this point. When he was six, his parents sat him down and explained about the pod and his mother and John gave him the small device that Lara had given him. The moment Clark touched it, it activated. It was a holo-photo projector, and it displayed a portrait of the El family, baby Clark included. This was proof that Clark was from the stars, and from that moment onward, he became obsessed with outer space. By the time he was in middle school, he had star maps and rocket posters pinned up in his room, he tracked down every scrap of alien news and conspiracy theories that he could find, and tried to send out radio signals into deep space with his own dinky, homemade system in the family tree house. He loved his adoptive family, he did, but he also wanted to know what had happened to the rest of his birth family. Were they out there? Did they know where he was? That he was alive? He had so many questions!

Alas, time flew by, and no answers appeared. He had a falling out with one of his brothers (involving Clark losing control and accidentally hurting one of the family dogs with his laser vision) and after high school he left to get a degree in investigative journalism, later taking a job at the Daily Planet in Metropolis. He still talked to his brothers and sister and Ma and Pa, but he felt alienated. He didn’t really belong anywhere. That’s why this job was so important. He would scour the ends of the Earth to find answers.

Little did he know, though, that the escape pod and Lara’s body had been taken by the government and were being experimented on. Head of the classified project currently: Amanda Waller. Most invested investor: Lex Luthor.

Part one here 👇

[livwritesstuff]

Just in connection to my reply to one of your posts with little baby Moe (Okay she wasn't a baby but you get it.)

I really, really need some scenes with the girls (all of them or one by one) where they tell Steve (and Eddie too) how amazing he is as a dad. Not as teeny tiny children but rather as teenagers or even as young adults. Just genuine love between them, no ulterior motives.

Because I feel like Steve NEEDS that too. Every now and then. I know parents always have moments where they feel like they've fucked up or that their children don't really like them. And I feel like Steve could spiral about these things on a bad day. Eddie telling him that the girls love him to pieces doesn't help a lot on these days, I believe (You can correct me since it's definitely your universe and your Steve and Eddie).

So I'm just asking, very VERY politely :))), what you think those moments could look like and what the girls would say or why Steve even feels like he failed them. (Okay that's a LOT I'm asking of you, I'm sorry.) Just see where the flow takes you, if it does.

Thank you thank you thank you 🥰🥰🥰🥰

HAZEL

Steve was home alone with the kids because Eddie was away for a few days of work meetings in New York. The second day of Eddie’s absence, Steve was hit with a killer migraine – his first really bad one in a while – so he set the girls up with a movie (a long one) to give himself a couple hours to try sleeping it off.

A while later, he woke up to an alarm blaring – weird, he’d thought in the moment because he probably wouldn’t have set a loud alarm for a migraine nap (seems a little counter-intuitive), but everything about his brain was foggy so who's to say.

Then, outside the door, he heard this exchange between his two oldest daughters.

Moe: Papa can turn it off.

Robbie: But we’ll get in trouble.

Robbie: It’s on fire.

Half-convinced he was dreaming, he got up and followed the girls into the kitchen where, yep, the microwave was on fire. All Steve really remembers is unplugging it and leaving it to the elements outside.

Turns out Moe had wanted to make mac and cheese (which she knew how to do – they’d actually been about to graduate her to toaster privileges until this incident) and it had been a fluke timer-based accident.

Eddie had thought coming home to a melted microwave in their driveway was hilarious, but Steve was seriously rattled about it because it was the first time he'd felt like something had happened because of a failing on his part. He shouldn't have let himself succumb to the migraine, he should have pushed through it to be there for the girls, but he’d let himself slip and then they set the goddamn microwave on fire.

The same day he got back from his trip, Eddie went out and bought a new microwave (even though it’s one of those purchases Steve would normally handle because he doesn’t trust Eddie for a second to not buy the dumbest appliances he can find), and he took all three girls with him so Steve could have a bit of time alone. When they all returned an hour or two later, the sheer volume and amount of excitement they brought with them pretty much confirmed for Steve that whatever microwave Eddie bought had way more bells and whistles than any person on Earth could possibly need.

Steve didn’t go downstairs to greet them and not too long later, the door to his and Eddie’s room opened, and then three-year-old Hazel was climbing into bed and snuggling up close to him.

“There’s a new microwave,” she told him in her matter-of-fact way she reported on everything that happened in her world.

“I know,” he replied, running a hand through her tangled blonde curls (unlike Robbie, Hazel’s tolerance for “hair time”, as they call it, is pretty much rock-bottom – her hair is more frizz than curls these days and Steve is figuring out how to cope).

“Daddy wants to turn the old one into a diagram,” she continued.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows.

“A diagram?” he repeated.

“He wants to put all the melted spoons in and make them look cool and put it on a shelf.”

Oh – also, no fucking chance. Not in Steve’s kitchen.

“I think he said diorama, Haze.”

Hazel nodded.

Then she said, “You were like a firefighter.”

Steve refrains from pointing out that he shouldn’t have needed to be like a firefighter in the first place (because that would be putting his own issues onto his children and he doesn’t want to do that), even though he knows it’s true. He should have been there.

“You’re the best dad ever,” Hazel continued.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” she nods, and she’s just as matter-of-fact now as she was before, and she’s sitting on his chest in a way that has her little knees digging into his ribs, which should hurt but instead feels like a tether to the real world he can grasp onto and pull himself out of his head.

 “You think we should go check out this microwave?” he asks, starting to sit up.

Hazel nods.

“Alright, let’s go.”

MOE

When Moe was 21 – a junior in college in New York City – she and her best friend since kindergarten, Gray, started dating (finally, in Steve’s opinion, because he’d seen that coming for ages).

Steve and Eddie have known Gray for as long as Moe has, and they’ve watched Gray grow up nearly as much as their three daughters – as a kindergartener with freckles and dark brown pigtails, as a middle-schooler tearfully coming out as non-binary knowing they’d have to hide it from their family, as a high school senior, still with all those freckles, eager for the fresh start that college would bring.

It was nice to be for Gray (and for a handful of their daughters’ other friends over the years) something that Eddie and Steve had needed when they were their age – a place where they could be themselves without any consequences, a place where they didn’t have to hide, because sometimes, as was the case for Gray for many years, you have to hide. It’s nice to have a safe haven where you don’t.

During Moe and Gray’s senior year of college, the pair made plans to come home for their final spring break. When that first week of March finally rolled around, Moe called from the train to tell them that Gray was finally pulling the trigger – finally coming out to their parents, finally telling them about their relationship with Moe.

“Are they sure,” Steve had asked – not because he doubted Gray but because he hadn’t been too much older when he’d taken that leap for himself and he’d felt the subsequent loss of his parents like mourning a death.

“Positive,” he’d heard Gray reply.

Three hours after their train dropped Moe and Gray off at the Wellesley Farms station, Steve and Eddie heard the back door open. A moment later, Moe trailed in with something heavy in her eyes.

“How’d it…” Eddie started to ask from where he and Steve sat on the couch, but he stopped when Moe shook her head.

“Not over yet,” she told them, “Gray made me leave. It’s a fucking trainwreck.”

And even though he knew that was always going to be the outcome, Steve’s heart still sank.

“Damn,” Eddie commented while Steve shook his head, “They’ll always have a home with us, but…”

“Yeah,” Moe nodded, “Still sucks.” 

Steve recognizes something of his own experience in that – he feels so damn grateful that Jim and Joyce had slid into that parent role for him, especially after he’d become estranged from his actual parents in his mid-twenties. Still, they weren’t his parents, and Steve would’ve never not wanted his parents to pull through like they should have.

Moe sat down on the couch between her dads.

“Why did Gray make you leave?” Steve asked (even though he had a sneaking suspicion why).

“Uh…” Moe paused, pushing her blonde bangs back, “Well, I wouldn’t say I was yelling, exactly, but…I dunno. If you ask Gray they might tell you I was yelling.”

Yep, that seems about right.

“I just,” Moe continued, “I know Gray was prepared for this – for their parents, like, rejecting all of this – and I know they’ve always totally sucked so this was obviously how this was gonna go, but I think I had a hard time seeing it because I’d never really had to consider what it would be like for that to happen.”

Moe shook her head, her bangs falling right back into her eyes, and Steve had to resist the urge to ask if she wanted his help trimming them like he’d done when she was little.

“I just mean – it never made a difference to you who me and Haze and Robbie were or what we did. You just, like, love us regardless…and always, y’know? I never had to imagine anything happening to make that stop, and I never had to consider that it might not be like that for everyone.”

She paused again, this time for a while, her eyes trained on the carpet as she fiddled with cuffs on her jeans. 

And then Moe looked Steve dead in the eye.

“You’re the best dads,” she said, “and I’m really, really lucky.”

ROBBIE

There were eight hours between Steve and Eddie finding out their fifteen-year-old daughter had been in a car crash during a school trip to Disney World and when they finally made it down to the hospital in Orlando she’d been taken to. There were another agonizing two before Robbie woke up.

When she did, her eyes groggily blinked open, and she looked blankly around the hospital room for a moment, and then she saw them.

Then her pale face crumples and suddenly she’s crying.

And that had Steve’s heart plummeting even faster than the phone call from hell he’d gotten eight hours earlier, because Robbie doesn’t cry.

He can’t remember the last time he’d seen her cry – not since she was a baby, anyway. She’d cried constantly as a baby, but the second she had a firm enough grasp on the English language it had ceased entirely, replaced by an endless stream of words – demands and trains of thought and exclamations and everything in between.

Eddie had joked that she’d only ever been crying out of frustration over not being able to tell them what she needed, and as soon as she could tell them, she had no use for it anymore, so seeing Robbie sobbing – the kind of crying where no sound could come out, where she was barely breathing, where her tears were soaking her cheeks and staining the collar of the hospital gown someone had changed her into – it practically had Steve crying himself.

After a few minutes of we’re here and you’re okay and what do you need, Robbie had tearfully admitted, “I need a hug,” and then she’d broken down again.

She wasn’t exactly in any position to get up, obviously, so Steve had taken off his shoes (because even through tears she’d still side-eyed his sneakers) and slid onto the hospital bed so he could pull Robbie into his arms just like he used to do when bad dreams woke her up in the middle of the night.

Later, when Eddie was just outside the hospital room talking to the nurse and the chaperone for the trip about the accident and how the school was planning on moving forward in the aftermath, Robbie finally spoke.

“Papa,” she said, her face pressed into his shoulder.

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’m sorry.”

Steve looked down at his daughter.

“Robbie, you don’t need to–”

“Not for this. For…just, like, in general. You–”

She paused, and Steve let her.

“I just mean…” she continued, “I haven’t been, like, good lately, and I’m sorry.”

Steve didn’t know what to say.

She’s not exactly wrong – it’s true that Robbie had been a total piece of work lately, especially since she started high school, especially since she got bumped up to the senior-level band class because she’s that good at the violin (which he and Eddie had been thrilled about initially until they realized it meant she was making friends with high school seniors) – but Steve didn’t exactly know how best to explain to her that up until this, up until she’d nearly died because of it and no matter how much Steve didn’t like it, it was normal.

It was normal for teenagers to do dumb shit, to hurt themselves, to hurt others, to drive their parents goddamn insane with worry. It wasn’t normal for them to nearly end up dead because of it, and this time it wasn’t really even her fault.

It sort of reminded him of Nancy in a way, of how Nancy had never been the same again after what happened to Barb, how Nancy had never let herself be a dumb teenager, never let herself relax, even though picking a boy over a friend was normal. Sneaking out and drinking during a badly-supervised school trip was normal. Sure, there were supposed to be consequences but there shouldn’t be a goddamn death toll.

“I know, Bean,” he finally said, something about the situation pulling out a nickname for her that he hadn’t used in a long time (because when she was born, Moe had turned Robin into Robbean and the rest was history).

“You’re really good to me,” Robbie whispered, “You and dad are so good to me, and I’m not always good back, and I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need you to be sorry,” Steve told her because, for right now at least, it was true, “Just…just stick around long enough to work with us, okay?”

Robbie nodded.

“Okay.”

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hiii i love ur writing so i have a request for tommy shelby but its kinda weird so feel free to ignore it so this is how it goese

Readrer and tommy are childhood friends and he always loved her but didnt tell her andd one day the reader gets with someone and they do the deed and tommy finds out and also he kinda like brags it to tommy so he gets angry and either kills him or hurt him badly and when she finds out shes like super angry n screaming cursing like full angst but then a happy ending after a few years or anything basically ill leave it up to u

Thank you

Love

Hey Anon,

Thank you for this cute request. I really tried for angsty but may have failed slightly. Hope you still enjoy it and thank you for waiting so so so long. <3

Warnings: Cursing, fighting, happy ending, descriptions of panic

Tommy was sure that his life was comprised of inconvenient moments. He was born early, setting the rest of his life off balance. Everything happened a few moments too late or too soon. He was used to struggling enough as it was but this bad luck weighed heavily on his shoulders today.

The current moment he was caught on, was you getting stuck on the opposite side of the city, making you miss his train departing for the war. The exact moment he was going to kiss you and tell you to wait for him. A situation that could have been completely avoided if he’d just listened to Arthur and asked you out ages ago. 

He’d had to wait for your letter that was delivered wrongly three times before finally finding him. His annoyance was buried under the relief he felt knowing you’d not stood him up. Just got tangled up in his bad luck. He had a moment where he was tempted to write back. Confess everything. The thought that he’d not be able to see you react prevented him from writing anything of meaning. What if he wrote you something soul-baring and it destroyed his only friendship outside his family? In person he could be casual and see if you showed interest, then he could proceed to the soul-baring nonsense. 

He just had to make it out of this alive. 

Getting home he almost regretted that choice. He was broken, and you were hardened by the hardship of running things with Pol, but still very much intact. 

Your eyes and bright smile seemed to follow him everywhere. So much of himself had sunk away. The realization that if he took you, he’d have to share you with his ominous bad luck. A belief that was only further reinforced by the obvious interactions with his family. No matter how much he tried. Someone always needed you or wanted in on the conversation. 

Feeling defeated and jaded he got lost in his plans to push the business, something he thought was productive till it created a larger rift in the family. A divide you’d not chosen a side for yet. 

Just when things had really spun out of control a large sum of inventory fell into his lap. One of great importance to the government. 

All that running around and yet he still noticed the way you left work that evening, hair and makeup done. Fancy dress. Everything for someone else. 

He rarely had feelings anymore, but when he watched you greet him on the sidewalk a sharp pain emerged in his chest. One that he hoped would grow to consume him whole before sending him to the grave. 

But he was granted no such luck. 

____

Three days and you’d been off in your own thoughts, thoughts about someone else when all he could do was think about you. 

“Alright, Tom?” You’d asked putting the kettle on. 

“Fine.” He answered in an even tone before pulling out a cigarette. 

“Things between us-” Your words grabbed his interest just as John came through the kitchen entry. 

“Got a lot of folks down there, help Pol.” He asked you easily before moving to take your spot at the stove. You gave him a look. He had no idea what it meant but he felt stupid thinking it was anything at all. You hurried down the stairs. 

“What’s that about?” John asked pouring the hot water into the worn tea pot.  

“I’d know if you didn't interrupt her.”

“Don’t like that new fella of hers,” John said ignoring him. 

“Why?” Tommy hoped there would be a valid reason. Something he could save you from before stealing you away. 

“He’s not you.” John laughed. “If I knew you were going to leave her up for grabs, I would have snagged her ages ago.” 

Tommy didn't have the energy to respond. He only picked up the newspaper and went back to sulking. 

_______________________

The day ended in the Garrison. Some Irish broad decided to sing a song meaning it was his time to leave before he burnt the place down. Getting up from the nook he gave John a nod and they both moved outside. 

“What a bunch o’ whining,” John muttered pulling out a cigarette, Tommy did the same. They both stood there enjoying the cold air when he noticed a few men approaching from further up the alleyway.

“Shelby!” One of the men called out. He was clearly high on liquid courage as his voice slurred. Tommy turned in his direction catching the look of enjoyment on John’s face. 

The men continued shouting till they finally came out of the shadows. The tallest man was unmistakable and for once he was more excited for a fight than John was. 

“What you on about?” John asked flicking his cigarette at them. 

“Slept with your sweetie! Billy Kimber sends his regards.” The men began laughing and Tommy felt a small flicker of something growing in his chest. 

It didn’t take much from him and John before the men were badly bloodied. 

“You leave what’s mine alone. Now give my regards to Mr. Kimber.” He spat on them as John pulled him back, looking down at them he wondered if they were dead. 

He on the other hand felt very much alive. A momentary sense of victory washed over him and let out a breath he’d been holding for what felt like years. 

They enjoyed the cold walk back to the flat, his mind on high alert thinking of all the possible outcomes that could be around the corned. Seeing you sitting with Polly at the kitchen table made everything in his head fall silent. 

He’d slept with her because of him. 

You and Pol sprung into a million questions. He thought about telling you but decided to descend the stairs up to his room. 

“Tom” John’s voice called out from the landing and he looked down at him over the railing. He made a bunch of gestures that translated to something along the lines of  “This is your shot with her - stop fucking it up.”

“Later.” He said quietly before continuing up the stairs. He needed to think of a plan. 

Kimber was already all over them, Campbell right behind him. Then there was the Lee family. Finally, the mob boss of all the problems, how angry you were going to be when you found out. 

He sat there on the bed, the pain from the hits he’d not avoided starting to sink in. 

________________________________________________________________________

Reader POV 

You were conflicted about Tommy. Well, you were always conflicted about Tommy these days. You were overwhelmed with joy and felt sure that he’d not waste any time with you once he’d gotten home. 

You gave him a timeline in your mind. If he didn't ask you out within the first month of being back you’d move on. 

Easier said than done. Especially when he and John come home looking like they’d just slaughtered a bunch of pigs. All for the mystery business Tom was conducting behind your back. 

You sighed and said good night to Pol before walking home. You were waiting for one of the boys to do it, but that didn't look likely. You were about to tie your jacket when Arthur came downstairs. 

“Walk you home, love.” He said while opening the front door. 

“Thanks.” You said before following him out into the darkness. You rarely spent alone time with the eldest Shelby and wondered what you would talk about. You set out down the street wishing you’d brought an extra sweater. 

“Now, I know you're probably mad about what went down. But there's a few things you gotta understand ‘bout Thomas.” 

“Oh?” You didn't know what he was going off about but decided to play along. 

“He means well, just gets all twisted up inside his big head. Wants to get the family out of this” He waved his hand around, gesturing to the heaps of garbage spilling out of a dumpster in the alley they were passing. “ I don't think he wants to bring you any closer to himself in case you get hurt in the process.”

“Look while all of you were gone I was in the line of fire more than anyone ‘round here. I can handle myself” You growled tired of always being brushed off and looked down on. Amusement flashed in Arthur's eyes but he knew better than to let it reach his face. 

“I know love, I’m just telling you he loves you he’s just at war with him self -” 

“He loves me?” You stopped in your tracks and turned to Arthur. His face flushed obviously realizing he’d said too much. 

“We’ll I - I thought that was a bit obvious - ya know” He shrugged while looking up at the sky awkwardly looking for the right words to fix things. “Why else would he do that?” 

“Do what? Be distant and miserable?”

“Well yeah, that’s what it's like for us blokes” He shook his head “No, I mean he almost killed that bloke for ya. Working for Kimber this whole time, John said it was a blood bath - Havent had to pull him off someone like that in - well, possibly ever.” 

Your stomach knotted up painfully and you looked at Arthur in disbelief. 

“Don’t beat yourself up lamb, men are truly awful creatures if not tamed by the right crowd -” Arthur trailed off but you stopped listening. That bastard - he lied - or is Tommy lying? 

No way he was working for Kimber - this was just Tommy, trying to get his way the only way he knew how. You felt the anger bubble up inside you. 

“I’m going to kill him,” You said breathlessly as hot rage started to spill over the edges of your mind. 

“Ah Women -” You slapped Arthur’s arm before turning and running back towards the apartment. You threw the door open and ascended the stairs. Polly stepped out of her bedroom looking startled in her nightgown. 

“What the -” She started but her voice was drowned out by the blood pounding in your ears. You opened his door and saw him perched on the side of his bed. He’d changed and cleaned himself up, his face looking at you with a concerned expression. 

“YOU MOTHER FUCKER-” You shouted and something heavy dislodged itself from your chest causing a long stream of abuse to fall out of your mouth.. You hated how well he took it. Sitting there, watching you patiently on his bed with an unamused expression. It drove you insane, the way his eyes followed you. You’d kicked off your shoes and thrown them in his direction. 

“You can’t just make up stories and beat people up because your too cowardly to do the right thing. If you liked me then you should have loved me. Been kind to me, been there for me. Instead you just - you just - act like a fucking monster all the time -” You’d been throwing things around the room a large vase smashed at your feet.

“You don’t love me and he doesn't work for Kimber.” You said finally, looking down at the glass surrounding your sock-covered feet. Slight miscalculation. Your eyes were filled with tears and despite wanting to shout a thousand more curses at him, your throat had closed up tightly. 

He stood up and moved towards you. His hands picked you up by the arms and you were too startled by his calm nature to do anything other than let him move you. He placed you on top of his bed, you looked down at him only slightly taller than him with the bed under you. 

He pinched your jaw and looked you dead in the eye. 

“I do love you.” He said firmly and you couldn't bring yourself to look away from his wide eyes. Filled with things you hadn't seen in so many years. 

“This is my fault, you understand? I should have told you long before you fell into his grip. My fault - so I’ll apologize.” You watched him carefully. “I’m sorry.” His voice was low and his breath brushed across your face. 

You were too consumed with his close proximity to feel the full weight of his words. His eyes held you in a way that made you know you were seen. You had all of his attention. 

“I want proof.” You murmured under direct order from the one part of your brain that was still functioning. He put the final nail in the coffin when he gave you a small crooked smile. 

“Then I’ll get you proof.” He said back, amusement plain on his face. With your jaw still trapped between his fingers you felt him press his lips to yours. There was a starving neediness that had been weighing on you both for so many years. No amount of kissing or passion could possibly satisfy the feelings inside of you. You grabbed for him and held him as close to you as possible. All that anger only intensified the heat that was radiating through your body. 

He pulled away from you and your fingers started to work open the top button of his shirt. His hand grabbed both of yours and his eyes caught yours again. 

“Stay here, alright. Wait for me, for the last time eh?” 

“Why?” 

“Going to go get your proof.” He moved away from you and you stepped off the bed. “Stay.” He motioned to the bed. “Lots is going to happen tonight. But I need you to run things tomorrow with Pol. Keep the place a float.” 

“Alright, when will you be back?” You started to get angry again at his secret keeping. 

“To try and sort things between Kimber, then hopefully deal with Campbell. Won’t be gone long - Keep the place safe, take the gun in the drawer. Keep it on you at all times.” 

You nodded at him then watched the back of him walk away like so many times before. Something settled in your bones. 

The next three days it was like in the war, back up at all times waiting for something to happen. But on the third night, he finally came back to you. The door opened and you saw him move into the small bathroom to clean himself off. 

He pushed you across the bed and climbed in beside you. You looked as he handed you a piece of folded paper. There were bloody fingerprints soaked into the paper making you wish you had a hanker chief to cover your fingers. 

Opening it you could tell it was a pay stub made out to that idiot, signed by none other than Billy Kimber. Your stomach twisted painfully, and you wished you had a mother to tell. Someone that knew the embarrassment and shame, someone to tell you how to carry it. You wished this could have been some normal heartbreak where you can push it down and never speak of it again, but here it was on display. 

“Oh.” You whispered not knowing what else to do. 

“There’s your proof.” He said a faint sound of victory in his tired tone. His reaction made you angry all over again, but before you could lay into him about thinking this was funny he put his arms around you pulling you against his chest. “Finally fucking won one.” He let out a long breath. 

“What do you mean?” You whispered. They won the war, won various street fights, they’d really rarely lost. 

“Been trying to ask you since we were 12.” He mumbled placing a kiss to your neck that made your heart flutter. You let out a small laugh. “Now I won’t have another day where I'm not beside you. No war, no work here you don't know about or can't handle. Nothing between us.” His words warmed your heart, and years of pain fell from his features. He sounded like your best friend again, filled with dreams and wonder. 

“Except clothes.” You said in a coy tone. His eyes opened and he took no time manhandling you causing a much-needed loud laugh to escape from your chest.

[eri-pl]

Melian saw the darkness in Thingol's eyes and married him anyway

Long, chaotic stream of thought below cut (no, nobody owes anybody a relationship)

I'm not saying Idril should have married Maeglin, or whatever. I'm perfectly fine with "Idril didn't want to date Maeglin because she was not into it, and/or he was her cousin and whatever". She had every right not to. Same as everyone.

I'm just saying "saw the darkness in his eyes" is a very weird way of phrasing it. Especially when we look at the three cases of "darkness in eyes" (all essentially fatal):

Melkor (seen by Varda, in the context of romantic rejection)

Feanor (seen by Galadriel in the context of I have no idea) (also I'm sure Nerdanel wasn't blind either. But, as I said, "darkness in eyes" is not a good reason to not get in a relationship, not by itself. "I can't handle this darkness" is a good reason. Nerdanel could handle a lot)

Maeglin (seen by Idril, in the context of romantic rejection)

What do those three have in common?

One of the interpretations (not the one where Thingol easily fits however) is "they're great, best they can, but still not good enough":

Melkor is the most Vala, but he was also the first Vala and he "grew up" being the only finite being he new. and he hated it, he despised himself for being less (it is clear to me from the description of his obsessio with the Flame etc)

Feanor was the most Elf to even elf, but also Finwe wanted more kids, so obviously Feanor got the message that he wasn't enough.

Maeglin was brilliant, and an only child, but also his father was the super-stern, avoidant-attachment tangle of cold trauma that was Eol. I'm sure he got a consistent message of "you aren't enough".

So, there's this inherent not-enoughness. (How is this a reason to not date someone??? I mean, sure, it results in behaviors and problems, but really, really, we could phrase those rejections differently.)

(Or maybe it was "she saw he's going to be evil" but I hate this concept, it rubs wrong with free will to me)

Am I bashing Tolkien? Not really. You know, what vibe I get from those darknesses? CSL's relationship to Susan. You know, "the character he obviously hated". The character he based most on himself.

"Saw the darkness in his eyes" (and hated him for it) really feels like the author looking at himself. So of course I'm not going to bash him, he bashed himself too much already.

So what was that part about Thingol? Just a click-bait?

Melian was an Ainu. Thingol was an Incarnate,. In a world where the very existence of incarnates is a result of the discord, a result (or at least everyone believes so) of evil. of course he would have tons of darkness in his eyes! His very existence is something that shouldn't be if everything went well!

(BTW Feanor "killed" his mother and Maeglin was a child of a marriage that was terrible and not even a valid marriage tbh. they both have very much of the "their existence is the result of some evil" syndrome)

And I'm not saying Melian owed Thingol to marry him. No, she did not. But she saw the opportunity and she chose to and that's passing awesome.

(And then the same motif with Luthien and Beren who was a Men and as we all know, Men are problematic, even compared to Elves.)

And I know this started from Tolkien's wife, but still, the fact that it's always this gender setup... It's interesting in many ways.

I'm not even saying that Idril owed Maeglin (or any other sombination of those) a friendship, or a therapy. No. She set her bounduaries and it was a good thing to do, you need to know your limits and needs and all that.

But when someone can afford it, can afford to look at the darkness, and go forward anyway... it's passing awesome.

Also, going back from metaphysics into attachment styles and relationships and marrying a sad person... One day the darkness will be too much to handle. Not for B&L who lived a short life, but Thingol often ignored Melian, and Feanor and Nerdanel even separated.

But it is normal. And it doesn't make the relationship wrong.

You can handle only a finite amount of someone else's emotions (if you choose to handle them at all, which, again, you are not obliged to) and the point of it is for them to grow and learn to not need your help anymore. It is difficult and doesn't always work and it is normal. It is human.

My point is than it is better to support someone for as long as you are able to without herming yourself and then let them handle it on their own, than to not support someone at all. But again, sometimes "as much as you can afford" is zero, and it is ok. It is ok to not interact with difficult people.

Just please, don't say "I saw a darkness in his eyes". Say "I cannot handle this" or "I have other emotional commitments", or "I need my strength elsewhere" or "I need time and peace to heal" or something like that. It is about your rights, not their wrongs.

You don't owe anyone a relationship, friendship, or anything. But nobody is inherently undeserving of relationship or friendship, or fully incapable of it (some people need more help than others though).

ps: "passing" is a term I borrowed from "le Morte d'Arthur" and it means something like "exceeding expectations". I like it.

And, leaving the theme of romance, I could probably write another long post about how the opposite of "darkness in his eyes" is the light of the Trees in eyes of the Elves (except: Feanor had both) and why I'm not as big a fan of the trees as everyone in the canon (they were a good thing, but not as absolute as everyone paints it) and what Valinor was and what it was not and how the very existence of Valinor is the essence of "you have darkness in your eyes, you can't play with us" attitude but also my expectations are way too high and it's easy to complain in hindsight

Maybe one day I will post something more coherent about it.

Just... let's end this on saying that seeing the darkness, and calling your beloved beautiful and getting married anyway—

[liannelara-dracula]

Shu Sakamaki in Real Life HCS

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Prompt

Requests are open

Rules

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

🎻I probably won’t have much to say because I find his character to be ugh sometimes but I can’t imagine not creating hcs abt this mf.

🎻But it is difficult to come up with things about him, ngl.

🎻Anyhow, if you guys have seen these irl hcs before you’ll know I’m mostly sharing with you my general thoughts, and formulated opinions on this character so here we go!

🎻Okay, so I’m sure we all know he’s the heir and a prince of the vampire kingdom (I know its weird.) And I just have to say this because I don’t say it enough, I really feel like he acts differently in the demon world because he knows his dad will be mad.

🎻So you can expect Shu to be much more expressive as he is the heir, he represents his father and so he needs to be “lively”.

🎻 That being said, he attends gatherings, banquets, and many other events that his father may want him to.

🎻I will say that when he is in the demon world it is much different as he doesn’t act like himself.

🎻Apart from him is still the same in the sense that he is still a pervert.

🎻I mean we know he’ll be with low-ranking vampires or whatever just to get some.

🎻 After all, he has somewhat of an ego even if he doesn’t show it.

🎻So you know he most definitely does believe that because he is the heir he can move from one girl to the next with no strings attached.

🎻All for his advantage of course.

🎻Also speaking of his royalty life I really want to mention the fact that he is very annoyed by all the attention the girls give him.

🎻He literally can’t wait till he goes back to the human world where it's much quieter.

🎻However as a royal he does enjoy the theatre because he can hear classical music.

🎻In fact, he loves it most when he can watch the ballet performances.

🎻If there’s one thing he loves most it’s watching girls do ballet.

🎻He loves watching them practice especially because you know he’s a thigh guy. Apart from being an ass man.

🎻This is honestly where he might take an interest in a girl who's probably a dancer.

🎻I’ve literally made an aesthetic about this here.

🎻And you can read a lot about how he is at school in the demon world here. 

🎻Oh btw he sleeps in only his underwear, that’s just how I see it. (and it's actually canon, I was laughing when I found out I was right.)

🎻I will say that he doesn’t laugh very often, he’ll just have a chuckle that makes anyone uncomfortable but when he full-on laughs it's so fucking rare.

🎻And it freaks out almost anyone, it even got Yui.

🎻He is such an ass I feel like he trolls anyone in, anyway, he can.

🎻His hair is so tangled and I bet he doesn’t wash it that often because he’s lazy

🎻He smells like cotton/linen and a bit of dust.

🎻The best actor to play him would be Toby Regbo.

🎻However the model I found on Pinterest is also a great representation of what he’d look like.

🎻In terms of attitude he really reminds me of Robert Pattinson because he trolls so much. 

🎻The best way to bribe him is with steak, I swear it works every time. 

🎻And I bet my entire ass that Reiji uses it for when he needs big favors.

🎻He loves to be comfortable so I feel like American Eagle, Hollister, Old Navy, and H&M are his go to.

🎻I know he loves cardigans so much so he’s probably extremely picky about the kind he buys.

🎻That’s why he only has three, this is actually canon, I believe it was in one of the game translations in Reiji’s route where he was looking for his jacket and asked Reiji. And Reiji told him it can’t be that hard to find since he has only three, lol.

🎻And idk why but I just feel like he miss places them all around the house.

🎻I also think he keeps so much junk under his bed.

🎻“Huh, I don’t remember that being there.”

🎻If he gets really hot, he just throws his cardigan under the bed.

🎻He once owned a cat, it's not that he went out of his way and bought one. It sorta followed him and so he started to take care of it a little. It lived outside mostly because Reiji wouldn’t tolerate it, but occasionally Shu kept the cat in his room.

🎻He has no idea where the cat went and whether or not it's alive since he hardly kept watch of it.

🎻Although he sometimes wonders where it went, and I think he liked the cat since she sometimes got into Reiji’s things. It was amusing to say the least.

🎻Forgets he puts his music sheets on his bed and ends up sitting on them.

🎻That’s why they’re always somewhat crumbled and folded.

🎻Never makes his bed, he just throws the blanket on and thanks to the butler the room is kept clean.

🎻Otherwise it’d end up like Ayato’s room, to which the butler can never keep up with.

🎻Because he loves music he has vinyl records, and countless CDs in some boxes he keeps under his bed.

🎻He keeps a couple of his favorite books which are in Latin.

🎻Something also tells me if he had a journal, he’d write only Latin because none of his brothers can.

🎻Because he used to be a cashier, he still has his name tag from then and his worker vest.

🎻He keeps in hidden in a corner of his closet.

🎻Speaking of which his closet is so empty and he literally has repeats of the same pants and shirts.

🎻It’s mostly because they were on a good sale.

🎻He will wear the same clothes for like three days or more and not even change out of them.

🎻Doesn’t brush his hair, just goes to school with bed head.

🎻Keeps his door locked so triplets don’t think about pranking him with some clown-related things since he has a fear of them. It's mostly because he’s learned that the hard way.

🎻It's also because he fears they may bring in a caterpillar.

🎻I could totally see Yui trying to feed a caterpillar and he’d flip out in panic and leave immediately. 

🎻He never will admit to his fears and covers them up quite well because he wants no one to know that, especially a girl. lol.

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˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗ ©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present

[oc-poll-tournament]

OC Poll Tournament Round 1 Poll 5

Propaganda below the cut:

Meparik (he/him) @gailynovelry: Meparik of the Frostbitten Court (he/him)

Meparik is many things! He is a feyrie, a pickpocket, a sign-language user, a voracious reader, and an accidental religious leader. He understands more of the political goings-on of his realm than most adults do, and profusely hates the gods for it. His bedraggledness is matched only by that of his best friend (unwilling messiah lesbian). Gaze upon the child, your honor. Do you feel it? The desire to feed him warm soups and wrap him up in a cozy blanket? I rest my case, your honor. I rest it well.

Nat Finch (he/him) @albatris: I'd like to submit Nat Finch! he/him, 25 years old, brand new baby vampire. he works the night shift at dodgy petrol and convenience store Stop 'N' Go, where he falls asleep on the clock and encourages shoplifting. he's schizotypal like me and he loves cats, cooking, and his friends! he's the protagonist of my campy gory horror trilogy, though he'd rather not be!

he's short and fat with red eyes and lots of freckles. his hair is long and black, often uneven and choppy in length, because he just cuts tangles out instead of untangling them ❤

he's a sweet boy, earnest boy, awkward boy; he doesn't have many friends at the start of the story due to his paranoia, psychosis, and social anxiety, but by the end of it has a whole bunch of good friends AND a kitty he adores named Grub who purrs like a faulty tractor

in this story vampirism is a sentient entity and all connected via a hivemind known as "the Garble".... it lives in the vampires' blood and can manipulate their thoughts as well as give them heightened strength and speed, claws and fangs, and night vision when they need it. it can be useful, but mostly it's a bully and an inconvenience

at the centre of the Garble hivemind lives the very first vampire, an undead rotting corpse and the god of vampires, and a few of their close friends and confidants. all life force collected by regular vampires flows to them at the centre and grants them immortality and power. it's a sweet deal for the folks at the centre, and a terrible deal for ordinary vampires like Nat who rarely reap any real benefits from their condition, but are threatened and manipulated into participating in this system regardless

Nat's story sees him struggling to solve the mystery of how and why he was turned and trying to balance his kind, caring nature with his new violent condition... and eventually leads him to, "hey, I think I'm going to hunt down and eat the rest of vampire god"

good for him!

some other Nat Facts:

huge drama queen (will play up being sad and pathetic to get what he wants)

vampires are hardwired to seek warmth and coziness so Nat is always down to snuggle 24/7

bouncy cheery overexcited lad who will grin for weeks if you say something nice to him

vegetarian, aside from eating people, which he insists does not count

speaking of eating people, primarily preys on rich pricks and abusive bosses

is too awkward to tell his neighbours he bought them a cute knitted blanket he thought they might like for their corgi because what if that's a weird thing to do. this has been going on for three weeks

is too awkward to tell his neighbours his name is Nat, not Matt. this has been going on for three years

has a giant scary monster mode full of eyes and teeth >:3

please consider voting for my boy!

[majjiktricks]

plss gimme the fucked up ocelot/liquid dynamics

i dont know if this is gonna make any sense because i just wrote it in a haze but

i definitely think ocelot is weird about all of the bibo clones. he has way too much fun torturing snavid, and he works closely with solidus during mgs1-2. those two look the most like bibo, so ofc he has a strange attraction to them.

for liquid i think its a little more complicated because a) he met liquid as a child. but he didn't watch him grow up, and i dont think he felt any kind of familial bond with him. he was an annoying little shithead for a few months and then he fucked off into the wilderness to live with a bunch of other feral children.

and b) due to the whole liquid-miller situation. i have a lot of thoughts on ocelhira and how it mightve played out, and half of them contradict the rest, but i do think ocelot genuinely liked kaz and liked working with him. whether or not that was reciprocated is where my contradictory thoughts lie. they likely worked together post-1984 in foxhound, but it's unclear for how long.

so fast forward to 2005 where hes working with liquid, who has grown up into a handsome man who, aside from the hair, is the spitting image of big boss. hes more vindictive and hateful, but still eerily similar. his motivation to create a safe place for the genome soldiers mirrors big boss's goal of a nation of soldiers. and hes willing to blow up the rest of the world to do it. hes got a similar inspirational charisma that lands him leadership of foxhound, commanding the rest of the mgs1 bosses and the entire genome army.

so not only does ocelot draw parallels between him and big boss, which has tangled romance feelings involved, but also when liquid decides to kill miller and impersonate him, ocelot gives him a lot of information in order to be convincing (im assuming). tapes and videos and records to get to know miller better, and ocelot watches him literally transform into a copy of younger miller, very similar in age to when ocelot first met miller. (assuming they met at some point after 1975, kaz wouldve been early 30s, and liquid is also early 30s in 2005).

liquid's impression is of foxhound miller, but its probably still uncanny and takes ocelot off guard. so now hes contending with his past relationship with big boss AND miller, with whatever insane feelings he must have about the two of them focused into one guy.

the entire time this is happening, ocelot is working to undermine the entire plan and conspiring with solidus. so he doesnt fully respect liquid nor does he take him seriously. their interactions with each other feel like ocelot is just going along with whatever liquid says, because liquid thinks hes in charge. ocelot is willing to be insulted and humiliated by liquid to advance the overarching plan. (solidus' to overthrow the patriots using the data stolden from REX, ocelot's to later betray solidus and maintain the patriots. all that fuckery.)

but i think ocelot is having the time of his life during this. it feels like working with big boss. it feels like working with miller. every time liquid puts on the sunglasses or gives an order as the boss of foxhound, its like standing in the room with one of two ghosts that feels entirely real. thats gotta be confusing as fuck. but also hot.

so i think ocelot has a lot of conflicting feelings on liquid but ultimately is attracted to him, not for who liquid is, but for who he reminds ocelot of. its something ocelot can have a little fun with while still achieving his overall goal of supporting the patriots. (until its his turn to overthrow them. jesus christ ocelot why is your plan so convoluted.)

meanwhile liquid i think believes ocelot IS the foolish old man he portrays himself as during mgs1. he didnt respect ocelot when they met in the 80s, and he still doesnt take him seriously in 2005. i dont think liquid is interested in ocelot at all. if anything, it would simply be for the power trip of controlling his father's former right-hand man. possibly feelings of anger/hate from ocelot's close association with big boss. he probably realizes ocelot has some kind of feelings toward him, maybe not realizing the extent of it, but uses this to his advantage. perhaps he even believes this is why ocelot is willing to endure the insults and humiliation.

overall i think their dynamic would be strange, nostalgic pining against a somewhat bitter distrust and disrespect + a mutual feeling of superiority/incompetence.

they both think theyre taking advantage of the other. ocelot wants what he can no longer have, because both miller and big boss are dead. liquid is a stand in for them. liquid thinks hes in charge and in control of shadow moses, and he doesnt take ocelot seriously enough to consider something else is going on behind the scenes. he focuses his anger at big boss towards anyone who was associated with him- snavid, miller, ocelot. they both use each other as proxies to channel strong emotion.

its fucked :]