#when I don’t know what to do for backgrounds I just draw flowers

[palaceoftheprophets]

Been spending a lot of time lately with my new best friends.

[pepperonidk]

11:31 p.m. || k.mg

Pairing: mingyu x gn!reader (i do mention that the reader is walking down the aisle)

Summary: just some wedding hypotheticals. mingyu can't wait to marry you

Warnings: tom holland mention? lol

Word Count: 633

a/n: everyone around me seems to be in love and on the brink of marriage. i just keep wondering when is it my turn?

main masterlist || taglist

one day, not now but not too far away, mingyu swears he can picture it. the chapel is bright, light pouring in from the windowed walls of the cathedral and outside the woods are full of chirping birds. it’s later in the morning, but it’s only the beginning of spring and the dew drops of dawn still hang from each blade of grass.

inside, the aisle is lined with a white carpet littered with flower petals. the piano plays a classic wedding anthem and everyone stands. the pews are lined with smiling faces, but no one smiles wider than him as he catches your eye as you enter the room.

he can picture it so clearly that he wonders if it’s a vision of the future and not just a fantasy. but more so, he wonders if you see it too.

so with your head on his chest and his fingers drawing slow circles on your skin, he asks a question.

“have you ever pictured what our wedding will be like?” the question is quiet, but loud enough to hear over the tv sitcom playing in the background.

mingyu shifts his eyes to you as you turn your head up to raise an eyebrow at him.

“my my,” you tease with a small smile. “you haven’t even proposed and you’re already asking about our wedding?”

mingyu rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “you know that’s coming, baby,” he coos. “just a matter of when, not if.”

“fine,” you relent. “i have thought about it, but why do you ask?”

“just wondering,” he hums to himself. his hands move down to yours and you feel him fiddling around with your ring finger. “what have you thought about it?”

“well mostly just small details,” you explain. “like what song i want to walk down the aisle to, our first dance, whether or not we should have an open bar. i could share my pinterest board that i made when i was 16 if you want.”

“we weren’t even dating then,” mingyu states in confusion.

“yeah, it’s for when i was convinced i was going to marry Tom Holland,” you tease, and reach a finger to poke mingyu’s cheek as he pouts in return.

“so i’m just filling in for spiderman?” he pouts.

“hmmm, no you’re more of a captain america to me,” you smile.

“then why don’t i get a pinterest board?” he scoffs in frustration. he wasn’t expecting this when he asked the question, but the way you’re looking at him with such fondness in your eyes soothes any jealousy he feels for the web-shooting hero.

“because,” you shift so you can turn your whole body to face him and reach up to cup his face in your hands. “when i think about our wedding, i want to picture it with you, not laying in bed alone while scrolling through pinterest at 2 am.”

mingyu hangs his head sheepishly and his pout almost instantly fades into a smile. you can’t help but reach up to kiss him softly.

“have you thought about it?” you return the question as you pull away.

“a little,” he begins until you look at him with a prodding look. “okay, a lot.”

“well don’t keep it to yourself,” you tease.

mingyu shakes his head and presses a kiss at the crown of your head instead. “maybe after i finally propose.”

“the suspense is killing me, babe,” you laugh and reach up a hand to cup his face.

“guess i just have to hurry up and propose then,” he smiles as he leans down to kiss you sweetly.

maybe it is a vision, mingyu decides. it’s his vision. but, he thinks, whatever the two of you decide together will be better because it’s real and he’ll share it with you.

taglist: @yksthings @alonelystarfish @celestialchans @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae @maverey

[runa-falls]

the love bite - steven

pairing: steven grant x reader (what's new)

warnings: biting (lol), physical hurt/comfort, FLUFF, unhinged!reader, sub-ish!steven [I CAN'T HELP IT OK], small reference to the boys' past/their job, a bit suggestive but not explicit!

a/n: blaming @whatthefishh for this thot after the comment on the flowers fic about wanting to bite him i had to write. and @leoluved for encouraging me to write this instead of my wips -- hehe :3

prompt (by me): i wonder how steven would react to the reader just biting him out of love...

w/c: ~800

masterlist

---

With Steven, the initial chomp would happen during a normal hangout with each other. 

Like you'd both just be chilling, sprawled out on the couch, with the tv droning in the background:

You love these moments with Steven. The unspoken acknowledgment that you are both pretending to watch what's on when really you're just sinking into each other's touch, enjoying each other's company.

Soft, lazy days like this have become increasingly rare as Konshu has Marc sent out on missions in the States every few weeks. You don't blame them. You could never blame them. You just miss them.

Steven is snuggled right behind you, a sweater-clad arm securely wrapped over your shoulder to keep you close to his body. He sighs softly into your hair, wishing to just lay here, legs tangled with yours forever.

He doesn't notice or care that his oversized sleeve bunches at his elbow as he repositions himself behind you, but your eyes instantly catch onto his revealed forearm, tan and strong, but relaxed, resting right above your chest.

Sometimes you forget how strong your boyfriends are, how they can handle you with such care, touches as light as a feather when all they've known in their life is pain.

Steven settles closer to you, face nuzzled against your shoulder, subtly breathing you in with a soft sigh. His warmth soaks into your back, surrounding you with undeniable comfort. You look down at his arm with interest in your eyes, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip.

Suddenly you have this urge, this impulsive thought to just --

Steven chokes out a high-pitched yelp.

"HEY!" He’s barely able to process what happened as he swipes his arm away from your mouth. "W-what was that for?" He stares at you with furrowed brows while his other arm slips out from under you to rub at the fresh bite mark on his arm.

You sit up a little, eyes trained on the indents as his fingers gently swipe over them. Pretty. You didn't bite hard so they're quite faint, but you can still make out your bite pattern. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, "I dunno." 

It sounded dumb coming out of your mouth, but you really can't explain why you did it. You just needed to. Something about his softness and the pure affection you hold for him compelled you to bite him…and you kind of want to do it again.

Your hand darts out and you try to tug his arm closer, but he struggles against you, no longer trusting his limbs anywhere close to your mouth. He whimpers softly when you tug harder, trying to resist your eager grip.

“What d’you mean ‘I don’t know’?!” His arm is immovable, but you keep pulling at him. “You bit me!” 

When he pulls away from your body, attempting to push himself up to a seated position, you huff in frustration and yank him back. He falls back with a squeak and you hold him close, leaning in instead of pulling him in this time.

You brush your lips against his warm skin, hovering right over the last bite and he relaxes a bit, believing you’d soothe the bite with a kiss as an apology. But you don’t. 

It’s less aggressive this time around. Less of a bite and more of a nibble. 

He tenses at first, instinctively wanting to draw away from you, but as you gently suckle and lick at him, he starts to settle against you, seeing as you mean him no harm. 

“I-I still don’t get it.” He peers down at you as you leave soft marks along his arm, “What – Why are you doing this?” 

You sigh, “Steven…just let it happen.” 

“Um, ok.” 

—

Since that initial bite, your lips have made their way around his body, taking time to show every inch of him some love and affection. He’s littered with love bites and phantom kisses, but he still yearns for more. 

He shudders as you drag the edge of your teeth against the crook of his neck and eagerly leans into your touch, hungry for physical contact.

No matter how much he mewls and begs for you, you’ve taken it slow, drinking in each bated breath and soft cry. 

You breathe a whisper against his skin, “You like this, Steven?”

He doesn’t answer your question.

You place a gentle kiss on his sweet spot, but pull away when he starts to whine for more. 

“Please, darling.” 

He wants you to bite, but you stay put and watch him writhe for your touch. 

Your thumb swipes over a blotch of purple on his shoulder and he shivers at the sensation of pleasurable pain, “Why do you like it so much, sweetheart, hm?”

“I dunno,” He’s delirious, only able to think about you and your touch, “I just – please.”

“Ok, baby…”

[classickook]

könig headcanons

a/n: i have absolutely zero knowledge of this game but he’s my special little guy, i couldn’t help myself.

next >>

- he’s definitely the type who pays super close attention when you’re talking and will encourage you to keep going even if everyone else tunes you out or if they talk over you

- he is SO attentive of everything in general but especially everything you do. since he’s pretty quiet and shy, he stays in the background and just observes everyone and finds himself focusing more on you, picking up little details that no one else would really notice

- like he knows what your nervous tics are and what books you tend to read in your spare time and where you grew up

- could recognize your voice anywhere! his eyes literally light up when he hears you coming around the corner :)

- loves it when you lift his hood enough to playfully nip at his chin or when you sneak under it completely while giggling and kissing him all over his face

- also loves nose kisses <3

- blushes easily

- anytime you look up at him, he has stars in his eyes and feels his heart stop a bit and he for sure is blushing under that hood because he’s completely head over heels for you and can’t believe you feel the same

- gives the best hugs!!!!!!!!

- his love language is definitely physical touch okay don’t fight me on this (also gift giving but we’ll get to that later)

- like just imagine that giant mountain of a man with the sweetest heart holding your hand (or linking fingers omg!!!) or lightly touching your shoulder or waist when he walks by <333

- he obviously has social anxiety but once he’s comfortable with you, he will 10000% turn to you for reassurance or comfort by just touch alone

- also… since he’s so freaking huge, imagine clinging to him like a koala and he just casually walks about with you wrapped around him

- this guys strikes me as ticklish idk why but let’s go with it

- imagine cuddling with him (how the two of you manage to fit into one cot i have no idea) and your hair brushes against the sensitive skin along his neck or you rest your hand on his abdomen and chest and he just gets kinda giggly all of a sudden

- has nightmares a lot :(

- he feels pretty awkward about it and apologizes for waking you up and starts to roll over in bed but you immediately comfort him and wrap your arms around him and distract him with random facts or hobbies you want to try, anything that’ll get his mind off of the bad dream

- you usually make him hot chocolate after a nightmare so the two of you curl up in bed, sipping on the sweet drink while asking him questions about his hometown until he’s smiling again

- on that note… he definitely has a sweet tooth

- you’ll bake him all sorts of sweets and try out new recipes and he’s like a little puppy that follows you around the kitchen or sits at the table and offers to help you or lick the spoon or something, he’s so cute <3

- he’s a people pleaser for sure so he would literally do anything for you

- this guy radiates sunshine/golden retriever bf vibes but would absolutely lose his shit if something bad happened to you or if he found you hurt/crying

- can go from 0 to 100 real quick

- back to the topic of gift giving!!! he always picks fresh flowers for you when he’s out and about, like he’ll make it his mission to scout out fields or little markets to get something nice for you

- also, he sketches a lot ! so he’ll oftentimes gift you with his drawings, like just leaving them on your cot or tucking them in the mirror or somewhere you’ll find them during the day to cheer you up

- overall, könig is a total sweetheart and i want to hug him immediately !!

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Hey hey! I was wondering if you could do the greasers with a hyperfeminine reader? 🫶🏽

Sureeeeeee pookie

The Gang x Hyperfem! Reader

(Tried to find accurate pics but there’s like none on friggin google- ps I could only find pink but hyperfem doesn’t necessarily mean always pink! And Hyperfem can be an umbrella term for many aesthetics (Lolita, coquette, old money, etc. that help you embrace a youthful look and femininity!)

Ponyboy Curtis

-he sees you sitting under a tree, studying one day

-and he’s like Whoa

-the background is fitting, it’s just begun spring and all the flowers are blooming around you

-quite fitting indeed for your flowy dress with light pastel heels

-he really loves your style

-and loves that you embrace your femininity

-he would try to get you things that he thinks you would like

-he smiles when he sees a pretty fabric that reminds him of you 😊

-he compares you to a lot of similar women he sees on screen with similar style (Marylin Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, etc. maybe not time period accurate but whateverrr)

-“Hey uh Y/n! I saw one of those girls that dressed like you in the movie the other day!”

-absolutely draws you

Johnny Cade

-he thinks you’re stunning

-he really loves your style and how it stands out from most people

-I think fashion wise you two contrast pretty well with you wearing more lacy things and him wearing a jean jacket

-just an aesthetically pleasing couple tbh

-he calls you things like “lovely” “love” “princess”

Sodapop Curtis

-he also adores your style

-you two fit like a key and lock

-I think for even his time period sodapop is the most embracing of his own femininity

-and he loves that you can appreciate yours

-he would let you doll him up for fun

-like putting lace or bows in his jeans and hair

-he shrugs it off whenever the other greasers give him shit for it

-he’s simply above their opinions

Darry Curtis

-he’s stunned when he sees you

-you look as graceful as a swan

-his illusion is quickly destroyed whenever you fall on a rock, right in front of him

-and before you fall he quickly catches you

-and you awkwardly get up, uttering a small thank you with an embarrassed smile

-which he thinks is adorable

-I love you guys yall are such perfect husband and wife vibes

-he loves your outfits and you both are such opposites fashion wise

-💀he throws on whatever is clean

-while you spend thirty minutes deciding what to wear

Dallas Winston

-oh, he hasn’t seen a broad like you since New York

-he thinks you’re amazing

-all dolled up

-you two definitely met when he was catcalling you on the street (why is it always Dallas 💀😭)

-and you know walked up to him, in pretty neat strides despite your heels

-and gave him a hard slap (poor dal I always make y/n slap him)

-(cuz he needs it)

-but anyway he’s kinda like whoa… you’re feisty. Don’t worry, I like that. (bc he would say that 😭)

-and you would roll your eyes at him, giving him a polite hand gesture

-before storming away in your heels

-I don’t even know how he’d manage to date you it would take months of effort

-but once you both are dating you’re pretty cute together, and you try to make him less of an asshole

-(which idk what voodoo you pulled out to make that happen but it eventually works a little)

Two Bit Mathews

-when he sees you his jaw drops to the ground

-he really loves your style

-he touches the lace and various things a lot in admiration

-he shoplifts things for you that he thinks you’ll like

-“Aw, Two! This is so nice! But, where’d ya get it?”

-“Y’know…. Don’t worry ‘bout it, y/n.”

-he makes jokes but their kinda more just about admiring your outfits

-he’s really proud of you

- drinks less when you both are a couple

Steve Randle

-he pretends to not be super impressed and amazed at your style whenever you walk into the gas station

-but he totally is and talks to Sodapop about you way too much

-“Hey, but, did you see that one chick, y/n? With all the pretty clothes and stuff?”

-sodapop makes him talk to you next time you’re at the DX

-you actually think he’s pretty cool and you two hit it off really well

-even if you both have different styles and hobbies you both love learning about eachother

-he remembers all the small things, what perfume you like, what lipgloss is your favorite brand, etc.

[mouschiwrites]

hi hi! can I request some headcanons about the ninja (+pixal, if you're up for it) having an artist s/o? okay thank you, also I love your writing!

Oooh yess!! Where my artist ninjago enjoyers at⁉️ I’ve come to nourish you <3

Ninjago - Ninjas (+ Pixal) with an Artist s/o

Jay

Immediately asks if you can draw/paint/etc him

If you agree, he will ask again in the future

….honestly he’ll probably keep asking even if you say no

What can he say? He wants to inspire you ;)

If you have art block, he immediately jumps to pose dramatically or arrange a bowl of fruit or something

He’s equally enamored with the quality of your work and the fact that it came from your hands

He loves all your work, even the pieces you decide to scrap/re-do

“What are you doing?? That was perfect!”

“Jay? How long have you been standing there-”

On that note, he loves to watch you work

Even when you don’t know he’s watching… (he’s a little obsessed)

But the plus side of this is that he knows the exact products you use, and he can see when you’re running low

He makes sure to replenish your stocks for you :) so you won’t ever have to worry about running out mid-project

He also makes sure to flaunt your work as much as possible, especially the pieces he “inspired”

He truly thinks you’re the best artist in the world, and he WILL fight someone over it

Cole

I see Cole as a pretty artsy guy himself, so he’d be thrilled to have an artsy s/o

You might not expect it, but he’s really in tune with his feelings, so to me it makes sense

He’s not quite as artsy as you, but he knows how to appreciate it

He’s more into the performing arts himself, but he has no less respect for other types of art

He’ll totally arrange work sessions for you both, which vary depending on the vibe you’re working with

Feeling like doing something a little dark or moody? Dramatic piano. Candles. Wine/grape juice in wine glasses.

Feeling colorful? Open windows. Flowers in vases. Candy and fruit. Maybe some cartoons playing in the background.

Point being: he knows how to get a vibe going

He really loves to work alongside you, even if you’re not doing the same thing

Sometimes he tries to sketch or paint, but more often he’s just watching you work or practicing moves

(You guys totally have a shared studio btw; wood floors and barre for him, easel/supply cabinet/whatever you need for you)

You guys definitely help each other out too

He’ll teach you a few moves so you can be his dance partner every now and again, and he’s more than happy to be your muse in return

He doesn’t really do performances or anything (dance is just a side hobby), so he has all the more respect for you if you publicize your work

He loves all your work, but he’s also a great source of constructive criticism

“I like this one. It’s darker than your other pieces, though, isn’t it? More drab.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I was thinking. I think I was just in a mood when I made it.”

Kai

He’ll make requests, but mostly for things he thinks would be cool

“What if you did one with, like, a car shooting flames from its exhaust pipes? Oh! And the driver is super handsome with a flaming cape and swords and sunglasses that are made of pieces of the sun!”

“That is insane. …I’m starting right now.”

He really admires your art, and he’s honestly a bit jealous of your skill

He actually has a pretty creative mind, just not the means to express it

So he’ll be shy about it, but eventually he asks if you can give him some pointers

He doesn’t want to keep asking you to bring his sharks flying in jets over volcanoes to life forever, after all

He’s gotta learn to be independent!

So he’ll quietly join you while you work, watching you closely and trying to follow along

He gets frustrated when he isn’t instantly as talented as you, and you have to laughingly assure him that skill takes time

He only gains more respect for you as he tries to stay calm

He learns to truly admire your work this way

And with his admiration came a tenfold increase in support

However you share your art, he’s the #1 supporter

Posting online? He’s already liked, commented, and shared on 7 different platforms. At a showcase? He’s dressed sharply, stationed not-so-inconspicuously in front of your piece(s) and getting others to talk about them

Zane

He also has a deep appreciation for art

He doesn’t always understand non-logical things, but art has a way of resonating with him

So to have a partner who makes art…

It adds a whole new level of emotional depth to your relationship

You already make him feel complex things, so seeing art that’s from you is truly an experience

The wistfulness he gets when looking at normal art is only amplified when he remembers that your hands produced it

He likes to be with you when he admires it, squeezing your hand while he takes in the little details

He’s a quiet admirer, but he’ll absolutely attend any events you’re featured in/support any online presence you have

He never gets tired of looking at your work; or looking at you work, for that matter

If you let him, he’ll watch you work

He’s dead silent, which is either a blessing or a curse depending on how easily you get creeped out

Eventually, when you finish, he’ll stand up and join you at your side, admiring the final product

You know he likes it when he reaches for your hand with a smile, letting you rest your head against him

The most you’ll get verbally is “it’s beautiful,” but trust me, he feels so much more deeply about the piece (and you <3)

Lloyd

Lloyd is more curious than anything when he finds out you’re an artist

What kinds of art do you do? Can he see your work? Have you always liked art?

He’s eager to see your work, but he’s not sure he can “appreciate” it properly

You have to reassure him that there’s no one way to “appreciate” art, and however he feels about it, that’s just how he feels

Your response only increases his interest

He ends up getting more into art because of you

The art of appreciation, if you will

He wants to be able to understand your work more so that he knows how to support you

He mostly spends hours just staring at your work, trying to notice the little details

He’d love to watch you at work, too, if you’ll let him

He asks questions all the time, but still tries not to annoy you

He’s actually already a natural at “appreciating” art, but the fact that he’s always trying to learn only makes him better at it

So you can do nothing but smile while he tilts his head, carefully formulating his next question

They’re surprisingly deep at times:

“Do you think this piece uses smoother shapes because you were feeling relaxed, so you moved more slowly? Or perhaps you were just emulating your calmness subconsciously..?”

“That could be it. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“Oh, sorry, am I overanalyzing? Sorry-”

“No, no, you’re totally right.”

You’ll ruffle his hair affectionately, and he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulder while he continues to examine your piece :]

Nya

I’m gonna be honest, I don’t see Nya as the type to get all deep over the meaning of art

Like, if it’s pleasing to the eye she’ll appreciate it, but she doesn’t think about it too much

It’s just too abstract for her tastes; the pseudo-reasoning of art critics gets on her nerves

But for your work she makes an exception

Well, not really an exception—she doesn’t take to pseudo-reasoning

She knows you, she knows your feelings, so when she sees your work, she sees a piece of you in it

It’s something she doesn’t see in other art pieces; she doesn’t know the artist, so it’s nothing more than a visual piece for her

But with your pieces, she can dig deeper because she knows deeper information

That’s why she loves your work, and why she loves watching you work

You’re the only artist that makes her feel like she really understands art, and for that she appreciates you

(She still thinks that most critics talk out of their asses though)

On that note, she will fight your critics. She will hunt them down and make them regret ever trying to “understand” your work

“Tch, look at this idiot. He doesn’t even know what he’s talking about! He doesn’t know you!”

“Nya, he’s complimenting my work-”

“But he doesn’t understand it!”

Honestly you think it’s a little funny how she’s unintentionally become one of those critics who argue about a piece’s meaning

Only for you though ;)

Pixal

She has a vast trove of knowledge, but feeling is something she often struggles with

There are few things that actually give her profound emotions

Your art is one of those things

The fact that it came from you, that your hands crafted it…

It stirs something in her, and suddenly the shapes and colors come to life

She asks you about it often, trying to understand

“Why is it… calming?”

“Well, I suppose I used some pretty muted colors, and the imagery is kinda peaceful… I dunno, does it calm you?”

“Yes. It makes me feel calm.”

Obviously you’re proud of her for better recognizing her emotions

And she’s proud of herself!!

Your art helps her understand a part of her that she’s only beginning to explore

And, since it comes directly from you, she credits you with the help :)

She loves to see your finished work, but she also finds herself mesmerized by your creative process

Watching the piece come together, each motion bringing it closer to completion, helps her understand the art itself

She tells herself that it helps her understand her feelings, too

Even though she knows that not every piece is dedicated to her, she always thanks you for showing her your work <3

Thanks for this request!! And thank you for reading, take care you little rockstars <33

(divider by saradika)

[distortionbobble]

Royal Flowers Chapter 3

series masterlist

previous | next

pairing: anakin skywalker x f! reader

series summary: A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a certain Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker meets you, the current Queen of Naboo and adopted cousin of Padme Amidala, and is tasked with protecting you by pretending to marry you. As a spy, you’ve infiltrated the Separatist ranks and are close to finding out the mastermind behind all of it. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands.

warnings: minors dni! ageless blogs dni! none this chapter (although it gets just a little steamy) but the series will have eventual smut, canon-level violence and just general warnings.

a/n: if anyone’s curious i based the combat style on judo! i’m no expert in judo i’ve just literally been watching “best judo fight” compilation videos so if anyone has any recommendations or corrections let me knoww okay thanks bye! 

You can’t sleep. 

It’s been hours since you came out of the bathroom, the makeup scrubbed off of your face, skin raw from the heat of the shower. Anakin hadn’t even looked at you, and had only offered a grunt of acknowledgement when you had murmured a timid goodnight. 

You think you’re gonna lose your mind. You sit up in frustration with the aim of going down to the kitchens to get a glass of water, rubbing your eyes as you mourn your lack of sleep. Anakin shoots up from his makeshift pile of blankets on the floor, hand already on his lightsaber as he prepares to respond to whatever threat may be there. When he sees none, he relaxes, but his eyes stray to your form and the outline of your body under the silk nightgown. 

“Can’t sleep either?” You ask dryly, making your way off of the bed. You muss up your hair just in case you run into someone on your midnight journey, just so that they’ll think you and Anakin have been up to something other than arguing. 

“No, milady,” Anakin responds quietly. A heartbeat passes before he speaks again, breaking the tranquility of the night. “I apologize for how I spoke to you. I took my frustrations out on you and disrespected you. Your demand is not a foolish one, it’s important and I know that.” 

“I appreciate that,” you respond. “And… about what you said earlier, I do want to learn how to keep myself safe. Of course I do. You won’t always be there, I know that, but how am I supposed to learn? Who would have taught me? My parents died when I was young. I was left in the care of Padme and her family, but that meant that I was part of politics. Running things in the background to support the people I love.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Anakin offers, and you sit with silence for another moment. You take the chance to look at Anakin, the dark circles under his eyes, the shadows on his face, the scar on his eyelid. You have the strangest urge to run your fingers over his cheekbones, over his scars, to know every part of him. You don’t know why, but in the moonlight, everything is so much softer. But you keep it to yourself, sighing and settling on the edge of the bed. You draw your knees to your chest, eyelids fluttering shut to give your eyes some rest. 

“I’ll teach you,” Anakin offers suddenly. 

“What?” You ask. 

“I’ll teach you to protect yourself. You’re right, I won’t always be there, but you should never be defenseless. You’re far too important for that.” Anakin offers a smile to you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile, so subtle that you might have missed it had you not been staring so intently at him. 

“Thank you, General Skywalker.” 

“Anakin.” 

“Anakin.” You smile back at him, a tentative truce drawn between the both of you. You have no doubt that you’ll clash with him soon enough, a matter of personality differences, but for now, it’s nice to have him on your side. “You know, I wouldn’t be offended if you came and slept on the bed with me. I’m sure you’ve slept on the ground plenty of times as a Jedi Knight, but I can’t sleep here three feet away from you knowing my guard is sleeping on the ground.” 

“I suppose there only is one bed, isn’t there?” He grumbles, drawing up the pile of sheets that he’s slept in and tossing it at the foot of the bed. Despite the distance between you, you can feel the warmth radiating from him as he slides into the bed. “We’ll start training tomorrow, milady.”

“Goodnight, Anakin,” you smile, facing the wall. 

“Goodnight, milady.” 

~~~

“Wake up, milady.” It’s still dark when you hear him call your name, jostling your shoulder when you don’t wake up immediately. 

“Anakin?” You ask, rubbing your eyes. It must be right before dawn, for everything is so dark that you can’t make out the details of his face. “Is something the matter?”

“You asked me to train you,” he says. You hold back a groan, wanting nothing more than to bury yourself in your blankets and sleep for much longer. 

“Anakin, that’s sweet, but when you said tomorrow I didn’t think you meant before my brain even turns on,” you whine, but he’s persistent. He slides an arm under your torso, quickly pulling you upright as you protest at the sudden loss of warmth. You shiver from the cold, instinctively huddling in closer to Anakin before you realize and pull yourself away. He looks at you with an odd expression on his face, but doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to slide out of the bed and pull the sheets away with him. He folds his hands behind his back, waiting patiently for you to get out of bed. 

“Milady, I must advise that we train now. We should do it in secret, so that your handmaids won’t notice— after all, they are part of the reason that you wish to learn to protect yourself,” Anakin responds. You groan but get up, throwing your hands in frustration. You’re partly convinced that he’s just doing this to be a little prick— there’s not a chance in hell that this was the only time that you could get alone time with him. You’re newlyweds, it’s almost expected that you’d be sneaking off to spend as much time as possible between meetings. But no, he had to wake you before anyone else would reasonably be awake. But it’s not worth the fight. 

“Alright, then,” you sigh. But instead of moving away from the bed, Anakin moves to stand on top of it, looking at you expectantly. 

“We’re going to start with several throws. Now, I’m not absolutely certain about this, but I think you wouldn’t enjoy being thrown down onto granite,” he says impatiently. You get on the bed, mourning the lack of sleep as Anakin eyes you up and down. “In that?” He asks, referring to your silk nightgown. 

“Oh, good grief,” you complain, throwing your hands up. “At this rate there won’t be a point of waking me up before dawn because everyone else in the palace will be awake already when we do start! Can we just do it?” Anakin shrugs, reaching out to position you the way he wants. Anakin positions you standing shoulder width apart, one hand placed on the back of your neck and the other on your arm. The warmth of his palms on your bare skin sends electricity through your nerves, and you blink at him wide-eyed at the contact. With quick footwork he sweeps you on to your back, knocking the wind out of you with the added weight of his body on yours before he swings himself to your side, effectively pinning you down to the ground. 

“Try to move,” he instructs you, but as you wiggle around on the bed, you realize that he’s able to still pin down your shoulders. “See? Doing this gives you leverage. First thing to know,” he says, getting up and leaving you sprawled on the bed. 

“I see.. Was it necessary to do it without any explanation, or was that for your amusement?” You grunt, hoisting yourself up as Anakin watches you struggle rather unsympathetically. 

“For fun. Now,” He breezes past the admission, grinning when you gape at him, “What you’re gonna do is put your hand on the back of my neck and my arm, like I did.” He nods when you’re in the correct placement, turning his focus to your technique. “Now, turn your body so the hand that’s holding my neck is the closest side. Step sideways once, cross the other foot and step towards me, and then use the first foot to sweep the knee on the side that you’re not touching.” 

You step as per his instructions, sweeping him down but when you land, body pressed firmly against his, the door swings open to reveal Reyna. She sputters when she sees the position you and Anakin are in—  Anakin half naked, his thigh slotted between your legs, his hands gripping your hips,  your tits hanging above his face with only the thin silk material to cover you. The immodesty of it all makes you blush, too. Anakin, however, used his quick thinking and craned his neck up to kiss the exposed skin right above your breasts. You know it’s only so that she doesn’t get suspicious but it feels good, dammit, and you can’t hold back the whimper that threatens to escape you when his teeth nip softly at your skin. 

“I’ll come back later,” Reyna squeaks, clearly mortified. 

“That would be best,” Anakin responds, looking at her with half-lidded eyes and a smirk that makes heat run up your spine. 

When the door shuts, he throws you rather unceremoniously off of him, blushing a bright pink. 

“Sorry,” Anakin apologizes. The both of you lay on your backs, furiously avoiding eye contact as the situation’s awkwardness makes you wince. 

“It’s alright,” you say, pushing yourself off of the bed. “So, I’ll, um, see you later today?” 

“Yes, milady,” he answers, sounding distant. “Later today.”

[ofsappho]

Magindara

When invaders threaten your home, life, and people, you, a sirena, strike a desperate bargain with Dream of the Endless to save them all.

Dream of the Endless x mermaid!reader, one shot (for now)

Tags: war, gore, torture, death/murder, mentions of SA, slavery, things that generally come with colonialism

Inspired by the episode “Jibaro” from the Netflix show Love Death + Robots. This one shot draws heavily from Filipino mythology, culture, and history. I ENCOURAGE and INVITE people who don’t come from a Filipino background to read this story and enjoy! There is so much beauty to be had in cultures of color, for everyone. Just as I have read many stories steeped in Greek, Celtic, Norse, medieval England, etc cultures, without coming from those backgrounds, I humbly ask you do the same and entertain this little fic. Thank you. I may write a follow up if there’s interest. Glossary at the end.

-

From the banks of your river, you can hear the horses.

Metal plate clangs and screeches against itself, swords jostle in their sheaths, and shields bump where they rest on armored backs so loud that you want to scratch your sensitive ears out, just to make the sounds stop.

Your ates and kuyas hide deep below in the caverns known only to your kind. When you close your black eyes, you feel them tugging at the edges of your mind like little lights in the deep darkness of the sea. They believe that will be enough to save them.

Only you have braved the surface, because only you know what these strange men upon their strange beasts want.

They want the gold in the dark, fertile earth. You don’t understand why - it’s just shiny metal. Only the dwarves under the hills covet it. But the men who ravage your lands and your kin like wildfires, grasping everything and destroying it in the same breath, care very much. They want the never-dying orchids that line the banks and the brilliant emerald green vitality bursting from every leaf and vine that could keep a mortal alive for a thousand years. They want to feed their glory on your broken bodies. They want to take the people you protect for slaves, the women shamed and disgraced and the men subservient and humiliated.

You’ve seen it for yourself.

You’ve tasted the water of streams running red with blood, the iron like acid on your blue tongue.

You’ve swam farther and seen enough to make you hate. Families torn apart, children with their hair cut off and given names in an ugly language, forbidden to speak their own - the same language you speak. Fathers dragged onto large ships, larger than a butandíng, never to return. Altars burned. The men put your red sisters who live in the balete trees, their hair tangled with vines and lovely, fierce, flickering yellow eyes, to the flame. You witnessed their dying howls and curses for vengeance.

Some of the white-haired annani have already begun to clip their pointed ears, tear the crowns of flowers from their hair, and even cut out their tongues so as to lock away the magic these men desire, never to be spoken again. “There is no place for us,” Those tall, graceful elves told you. “We will be gone in a generation, by sword or by starvation.”

They’re coming.

The jungle is quiet as it has never been in a thousand years.

You could no more hide your tail, glittering blue and turquoise, with long, sweeping fins like ferns, than you could hide the long sweep of hair that reaches your waist, or the ink-black lines embedded on your skin, painting your face, your neck, and your arms with the story of your people and your home.

The calls that echoed from the depths of the river have stopped. It seems that your family has accepted that you won’t come back.

You look at your webbed hands, test your claws against your flesh. What is one magindara to a hundred conquistadors?

When the men spear you, they won’t just be slaughtering a mermaid. They’ll be killing the stories you keep. Centuries of stories. Countless names. Each pearl around your neck is a tribe, full of the old songs of grandmothers and the new rhymes of babies. You’re draped in thousands of shimmering strands of pearls.

You may not be the cleverest, or the most beautiful, or the one with the sweetest voice…

But you can be the bravest.

“Lord Morpheus,” You intone, frowning as the syllables ripple wrong and harsh from your throat.

You’ve never spoken to any of the gods beyond your islands before. “Dream of the Endless.” All you can do is hope and pray this one listens and comes to you in time. Will they be kind? Will it be merciful? Will he, or she, save your home?

Perhaps such a god does not exist at all, and you are praying to wind and sunlight, and soon your guts will color the cerulean water purple and black. The strange men will defile your body, no doubt. A week ago, you crawled from your river to cut down the corpse of a long-gone ate from a stake, jagged holes ripped into the tail of her corpse that made you vomit and her dead eyes full of pain.

Once you’d laid her to rest in the water, she dissolved into nothing. “Prince of Stories,” You sing. That is what faces everything you’ve ever loved if you fail.

“I beg you, save us. Save our stories, our dreams. We call for your aid.”

The men bark at each other. Any moment now, they’ll see you, your hands raised and your face tipped towards the heavens, inky flowers blooming on your forehead and cheeks and crocodile teeth tattooed on the sharp line of your jaw.

A new quiet falls over the world. Like nighttime, when things are resting, not dead.

You have called, and I answer.

A being stands on the banks of your river in the shape of a man. His hair is blacker than Bakunawa’s maw and his eyes are filled with gold and silver stars brighter than any you’ve seen before. His pale skin carries no markings.

He is as grotesquely, menacingly beautiful as the razor’s edge of shark teeth, as a great python curling in a tree, as an eagle with its claws stuck in the beating, bleeding heart of a monkey.

You feel the weight of his gaze on your brow heavier and hotter than the sun on the longest day of summer, burning out the truth in your heart. “I would bargain with you, Dream Lord. For my people, and my land, and my home, which I love more than my own life.”

What would you have me do? When Lord Morpheus speaks, his voice pours through your mind ringing like the purest, clearest freshwater.

The many jewels around your throat, pearls, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, plates of beaten gold, click as you swallow nervously.

The dream king stands so tall that he could touch the sky if he reached up. And he doesn’t look away or blink. You can’t read the inhuman planes of his face whatsoever, you can’t find any familiar sign in his long limbs that might bring comfort. For all you know, you’ve spelled your doom.

“Keep them alive. Keep our names and spirits alive. Bring our stories into your kingdom so that we won’t be forgotten. That is what the men want. They want to raze us to the ground and rebuild the world in their image but we will not go.” You pause. “We will never, ever go,” You growl, fierce and deadly, around a mouth full of fangs. In your words you pour the horrors you’ve seen, combined with the beauty surrounding the two of you.

The hot, muggy air, the warm rain, the scent of night-blooming jasmines. Orange mangoes, bursting with sweetness, bamboo sticks clacking as joyful youths dance in and out of them, laughing gaily. Rolling drums. Bright feathers tucked into black hair. A toddling child reaching out to her grandmother with a chubby-cheeked smile, pressing the back of the withered, ancient hand against her little forehead. Love, so much love.

I have not walked these lands before.

You found traces of Lord Morpheus scribbled in the margins of paper and in the back alleys of lost dreams. Your last and only hope.

When you went to Diyan Masalanta, she wept and showed how the soldiers bound her hands. When you cried out to her brother, Apolaki, the sun god called back and said the invaders took his shield.

Bathala is gone. Mayari is gone. Lakapati is dead. The conquistadors stripped her naked, cut her ribs from her chest, and planted her bones in the fields they set their slaves, your people, to work.

“They say you are Endless. You preside over all beings in all places. Please, I beg you, preside over us. Are we not worthy of your favor? Do we not deserve to live in your dreams and nightmares?”

If Lord Morpheus refuses you, you’ll cut your throat before you let your enemies have you.

He tilts his head like he can hear your thoughts. One shining hand stretches out, almost as if to touch your face. You sing prettily, little siren. You draw back with a start. Why is there hunger in his voice? A hollow, all-consuming, terrifying hunger?

You know what it feels like to starve when the fish are scarce. This is leagues away, a typhoon to your trickle of rain. Shadows bloom under his hollowed cheeks. His pupils eclipse his brilliant aquamarine irises.

He’s-

He’s aching.

Morpheus flashes his bone-white teeth as he bends at the waist to examine you further. His gaze traces your tattoos, your large, frightened eyes, and your body beneath the necklaces and bracelets.

As scared as you are, as convinced that you’ll bleed the instant his fingers brush your blue-streaked skin, your numb lips move.

“I vow to you now, Lord Morpheus, before every god and being I know, that should you render us this aid, I will give you anything within my power to grant that you wish.”

Anything?

“Name it, my lord, and it shall be yours.” With that, your eyes flutter shut as you await his judgment.

You can’t hide from him, even in your mind. You don’t see him, but you feel a straining pressure build where he prods at you, pushing on the fragile edges of your being like he’s cracking a duck egg. He claws and scrapes until-

I will aid your people.

You open for him like a sampaguita flower. Dream of the Endless picks through your soul like he’s picking blossoms, you feel how much he wants with every brush, every long moment where he sticks his fingers in and relishes the feel of you. Nothing has ever touched you like this before.

He’s on his knees on the riverbank, the dark soil pressing into his clothes. His hands clench the rocky edge of the bank. Your wet hair sticks to your back as you rise up, close enough that you can count his night-black eyelashes. There’s a dizzying amount of them.

“Thank you. Thank you. Salamat-po. And your price, majesty?”

You’ll do whatever he wants. Does his thirst demand souls? You’ll harvest them by the dozen. You can picture Lord Morpheus unhinging his jaw, swallowing those soldiers whole. Their swords wouldn’t even scrape him going down. Riches? You have no use for them if you’re dead. He can take every speck of wealth to be had.

You. I want you.

Your sisters and brothers wail. They sense the foreign king tearing at the flesh binding you together. They feel him taking a knife to your indigo heart and cutting it loose from your body. Your head tilts back as you gasp for breath and see him hold the organ aloft. Dark blood trails in rivulets down his wrists.

“I-“

There are no creatures like you in my realm. So I shall have you, in every way that I wish, and you’ll obey. Those are my terms.

Your tail lashes in the water as if you fight hard enough, you can swim away. The cavity pulses with searing, unholy pain. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve summoned- He is an aswang, a devil, a soul-eater, you’ll never see your home again, you’ll never touch the water you’ve known since birth.

Lord Morpheus brings your heart to his mouth. His lips are beautifully-formed. You can’t find it in yourself to hate such a wondrous creature. Even your amethyst ichor looks more beguiling when he’s covered in it.

It was never a question. “Yes, my lord. I accept these terms.”

His white teeth stain purple when he sinks them into your heart.

-

Glossary:

Ate (ah-tey) - sister

Kuya (koo-yah) - brother

Butandíng - whale shark

Balete tree - very cool large tree native to Southeast Asia

Annani - elves from the stories of the Ibanag people, who look like humans with pointed ears. They are kind guardians of the forest and often share healing knowledge with humans if treated with respect.

Magindara - mermaids from the folklore of the Bicolano people. Beautiful half human, half fish guardians of rivers/streams/lakes/the oceans, who sing to lure fisherman and warriors to their death but leave children unharmed.

Bakunawa - a great mythic serpent and god/goddess of darkness. Various myths place Bakunawa responsible for eclipses.

Diyan Masalanta - Tagalog goddess of love, war, childbirth

Apolaki - Tagalog god of the sun and war, patron saint of warriors, soldiers, modern day patron saint of Filipino traditional martial arts (Kali/eskrima/arnis) practitioners

Bathala - the Tagalog supreme creator god

Mayari - the Tagalog goddess of the moon, war, revolution, and justice. She fought her brother Apolaki for dominion over the heavens.

Lakapati - the Tagalog goddess of fertility, food, bounty, balance, and prosperity. She represents both male and female and has both male and female genitalia. Patron saint of queer/trans people.

Sampaguita - the Filipino name for sambac jasmine, the national flower of the Philippines

Salamat-po (sah-lah-maht poh) - thank you (utmost respect) in Tagalog

Aswang - overall name for the malicious/demonic/monstrous beings in Filipino folklore. Vampires, zombies, ghouls, organ eaters, cannibals.

I hope you guys liked this! Let me know if you have any questions or want to read more from this.

[justalildumpling]

⇢ just for you

pairing: best friend!chenle x reader genre: fluff word count: 628 warnings: jokes about murder, food?? note: going thru sad boi hours and i love chenle. chenle makes me less sad

“If we’re still single in ten years, let’s get married.” 

You and Chenle were sprawled across the rug on your living room floor, munching on the bags of snacks he had brought from his trip to the Asian grocers. Chenle’s focus which was once set on the movie playing on screen quickly averted to your figure, nonchalantly adjusting your position on the couch, shrimp chips in hand.

“That’s a stupid idea,” He replied, rolling his eyes at you.

“Why?” You sat back up whining, “We basically live with each other, know everything about each other and I wouldn’t mind if you were the one to kill me in my sleep so what’s the problem?”

Chenle snorted, shuffling back to reach into your bag of chips before placing a couple in his mouth, softly chewing on the savoury goodness. 

“Why do I have to wait ten years to marry you when we could just do it now?”

The hand that held your precious snacks halted mid-air, your head turning to face your best friend’s innocent eyes. 

You weren’t exactly sure how you were meant to interpret his response, was he finally done with the dating field? Was this his way of telling you that no one was ever going to love you? Or was it-

“Don’t tell me that you didn’t realise that I had a crush on you until now,” Chenle interrupted your thoughts, sending you a pointed look from below.

You sat in silence, blinking every so often at Chenle who now sat crouching on the floor, cackling at your obliviousness to his feelings. Though only laughter overwhelmed his current state, there remained a state of what seemed like disappointment. Maybe disappointment with your lack of response or maybe disappointment of what felt like a silent rejection of his confession, which — was not true at all.

You and Chenle met in the second grade when your homeroom teacher had seated the two of you together for an art project. You were a relatively shy child, opting to quietly pick up your paintbrush and sketch out a design on your own whilst Chenle sat with his arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with this arrangement.

“You don’t have cooties do you?” He grumbled, peering over at your poor attempts at drawing a field of flowers.

You merely shook your head as you pushed a small brush to his side of the desk, gesturing for him to join you. You remember him giving you that skeptical look, the same one he holds at you now for a few seconds before sighing and picking up the brush, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Fine, only because you look like a flower.”

Badump went your heart.

Your feelings only grew as the years went by, with you pathetically waiting for a sign of reciprocation. It wasn’t like Chenle was actively talking to you about other girls, in fact — he just didn’t seem interested in anyone, period.

Throughout the course of your schooling journey, you and Chenle did everything together. From being each other’s prom dates to going to each other’s respective sporting games, with no signs of romantic affection from him — it was only fair to assume that nobody had caught his eye yet, until now.

With Chenle’s infectious laughter bubbling in the background, you quietly spoke, “What about the ring?”

Chenle paused, whipping his head back around to face your cautious gaze. 

“Well, if we’re gonna get married, then I want a ring,” You mustered out, holding your hand out to him.

Chenle glanced down at your outstretched hand in awe, eyes widening at your unexpected response before letting out a short giggle.

“Just you wait Y/N. I’ll get you the prettiest ring in the world, just for you.”

taglist: @polarisjisung @wooyoung-a @w3bqrl @ficrecnctskz @rv7hsua @n0hyuck @neosdaisy @baekhyunstruly @rum-gone-why @xxxx-23nct @maeumiluv @produmads @shwizhies @dearlyminhyung @barbkh8450t @cupid-yuno

[littlemarianah]

WIP!

Where Katniss watches Peeta draw while their children play in the lake.

Here is just a little piece of my fanfiction in progress. "The Flower and the Willow"

Read and feel free to leave your feedback in the comments

"He sat on the floor next to me and took that thick paper from his sketchbook, found some charcoal pencils that he kept in his pencil case, and started doodling. It just seemed like random lines until started to formed a horizon line, then the trees and mountains in the background. He made the reflection of the water, smudging it with his little finger and erasing it with the eraser to give the details. He took a thinner pencil to make the thin grasses on the ground. Soon, that blank sheet of paper became like a photograph of the lake we're looking at.

“I don’t know how you are able to do that.” I said.

"What?" He raised his head, looking at me, coming out of a trance. He noticed that I was talking about the drawing and gave a sideways smile. "That's nothing." He tried to sound modest. “I was lucky they left me without a leg and not an arm.” I laughed and he seemed to enjoy hearing me laugh.

“Can you draw them?” I pointed to our children running along the edge of the lake.

He nodded. He turned the sheet over to the other side, to make use of every inch of paper he could. These drawing materials are a fortune and we couldn't afford too much. Peeta always had to use every last blank space and every last piece of pencil he had left before replenishing his supply.

He watched the children for a few moments. I think they were looking for worms in the mud. They were crouched at the edge of the lake, and unlike the landscape, they are constantly moving. I don't know how Peeta does it. He began to scribble with speed, lines, and curves. I began to recognize the parts I knew so well. Willow's slender ankles and two braids hanging down her neck. Rye's chubby cheeks with his blonde curls falling across his forehead. He immortalized them as I wished I could: small, innocent, and happy.

“Oh my god, Peet.” I whispered. I touched the paper gently, afraid of ruining it. “This looks so beautiful.”

“It’s just a draft. When we get home I'll paint it, and it will look more realistic.” Peeta told me, looking at me, while I admired his drawing with an open mouth. "Now you." He said, placing the pencil on the empty part of the sheet.

He ran his thick fingers through my hair, tucking my bangs behind my ear. I didn't really like this angle, this is the ear that the fire left deformed. This was the side of my neck and shoulder that had the most visible scars. I tried not to complain and just stood still. He moved away from me a little, and placed the paper on his thighs in such a way that I couldn't see what he was doing, only hear the sound of the charcoal scraping the sheet.

“You don’t need to stay so still.” he whispered after a while.

“I don’t want to ruin your drawing.” I said.

His eyes hunted me, captured my details and returned to the paper. I felt naked. Like he could see everything about me, every little thing I try to hide. His blue eyes sparkled every time they met mine, so loving. I laugh a little when he looks at me for a long time. I would think he was flirting with me if he didn't know we were married. My drawing took longer than the other two.

"Right! Here it is." He turned the clipboard towards me. I blushed a little. Peeta always drew me prettier than I really was. My brightest and most sensual eyes, my sweetest smile, my softest countenance. Even the scars were there, he didn't remove them. My thick, wrinkled skin from the burns felt smoother and my deformed ear wasn't so bad. I looked at him perplexed, he smiled and bit his lips in excitement. “I tried harder on this one. Tell me what you think”

“I look prettier than I really am.” I murmured.

"You always say that." He put down the pencils and put his arm around my neck.

“I liked it. It’s a very beautiful drawing.” I said to not disappoint him.

“I just copy what I see.” he smiled.

We just sat in silence watching the children run in the water."

[cornflakesdoesart]

So like, what if B’elanna and Kes dated each other, instead of their lousy boyfriends? Like what then?

My thoughts about them is under the cut, I just wanted to say some stuff in the tags but then I had too much to say :” D

[ID: digital drawing of B’elanna Torres and Kes from Star Trek Voyager, B’elanna is wearing her uniform with added elbow and knee patches and pockets to the design, Kes is wearing a multi layered green and purple outfit, they are sitting, embracing, looking at each other and smiling. The background is a lilac square, yellow stars and pale green flowers around the characters legs. End ID]

this is basically a crack pair lmao I think they never even interact in canon, but I had this ooold drawing of them that I wanted to redraw and then I had so much fun with it

Basically my thinking behind this was that I think their personalities have a nice contrast. At first I think B'elanna would think Kes is a bit of a pushover, but with time I think Kes would be someone B'ellana could feel safe with because she is so non judgemental, and that would be a good mix with how selfconcious B'elanna is of her klingon heritage and temper, that a lot of other characters give her shit for and neg her even when she is acting perfectly normal tbh. I think they would appreciate each other's work ethics and persistence slash stubborness when it comes to things they believe in. and I think Kes is maybe not written very consistently but I remeber her being very even tempered and I think maybe she could benefit from picking up some of B'elanna expressiveness or “temper’” so to speak. And yeah I think Kes could become someone B'ellana isn't constantly self monitoring and holding back in front of when they are together in fear that she is too much, too aggressive, too klingon, and maybe it could start that it's B'elanna who is helping out in the infirmary not Tom!

Basically their canon boyfriends are often/can be jelous, possesive, negging or controlling, especially and mostly Neelix, I wouldn’t say Tom is ever controlling and he gets pretty good as a husband, but still I didn’t really finish the series being swept up in their relationship so that’s probably why I was like but what if...women loving women? And you know if I was writing fic or could bend time continuum to my will and change the show I wouldn’t want Kes/B’ellana to be pure unproblematic fluff either cuz I do love some drama, but not the realisticly lousy boyfriend kind of drama I guess :”D

thank you for coming to my ted talk, and don’t take me too seriously, this is just a bit of fun :”))

[charrywoman]

No Amount of Freedom Gets Me Clean.

Part 1

OKAY. IS THIS GOOD?? IS THIS BAD?? I’m returning to my tumblr author era because I had this idea and just had to execute. I THINK IT WILL BE A SERIES BC I HAVE A PLAN?? WOULD ANYONE WANT THAT OR IS THIS A FLOP? LMK! anyway, enjoy:)

A crimson glow spread across your cheeks as he gently swiped at the smudge of chocolate in the corner of your lips. You giggled when he popped his thumb in his mouth and said something corny about how sweet you tasted. The laugh was fake, forced even, and anyone who knew you knew that. Peter knew that. It went unnoticed by him though as you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, murmuring a thank you.

“You know,” MJ sat down across from Peter and Ned. “I don’t think that angry scowl is going to make Harry’s head spontaneously burst into flames. Unfortunately.”

Peter didn’t bother to look away, shrugging as he said, “Maybe if I stare for just a little bit longer it will.” He was practically squirming in his seat with jealousy. It was torture watching you be so disgustingly but undeniably cute with someone like Harry freaking Osborn, but Peter told himself that he deserved it, so he kept watching.

MJ didn’t even have time to quip back because in the next second Peter was furiously whispering that you were walking toward them and demanding her and Ned act casual. She rolled her eyes. “You’re literally the one being a weirdo.”

“Hi, MJ. Hi, Ned.” You smiled, purposely ignoring Peter while emptying your lunch tray into the trash can beside their table. Three weeks ago Peter insisted that he, MJ, and Ned start sitting at the specific table.

It was weird for everyone to see you and Peter at such odds. The two of you had always been inseparable. Where there was you, there was Peter. It had been that way since you and your mom moved next door to Peter when you were 6-years-old. May called you “her Peter’s saving grace.” You came into Peter’s life just after he moved in with her and Ben, and she says that it was his friendship with you that made him blossom. And then came Ned. And then MJ. The four of you just made sense, but most of all, so did you and Peter.

You laid upside down on Peter’s bed while kicking your legs back and forth in the air, flipping aimlessly through a comic book that was already there.

“Wow. They’re really generous when illustrating your ass. It is definitely not that big in person.” You held out the page next to Peter’s own body and pretended to compare the two. “What are you doing reading comic books about yourself anyw-” Peter snatched the comic book from your hands.

“Heeeyyy,” you playfully whined, “I was just getting to the good part. You were about to share a passionate kiss with the girl whose cat you rescued from a tree. What a hero.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “You’re so annoying.” He sat down on the bed next to you, and you maneuvered your body to mirror his position.

“Yeah,” you agreed, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning over to press a sloppy, dramatic kiss to his cheek. “But you looovvveee me.”

You pulled away from Peter but left your head resting on his shoulder, and he instinctively laid his cheek against your crown.

“Yeah, you’re right. I do.”

Mr. Cobbwell was background noise as you doodled hearts and stars and flowers all over your notebook page. Chemistry used to be your favorite part of the day, it was the only class that you, MJ, Ned, and Peter all had together. Now, you dreaded it.

“Isn’t that right, Ms. Y/L/N?”

You looked up from your notebook paper for the first time since class started. “Uh, I’m sorry. What was the question? I was-”

Cobbwell cut you off with a sigh. “Don’t forget about seeing me after class, okay?”

You nodded and pretended to pay attention for a few minutes to satisfy him before going back to drawing. After Cobbwell called you out it felt like time was going by agonizingly slow. When the bell finally rang, you let go of breath you didn’t know you were holding.

As if it weren’t awkward enough, only you and Peter were left in the classroom when you walked up to Cobbwell’s desk.

“You wanted to see me?” You asked, toying with the strap of your backpack.

“Yes,” He sat back in his chair. “I want to talk about your grades, Y/N. What’s going on? You’ve dropped two letter grades since September, and you’re on the way to dropping another considering you failed the last exam. You went from being my top student to barely qualifying to be in AP Chemistry.”

You lowered your head awkwardly. It was silent between the two of you for a few moments as you thought of something to say.

“So,” Cobbwell continued. “That’s why I’ve assigned you a tutor. If you complete the 6-week assistance course and your improvement is evident on the next exam, then I’ll be willing to give you enough extra credit to keep you from entirely failing the course. But the grade you get at the end of the semester is totally up to you. No more favors. Sound good?”

“Mr. Parker,” Cobbwell waived Peter over to his desk. Both you and Peter stood in shock as you realized what was happening. “Peter is going to be your tutor for the next 6 weeks. The two of you used to be my dynamic chemistry duo. I want to see that again!”

This can’t be happening.

“Mr. Cobbwell, when you said you needed me to tutor one of your students I didn’t realize that,” Peter paused for a moment trying to find the right words. “Um. I didn’t realize you meant Y/N.”

“Is that an issue, Peter? I asked you to help a student who is struggling in Chemistry, and you said yes. Are you not capable of making good on your word? Do I need to find someone else for the job?” Cobbwell was lecturing now, attempting to make Peter feel guilty.

“No. No, it’s fine. I can do this.” Peter said as he turned to look at you. “We can do this.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Great!” Cobbwell clapped his hands together. “Then, get to studying! Y/N has plenty to catch up on.”

The frame of your body was shrinking as you hurried ahead of Peter in the hallway. He was out of breath when he finally caught up to you at your locker.

“You’re failing chemistry?” Peter asked, concerned. You avoided his question and continued shoving books in your lockers

“Hey,” Peter grasped your arm just as it was about to dive back into your backpack. For the first time in four months, you looked back at him. His heart was beating impatiently against his chest like it was waiting for him to pour out every thought and feeling he had since the last time you spoke to him.

Your face softened for a moment and Peter took that as his cue to continue. “Talk to me, Y/N. You’re failing chemistry? That’s not like you. You love chemistry. And you definitely love being better than me at it.”

You pulled your arm away from him. “It’s not a big deal, Peter.” You shut your locker door. “Look, let’s just get this over with and do what we have to do for the next 6 weeks. This doesn’t change anything between us.”

Peter nodded. Deep down he had already known that, but a small part of him hoped that just maybe it was going to change things.

Behind Peter, you noticed Ned and MJ walking toward the two of you with confused faces. “I’ll be at your place at 7 tonight. May still has dinner at 6 sharp, right? So, you’ll be ready by then. Great. See ya.” You didn’t even give Peter time to answer before you turned your back to him to catch up with Harry and his friends.

Peter was still watching you walk away when Ned and MJ reached him.

“Um. What was that about?” Ned asked.

“I think I’m Y/N’s tutor?”

Peter thought if he ignored the clock that time would go by quicker. He has spent the last half hour toying with the food on his plate, not daring to take a bite. He was nervous, but he wasn’t sure why. It was just Y/N, Peter had told himself. That’s just it, though. It was you. Peter felt like he had been given a second chance to fix things with you, and he wouldn’t mess it up this time. He was desperate.

Peter groaned when he looked at the clock again and only 3 minutes had passed.

“Okay,” May sat her own fork down to her plate. “What’s up?”

Peter hadn’t told her yet. He didn’t know how. “Hey, I know it’s been four months since Y/N last came over and then disappeared with little to no explanation at all for either of us, but she’s going to be here in 15 minutes!” May would just make a big deal of it and he didn’t need that right now.

As if on cue, two knocks came from the door. May looked at Peter quizzically, as if to say “Who could that be?” But Peter knew.

May opened the door. “Y/N?” She engulfed you in a tight hug. “Y/N! Peter it’s Y/N! Y/N is here. What are you doing here? We’ve missed you so much haven’t we, Peter? You know what, I’m going to go whip up a batch of those cupcakes you and Peter have always loved. The ones that are made with cookie dough instead of cake batter? I can’t believe this! Come in, come in!” May didn’t really give you much of a choice though since she was already pulling you inside.

“Actually, May, um..Peter and I have some studying to do tonight.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s fine, honey. It’s too late for sweets anyway. I’m always getting ahead of myself.” The disappointment in her voice made you feel guilty. You avoided her gaze, shifting back and forth on your feet as an attempt to no seem awkward.

Peter was fast to change the subject saying, “We’ll be in my room if you need us.”

A familiar flutter erupted in your chest when Peter opened his bedroom door. Star Wars bedsheets. Comic books. Action figures. Video games. Superhero posters. This was the best side of Peter, all the greatest parts of him splattered throughout his room like a trophy on display. There had been a time when all of it was just for you. Only you were special enough to know and love the Peter that lived behind these walls.

Your mom was out of town for a business trip, so you were spending the weekend with Peter and Aunt May. It wasn’t uncommon for you and Peter to have a sleepover. May had been babysitting you overnight practically since the first day you moved next door.

Peter was sitting at one end of his bed and you were at the other.

“Okay,” you tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Who are you crushing on right now?”

Peter went stiff. He had been crushing on the same girl since he was 8-years-old. “Um. No one really. I don’t really have my eye on anybody.”

“Ugh, Pete. You’re so boring!”

“Okay, fine. Who are you crushing on?”

A shy smile crept across your face. “I don’t know. Well, I guess if I had to pick, I kind of think Brad Davis is cute.”

Peter pretended to gag himself. “Brad Davis? You’re way better than that.”

You rolled your eyes at him, throwing the pillow in your lap at his head. “You’re probably right. Brad has definitely kissed like tons of girls, and I haven’t even kissed one boy! Isn’t that embarrassing? I’m 14, and I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Well, I haven’t had my first kiss either.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Should we just get it over with?”

Peter nearly choked on his own tongue. “W-what do you mean?”

“Peter, I mean should we just kiss each other and get our first kiss over with!” You explained like it was the most casual idea in the world.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Peter agreed.

You crawled up the bed until you were sitting right in front of him.

“So, how should we…?” Peter trailed off.

You laid your palm against Peter’s cheek and brushed your thumb back and forth a few times. You secretly praised your mom for making you sit down and watch all of those cheesy rom-coms with her. It made you feel prepared. Peter’s face was hot to the touch because he was blushing.

He was watching you innocently yet also so intensely. Before this, you couldn’t remember a time when you and Peter had been so intimate. You closed your eyes and pressed your lips against his. Kissing Peter felt natural. It felt like something you could do forever.

The kiss only lasted a few minutes before the door swung open. “Do you guys want to order piz- OH NO. MY EYES.”

After that, May decided that Peter had to sleep on the couch whenever you stayed over.

You were still basking in nostalgia when you sat down beside Peter at his desk.

“Do you want to start with atomic structure?” Peter asked. “It was covered in the beginning of the new unit, and I’m sure it will be on the next test.”

You ignored him, picking up a picture frame on the side of his desk. It was a picture of you and Peter on Halloween. You were both 10 and obsessed with Mario Kart. You begged your parents to let you dress up as Mario and Princess Peach.

“I can’t believe you still have this. I remember we ate too many gummy worms that night and May told us that we had gummy butterflies growing in our stomachs and we cried.” You laughed. It was the first time Peter heard you laugh in so long. It made him smile.

You looked back up at him. For a moment, there was a sense of normalcy between the two of you as you smiled at each other.

“Y/N, I-”

You cut him off. “Yeah, so atomic structure, right?”

[1moreff-creator]

How the LGI MV proves MonoTVid is both canon and a doomed ship

In this totally serious analysis post, I will show you, with 100% irrefutable evidence, that MonoTVid (the common ship name for MonoTV x David) is destined to be both canon and a doomed ship. This is in honor of them recently winning that one poll in The Website Formerly Known As Twitter, a poll which I do not entirely understand but one which I will respect regardless.

I will not accept any criticism on this post. I am objectively correct. If you find mistakes in this post, then what you’ve found is a mistake in your brain.

Obviously a TV, Obviously a Ship

Observe.

Now, do you understand?

If you don’t, let me spell it out for you. We have what is “obviously a TV” with terrorist iconography, which obviously represents MonoTV, nearby several elements which clearly represent David. The hair clips, the megaphone, the dummy. You’ll see “dummies” is plural, because David is a dummy. This is the first clue to the tsundenderish nature of David, as he is literally calling himself a “baka”, perhaps even of the sussy variety. If he calls himself “baka”, could he use the same word to describe someone else?

But the true indication of this ship is the lemon on top of the TV. See, the lemon in the story “Lemon” by the man who wrote the story “Lemon”, whoever he was, is a lemon which represents, despite being a lemon, a person’s will to live. If you want further context on this lemon, read the background text near the lemon when the lyric “make a lemon bomb” shows up on screen, near the lemon. You think I’m gonna post an image of the lemon text near the lemon? No. You should know the lemon text near the lemon by heart.

Anyways, this lemon is obviously on top of the TV to represent that MonoTV is David’s reason to live. There are no other possible interpretations.

But you may also see those dandelions, labeled “weeds”. Weed is what I’m taking to make this post. Not cannabis, I am sniffing dandelions. This is besides the point.

Now, you’ll realize that since dandelions represent happiness, and even hope, the point the video tries to make with them is that David sees these things as annoying weeds. This shows MonoTV and David both hate hope. They are clearly lovers.

But what you didn’t notice, and I know you didn’t notice for I am in your walls, is footnote 18: “A/N: soz not very good at drawing flowers lol!!!”. See, David is the author of these notes, which is obvious from things like footnote 11, the “I am an only child” one. What this footnote means is that David gave these flowers to MonoTV, but he’s embarrassed about it, because he doesn’t think any gift can match the divine splendor of MonoTV. David is just that sweet. That much of a cinnamon roll who can do no wrong. A skrunkly. A blorbo. What other words can I use to brainwash Tumblr users.

Now, look at these.

Look at the balloon and the Monokuma plushie. Does my inconsistent coloring of “the” bother you? I am very evil. You’ll see the balloon is labeled “stupid kid’s toy”, while the plushie is “a popular toy”.

Now, you might think this is another indication that David sees anything related to hope, like balloons, as inherently childish and stupid. Meanwhile, he sees anything related to despair, like Monokuma, as more grounded.

You are wrong.

You seem, MonoTV has stated Monokuma is its dad. So this being in the video means that MonoTV is David’s daddy and his toy. I’ll explain when you’re older. Just kidding, I won’t. Fuck that.

Not convinced?

Why? I am always right, so you shouldn’t doubt me.

But okay, I guess:

I Will Bring Up Color Theory For The Thousandth Post In A Row

I am not linking the accirax post for the fiftieth time. Look it up yourself.

Look:

Yellow for David, cyan for MonoTV. Many have tried to come up with an answer for what “original” means, but it’s actually really simple.

See, David has an I. You wanna know who else has an I? Dark blue, which may be J. And J is the mastermind. Here’s the source for that, it’s somewhere in that video, you just have to find it.

So, J, who is the mastermind and thus essentially MonoTV, has the same letter as David. This clearly shows David and MonoTV are lovers.

Here’s another case of a cyan I.

Boom. Theorizing’s easy.

Then, look.

David has game in yellow, then MonoTV has game in cyan. They’re lovers. Do you find another explanation? No, no you don’t. You will not think critically about this post. You are not immune to MonoTVid propaganda.

But, alas, the ship is not to last.

David is a Cat

At the beginning of the video:

David calls himself a cat, then MonoTV shows up to remind us it’s a dog. You might think it doesn’t mean much, but there actually is meaning behind David being a cat. See, it’s related to the archaic Japanese pronoun “wagahai”, referenced-

Nah, you don’t care about that. David’s a cat, source just trust me bro.

That’s what the black and white cat sitting next to David actually represents: David, tied by color scheme to MonoTV. I’m writing this on my phone and don’t feel like waiting to get to a computer to get past the 10 image limit, so we’re out of visuals.

Why is this important? Well, if you take into account the Romeo and Juliet quote that footnote 8 is attached to (here’s a screenshot), it’s clear the MV is trying to convey a story of two people in love separated by fate. This is clearly about David and MonoTV, which is further represented by David being represented by a cat when MonoTV is obviously a dog. Truly sad. Can I get an amen?

Are you not convinced yet? Crazy. Well, one last thing then.

It’s All Democratic

“To be or not to be? Who knows? Let’s decide! Democratic-ly”

You see how the rules for class trials are on the same image as democratic-ly? Well, this is a clear reference to the poll on The Website Formerly Known As Twitter. Since MonoTVid was chosen as the winner of said poll, it was chosen “democratically”, and will thus become a canon doomed ship. You might wonder if this means the dev has the ability to see the future. But we are not to speculate on the dev’s identity, so while we can’t theorize they are clairvoyant, we also can’t speculate they aren’t. Checkmate.

In fact, The Website Formerly Known As Twitter is now sometimes referred to as “X”, an obvious reference to the X on this screen. Because surely no one would be so absolutely idiotic as to just name the website “X” for no reason.

But hold on, isn’t this X actually Roman numeral 10 for Min?

Well, obviously. We never saw Min’s corpse in her execution, which means she survived and is the second mastermind alongside J. Min is still alive. Min is still alive. Min is still alive. Min is still-

Am I a Whit Young kinnie, but specifically for Min? No, obviously. Because Min isn’t like Whit’s mom, because Min is still alive.

The point is, Min is related back to MonoTV through her mastermind-y nature, and MonoTV to MonoTVid, I’m too lazy to actually continue writing this post.

—————————————————————————

Did you actually read this all the way to end? Are you okay? Do you need a hug? Because this is insane. I don’t know why I made this. Take care!

[poppy-metal]

Some Eddie things I like to think is canon:

•Eddie sitting outside the trailer on a summers night gently strumming his acoustic guitar

•Eddie feeding all the stray cats in the trailer park

•Feeding the cats with Eddie and they come and rub up against your leg and Eddie giving you the most offended look “it took forever for them to trust me” before pouting

•Eddie picking wildflowers for you just cause

•Eddie making you pot brownies because he knows you like to get high but only like shotgunning cause smoking makes your eyes water

•Eddie picking all the tomato out of your salad and eating it because they messed up your order

•Eddie playing the acoustic guitar as a background soundtrack when you’re doing mundane tasks eg cooking dinner, laundry, even brushing your teeth

•Eddie sitting on your thighs, you on your stomach, and drawing small sketches on your back

•Eddie giving you the puppy dog eyes and when you lean in to give him a kiss he blows a raspberry against your lips and giggles

•Eddie pinning up nsfw Polaroids of you around the trailer to see your flushed and embarrassed reaction

•Eddie using permanent marker to write “property of Eddie Munson” on all your underwear

•Sitting outside on the cool grass on a late spring afternoon having a deep conversation with Eddie and noticing he hasn’t said anything in a while and looking over and the boy has gotten distracted by a butterfly fluttering around

•Eddie hiding all your bras as a sign of protest “they like the freedom baby”

•Asking Eddie for a sip of his drink but instead of handing you the cup he takes a swig and leans over and dribbles it into your mouth

•Painting his minis on the couch while he sits at your feet and paints your toe nails (he’s actually really good because he has years of practice painting his minis)

•Sitting you on his cock keeping him warm when he’s coming up with a new campaign ideas cause “I think better when I’m inside you.”

•Playfully spanking you whenever you walk near him, one time he does it too hard and leaves a whole ass hand print, he’s apologetic at first but hooo boy does he get hard seeing you all marked up because of him. Kisses it better

•”what the fuck are you wearing?” - “what do you mean?” - “that jacket!” - “it’s cold outside??” - “who’s is it!” - “uh mine??” - “how DARE you, take it fucking off” he storms over pulling your jacket off before replacing it with his “don’t let me see you wearing this again” you always gotta have something of his on you

•matching clothes ✨

•Eddie ‘borrowing’ your scrunchies

•Leaving post-it notes for Eddie because the boy has ADHD and a gets distracted and forgets things so easily

•leaving little love notes in his drug box

•the group making fun of him but he doesn’t care because it makes him so happy that someone loves and thinks of him this much

•Eddie spraying you with his cheap cologne when you go out with the girls cause he knows by the end of the day your social battery will be drained and the smell of him grounds you

•Eddie using your ‘fancy’ (drug store) hair products cause they make his hair all shiny and smooth and as a bonus they smell like you

•makes you a mixed tape every time his fave bands drop a new album — you’re running out of room for all the tapes man

———————

Holy crap sorry I got carried away 😳 i had to cut myself off lmao

holds this post in my hands delicately like a flower.

[cosmicpearlz]

baby, it’s cold outside

summary: you convince your boyfriend to play in the snow with you after curfew hours.

pairing: xavier thorpe x reader

a/n: welcome to the 7 days of ficmas! cheers to day 1 (december 19, 2022)

…………………………………………………………………………….

xavier sat by his desk working on a sketch for you while soft music played in the background. he wanted to add it to your christmas gift knowing that you loved when he drew you anything. the picture was of your favorite flowers. the knock on the door brought him back to reality. he closed his sketch book and walked to the door of his dorm room. there you where dressed in oversized pajama pants (more than likely his), a hoodie (also his) and your boots. he’s quick to pull you in the room and shut the door quietly.

“hi my love, to what do i owe this great pleasure of a visit?” he smiled rubbing your arms before placing a kiss on your head.

“let’s go play in the snow!”

“wait, it’s snowing?”

“yes! look,” you enthusiastically pulled his hand to his widow to show him the snow that made the dark sky look bright. it covered the ground and was still falling down.

“so you snuck out of your room pass curfew hours, made it all the way over here without getting caught just to get me to play in the snow with you?”

“well yes. what else are boyfriends good for?” you grinned up at him.

xavier playfully put his hand on his heart like you hurt his feelings, “ouch, you wound me.” you push his shoulder with a laugh still waiting for his answer.

“of course i’ll go with you honey. but you’re not going just like that,” he points down to your outfit.

“what. why not?”

“you don’t have a coat on.”

“babe it’s fine. i’m sure it’s not that serious.”

he looks at you like you’re crazy. in no way was he letting you get sick because you didn’t have a coat on. he silently walked to his closet and pulled out two of his winter coats handing one over to you.

“please put the coat on love.” you put on the winter coat and zipped it up. the coat was almost drowning you but you didn’t mind too much. slipping into his boots and throwing on his coat, he nodded at you.

“see now we can play in the snow,” xavier grabbed his phone placing it in his pocket and holds his hand out to you. you smiled and latched your hand with his.

-

sneaking out was too easy being that everyone was truly sleeping or just didn’t care enough. you guys made your way to the quad uninterrupted. you immediately took off running into the snow. xavier laughed at you and followed you.

“c’mon xavi!” you threw the first snowball at him. he chases after you without a beat to miss throwing a snowball right back at you.

the two of you continued to act like children. just throwing snow and chasing one another. xavier was happy that he was able to make you happy. he lived to see your beautiful smile, he’d do anything to make it stay like that.

“come here!” he rushes up with a grin to finally catch you and grab your waist. you shrieked as he picked you up and spun the two of you around.

“baby! stop it!”

“you gotta surrender honey.”

“never!”

“never? okay,” he sets you down and then falls back first into the snow but not before pulling you with him. he pins you down and rolls to hover over you.

“you surrender now?”

“yes, i feel snow sinking into my pants and now i’m cold. my fingers are cold too,” you pout at him gazing into his beautiful green eyes.

“well baby it is cold outside and we unfortunately didn’t put on gloves,” he brings your cold hand up to his lips and kisses it.

“can we do movie night?”

“i’m down for a movie night,” he gets up and then bent down to pull you with him. you took one last look at the snow and xavier took the time to take a picture of you on his phone. you weren’t facing the camera but you were dressed in his clothes and looked absolutely beautiful. he made a mental note to remember to draw this picture, so it can hang in the art shed.

“shall we my darling?”

“we shall,” you grabbed his hand and lead the way back to the dorms.

-

you both take off your shoes and coats as soon as the two of you were safely in his warm room.

“first order of business is getting out these wet clothes,” xavier finds some spare pajamas for you and lays them on his bed along with some pajamas for himself.

“lift your arms up baby,” you lifted your arms up for him to pull the hoodie off of your body. once he tossed the hoodie on the floor, he goes to pull your pajamas pants down and tosses them on the floor too.

you had learned very early on that one of xavier’s love languages was acts of service. he loved doing little things like this to help you just because he loves you.

“now you lift your arms up pretty boy,” you smiled up at him still in your undergarments.

“you don’t have to do that babe.”

“you get to do it for me and i don’t get to do it for you? not fair at all.”

“okay okay,” he lifts his arms up and allows you to pull his shirt off. although, you had to stand on your tippy toes to fully pull the shirt completely off. you then helped him out of his pants just had he had helped you earlier.

“i’m starting to think you just wanted to get me naked.”

“yeah love, i totally wanted get you naked,” you walked to the bed and throw the pjs at him and it hit him square in the face. you let out a loud laugh.

“no need to get violent.”

“just put on your pjs, so we can watch the movies nerd.”

both of you got cozy on his bed wrapped up in the blankets with his laptop playing a christmas movie. these were your favorite nights and now it was better because of the snow. snowy nights and cuddles from your loving boyfriend.

“thanks for hangout with me in the snow my love.”

“sweetheart you don’t have to thank me. i love hanging out with you. plus you looked so cute in my jacket,” he smiled brightly at you and kissed your nose. you smiled back at him and placed a matching kiss upon his nose too. what a perfect night.



[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2022 Day 1: Summer

ao3 fic link.

“Spring is the perfect time to have a wedding,” Alex says. “It’s just warming up from winter but it’s not too hot yet, and you have all the pretty flowers which will look amazing in the photos.”

“But what about autumn? You have all the beautiful orange and red of the leaves and you could say the same thing about the temperature, it’s just cooling down, leading to winter,” Nia counters.

“But what about a beach wedding in summer? You could almost guarantee good weather and I showed you those photos of that beach wedding the other day, didn’t I, Alex? Those photos were stunning with the waves in the background,” Kelly says, looking at her wife for back up.

“They were beautiful but I still think a spring wedding would be perfect,” Alex replies.

“Yes, but…” Nia says, continuing the discussion but Kara tunes them out, feels the guilt building inside her again. She glances at Lena, can see the same guilt in Lena’s eyes.

Kara leans closer to Lena so they can’t be overheard. “We have to tell them.”

“I know,” Lena whispers back. They’ve been trying to tell their friends for a week, and on multiple occasions they’d been interrupted by an emergency so didn’t get a chance, and on a couple of occasions they’d both chickened out and decided to do it later.

But it’s later now and their friends and family are literally sitting around planning a wedding that isn’t going to take place.

Not because they’re not getting married, but because they already are.

They’d been engaged for exactly seventeen days, seventeen wonderful days when Kara had referred to Lena has her fiancée whenever she could, until Kara said she couldn’t wait to get married and Lena agreed and then they thought, why not? So, they just did it, and now Kara has had a wife for eight days and it’s time they break the news to their family.

“I love you,” Kara whispers, earning a quiet, “I love you, too,” from Lena and a kiss on the cheek that has Kara not regretting her decision. Sure, her sister and their friends are going to be upset that they missed them getting married, but Kara is the luckiest woman in the world to be able to call Lena her wife.

“You two have been awfully quiet, don’t you want to weigh in on plans for your own wedding?” Nia asks, drawing them both back into the conversation.

“Uhhh…about that,” Kara starts, glancing at Lena for help.

Alex misreads the hesitation. “If you want a long engagement, the wedding doesn’t have to be this spring, it could be next spring.”

“It’s the opposite, actually,” Lena says.

Alex glances between them both, trying to figure them out. It’d almost be easier if Alex did figure it out, then Kara wouldn’t have to be the one who would say it. The one thing she wishes for that day was that Alex had been there by her side, but she’d been too excited and too in love to really think it through. She’d just wanted to be able to call Lena her wife as soon as possible, everything else had been in the back of her mind.

“The opposite?”

“We wanted a short engagement.” Kara uses the past tense, but Alex doesn’t seem to notice.

“Spring is perfect then! It only gives us a couple of months to plan so it’ll be a bit rushed but we can do it.”

“What my…Kara, is trying to say,” Lena says, Kara not missing the almost slip. Since they got married, they’ve both been using the ‘W’ word as much as possible, but only when they’re alone of course. “Is that we wanted a short engagement…so we got married already.”

The last few words are said quietly, Lena not looking at their friends as she says them, but Kara is watching, wants to know what they’re thinking, how they’re feeling.

It takes a moment for Lena’s words to register, everyone clearly trying to figure out if they heard Lena correctly or not.

Alex is the first to react.

“You got married already? What do you mean, you got married already??”

“Umm…” Kara swallows. “It means we couldn’t wait and spontaneously went down to City Hall and got married.”

“Are you serious?” Alex asks, glancing between the two of them. “You actually got married?”

Alex doesn’t say it, but Kara hears the, “without me?”

“I’m sorry,” Kara says, reaching across to rest her hand over Alex’s. Maybe she should’ve just told Alex first, but it’s too late now. “I’m sorry we got married without you, I’m sorry I didn’t include you in one of the best days of my life. If I could do it again, that’s the one thing I’d change. I don’t regret it though,” Kara adds, because she doesn’t. “All I wanted was to be married to Lena and now I am. And it’s not the actual day that’s special, it’s the life we are going to live together. With you. And with everyone,” Kara adds, looking around the room at their other friends.

Alex sighs. “You don’t do things in halves, do you?”

Kara thinks that if that were true, they would’ve had a big wedding instead of just signing the papers, but she doesn’t say that.

“We can still have a party,” Lena says, taking Kara’s free hand. “It won’t be a wedding but the point is to celebrate our new union and we both want to celebrate that with our family.”

“That’s a great idea!” Nia exclaims, tearing out a page of the notebook she’d been jotting notes down in and starting a new page fresh.

Kara relaxes, and she feels Lena do the same beside her. No one is as upset as they’d been expecting.

“Congratulations,” Alex says. She stands, arms outstretched towards Kara and Kara gets the idea and stands too, pulling Lena with her. Alex’s arms wrap around them both and Kara leans into her sister’s touch.

“I said this when you and Kara got engaged and I’ll say it again now, welcome to the family,” Alex says, words directed at Lena.

Kara beams, they are family now, officially, and Kara’s never been happier.