#thank you anon for reading my mind

[willowser]

you don't know how much comfort your dragon king bkg drabble has given me ever since you posted it!! i keep reading it i love it sm 🥹

as it turns out, the man bakugou is — a bit harder to handle.

he sleeps like a heathen; you once thought the dragon bakugou to be a bit lazy, with how often he tended to curl up in the fields of grass, warm under the sun, but now — it would seem his little human form needs significantly less rest.

almost up all hours of the day, and when he does finally lay down, he's everywhere. a mess of limbs: one thrown carelessly out to the side and the other bent at an angle you can't believe doesn't hurt his joints. his head stays tucked into you somehow, either buried in your neck or pressed against your ribs — or you'll wake to find him nose-to-nose with you. he still snores like a dragon, however.

you're also beginning to wonder if there is a bottom to the pit of his stomach. he ate much before, whole fields of things, but you expected that appetite to dwindle, at least a little, now that his stomach has decreased considerably in size. and in number ? you're not even sure how many stomachs a dragon has; that's not something that was mentioned in the fairytales.

it burns through him quickly, gives him more energy than he needs, and it doesn't ever seem to affect his weight much. already, he's huge and thick with muscle and eating as much as he does never dulls the severity of his cut abdomen. not that you're looking all that much.

— not that you have a choice not to, as he seems to have little-to-no understanding of —

the door to the bathhouse kicks open, with enough force that you already know who it is without ever turning to look. you try not to shriek when you see him, because he seems to like that in some evil, impish way.

you've been alone to wash so far, thankfully, as the inn you'd managed to find was small and far enough out from the nearest kingdom that the occupancy was low — enough for you and your little brute.

the man bakugou comes to stand in front of the bath, blinking and huffing against the steam. finding clothes for him was — nearly impossible, and so the trousers you'd found hanging on someone's line outside fit above his ankles, a bit too tight around his waist. instead of a shirt, you've wrapped him in a scratchy linen, swaddled him up like a baby to cover the small smattering of scales that decorate his body, almost like freckles from the sun, though they gleam just as bright and red as they ever have. no matter his form.

a horn has started to sprout, on the right side of his forehead, and you've done your best to cover that, too.

you have no idea how long this man thing will last. if it's permanent or if he even has control over it. the last thing you need is for him to switch back, somehow, while you're in the middle of feeding him, absolutely demolishing whatever tavern you're in and calling all of king todoroki's guards to attention.

bakugou grunts, almost sleepy, and tosses a fat, weighty sack onto the edge of the bath. it jingles a certain jingle that makes your heart stop.

"oh, allfather—" you move for the edge, awkwardly keeping one arm against your chest despite the fact that he's seen it all by now. when you peek inside and confirm your fears, you lob it back to him furiously, as if it were a steaming potato. "where do you keep getting this stuff?"

things have started to turn up, miraculously. shiny things — like coins and rings and gems. things he could not have simply found rolling around in the dirt.

"go put it back!" you hiss at him, and the tone of your voice makes his frown deepen. you never realized how pouty he was, when he was still a dragon.

you think he understands you, and you're pretty certain he just chooses not to listen; instead of doing what you've told him in the slightest, he simply dumps the coin-purse to the floor, and then lets his linen and stolen trousers cover it as he unceremoniously undresses.

the biggest issue that you would say the man bakugou poses is — his complete lack of understanding of personal space.

"bakugou!" your voice wavers, shocked again by his nakedness. as if you haven't seen it all by now. "no, you — get out!"

but he does the exact opposite, which is hop into the steaming water, ignoring the arm you hold out to keep him away as he saddles up beside you. skin against scales, pressing a nose into your hair to huff out his annoyance, to make it something you can feel.

if anyone were to walk in right now, they would — probably think the lie you'd told the innkeeper was true. that you are a simple traveler and this is your mute, over-sized husband.

regardless, you think this behavior isn't polite. especially in a public bathhouse.

"bakugou," you try again, turning your face away as you speak to the wood-paneled wall. "i'm taking a bath, you have to wait your turn."

all you receive in response is another huff against your ear and a low rumble of disagreement from his chest.

he has yet to speak back, and has only used inhuman sounds as his points of conversation. the only word you've ever heard him utter is oi, which he does when he really thinks he needs your attention. you're starting to wonder if he's named you that in his head. oi.

curiously, you turn back to him and the movement has him pulling his face from your hair, just enough that he can look down at you, too. watch you, with the red-rippled sea in his eyes.

they're — amazing, you will admit. just as bright and detailed as they always have been. fit for a fairytale told by the fire, veiled by the soft-ash of his lashes. he watches you through them, half-lidded, and you wonder if it's something other than fatigue that has them so heavy.

"do you know what i'm saying?" you ask quietly, voice lacking the firm heat you want it to. instead it's heavy, too, weighted by something soft and unfamiliar and frightening. "can you even understand me?"

bakugou doesn't respond, not with a huff or a rumble or ever a purr, like the one he let out on the night he lay over you by the lake. you've only heard it sparingly since then, oftentimes in his sleep when his face is pressed into you.

you try not to frown at his silence, try not to let it disappoint you because it shouldn't; he's a dragon afterall, and you're not sure what it matters. the little horn protruding from his forehead catches your eye and you reach up to touch it gently, watching him blink away the water that drips from your wrist — and then he's turning into you again, too close.

beneath the water, you feel his hands skate up your bare thighs, wrap around your waist until your chest is pulled flush against his. you feel his huff, again, against the damp skin of your neck but it's slower, lighter. not laced with his frustration. some unknown thing you feel guilty for liking.

you drop your hand to his hair, rushing full force into all the damned things you've thought about doing but have been too afraid to. he's soft between your fingers, and you trace your nails lightly against his scalp until he groans quietly; a new noise, one you don't know how to translate.

your fingers stop when they brush upon little spines that have grown at the base of his skull, that have started to trail down the center of his back.

suddenly, tangled up in the bath with him, you wonder how much time you have left.

bakugou huffs again into your skin, a little fiercer this time, and it's because of his light jostling that you realize how rigid you've gone. you try to relax so that he will, too, though you must not do a convincing job, because a sharp nip comes to your earlobe.

"ow!" you squeal, but he doesn't let you go far, not even as you try to jerk away from him. in fact, the harder you try the more his teeth show: into your cheek and the point of your jaw and then dangerously low on your neck.

it's not until you finally freeze that he stops, huffing again, with a warmth that burns more than the steaming water.

and then, very quietly, he grumbles, "shitty wife," into your collarbone, just before biting you again.

[transformers-earthspark]

Apologies for my recent radio silence. I've had a lot on my mind lately.

This post isn't Earthspark-related at all, but please read it.

I need to take a second on this blog to acknowledge some things going on in the world. I should not have stayed silent on this blog before, but I'm trying to fix that now.

Genocide in Palestine + how you can help Palestinians

You can buy e-sims for people in Gaza here. Anything helps.

Click here daily to help generate funds for Palestine. It's free and takes less than a minute.

Here's a list of where you can donate to help Palestine.

(If there's anything I should add to this section, please let me know.)

-----

The KOSA bill, what it's going to do if passed, and how you can help prevent it from taking effect

KOSA will essentially erase anonymity from the internet by requiring people to upload their government ID or other form of identification to any social media site, as well as restricting resources and information on LGBT rights, history, racism, and more. This bill will censor the entire internet and destroy privacy while violating First Amendment rights and potentially putting minors in danger.

This also could very well mean the end of Tumblr, and I'm not exaggerating here.

Tomorrow KOSA could be passed in Senate, and from there it will need to pass in the House of Representatives before being signed into law by the president. It's not doomsday yet, but it is a dangerous situation-- and here's what you can do.

StopKOSA.org provides you with a template email to send to your representatives. You can leave it how it is or edit it to say what you want, and then send it from their website.

The website also allows you to call your representatives and gives you a template of what to say.

BadInternetBills.org, run by the same people, takes action against KOSA as well as other bills like EARN IT. At the time of posting this, over 356,000 people have signed this petition.

Additionally there are several petitions on change.org to help stop KOSA. Here are a few of them.

STOP KOSA

STOP THE KOSA

Stop Kosa

Save Humanity, Oppose KOSA

STOP THE KOSA ACT

(Again, please let me know if there's anything I should add.)

-----

One last thing-- The evolution of AI images and video.

I don't really have anything good to say. AI is evolving fast and changing the world as we know it. We are adapting, but nobody knows how this really is going to end up.

A few quick points:

AI images are not art. That's all. AI "artists" who genuinely claim to have made something of their own just by typing a prompt into a generator will be blocked. (Which has been in my rules for a while, but I still think it needs to be said.)

I recommend Glaze for artists who don't want their art being scraped and used for data training. Especially with the recent rumors of an upcoming deal between Tumblr and Midjourney. There's also a similar program called Nightshade (haha, earthspark reference? anyone?🦉) that I haven't tested myself but have heard good things about.

-----

That's all, I suppose. Reblogs are good, if you don't mind.

Spread the word about KOSA. Contact your representatives. Sign the petitions.

Support Palestine if possible. Donate if you can. If you are unable to donate, make sure to do your daily clicks.

Stay safe and take care of yourselves. ❤️

[cheecats]

Can I request Shadowsight for the designs? Or maybe Frecklewish if you'd rather?

I'm curious what either would look like in your style! (Which I adore btw it's SO good)

i know Shadowsight is described as small in the books, but I prefer to interpret him with the Tigerstar(tm) tallness with Dovewing's build, and that he tends to shrink down/lower his voice while talking to appear as meek/non-threatening as possible because his peers get nervous around him

[rottiens]

Stepmom Yuki has severe breeding kink 😔✊️

she fucks you nice and deep, putting her hands on your belly looking adoringly at the way the cock separates your slippery folds and she would love nothing more than to fill you to the last drop. she in fact, debates whether she would love to cum in your folds or so deep inside you. her thumb moves from your belly button to your clit and strokes it sweetly as she takes the leg above her shoulder and kisses your calf, moving her hips in such a way that she manages to get even deeper.

the idea of her seed inside you, your tits swollen from pregnancy and her lips on your sweet sensitive nipples is what makes her cum silently, calling your name as she bites your skin.

[spiribia]

fem hrothgar

[callilemon]

Omg have you listened to ‘Love Like You’, sung by Ashe and Caleb Hyles

Because if not please do, it’s so Vanoé centric, more so with Vani, imagine him singing it, you think you could make a comic like that

Yes! Of course! I have a whole VnC x SU AU!

"Love like you" is literally so Vanoé and it's one of the reasons I started this AU! If you're interested, my side blog Is @the-casestudy-of-fusion 💜💙

[raineandsky]

Hi!

Would you write a story about a body guard and a prince?

The prince doesn't trust the body guard at first, because he thinks that the body guard is someone else's spy. But when the guard saves his life from a deadly assassination all by himself and gets severely injured, the prince apologizes and starts to trust him. Hope you have a great day/night!!

ANON. YOU KNOW ME SO WELL :O thank you for the request - enjoy!!

-

The prince is usually woken up by a maid, or his dog, or, god forbid, that goddamn bodyguard barging in for no explicable reason.

It’s not often he’s awoken by the feeling of cold metal against his neck.

Panic crashes through the confusion almost instantly. The prince flails, tangled in royally thick sheets, and his attacker hisses in annoyance. The blade stings against his skin and falls away.

The assassin fumbles after the prince as he scrambles across the bed; they clearly weren’t expecting to deal with him conscious. They grab him by the collar to yank him back into the covers. The force rocks the nightstand, and the flower vase on top of it rocks in tandem. There’s a blissful moment of still nothingness before the vase topples and crashes to the floor with the violence of a swinging hammer.

The door gets battered open with a similar amount of force. The assassin startles, their attention snapped to the giant figure blocking the doorway.

His bodyguard. The prince has seen the way this man’s eyes follow him, how he’s always in the most convenient of places to fall in line with the prince’s day. He’s been spying, he knew it, he’s been relaying information to some treasonous third party—

And now he’s come to join in on the murder, the prince thinks sourly. Amazing.

The guard moves and the prince scrambles to avoid him, but he doesn’t descend on the prince like he was expecting. He takes four assured steps into the room, draws his sword, and throws himself at the assassin.

The assassin lurches to the side, mostly. The guard’s blade catches on their wrist in a bright arc of shining metal and crimson.

The assassin seems to be getting more and more out of their depth with every passing second. They hold their wrist shakily, red leaking through their fingers, stumbling slightly. The prince’s guard moves in for another strike.

He gets too close; the assassin’s ready for him this time. They dart out of reach and breeze their dagger across the guard’s side.

The guard shoves them. It’s almost an instinct. The assassin staggers, making another haphazard swipe to the guard’s chest that he doesn’t even seem to notice. He traps them against the windowsill, his frame blocking their escape, and with one final push they tumble straight out the window.

The silence that follows is more unnerving than the prince expected. The guard leans over the sill slightly to glance at his handiwork, almost unbothered, before finally turning his gaze back inside and to the prince. “You okay?” he asks plainly.

The prince isn’t entirely sure if he’s meant to feel grateful or terrified. The guard steps towards him, a frown creasing his brow, and the prince flinches unintentionally. 

His guard rummages in his pocket before offering him a handkerchief. “You’re bleeding,” he adds after a moment.

He hadn’t even noticed. Now he’s pointed it out, the prince can feel the faint line trailing down his throat. But, Jesus Christ, now he’s said it—

“I don’t think it’s me that needs it,” the prince says faintly.

Blood splatters across the front of the guard’s shirt, leaving unsightly red stains across the fabric like a stark reminder of who he is, of what he can do.

The prince hasn’t really seen blood at all, let alone so much of it. He feels a little weak looking at it but he just can’t seem to avert his gaze. It’s fascinating, in a horrific sort of way.

His guard follows his gaze to the new patterning on his clothes. “Ah,” he says shortly, “I didn’t even notice.”

He stumbles into the plush armchair near the bed, his sword tumbling to the floor. The prince watches with fear that he can’t quite place—the person the prince has always trusted the least—this supposed spy—has put his life on the line, and for what? What does he prove by almost dying?

He moves without thinking, clambering to free himself of covers much too hot and thick. He grabs the blanket from the end of the bed with shaky hands and mindlessly pushes it into the gash on the guard’s side.

The thanks he gets is a sharp hiss and a cringe from his touch. “I— I want to help,” the prince says a little more desperately than is royal.

“Your Majesty, please,” the guard says gently, “I’m okay.”

“It’s a lot of blood.”

“I’m not dead.”

“Not yet,” the prince snaps, and the guard barks a laugh.

He obediently stays put, though, forcing out a long breath as the prince tries valiantly to stem some of the blood leaking all over his lovely velvet chair. His hands tremble, his head light at the feeling of that sickly warmth on his skin, his mind already wandering. 

He was so sure his guard was in on this. If he had been, surely, he wouldn’t have intervened. The prince has spent the last god knows how many months watching him back, waiting for a hint that he’s right, that this man is part of some gang out for his blood.

His waiting was in vain, clearly. The guard’s always been silent—looking back, maybe that was a respect thing—content to just watch from the shadows, unseen until needed—a common trait amongst the crown’s warriors—and Jesus Christ he was just completely normal and the prince misread everything.

“I’m sorry,” the prince blurts before he can stop it. The guard turns his gaze from the window and back to his prince.

“Not your fault people think you’re an easy target.”

The prince doesn’t think too hard about that comment. “You saved my life.”

A half-smile graces the guard’s face for a moment. “As is my duty, Your Majesty.”

Calling it duty is slightly underselling the weight of what he’s done. “No, you saved my life.” The prince keeps his eyes focused on the blanket slowly turning red in his hands, as much as he doesn’t want to, to avoid the way the guard’s gaze is burning into him. “I think a thank you is in order, at least.”

“Oh, uh, a’ight.” The guard clears his throat dramatically. “Thank you.”

“What? No.” The prince laughs, a genuine full-second’s laugh, before he remembers to rein it in. “No, I want to thank you. After I’ve been so… weird to you, you still put yourself at risk for me. I think it’s worth you knowing that I appreciate that.”

The guard flushes for a moment, thankfully turning his interest elsewhere. “Well, your father pays a hefty sum to keep you alive. I’d deal with you actively trying to kill me for the salary I get in this place.”

“And I’m sorry, again” — The guard’s barely finished talking before the words are falling out like they’re desperate to be said — “for being so… so—”

“Suspicious and rude?”

The prince is momentarily incensed enough that his eyes snap up to the guard’s, but he simply grins back. His eyes crinkle slightly, his face brightened. “Your staring wasn’t subtle,” he adds with a short laugh. “At first I thought it might be admiration, but after a while I realised it was only ever me you were looking at.”

It’s the prince’s turn to flush now—mostly out of embarrassment. “Yes, well, I inherited paranoia from my father as well as his crown.”

The guard’s smile turns soft, and the prince decides he’s best to avoid it once again. “You’ve no need to worry,” he says gently. “I’ll always be here to protect you.”

The prince makes some horrendously unchecked noise before clambering to his feet. “Okay,” he says quickly, “hold this against your side and your chest. I’m going to find a doctor that’s awake.”

“That’s usually my job.”

“You’re not usually the one bleeding all over my silk cushions.”

The guard nods like he’s admitting defeat. “Give my apologies to the maids for all the washing they’re about to do.”

“I will,” the prince says with complete earnest, then he’s out the door.

He reappears with the doctor a few minutes later, the latter of which is wearing a rather telling scowl for four in the morning. The guard lets the doctor prod and poke without complaint whilst the prince flutters about nervously.

He’s so focused on the work the doctor’s doing, making sure he’s careful—as if the palace doctor wouldn’t be—that he completely misses his guard’s gaze. Soft, knowing, relieved that the prince is finally watching him with hope instead of mistrust.

It’s a refreshing change to his usual expression. Maybe one day the guard can change it from hope to unwavering faith.

[heartorbit]

Ur last posts tags spoke to me personally. Like magical girl, swan lake, and little prince gachas? Yes, yes, and yes! Ive been rotating these in my head for so long.

"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"Then it has done you no good at all!"

"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."

^ this is SO wxs like oh my god. I’d love to know what role u think they’d be in the story

And idk much abt the other stories you said but I trust they would also slap as gachas

oh i love you. listen

i could honestly make a case for any wxs member in any role but i think the best fits for their characters are emu as the little prince, rui as the narrator, nene as the fox and tsukasa as the rose. or perhaps it's my emu favoritism talking

i'm not even sure how to justify or explain myself for each decision. source: trust me bro. emu has held on to her whimsy but lives in loneliness and rui has had his creativity stomped down throughout his life and nene's timidness gives way to her earnest desire to connect with other people and tsukasa cried and threw up because he's not special. does anyone understand me

again i think there's argument to be had for other roles, i think they could all potentially fit as the narrator in some way or another. or like, tsukasa as the little prince or nene as the rose or emu or rui as the fox could all work too. come into my inbox and send anons saying im super wrong so i have an excuse to talk about it more please.

OK wxs swan lake i will wait for until my final breath like they can't just make one of emu and rui's cheerful carnival team names "the duck and the crow" and expect me to NOT make this about princess tutu. you're joshing me colopal. though i think rui and nene would pass away doing ballet i know they are not doing their stretches sorry

[numbuh424]

Hello! I really love your Death Note art!! Especially your blog header. I saw it and thought it was so cool how you copied the manga style!! Your posts about it say they're you're Death Note OC? Do you have anymore info you can share about them or previous posts about them? Are they a Death Note user? I'm really curious cause the art is so cool and I love reading about people's OCs. That's all, thanks for all the cool art you make!

Hello!! Thank you so much for enjoying my art 🙏 And thank you for asking about my OC! I've never really talked about her publicly before just cause I've never really... Made an OC before? So this ask made me really happy 🥹 I'll try to keep this short but it definitely won't be lol because I don't know when I'll ever get to talk about her again.

Years ago I had a plot stewing in my head for a story where Near shuts down the L successor program, steps down as L, and puts the title to rest. It takes place a year after the A-Kira story, which is around 10 years after Death Note's main story.

The idea was that someone began exposing Wammy's for their covered-up misdeeds and the fact that this is where successors of L were being raised. Because of that information being leaked, Wammy's House becomes unsafe for everyone in it.

OC talk under the cut 🙏

Apart from needing an antagonist who leaks all this information, I also needed a character who was there during the years Near wasn't to fill in the gaps for him and lead him to the culprit.

All the major information about her is here on this OC character profile I made a while back. Lee honestly began as a general persona/self-insert that I use whenever I want to draw myself. I still often use her as my persona when I make silly doodles and whatnot. However, as a Death Note OC, I've really lost control of her and she has just gone on to take a life of her own lol

Lee comes from Wammy's House and entered when she was 12, a lot later than the rest. She first arrived only months before L died and Near and Mello left to hunt Kira. Though gifted with photographic memory, she could never really make it into the successor program through that alone. Despite this, she dedicated her years at Wammy's to pursuing the title against all odds, only to come up short every single time until she finally graduated. Knowing she wasted years pursuing the title, she grew bitter towards L and the program and left the orphanage to pursue an art career like she originally wanted.

She became an art teacher and kept her distance from anything related to the crime/police/investigators. Unfortunately, as fate would have it (fate being me, the person controlling everything about her life), she became a witness to a crime where she used her skills to draw the culprit. Her sketch is what gets the man arrested and what causes the police to recruit her. Though she always said she'd abstain from detective work after wasting her time on it at Wammy's, she can't ignore the good she can do through her work, so she agrees to work part-time lowkey.

She doesn't like having the spotlight on her, as years of fighting for it in her youth have worn out her motivation for being seen. She keeps her past under lock and key and lies about it constantly, but her memory allows her to keep track of her lies easily.

Her role in the story is that her past identity (her real name and lived experiences) is stolen and used to frame her as the person leaking information about the orphanage - an "insider tells all" who wants to destroy L, Quillish Wammy, and the orphanage. Because Lee is so detached from her past, at first she lets the culprit just use her old identity. It's not her anymore, anyway, so why bother her about it? It's only when the culprit starts murdering people and throws her current identity under the bus that she starts sweating. There's a criminal investigation underway and she's their only suspect.

Near and his team know she's not behind any of this; they're really the only ones who know for sure because of his ties to Wammy's (it's kind of a reverse L and Light situation where he's sure it's not her but everyone else is out to get her lol). However, she can definitely help point them in the direction of the person who's behind it all.

The problem is Lee's animosity towards the L program extend to Near, who is the only L she really knows considering the real L died a few months after she arrived at the orphanage. Near tries to bring her on board for the case since she's the best lead they could possibly ask for, but because of her distaste towards L and the orphanage, she refuses to join at first. The culprit going one step further and framing her for murder is what pushes her to finally go with Near and his team because her life has fallen apart and the police are coming to get her.

She really doesn't wanna help L and joins mostly for self preservation. She kinda gets a kick out of the fact that she has information the world's greatest detective can't get from anyone else. It's childish of her, but what's Death Note without a bit of childishness.

Also, to answer your other question, she's not a Death Note user. I certainly intended for her to be back then (hence the art I made for her where she has the notebook) but the story I came up with has undergone dramatic changes since. She still very much works with pen and paper, just not in that way anymore lol

That's most of the basic information about her and her role in the story I may or may not ever write. I honestly have the broad strokes mapped out already, including the ending.

Spoilers (for a story that only exists in my head lol), Near has Wammy's House demolished and has a new institution built for the kids. The successor program is dissolved and he has Lee head the art department since she was already an art teacher before everything happened.

Thanks so much for asking about her 🙏

[empresskadia]

Round 5 because I hyperfixate easily, and I think all the Spartans deserve kisses. My Achilles Heel is falling in love with fictional women. Anyway, hear me out:

-

Since the firing range had been down for maintenance, Linda-058 had been noticeably less enthused. Without being able to use Nornfang, she had quickly grown to be bored. So, thinking quickly, you suggested that she'd trying a game of accuracy or two. She wasn't very fond of pool, but she loved darts.

It was cute to see the concentration spread across her face before every throw of a dart. Part of you wondered if that was what it was like when she was behind a scope - the regal, calm, collected grace of the Sniper Goddess. When she turned to you and the red of your face, she gave you a playful wink. She won again, of course, but you got the consolation prize of a loving kiss from Spartan-058.

-

Kelly-087 has a tendency to steal your casual clothes. Even though most of your clothes don't exactly fit her, she will wear them. You'd be losing your mind looking for that sweater you could've sworn you had a week ago only for her to barge in with a guilty smile and returning it because "it doesn't smell like you anymore!" 

She tends to do this when you or her are busy, and she doesn't get to see you as much as she would like. John caught her wearing one of your hoodies once, when Blue Team was on back-to-back missions, and she hadn't seen you in a month. Kelly nearly tackled you when she got to see you again.

-

In public, Cal-141 acts as expected of her and her reputation as a Spartan-II. But, in the privacy of your quarters, she lets the walls down and basks in the freedom of being her true self. It doesn't matter how long you've been together. Everything you do together is like the first time for her, and it never fails to fluster her.

Slow dancing together, cuddling, holding hands - she loves it all. By far, her favorite thing to do is to compare the sizes of your hands. It never fails to make Cal blush, and if you weave your fingers with hers and kiss the top of her hand afterward? She'll be red in the face thinking about it for the rest of the day.

-

Your relationship with Sarah Palmer was sort of an open secret aboard the Infinity. Despite you and the Commander doing your best to keep your relationship under wraps, it was obvious to observers. Every other Spartan under her command respected the hell out of her but were kind of afraid of her. Sarah was only this gentle with you and you alone.

One time, Captain Lasky had found her going over your gear before one of your missions with Fireteam Majestic, and he laughed at how quickly she turned red, stuttering excuses for messing with your armor at 0200. Roland will never let her hear the end of it.

-

I've been waiting to read this, also same, all the Spartans deserve kisses and hugs and someone to love them so much that they're kinda shocked by it but omg gets excited to be with their partner, anyways-

Linda is skeptical when her partner drags her to Spartan Town's activity room and hands her a case of darts. She understands the concept of them and has seen the IVs play, but she isn't sure why they would insist on her playing. Until she actually starts throwing them. Yeah, it's not firing off Nornfang but she's having fun figuring out how to adjust her aim every time she moves back. And she's not complaining when the reward of kisses because you both know she's gonna win.

Blue team 100% gives Kelly shit for stealing her partner's clothes, and she could care less. It's comfortable, and it's not her fault they can't rizz someone up. The rest of the team can tell when Kelly wants to see her partner because she gets restless and is practically hopping between one feet and the next during missions.

I just adore the idea of Cal getting flustered over someone loving her. She's heard Maria-062 talk about retiring and having a family, and she remembers all the other spartans looking at her weirdly. But Cal gets it now. Yes, there are things she doesn't always understand with relationships, but every time her partner kisses her hand or calls her beautiful, it feels like the first time for her.

Everyone is gonna know because of Roland. That AI is the number one shipper, and he's a snoop. But also Roland is a wingman. If Sarah and her partner are having a moment, sorry, spartan that area of the ship is down for maintenance. Even if it wasn't for the AI, all the IVs see how Sarah's shoulders relax when you enter the room during war game or how her eyes always scan the room and settle on you before giving her fireteams crap. And Lasky? He's loving this because he gets to tease her endlessly with Roland.

[ruelpsen]

My hc is that his cum has a super basic oh that reacts real strangely with stomach acid, causing it to bubble, burble, and bloat for quite some time. It might not show right away, but it /will/ show. And be heard. Excuse you!

I have been trying and failing since yesterday to write a cohesive response to this and I can't, I get too horny to think straight 🥴

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Lust reminds me of one of those luxurious white cats with a very fluffy coat

I have been doing well

I hope you do as well

You're great

-anon

YEEES OMG!!!! that's EXACTLY the vibe i was going for >:D

she's so fancy<333

[frownyalfred]

Forewarning: this fucker is long, feel free to skip over it

Oh man, I don’t know what you’ve got written for your coral room sequel so far, if anything, but it’s gotten me thinking about Jason coming back and Luthor’s manipulative ass and, whew.

Like imagine, Jason coming back set on revenge, furious with rage at Bruce, hearing rumors about Lex Luther tangling with Batman, and going to investigate. Lex smells him and recognizes Jason, because he’s pack. Jason is immediately like “wtf why are you pack” (maybe with some good ole slut shaming towards Bruce because the pit twists *everything* into a reason to hate Bruce). Lex smells blood in the water and immediately tells Jason that Bruce bit Lex so he could stop the kryptonian from attacking (he neglects to mention which kryptonian). Oh and Jason, Lex thought the two of them were Alphas and locked them in a room and pumped in a rut inducer to get them to fight. If he’d known Bruce was an omega he wouldn’t have done it because you know what happens when an Alpha is reduced to their instincts in a locked room with an omega… and oh Jason, he’s so sorry, but Bruce is mated to Superman now, and don’t you know? dear old pops is pregnant now. What a shame that Bruce didn’t have those kryptonian weapons he’d been stockpiling on him at the time…

Jason, upon hearing that the mating and pregnancy might’ve been forced, turns a 180 in a heartbeat as he sees green. How could he have possibly thought Bruce would have bonded Lex on purpose, when he remembers Bruce fending off hordes of alphas who wanted nothing more than to objectify and mate him? Did he really think Bruce would bond Lex, who he loathes, without some asshole in the mix forcing him to?

Jason can tell he’s being manipulated, but the sheer tidal wave of pit madness buries it and the whisper of “how could Bruce bonding Lex stop a kryptonian?” because now instead of being furiously angry at his father, he’s fucking enraged on his behalf and viciously protective in such a rabid way that it gives him whiplash.

Also I love fics where Bruce is either a woman or shares a role/dynamic with Catherine, because giving Jason daddy issues is great, but how about *double mommy issues*? Especially since in this, he’d be getting the same emotions of “I’m just a kid of a parent who’s doing their best but their spouse is abusive to them and I’m helpless to stop it” except this time, he isn’t helpless, so watch out Clark, not only does Jason hate you for the aforementioned forced mating/pregnancy, but he’s also projecting the ghost of Willis Todd onto you.

Anyways sorry for how crazy long this is. Can you tell that I finished reading coral room and the interlude, got a stray thought, and then lay flat on my back for five minutes staring up at the ceiling as plot bunnies devoured my brain before sitting straight up and typing all of it into your ask box?

I love this anon!!! So much!! @januariat and I have been going back and forth with ideas for the sequel and it’s very much this similar dynamic of an awkward pack trying to figure themselves out and also fighting like angry cats.

I especially agree about Jason coming back pumped full of Pit juices and omegaphobia. He’s torn between blaming Bruce for being weak/making the wrong decisions but also being defensive of him and aggressive toward Clark, the only alpha.

Lex is the funny but awkward element to every single relationship here. Oh yeah him? He’s just that omega Bruce forcibly pack bonded after he tried to kill Superman and start his own super pack. He’s actually not horrible to be around if you give him time (and you’re a fellow omega)

[aviangrian]

Hi!! I just bingeread Starboy and I am soooo hooked. I'm not usually a sports AU person but the F1 content in the fic almost has me invested enough to look more into the real life stuff (I've only ever seen one race with my family, and caught on to some of the stuff they watch on TV). I love the adrenaline rush of the racing scenes and reading all about each teams' reactions to their placements and everything, it's all just so fun. I of course love the Scarian in it, how could I not, but I'm also just enamored by all the other teams and relationships too, it's really interesting to see the balance between "competitor/enemy that could cost me my career" and "close friends that go clubbing and help me out during tough times" and the way all of the characters deal with it. And it's always great to see more of the "Scar fell first, Grian fell harder" storyline! I love a good Scar-centric fic that touches on his goals and life outside of Grian as well! It's just been such a a blast so far and I'm really excited to see where it goes from here, I can already tell I'll miss this world and these guys a lot once it ends. Much love to you, author, thank you for a wonderful story!

first off i wanna say thank you for giving the fic a chance! i have a whole tag on here for sports haha so i love it and i love seeing people who don’t typically like these kinds of aus reading my story! and enjoying it!! :D

one of the funnest parts of planning out this au was doing all the teams and dynamics. grian and scar cross a very dangerous line of “you drive for my biggest rival” and “i wanna kiss you 24/7”, but they aren’t the only ones lol. jimmy’s also crossed that line 1000 times w not just one person, but TWO haha. it’s fun having everyone w their own unique relationships w each other, even where grian and scar aren’t concerned!

my biggest gripe w romance novels lately have been the mcs not having any sort of personality outside of their relationships so i refused to let that be this fic lol. grian’s gunning for that world championship and scar wants to be the very best like no one ever was! they have lots of goals and ambitions outside of each other!

thank you for the ask! seriously it’s so nice and i love getting them. i also think about the last 3 chapters remaining and it makes me sad too :(

[corrodedcoughin]

eddíe coming out to steve as genderfluid - or, well. he won't know the name for it until a few years later, but after he tries to explain it and steve listens and asks questions and seems to understand it well enough. but eddie's not out yet to anyone else, sticks to he/him pronouns and they don't mind being seen as a guy per se, but they'd be way more comfortable if people knew to use she or they when talking about them. but steve wants to help, so, using the skill he learned from el, he makes eddie bracelets. every color he can find, thin enough to be hidden or passed as a gift from kids. so eddie can choose which color means what and they can wear how they feel for when steve can't ask them, or when they're around other people, steve can distract the kids from calling eddie a guy too much when he's wearing blue (not pink. fuck stereotypes, eddie said, earning a kiss from steve, because they both know steve loves pink), or try to steer the conversation away from eddie completely if they're uncomfortable. when to call him a beautiful boy and when it's simply a pretty baby. eddie thinking it's equally amazing and terrifying to be loved like this, so much that whatever eddie thinks are difficulties or faults are actually the parts steve loves most. because eddie won't survive if steve ever stops loving them, but steve always looks eddie in the eyes, and it's always with endless patience and certainly when he promises, "don't worry. i won't ever stop."

Something about Eddie being so unsure of how to navigate this space, when he's always been so loud and ready to put on a show. This though? This uncertainty in himself of how to be who he feels he is? It rattles him down to his bones. He spends god knows how long contemplating the nature of who he is and how that changes depending on the week, day, hour.

He feels on unsteady ground when he brings it up with Steve but knows he needs to, if for nothing else but a sounding board. Eddie is tired of this rotating in a morbius loop in his brain. He gets ready to run before the conversation even starts, plans an escape route, any excuse so he can avoid looking at any feelings of discomfort in Steve's eyes.

The thing is, it never comes. Not once. Eddie fumbles his way through trying to explain how 'she' feels good sometimes but so does 'he' and some days the thought of being referred to as a man, woman, girlfriend, son, makes his bones feel like they belong in a different body. That somedays he just wants to be Eddie and can't that be enough?

Through it all Steve holds on, quietly listening with his thinking face fully in action. That's how Eddie knows this isn't going to go sour, the way Steve is sitting, chin in hand with a finger stroking over his top lip. Thinking.

When it's all said and done there's a silence that Eddie can't say is encouraging but then Steve gets up with a sigh and wraps Eddie up in his arms from where they'd been pacing a groove in the floor.

Eddie ventures out a quiet 'are we okay? I'm not too much?'

to get a muffled response into his hair 'never enough if I'm being honest'

And somehow? somehow it's as easy as that

[shywhumpauthor]

Hi, Coal! This is anonymous from the Whumpuary question

There's no need to respond to this, lol-

I really just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to respond to my previous question :))

(I enjoyed reading the dragged out version of your response, lol- better for my brain to process and take in for sum reason)

I'm good with whatever decision you make. I was honestly just curious because I do enjoy your stories and writing style, so there's that-

(#love Noah)

And, I get where you're coming from with writing series and all, so like- yeah

Regardless of your decision, as long as you don't stress yourself out about it, I'll be fine with whatever

So, uh, yeah- thanks for responding and– take care :)

I am so bad with responses but I wanted to say something just to lyk that I appreciate that you read the long response and then also took the time to reply. That sounds so stiff and insincere written out like this, but I promise it’s not lmao

You as well! Happy new year!

(#love hurting noah)