#//but she can be a select array of forms

[crystal-grotto]

//I wonder if TES!Alex would look like a Nord...

#taking a break - ooc #//I'm thinking yeah #//but she'd still be a shapeshifter #//but she can be a select array of forms #//thonkle emoji #//maybe trollhunter/TES mashup would allow for her to be a polymorph

[adelheidvonschicksal]

⋆｡°✩ Do Roommates Sleep Together?

“We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but the delicate foundation you built cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt. “Do roommates sleep together too?”

Synopsis: Your relationship with Xavier is unconventional, skipping and trampling on the many proper steps society deems appropriate. It should take months to form the trust needed to sleep together, and it should take years for you to ask him to move in with you.

Yet, here you are, with more courage to ask him to live with you than to tell him you’re in love with him.

Content Warning: fluff, suggestive dialogue, pining, literal sleeping together, a lot of internal exposition, mild angst, hurt/comfort, acquaintances to friends to lovers, implied soulmate tomfoolery to justify the fast burn, small references to chapter 4 main story, Heartstring Symphony, Nighttime Stroll, Shooting Stars Myth, and Unit 602's Representative Phone Call, Xavier sucks at following the non-interference policy (he tried his best), female reader, 6.5k words, safe for work

A/N: First section before Warm Wishes/Dreams within Reach tender moments and second section after Close Feelings tender moment to give a better timeframe. This is going to be two parts with the second part NSFW.

“Do you want to hang out at my place?” 

Your smile begins to flatten as Xavier stares at you from his doorway. There’s a listless energy radiating from him. It’s intimidating even if there’s no anger behind his hooded gaze, the kind of intimidation where you’re afraid he might not be listening to you or even wants to listen to you.

“This new scary movie came out. Tara was supposed to watch with me, but she had a last-minute thing to take care of,” you explain, watching as he yawns and wipes his eyes. “So, I thought that maybe you’d like to watch with me instead. Or, we can do something else. I got games. Monopoly, Phase 10, Kitty Cards.” 

Xavier rubs at the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eye. “Are you sure you want it to be just the two of us?” 

There are many things to be said about your relationship with Xavier. You’re work partners, neighbors in the same apartment complex, and you consider him your friend. It’s also true that your friendship is young despite the many hours at the arcade together and whatever stories your co-workers like to imagine, making your offer sound more like a date invitation than hanging out. It causes you to go tongue-tied as your innocent mistake blankets you.

“Oh, not in that way! I mean not that it would be a bad thing.” You start to lose your composure when you meet his gaze again. It’s not like you wouldn’t go on a date with him if given the opportunity. He’s tall, soft-spoken, and very handsome. It’s more surprising he doesn't have a girlfriend. “I was thinking it could be a good way to foster friendship between hunters. Yeah, that’s it!”

The truth was that you were looking for something to distract yourself ever since the incident at your grandmother’s house. Tara having to cancel bummed you out more than you wanted to admit, but you didn’t want him to agree because he felt sorry for you.

“I understand,” Xavier cuts in. “I’d be happy to join you…in an hour,” he finishes with another small yawn. 

“Great!” you cheer. “See you soon.”

When you make it back to the elevator, you’re taken aback about how happy you are that he agreed. You thought you were simply happy not to have to be alone on your day off, but this was a different kind of satisfaction than when you invited Tara. It was a little strange but you ignored the thought and clicked the button to your floor. 

When Xavier arrives, everything goes as planned. You spread out an array of snacks on the table in front of the sofa, which your selection seems to be approved by how quickly he opens the package of chips and hums to himself when he takes a bite. 

“This is supposed to be super scary! I read you won’t sleep for days after,” you tell him, grabbing the remote to play the movie. 

“For days? Sounds awful,” Xavier mentions between bites, making you chuckle. 

“If you get scared, you always have me to protect you.” 

“I’m more worried about you than me,” he mouths off. “You always look like a statue when I tell you scary stories.”

“Fake movies and stories based on real places are different!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he agrees on the surface. You’re not sure how you only make friends with people who love to tease you, but you make no mention of it as the movie finally reaches its opening sequence. 

It doesn’t take long for you to realize this movie’s fear factor was greatly over exaggerated. There were monsters, sure, but also one too many jump scares and dark scenes that made it hard to tell what was happening. Fighting wanderers for a living did leave you a bit desensitized as well, you guess. 

As you reach to fill in your boredom with more chips, you can’t help but notice how Xavier looks like he’s about to give out any second. His eyes are drooping and his head bobbing to the side. You lose count of how many times he forces his limp body straight and strains to watch the movie playing on the screen, one agonizingly slow blink at a time.

“I’m fine,” he says before you can bring up how tired he looks.

“It’s not a big deal, Xavier. This movie is pretty boring, so if you wanna call it a night, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.” You don’t want him to leave yet but you don't want to keep him up either. Sighing, you’re frustrated the movie isn’t as exciting as you thought it would be, and it’s difficult to fight the disappointment from showing on your face. 

And, well, Xavier…

“It’s alright. It’s honestly not bad, so—”

Xavier doesn’t even finish his sentence before his head hangs over. In hindsight, you start to realize that you must have woken him up earlier, explaining his prior passiveness.

You always wondered what he did on the days he wasn’t working. It should’ve been apparent to you that he spends most of his free time sleeping. No wonder his apartment was always so quiet during the day. You’re thankful he wasn’t actually annoyed at you earlier but guilty for interrupting his rest and decide to grab him a blanket.

You don’t notice him tilting to the side before you have the chance to get up. It’s quick after that. Without warning, he falls into you, his head brushing the side of your shoulder before he collapses on top of your lap.

The situation takes you by surprise, and the world churns to a slow stop. The sounds from the television fade into the background in favor of your heartbeat becoming the thing you’re most aware of when it registers that Xavier, a man you recently can call a friend, has fallen asleep in your lap. You have no idea what to do in a situation like this. It isn’t on purpose, so there’s no need to blow up, but you can’t allow this to continue.

So, you choose to wake him up.

“Xavier,” you call and rock his shoulder. You call his name again, a third time, and finally give up when he doesn’t budge by the fourth. “Would it be too mean to roll him off?” you wonder, grimacing as you imagine him hitting the floor. It would definitely be too mean.

Sighing, you gaze at his face nuzzled too comfortably against your thighs. Xavier looks so incredibly soft like this, bundled in an oversized Blanchi hoodie. It isn’t anything you’re not used to seeing him in. However, this is different. With his hair strewn across his temple and his face so at ease, it reminds you of a big fluffy bunny flopped over for an evening nap. Just like a cuddly bunny, you can’t resist petting him, brushing your fingers across his bangs to fix them. Your heart flutters as you confirm his hair is incredibly soft and his pale eyelashes longer than you ever noticed.

Not able to restrain yourself, you gently poke his cheek, marveling when it’s much chubbier than you imagined. It causes him to moan, his eyes twitching from the intrusion.

“Mm…what?” he groans out.

Swiftly, you pull your hand away, frightened he might have caught you.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” you stammer out, not the best of excuses; but in your defense, he caught you off-guard by waking up from something so small. When he doesn’t respond again, you quickly realize he’s still asleep. “Oh, he sleep talks!”

A mischievous wave washes over you from the new piece of information you acquired. Teasingly, you poke his cheek again, giggling when he shifts to hide his eyes from the light.

“Xavier, I have a question to ask you.” You slide your fingertips along his bangs once more. “Be honest. Are you Lumiere?”

Patiently, you wait for a response. However, nothing comes after several seconds. Just when you’re about to give up hope, you hear him muttering. You lean your head closer, hoping to hear him better.

“Red…” he mumbles.

You repeat after him. “Red?”

“Red…extra spicy.”

You blink at him, knitting your brows. “Extra spicy?”

Oh. The hot pot restaurant.

“Dreaming about food? That tracks.” You shrug. It was worth a shot. “Fine, keep your secrets.”

Choosing to leave him be, you’re about to sit back and continue the movie except you are interrupted by him mumbling again. This time, he whispers your name quietly under his breath causing your undivided attention to fall on him.

“Yes?” you ask.

Xavier sighs softly, peacefully.

“Come home…with me…”

There must be a world record for how fast someone can heat up, and you must have broken it. It’s like someone threw you directly into boiling oil and left you to burn in it. There’s no way you heard him correctly.

Did Xavier really ask you to come home…with him? Is he dreaming about you? If so, in what kind of dream? And why?

These are the questions stumping you. Sure, you consider him your friend, but when did he start to see you as someone close to him?

The more important question is why aren’t you doing anything about it? You aren’t angry about him whispering your name in his sleep nor offended, and it didn’t feel out of place to be close to him, like this, with his head resting in your lap and your hand in his hair. The moment becomes nicer and nicer—treasured—the more times you run it through your head, familiar even, like déjà vu.

There are too many variables for your brain to piece it all together in such a short amount of time. Praying for the tempest battering your emotional insides to reside, you resign yourself to your fate, allowing him to have his peace while your mind completely focuses on the words slipping from his dreams.

When Xavier begins to stir hours later, your movie is long finished, credits rolling as some dramatic music plays in the background. His eyes tighten then relax before he finally opens them, greeting you with hazy blue. He lifts himself into a stretch then rubs his eyes with his wrist. When he finally adjusts to his surroundings, he looks at you with an apologetic sulk.

“Did I…fall asleep on you?” he asks, grogginess still riding his voice.

“Literally or figuratively?” you ask as a joke, but it doesn’t seem to comfort him. Shaking your head, you try to ease the tension—the one known by him and the tension inside of yourself—by laughing. “It was both.”

Xavier blinks a few times, turns his head to the screen to see the credits rolling, and snaps his eyes back on you questioningly. “And you let me for two hours?”

“You looked really tired,” you explain, ignoring how hot your cheeks start to get. You couldn’t tell him you got distracted by his cute face. “I didn’t want to move and wake you.”

“I don’t wake that easily,” he states, proudly even. You almost tell him how well everyone knows he can sleep through a typhoon, but it’s drowned underneath the softness of his smile. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

The look he gives you is so tender, like looking at a fond memory. It brings back the fluttering knots in your stomach from before as you imagine what could be the true reason behind that gaze. What could he possibly be thinking in his waking moments that would make him dream about you?

“Xavier, do you know you talk in your sleep?” The confused and panicked, deer caught in headlights expression, he gives causes you to fidget with your fingers and drop your gaze to your lap where they lay.

His face tinges slightly. “Nothing too embarrassing I hope.”

You bite your bottom lip as his face reddens. He looks so sweetly shy for once, and you’re starting to question if you’re overreacting by confronting him about something as silly as a dream, one that probably didn’t mean much.

“You tried to order food in your sleep!” you tell him with a small laugh, and his shyness melts away.

“I did? What did I get?”

“Red sauce. Extra Spicy.”

“Then, I guess that’s what I’ll get for dinner tonight,” he remarks. He doesn’t laugh but you can see the amusement reflected in blue eyes, which makes you return his happiness. Yet, the calm moment is short-lived as your mind becomes overwhelmed again by questions you were too nervous to ask; and a small piece of you, too afraid to know the answer.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, drawing you out of your rampant, clashing thoughts. “You look sick.”

“I do?”

He nods, his expression softening.

”Are you still thinking about everything?" he pauses, his worry becoming more visible as he looks at you. "It must be difficult.” Your head blanks at his words. You weren’t aware Xavier gave you enough attention to notice your mood was different. You thought you did okay coming to terms with everything at least while at work to where he wouldn’t notice. 

“It’s been a pretty rough week, weeks, actually. I haven’t been sleeping well either,” you agree, struggling to keep your mind anywhere else but there. You’re sure you must look exhausted though. Your under eyes have been darker, the days you could convince Jenna you didn’t need any more leave a bit sluggish, and even Zayne warned you not to lose yourself in grief. It’s easier said than done.

What you don’t expect is for Xavier to grab your wrist and pull you closer.

Xavier normally isn’t the one to draw you, or others for that matter, to him. You’re the one who's been taking the steps to get to know more about him. Offering to help him get his plushie, bargaining with him into becoming your partner, asking him to watch movies with you, while he always seems to keep you a little at arms length, not opening up as much as you wish when sharing stories even when sometimes he looks like he desperately wants to before deciding against it.

Your eyes widen when your nose hits the side of his chest. It's strange to have him be the one pulling, failing to keep his boundaries and also testing them. You don’t want to push him away though. You liked this. Maybe because he was handsome. You hear pretty people can get away with anything, but it feels like more than that. Tara might have been right. Maybe you do have a crush on him but you didn’t care the reason right now when it’s so comforting. You can feel his muscles underneath the thick, warm fabric of his hoodie, and the clothing smells so nice. You can’t help thinking he definitely feels like a bunny too.

“Sleeping is much better with someone.” 

“How do you know?” you mumble against him.

“Well, I just had the best sleep I’ve had in days thanks to you. So, allow me to return the favor. I’ll be your pillow this time,” he offers; and surprisingly, your eyes do feel oddly heavy when his soothing voice reaches you. “Relax. I promise not to move for at least two hours, but you can take more if you like.”

”How kind,” you say with a smile, and it feels genuine.

Once again, you get the same familiar sensation from before, that same odd suspicion this has happened once before—or rather it’s supposed to happen? You’re too tired to think about it. You close your eyes to the most blissful dreams you’ve had in weeks.

When you wake up again, it’s not by choice. Xavier is looking down at you, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulders as your head lays on his chest. Your mind is still trapped halfway between being awake and asleep when he begins to talk.

“Welcome back. Did you sleep well?”

You nod. “Real well actually."

Xavier says something else but your tired mind misses the majority of it aside from the fact it’s getting late.

“You can spend the night if you want,” you tell him, allowing sleep to win back over as you try to close your eyes again, but he lifts you away from him, your head swaying with the motion until you find a place to prop your forehead on his shoulder. Your mind echoes with the thought of how soft his hoodie is and how you need one like it as you try to drift back off. Xavier is right. Sleeping with someone else is better, and this closeness you’ve been missing since you lost your family makes you needy. 

“It probably wouldn’t be appropriate.”

For some reason, it hurts to think he's back to pushing you away. Even though, it shouldn't.

“But you didn’t get a chance to watch the movie,” you reply, looking for an excuse for him not to leave. “It’s a 48-hour rental, so we can try again.”

Xavier shakes his head, gently poking at your forehead to force your head back. “I’m sure it’ll be twice as boring for you the second time.”

“If we watch it together…”

He meets your foggy gaze apologetically. “I don’t think we’d get very far.” 

“We won’t know until we try,” you argue drowsily. 

“You don’t look like you’d make it another ten minutes. You belong in bed.”

“I can,” you whimper as the too-bright lights of the overhead fan hit you. 

“Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result,” he murmurs softly, almost teasingly until his tone takes on a seriousness you’re too lethargic to grasp, “Isn’t that insanity?”

“I like to call it determination. Who knows? Maybe this will be the time it works,” you joke. Instead of the smile you expected the look on his face is pensive and a little sad, like you touched a delicate spot. The sudden remorse wakes you up almost immediately. “Xavier?”

When he realizes you’re watching him, the longing in his gaze melts into something you can’t describe, other than the fact it makes your heart climb in your throat. 

“Alright,” he agrees, much to your surprise and relief. “Let’s try again…but tomorrow.”

Frowning, you avert your gaze, which makes him pet your head. 

“Don’t pout. Tonight, I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, moving back to rest your head against his chest.

Maybe your grandma wouldn’t have liked you getting so close to a man you didn’t know much about so quickly. Caleb would at least have a few questions, but your intuition tells you that you’re making the right choice when his arm goes back around you. As you start to drift off, you can swear you hear Xavier laughing at you under his breath. “You’re as impossible to say no to as always.”

You’re not entirely sure what time Xavier went back to his apartment that night, but the next morning you wake in your bed, looking forward to seeing him again. You only hope the sweet and confusing fact that you’re in love with him, of the parts he shows you when you’re alone, stays in your dreams the next night and the many nights following that you share with him.

Over the months, as your relationship with Xavier grows stronger, you find it common to share many things with each other. You play online games, house sit for one another, grow strawberries, and usually go home together after your deepspace trials. Most interestingly, you two take naps together on your days off sometimes, nothing sexual about it despite what Tara and her Tarot cards believe. Sure, there might have been questionable situations, but it was all innocent in the end. It's often a short nap in the afternoon after running errands or having lunch together. It's one of those days that you finally build the courage to bring up what's been on your mind for a while now. 

It's late when it happens.

The skyscraper lights begin to glow through your balcony door, blinking out the gentle shimmering of distant stars that managed to cut through the trickling rain earlier in the evening. It’s a little disappointing to lose sight of the stars. They’d become a comfort for you in the time you’ve spent with your friend. You'd never given them much thought before then.

The downpour of rain splattering against the glass panels of the balcony makes the city lights milkier to your sight and the steady dripping of water returns some form of calmness when paired with your neighbor’s breathing next to you.

It’s deep and warm, ushering you towards the world of dreams. Everything about Xavier is like a white noise or a desperately needed hug, which is why you’re curled up at his side in this bed that’s too small for the both of you. You didn’t care, and you suspected Xavier didn’t either.

He didn’t mention the smallness of the bed when you offered to take a nap together nor when your head found the bulge of his bicep to use as your pillow. You didn’t give him time to respond when one of your hands slid across his lean chest, reaching for his always subtle pulse. You find the lazy pattering easy to count while the heat in the sheets become much more apparent when you feel the weight of his touch cradle that very same hand to his chest as if promising every beat to you.

Everything about the situation causes your eyes to flutter with tiredness, but you want to savor this moment a little longer. In case this is all an elaborate dream. You hope to death it’s not. So, you force your eyes to remain open, releasing a soft sigh instead as you cuddle into his arm.

Too soon, you feel Xavier slipping further away from you.

You don’t want him to go yet. More than ever, a force inside you needs him to stay tonight, and you lock your grip on the white knit shirt he wears. You tug him back over to you to close this unbearable distance he made. The few little inches he moved were more than enough to cause your heart to yearn.

“Not yet,” you want to plead but make it a soft demand. “I just found the perfect spot.” You muffle the neediness of your requests into his skin, though your head is afraid that somehow he’ll feel it.

“You always use that excuse.”

“And it’s always true. So, no moving,” you order.

Xavier gives in so wonderfully quickly. Your heart is rapidly firing when the corners of his lips turn into his usual waif-like smile. You fail at hiding your satisfaction at his surrender, pressing more of your weight against him, in a sure sign to him that you have no intention of letting him escape any time soon.

“I take this to mean you’re finally admitting it’s your fault we didn’t do our errands today?”

“I never said that,” you disagree half-heartedly. “And don't pretend like you weren't the one who kept saying he didn't feel like getting up earlier.”

“And now that I do, you won’t let me up. Am I right? Why’s that?”

There’s a beat skipping in your chest when he asks. His tone is light and open, easy to treat as a teasing joke but also firm enough to be taken seriously. That was always your trouble with him. You could never quite tell what he was thinking and when he was serious. Xavier is hard to understand sometimes, sometimes vague and sometimes very straightforward in his words; and lately, you think he’s consistently more hot than cold towards you ever since the first time you've slept together.

You like to think this development is a good thing. People who knew you always said you worked a little too hard, a little too observant, overly energetic despite your fragile heart; but with Xavier, you could relax. Moments like these: when his arm was around you and when his breath was at the side of your neck, the soft words he speaks in his sleep dancing in your mind, were the moments when patrolling for wanderers and every loss in your life from your family to your problematic heart dissipated into the back of your mind for a few hours.

It isn’t an exaggeration to believe his influence must have been the cause, at least when it comes to this. But your influence is seeping into him as well. Given his loner habits when you first met and his frequent disappearing acts, you never pictured him as one to be so sweet and considerate and adorably charming in a way.

However, you can’t tell him that you enjoy…sleeping with him. You have a strong feeling he already knows how much you like him. Or, you’d like to think he does with the way he constantly seems to hint at it. He can make you flustered with a few words and easily leave you guessing if you’re reading too much into his actions or if he’s really that good at baiting you. It could also be a little of column A and a little of column B, which somehow makes you more antsy around him. Like how you feel now when his eyes meet yours.

“It’s supposed to be cold tonight,” you whisper. It’s a poor excuse but the only one you can use to defend yourself. “They say the best way to fend off the chill is body heat. Who better for that task than you, dear partner?”

“Many things, I assume, a portable heater comes to mind,” he says, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s slyly teasing you behind that naive tone.

“Right, right, those things,” you grumble causing him to laugh as you hide your bashful face against him. “So loud, you know?”

“Are they? Alright, then five more minutes should be doable,” he says in the same low voice that makes your insides boil before his arm lowers to curl around your back. “Although, you’re too comfortable.”

His ears tinge in a lovely rose-colored blush, and you shudder when he finally fails to maintain eye contact and quickly scans your body. It’s slow enough for you to catch though. It makes your chest tight as you watch his quiet inhale and the murky flash of want dye his eyes shades darker before they fade back into clear pools of blue, big and pleading as he studies your face. 

“I might end up falling asleep here.”

It’s a warning, to make you think about the meaning of your actions, you think. However, this isn’t the first time this has happened nor the first time you spent a rainy day inside with each other; the kitchen counter lined with empty take-out trays, with his body heat radiating into you while a long-forgotten movie plays in the background.

It’ll continue like that until one of you is finally coherent enough after drowsy naps to try to piece together who fell asleep on whom first or who is making the other too hot. Neither of you wants to accept the fault without a lot of bickering; that’s if Xavier doesn’t fall back asleep mid-debate.

Even this time, you’re not sure who managed to drift off to sleep first earlier but neither of you tried to get up, let alone leave the house, until now. Ah, but it was your idea to use the bed this time, wasn’t it?

But it was his choice to agree.

Even now, he looks very peaceful nestled with you, and he still whispers your name in his sleep sometimes, which reminds you of the first time you slept together and he dreamt about wanting you to come home with him.

When you’re like this, you want the same thing. You want him to come home…with you.

“Xavier?” you ask quietly. You wonder if he’s fallen asleep already like he said. Carefully, you free your hand from his hold, slide it up his chest, and begin to draw smooth circles with your pointer finger once you reach his cheek. There’s a soft response from him, barely a moan but it’s enough to know he’s not out of it yet, at least not completely. “I’ve been thinking.”

The air is suddenly stifling when he engulfs the top of your hand with his own, holding it tighter as if he’s upset that you moved it out of his grasp in the first place, but it’s not the case as he affectionately seals your palm against his cheek.

“About what?”

The look he gives you makes it hard not to stumble over your thoughts like a schoolgirl despite being very much an adult.

“Wouldn’t…” You pause to steady your voice; you have to force yourself to not avoid his gaze, but each small movement makes your throat tighten. There’s no doubt you have his full attention now, at least what little remains of it. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we…move in together?”

You’re not sure where the courage to ask him a question like that comes from when you’re too unsure to even confess or to ask what the two of you even are but you didn’t have this fear of rejection until now.

“How would it be easier?”

“Well,” you start, unsure why you’re surprised that he’d want a reason. “We’re always visiting one another, and you made me your representative at the tenant meetings, so everyone already treats us like we’re a combined unit. It would also save me trips on watering your plants when you’re away or when you want to come over to eat. We could save money. Money that could be spent at the arcade or on more hot pot.”

There’s a quiet atmosphere that makes you too uneasy. The thrumming of rain grows louder in it along with the beating in your chest that’s telling you that this was stupid. Is it possible to be drunk on endorphins? Perhaps that’s what gave you the idea to ask something so foolish; you’d have to get Zayne to examine your empty head and tell you.

But then, Xavier smiles.

“Those are good reasons especially more hot pot, and I’m sure all the plushies would feel better if they shared a home again.”

Your anxiety lessens and you share in his smile. Luckily, you managed not to ruin everything it looks like.

“But.” Slowly, the inklings of self-doubt begin to return. A but. There’s always one of those. You should’ve expected as much. “If we move in together then we wouldn’t really be “neighbors” anymore.”

“Oh, um—” You become staggered by his observation, even more so when he interlocks your fingers. It’s another time when you’re not entirely sure if he’s being serious or not. His innocent puppy-eyed expression doesn’t help you differentiate either. It always makes your mind wander to more inappropriate topics—like the fact Xavier told you he didn’t believe that other neighbors acted like you two. The memory nearly makes you squirm. In this position, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but that delicate foundation cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt.

“Do roommates sleep together too?”

There’s a shine of amusement that makes his face glow and heat claw higher up your neck. You know the question should be taken literally but when he words it like that…with that warm implicative inflection to his voice, you’re unable to think properly, and you realize that maybe you made a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him the benefit of the doubt this time.

“I’m sure some do,” you answer with some courage, “I’d imagine at least once a week.”

“I believe we’re up to twice a week now. So, if we become roommates, I think we have to do it at least that many times, otherwise I’m afraid I’m going to have to reject your offer.”

“Two times?” you repeat, silently begging the flapping of butterflies in your stomach to calm down at the suggestion, at the implication that he enjoys sleeping with you just as much as you do with him. It makes this strong emotion in your chest blossom even further. “I can manage that.”

“Additional proposal,” he interrupts suddenly. “Perhaps, three times? I can even throw in a pair of those fuzzy socks that I can never manage to find after you visit,” he adds coyly.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re around your apartment somewhere,” you quickly respond before releasing the buildup of nervous air in your lungs. You smile. “Proposal accepted. Shared naps three times a week minimum.”

“In that case,” he breathes in softly, and he slips his hand down releasing all your fingers except for your pinky that he wraps into his own. “I think I would like to be your roommate.”

Inside, there’s unadulterated joy beginning to flood you. You know that this agreement will require a more in-depth discussion that Xavier will probably try to gloss over but this is enough for you right now.

“We should take tonight to practice for our move.”

Confused, you raise your eyebrows. “Practice?”

He nods.

“Sleeping together overnight. We did a few times before, well, only twice in the same bed, once in yours and once in mine,” he explains. You definitely have the clearest memory of that time, of bandaging his wounds, of cluelessly pinning him down shirtless on his bed before he turned the tables on you, and then—you remind yourself to resist going over the details, not with him this close to you. Somehow, Xavier is the one who looks the most insecure between the two of you. Finally, he whispers, “I haven’t forgotten even if it was a long time ago.”

His eyes are half-lidded, cloudy with thought. Something about him looks restrained and longing but it disappears when you finally swallow your swelling emotions and call out his name. There’s a twinkle of adoration that blows away whatever doubt there as he focuses on you again.

“I think about it when I have a hard time sleeping on overnight missions.” Xavier turns and slides his arm from under your head, choosing to lay on his side to face you. “It makes it a lot easier to rest in the hunting zones when you have good memories like that. So, it's nice to have a chance to make more."

“I don’t think I could fall asleep at all if I thought of something like that,” you admit, as close to an admission of your love for him as you could muster without mountains of alcohol. “I’d just think about how much I’d rather be home with them.”

“And now? Are you having trouble sleeping?” he asks huskily, and you have to fight not to keep staring at his lips and the dire need to kiss them as you breathe each other in. You reach out, touching his bare collar then instinctively searching for his slow pulse, counting it to calm yourself from the rush of adrenaline building in you.

You’re not even sure when you breathed out the “yes” that echoes softly from your mouth. His lips are so close to yours that you’re sure he could catch it in his breath if he wanted.

“How about I tell you a story to help you fall asleep?” He sees your hesitation and laughs under his breath. “I promise it’ll be much better than the last one.”

Accepting his offer, you agree to listen to him.

Xavier nods and gently swoops the back of his hand against your forehead and then your cheek before cupping it. There’s a gentle squeeze, and you think you understand why he likes it so much when you do it.

“Once, there was a beautiful queen and a knight,” he begins. “They lived together in a palace far away.”

“And they fall in love and live happily ever after?” you question, too busy in the full and fuzzy sensations filling your being to hold back.

“No, they were separated from each other for a long time,” Xavier corrects but his expression softens at the trickling concern building on your face. “Don’t worry. They meet again and become neighbors.”

“And then?”

“They become roommates,” he states matter-of-factly, which causes you to chuckle at him. You can’t even be bothered to care that he’s poking fun at you.

“Then, happily ever after?”

“I don’t know yet,” he answers, causing you to frown and your face to wrinkle with a sullen expression. His head tilts further into the plush of the pillow. “But you can help me figure out the ending.”

Feeling exhausted from the cathartic flow of emotions from him to you, you wiggle into him and throw your arm across his waist. “There’d probably be a lot of naps and stargazing involved,” you mumble before a tiny yawn.

“Sounds like a happy ending to me. It's good to finally see it,” he agrees, and you sigh when you feel a strong squeeze around your waist. “Although, you forgot to mention the part where the queen promises to not get out of bed without waking him this time.”

You giggle. “She promises not to get up without her knight.”

Content, he hums. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"

"I think so after a story like that," you confess, reaching out to brush his hair back so you can see his eyes more clearly. "Then again, I always sleep good with you."

"You’ll sleep best when we're close, right?"

You gasp when he shifts on top of you. His lips briefly brush your forehead, by accident or not, you can’t tell as he pins you between himself and the bed. With a stutter, you call out his name yet he pays no heed as he nuzzles his head into your hair.

“Good night, roommate.”

“Xav-!” You pout when he instantly slumps against you. There’s no point trying to wake him up now that his five minutes of alertness have long expired.

Settling your chin against the top of his shoulder, you hook your arms under his to hug him against your chest. Your forearms settle at his mid-back as you hold him close so you can gently brush the ends of his hair.

When you ultimately decide to give in minutes after him, it’s to the warmth of his weight on top of you, the tickle of his hair against your forehead, and the increased pulsing of his heart. Xavier was right, this is too comfortable. Letting your eyes fall close, you wonder if three times a week would really be enough to satisfy this strangely familiar craving. You only wish that the two of you could meet in your dreams like he says, but it's enough knowing you'll have each other in the morning and then on.

“…Good night, Xavier. Sweet dreams,” you whisper before you too give into sleep’s spell.

#xavier x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #xavier fluff #xavier

[halobirthdays]

Happy birthday to Sergeant Major Avery Johnson!

Today is his -451st birthday!

Johnson was born and raised by his maternal aunt in Chicago, who kept him in tidy hand-me-downs and dutifully brought him to church. He enlisted in the UNSC when he was nineteen, believing the Insurrection to be a threat to innocent people. He quickly stood out among his peers and was hand-selected for the newly-instituted ORION project, an attempt at creating a new form of biologically enhanced soldiers to quell the Insurrection.

Avery underwent the training and augmentations, well-exceeding his superiors' expectations. However, the program as a whole was not the success the UNSC was hoping for, and was deactivated, though ORION would be used as the blueprint of the SPARTAN project. Johnson was reassigned to the marines.

He was then deployed to Tribute, where he failed to prevent an Insurrectionist terrorist from blowing up a diner, leading to several dozen civilian deaths. These events left him shaken, and he returned home to Chicago, only to find that his aunt had died. He spiraled, falling into a drinking binge and only recovering when a recruiter stumbled upon him in a gutter. The recruiter convinced Johnson to reenlist, and he was deployed to Harvest.

While on Harvest, the UNSC made contact with Kig-Yar, the first ever interaction between humanity and the Covenant. However, peace quickly failed, and he was involved in the very firsr battles of the Human-Covenant war.

This early experience would prove invaluable, and he was deployed on several key missions following these events. During OPERATION: SILENT STORM, he met Blue Team for the first time, and they earned his respect, with Johnson backing up John as leadership became accustomed to the Spartans. He also helped protect them when he accurately deduced that the Spartans were being targeted by Hector Nyeto.

Johnson continued to serve all the way up to the fall of Reach and the discovery of Installation 04. When the Covenant attacked the Pillar of Autumn, Johnson, along with the rest of the crew, landed on the Halo. Johnson and Keyes investigated intel from a captured Sangheili about a weapons cache on the ring. They found the Flood instead. Johnson survived as the Flood infected his squad and ultimately survived Halo's destruction when he was later discovered by Master Chief.

Following these events, Johnson received a promotion and Colonial Cross for his bravery on Halo, but the award ceremony was cut short when the Covenant attacked Earth. After chasing the Covenant forces off of the planet, Johnson and the In Amber Clad's crew discovered a second Halo installation.

He joined Commander Miranda Keyes to the Halo in search of the activation index to prevent the Covenant from firing the array. However, they were ambushed by Arbiter Thel 'Vadam and taken hostage by Tartarus and his Jiralhanae.

Keyes was brought to the control room to activate the ring while Johnson was about to be executed until they were interrupted by an attack from the Arbiter and the newly-formed Covenant separatists. Johnson then convinced Thel to join forces to stop Tartarus from activating the ring, coordinating the first cease-fire between their species.

After learning the purpose of the Ark and the location of the portal on Earth that would take them there, Johnson, Keyes, and Thel raced back to warn Earth of the coming Covenant invasion. Johnson followed Truth after helping to coordinate a joint UNSC-Sangheili mission to the Ark.

Johnson and his squad were overwhelmed by the Covenant forces at the Citadel. His squad was killed, and he was taken hostage again because the Halos can only be activated by a human. Truth attempted to use Johnson to activate the Halo array, but was stopped by Keyes, who planned on killing Johnson and herself so there would not be humans for Truth to use. However, she hesitated, and Truth used the opportunity to kill her. His victory was short-lived, with Master Chief and the Arbiter arriving shortly thereafter, killing Truth and preventing the rings from firing.

With the pressing danger gone, the UNSC and Sangheili forces focused on Flood containment. Following Cortana's plan, they decided to destroy the partially-built replacement for Installation 04. While Guilty Spark initially agreed with this action, he did not realize that the UNSC intended on destroying his replacement installation--he thought they were going to activate the ring when it was complete. When Johnson corrected him, Spark turned on them, killing Johnson with a sentinel beam.

The loss of Johnson was mourned widely, especially for John but also by Cortana and Thel, who both expressed their condolences. At Johnson's request, John "kicked [Spark's] ass" and activated the ring.

#the GOAT!!! #its thanksgiving here in the US of A #so everyone say Thank you Johnson!!!!

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 24/34 - waiting room

[Read on AO3]

Today, like most days in the past week, has been absurdly unproductive, and it’s barely eleven in the morning. They’d been up late the night before thanks to an impromptu baby shower thrown by the Lone Gunmen, with Frohike at the helm, and spent the first hour of their day in a meeting with the two new agents they’d selected to take over the X-Files, who it turns out, are old friends. It's like it was meant to be.

Other than that, they’ve just been attempting to revive themselves with caffeine, to varying degrees of success.

The ‘baby shower’ from the night before is a term that should be applied loosely, in this case. Mostly, the three stooges just crashed the apartment at half past nine bearing a puzzling array of gifts and some pungent takeout food that thankfully tasted better than it smelled, but Scully appreciated the thought, nonetheless. She could tell that Mulder had no hand in it, given how surprised he looked when they came knocking on their door. It certainly wasn’t what she’d always envisioned when she thought of her hypothetical future baby shower, but she wouldn’t have expected or wanted anything less in this life she’s made for herself.

How could she have known seven years ago that her new partner’s weird friends would one day be some of her closest friends, too?

Leaned back in his desk chair, Mulder tosses another pencil into the ceiling, shrugging when Scully shoots him an unimpressed look. It’s not like there’s a security deposit on this office that they need to get back. The new agents can just get the ceiling tiles replaced, if it bothers them that much. Maybe they’ll come to realize the genius of it as a form of decoration and mental stimulation. 

Or maybe not, if the look on Scully’s face is anything to go by.

Both of them startle at the shrill tone sounding from Scully’s cell phone, causing Mulder to nearly poke himself in the eye with the next pencil he was planning to use as ammunition.

Scully feels her stomach drop to the floor. Nobody ever calls her cell during work hours…

“Hello?” she breathes into the phone.

“Miss Scully?”

“Yes?”

“This is Wanda with the Connect and Care Adoption Agency.”

Scully’s body goes numb, her hand clutching her mobile device tight so as not to drop it. “Hi, Wanda. How are you?” she says in a shaky voice that she works hard to control. This could either be good news or bad, and she can’t tell which. Mulder watches her with concern but says nothing, merely offering his silent support.

“Well, it’s always a good day when I’ve got good news to share!” Wanda says. “You’ve got a healthy baby girl, 6 pounds, 4 ounces. Born at 10:13 this morning.”

Now, Scully really almost drops the phone.

“She’s here?” she asks, her eyes flicking up to meet Mulder’s, conveying what words, at the moment, cannot.

“Yes ma’am, she is. And she is just beautiful.” Scully draws in a shuddering breath, feeling her heart race furiously in her chest. “Now, there’s a few things to finalize here on our end, but if you’re able to get here in the next hour or so, we’ll get you checked into a room and then you can meet your baby.”

“Mulder,” Scully breathes, reaching out for his hand across the desk. He holds her hand tight, silently promising not to let go. “Um, we’re on our way,” she speaks into the phone, managing to thank Wanda and end the call before bursting into tears. Mulder leaps from his chair and circles the desk, kneeling in front of her and pulling her into his arms without a second thought. She buries her face in his shoulder, squeezing tight.

“She’s here,” are the only words her brain is able to signal to her mouth.

“She’s here,” Mulder agrees, choking back emotion. His hand finds the base of her neck, tangling in the roots of her hair. “Let’s go see her.”

-.-.-

Mulder’s hands shake as he locks up the basement office for what will probably be his last time as the agent in charge of the X-Files. He smiles shyly up at Scully. She looks more nervous than he’s ever seen her before, and they’ve been in some pretty intense situations together, so that’s saying something.

“Come on,” he says, tilting his head toward the elevator. She offers a small smile and follows him, sliding her hand into his as they begin the trek down the hallway.

The pace at which they walk through the corridors on their way out of the building turns a few heads. They breeze past other agents without a second glance, missing the way they look at them oddly.

Spookies are up to something again. What’s new?

They’re almost to the entrance when Skinner nearly walks right into them, carrying a batch of manila folders in his hand.

“Oh, hey, I was just on my way down to you,” he says. “There are some files I want you to look over, just some budget stuff—”

“Not now, Skinman,” Mulder says, cutting him off. “Better places to be.”

“Where could you possibly be going at 11 a.m. on a Tuesday?” he asks, looking at them in confusion. Then, his eyes widening, “Oh.”

“The agency called,” Mulder says, a beaming smile spreading across his face. He places a hand on Scully’s shoulder, glancing down at her for a moment before looking back at their boss. “We’re on our way to the hospital right now.”

Skinner sputters, a smile of his own pulling at his lips. “That’s– that’s fantastic news, agents! Forget anything I said about budget documents. It would be more effective to just put them right into the shredder anyway. Besides,” he smiles, reaching a hand out for a handshake, which Mulder reciprocates, “you’ve got much more important things to worry about.” He gives Scully a hug and pulls back, beaming at them. “Well, get out of here! Don’t worry about family leave, I’ll take care of it.”

Mulder nods, grateful for the man’s support in all of this. They’d made the right decision to tell him, all those months ago.

“Oh, and agents—” he adds.

They pause, turning back to face their boss.

“Congratulations.” 

 -.-.-

It’s a delicate balance between driving as fast as he can to get to the hospital, and not wanting to get in a car wreck on the way over. The radio stays off for the duration of the trip to Annapolis. There’s enough going on in their heads that the additional noise is neither welcome nor necessary.

To think: they’d woken up that morning like it was any other day, not knowing that this was the day their lives would be forever changed. They’d danced around each other in the kitchen, grabbing a slice of toast or a bagel for the road, coffee to-go, their typical routine.

Mulder had started the day as little more than a glorified bachelor (notwithstanding the wife he technically has, which makes classifying his relationship status a little iffy), but now he’s a father. That’s what he is, right? Even if he hasn’t met the kid yet, she’s going to be his. His and Scully’s. They just have to fill out a little paperwork, and… voilà! He loves her fiercely already.

“You have the bag, right?” Scully asks, her fingers nervously picking at her cuticles.

“In the back seat,” he answers. It’s in the back seat where it has been for the last two weeks, holding everything they might need for when this call finally came, as she well knows.

“Are you freaking out?”

He chuckles, chancing a quick glance in her direction. “A little bit. You?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nods.

Aw, Scully.

He wants to reassure her that they can handle this, but he’s pretty sure that nothing he says will help until they’re actually holding their baby in their arms. Some things you just can’t be prepared for. You can only face it head on when the time comes.

They follow the signs to the hospital parking lot, and before they know it, they’re standing in front of the automatic doors leading into the building.

This is it. Their time as partners, just the two of them, is over. They’ll enter this building as Agents Mulder and Scully, FBI, and the next time they leave it, they’ll be someone’s mom and dad. A family of three.

Now Mulder knows how Neil Armstrong felt jumping out of that lunar lander.

One giant leap for spooky-kind.

“Ready?” he asks, gazing down at his best friend, his better half. The only person crazy enough to do this with him.

She looks up at him, her eyes sparkling.

“Wait—”

His brows furrow, but before he can ask her what they're waiting for, she reaches up to his collar and extracts the chain that holds his ring. The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smile as he realizes what she's doing, and he reaches out to do the same, pulling the necklace carefully over her head.

She doesn't say a word as she undoes the clasp and removes the simple wedding band. She merely holds out her hand for his, and just like she had done that day at the courthouse, she slides the ring onto his finger.

He looks down at the diamond ring he'd bought for her, holding it in the palm of his hand. It's time for it to take its rightful place, not hidden away any longer. His eyes meet hers, and onto her finger it goes.

Then, with a guiding hand placed on her lower back, Mulder steps forward, hiking the hospital bag up over his shoulder.

They’ve been through so much together, and these rings prove it. They’ll take this final, monumental step together too.

They’re greeted at the front desk by a nice looking nurse, who makes quick work of checking them in. Another worker appears moments later to collect them from the waiting room, and leads them to an elevator that will take them up to the maternity ward. As the doors close, Mulder slips his hand into Scully’s wordlessly, offering his silent support.

Once they arrive at the correct floor, they’re shown to a private room, where they’re given wristbands to wear with “Baby Girl Mulder” written on them along with a corresponding ID number. It’s a family room, complete with a bed, sofa, chair, and large window overlooking the parking lot. This is where they’ll be staying for the next couple of days. He’s stayed in worse hospital rooms, so he can’t complain. This is luxury, by comparison.

The nurse tells them to wait there, and Mulder follows Scully to the couch, taking a seat despite the restlessness he feels right down to his bones. He’d much rather pace the room like a caged animal, but he knows that will only make Scully more anxious. He settles for cataloging everything the room has to offer while they wait. His eyes land on the empty plastic bassinet in the corner lying in wait for their baby to soon occupy it.

It’s all becoming real.

A gentle knock on the door signals someone’s presence, and a cheery middle-aged woman enters, smiling broadly at the two of them.

“Are you Fox Mulder and Dana Scully?” she asks, reading off a clipboard.

They stand to their feet. “That’s us,” Mulder says, finding his voice first.

The woman nods. “I wanted to formally introduce myself, I’m Wanda, the Director at Connect and Care. We spoke on the phone earlier.”

“Of course. Hi,” Scully says, shaking the woman’s hand in greeting.

Wanda removes her glasses, letting the cat-eye shaped frames hang around her neck from a beaded chain. “Brenda, your caseworker, will be here in a few minutes with your baby,” she says, “I just thought I’d check on you first. How are you feeling?”

Scully looks up at him for a moment before answering, a whole conversation passing between them in that short time that only they can understand.

“A little nervous,” she admits, answering for the both of them. “I, um– I thought we’d get a call when she was on her way.”

That brings out a hearty chuckle from Wanda. “We usually try to, but it seems your little girl was anxious to get here! Can’t say I blame her, it’s an exciting day!”

“So, everything went fine, then?” Mulder asks. He’d read enough pregnancy and delivery books between the IVF days and now to have nightmares about some of the worst possible complications.

“Oh yes,” Wanda assures him. “The nurses said it was one of the fastest deliveries they’ve seen this year!”

Mulder feels that last little ball of worry untangle itself in his stomach. Relief passes over him. She’s here. She’s here, and she’s fine.

Only a little longer.

-.-.-

Wanda looks at her watch, then checks her pager.

“Looks like it’s time,” she says, smiling over at them. “Alright, you two, you just wait right there and Brenda will be right in with your baby in just a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Scully says, hoping her voice isn’t as shaky as it feels.

Mulder squeezes her shoulder, the arm he has wrapped around her being the only sign that he feels as nervous as she does. His face is carefully blank, and though he doesn’t outright avoid eye contact, she can tell he’s barely able to focus on their physical surroundings. No, it seems he’s caught up in a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions just as she is. She wonders if he has a matching knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, too.

“This feels unreal,” she whispers, letting out a breathy laugh as he leads her back over to the couch. Once they’re seated, her hand comes to rest on his knee. It grounds her, makes her feel just a little less insane for doing this.

“I know, I can’t believe they’re gonna let us walk out of here with a baby,” he responds.

Opening her mind to extreme possibilities, indeed.

She chuckles and closes her eyes, leaning against him. His hand finds its way to hers, wordlessly intertwining their fingers in a gesture of comfort almost as old as their partnership itself.

“You got the car seat set up, didn’t you?” she asks.

“Car seat, diaper bag, bassinet—everything’s ready, Scully, we got this.”

They’re interrupted by the door squeaking open, and suddenly, Scully’s perception narrows to nothing but Mulder, their case worker, and the bundle of blankets the woman carries in her arms. Everything else fades away.

The pressure on his knee increases as Scully pushes herself to standing, unsure of what to do with her arms. She squeezes his hand once before letting go, and he’s on his feet half a second later, his body practically vibrating with energy at the complete and total awareness of how life-changing this moment is.

Nothing will ever be the same.

“Here she is!” Brenda cheerfully announces as she makes her way across the room, followed by Wanda. 

Scully’s heartbeat quickens as she comes nearer. She can feel her throat closing with tears, and she covers her mouth to stifle a sob. Mulder’s hand presses reassuringly on her back near her shoulder blade, while the other grips her bicep, all but holding her in an upright position.

“Here you go, mama,” Brenda says, and Scully watches in awe as the most perfect, precious baby is placed into her waiting arms. The weight of her is so little, but so right. That phantom feeling she once felt when looking at other women with their babies is finally alleviated. That emptiness, finally filled. 

Finally, finally, she has a baby of her own, one who will one day look up at her and call her “mom.” One who she’ll read bedtime stories to, comfort on stormy nights when the thunder rattles the house, kiss when she falls down and hurts her knee.

Her heart shatters into a million pieces and rebuilds itself all in the measure of a breath.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for so long,” Scully gasps, unable to stifle the sob that escapes her. She feels Mulder’s hands rubbing in comforting strokes, holding her together.

She turns her head to look up at him. His cheeks are wet with tears of his own, but the smile—she’s never seen one quite like it on his face before. So free and full of gratitude. Maybe the closest she ever saw was when she told him her cancer was in remission. Before today, she might have called that the happiest day of her life. But, now…

She closes her eyes and breathes in the moment, her head dipping forward so it rests against Mulder’s chin. He pulls her tighter against him and presses a kiss to her forehead, then another.

No question about it. This is the happiest she has ever been.

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

[littleredwing89]

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 6

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 6

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. Fluff. Domestic fluff. Very, very minor Daddy kink.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy the next chapter! :) apologies for no tag list, still trying to get it working and get back into the swing of things xoxo

——

You pushed the trolley further down the refrigerated aisle, humming softly as you threw a selection of soft cheeses into it. Jason was close behind you, hand resting on your lower back. You bit back the smile at his semi protective manner as you strolled on.

You glanced at the vast array of butters frowning. Did there really have to be so much choice? Salted, non salted, low fat, garlic flavoured. You scoffed, “They must think I’m crazy, I’m not paying $10 for butter!”.

Jason’s brow creased slightly, “Do they not normally cost $50?”.

You almost choked at his ridiculous question before bursting into laughter, “Are you drunk?!”.

He grunted and threw in a butter of his own before returning close to your side. His hand rested in the same place as before sending a wave of warmth through you. You glanced at him sideways, appreciating his form. It was a change, a welcomed one mind you, to see him in black sweatpants and a simple charcoal T-shirt instead of the expensive Italian suits. His dark hair was messy, several white strands from his fringe flopping down into his blue eyes. He still looked just as handsome, maybe even more so in such a relaxed and casual setting.

Your thoughts splintered when you heard another item drop into the trolley. You rolled your eyes when you saw the whipped cream. Typical. Jason had a filthy smirk on his lips when you looked up at him, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“No”, you bent over into the trolley, grabbing it quickly, shoving it back into his hands.

“But-”.

You cut him off, “No”.

Gripping the can in his hands, Jason pouted before pressing his lips to your hair, “But I have an idea”.

You closed your eyes enjoying the feel of his lips brushing against the crown of your head before you whispered, “You’re not putting it on your cock”.

Jason grunted quietly, “Kill joy”, he shoved it back into the fridge before looking at you, eyes glittering darkly, “What about on your pussy?”.

An old lady passing you both gasped and scuttled by, muttering angrily to herself. She looked completely disgusted with both you and Jason.

You blushed before shaking your head, “Yeah…that sounds like a yeast infection, no thanks”.

He smirked and palmed your ass, tugging you closer to him. His chest pressed against you, “I’ll just have to find something else to eat off you”.

His husky voice sent shivers down your spine which you tried to pass off down to the cold atmosphere of the aisle.

“You’re a sex pest”.

Jason shrugged, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “Oh, that reminds me I need more coffee”.

“What the-”, you shook your head in disbelief, “How did you leap to that?!”.

“Sex pests need their energy to harass beautiful women...like you”, his voice oozed with the charm he laid on in the office. The one you swore wouldn’t work on you but was suddenly making you flush pink.

You shoved your palm into his face but smiled fondly. He pretended to bite your fingers in a playful gesture causing you to giggle. You briefly wondered what you both looked like to the other customers. Some love sick couple, who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Butterflies flooded your stomach at the thought of being mistaken for a real couple.

“You know, I don’t remember the last time I came here”, Jason spoke as you made your way further into the supermarket, throwing a bag of pasta into the trolley.

You tilted your head, “What do you mean?”.

Jason dropped in some of the more expensive pasta sauce before looking at you, “I don’t - well - I don’t usually do my own shopping”.

“And you call me princess!”, you smirked.

Jason pinched your ass, “You're Daddy's little princess…”.

He went to kiss you but the same old lady from before coughed loudly, clearly having heard your conversation. She hobbled forward with a glare, “Excuse me, you’re blocking the pasta I need”.

You stepped back, burying your face into your hair. You wanted to crawl under the nearest rock. What must she think of you both?

Jason gave her a dazzling smile, “Sorry sweetheart”.

There it was, that same slick charm only even thicker.

“Do you want me to help you with that?”.

His suaveness clearly didn’t work on her as she grunted, grabbing the sauce before waddling off down the next aisle, mumbling about the filthy next generation.

The pair of you shared a look before laughing. He grabbed your hand and tugged you gently, “Come on princess, I need a few more things before we can go”.

———

The whole scenario of you both in the supermarket had your mind hazy. Such a domestic task completed together. It made you feel warm inside. You knew this was new for Jason too, wondering momentarily if he’d ever shared this side of himself with anyone before. Maybe that’s why he was so closed, insisting this was nothing more than passion between the sheets.

He’d vanished for a moment to grab something from one of the other aisles, telling you to carry on. You skimmed your eyes over the freezers, spying the vegetables you wanted. You opened the freezer and grabbed the bag of frozen broccoli before closing the door behind you. You shrieked when you turned and saw Jason right behind you. 

Your grip on the frozen vegetables tightened as you looked up at him, “Jeez, are you trying to-”.

He cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, your back wedged against the ice cold door. You shuddered, gasping into his mouth at the duel of sensations. The bitter coolness biting into your back fighting against the heat of his mouth and kiss.

Without thinking, you dropped the broccoli and wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. You felt him smirk and his tongue grazed against yours, hips digging into yours. You could feel the outline of him and the thoughts firing in your mind started to make your stomach twist.

Jason pulled back suddenly, your cheeks tinged pink. He grinned cheekily before bending down to pick up the rudely discarded broccoli.

“I think you dropped something princess”.

You gathered your thoughts and ripped the bag of frozen vegetables from his hands, “Let’s go pay for our shopping Casanova before you can’t control yourself”.

His deep laughter followed you down the rest of the aisle, his hand settling on your lower back again.

———

Jason pressed a button on his car keys and the boot opened slowly. You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Neat trick”.

He grinned, “It was an optional extra when I bought it”.

You ignored him and loaded the bags into the back of the car quickly. As soon as the trolley was empty, Jason wheeled it away back to the trolley station. You closed the boot with a thud and rested your ass on it gently, eyebrow raised.

“Well, I gotta say”, you gave him a coy smile, “This was an original date, I’ve never been taken to the supermarket before”, you spoke as though it was a hidden scandal. Jason Todd, shopping in Walmart.

“It isn't a date”, he grunted and stepped a little closer to you, eyes raking over your body. You’d purposely worn these yoga pants knowing how much he liked the way they clung to your curves. Curves he wanted to worship.

“What would you call it?”.

“Killing time”.

You didn’t take offence to his flippant attitude. You expected it. Despite what he was saying, his actions were doing the complete opposite. Telling you all you needed to know about the man in front of you.

“You”, you prodded his solid chest, “Are severely lacking brain cells”.

Jason huffed, “I needed to go and so did you, two birds one stone”.

He almost sounded convincing. Almost. But the way he was caging you against the boot of his car told you otherwise. He was stubborn. That you had to admit. He just needed a little coaxing. A little reassurance. And maybe some gentle teasing.

You nodded, “Mmhmm, sure…Mr. I don't do my own shopping”.

“It was convenient”.

“Jason”, you whispered softly, batting your eyelashes up at him, “You even kissed me next to the frozen broccoli…which was so steamy it almost melted my vegetables”.

Jason didn’t miss the light teasing in your voice and smirked, “My princess has kissable lips, no one can blame me for that”.

“My princess?”, you stroked your hand up his chest, the cotton soft under your fingertips, “How possessive…you almost sound like my boyfriend”.

He growled low and crashed his lips against yours. You purred softly as his 5 day old stubble tickled your skin, hands snaking around his neck to play with the hair at the back of his head. Jason pressed you further into the metal of his car, one hand gripping your hip, the other cupped around the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place. It might have sounded cliché, and something out of one of your grandmother's romance novels but Jason’s kisses completely took your breath away. 

You grinned into the kiss, pulling away slightly, your lips brushing over his as you spoke, “Your publicity team is gonna have an aneurysm if we get caught, what will the paparazzi say if they see their Prince of Gotham getting x-rated in public?”.

“I don’t care, they work for me”, he muttered, stealing another brief kiss from you, “They can work their magic and earn their salaries”.

Your lips kissed across his cheek, stopping at his earlobe, whispering, “I got the whipped cream…”.

Jason shivered and the hand on your hip flexed, “Oh did you?”, he smirked and pulled your core to press against his crotch, you felt his bulge twitch which was barely hidden by the fabric of his sweatpants, “I know what I'm having for dessert tonight”.

“I thought you wanted me out of your apartment tonight, something about a poker night with the boys?”, you pulled back quickly, your eyebrow quirked upwards.

Jason tugged you back to him, “You’ve got cuter reactions”. He nipped your bottom lip, enjoying the way your gasp stroked over his lips.

“So you’re cancelling on the boys for lil’ ole me?”, you nudged your nose against his before planting a delicate kiss to his lips, “They’re definitely going to think you have a girlfriend if you keep cancelling on them”.

“I'll still be enjoying myself”, he brushed it off completely and stood back slowly, his hand finding yours without question, “Let’s get back, there’s a bottle of whipped cream with your name on it”.

He walked you round to the passenger side of the door before opening it for you. You smiled at his behaviour and kissed his cheek before slipping into his Audi.

———

#ceo!jason Todd x reader #ceo!jason todd x reader insert #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader insert #red hood smut #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x reader insert #red hood fanfiction #Jason Todd imagine #red hood imagine

[houserautha]

I need interactions between Feyd and her grownup daughter.

In the original story Ghanima has a concubine in addition to her brother husband (in name only, but still). I wonder what the Harkonnen Princess’s love life/sex life/married life would be and how Feyd behaves in all that

I think Feyd would have exactly one weakness — his daughter. (I’m naming her Annora because it means honor and because I can. Also, as preference, a whipping boy was used in early Europe. They were tutored alongside a prince or noble and instead of the prince being punished for his transgressions, the whipping boy would be punished in front of him)

Annora is his only daughter out of eleven sons. She can do no wrong in his eyes. As a child, she was elected a “whipping boy” to receive her punishments because Feyd could never imagine hurting her. But this only taught her to be cunning and secretive with her less desirable behaviors, which translated into an adult na-Baroness who is extremely pampered and goes to any lengths necessary to get what she wants and avoid her father’s (selective) wrath.

You see, unfortunately, Annora has fallen for her whipping boy. What should’ve made them enemies only made them closer, a childhood friendship blossoming into something more.

Her brother knows this well.

They’re forced into a marriage together, in title only, and he does his best to protect his sister’s secret. Feyd-Rautha would never allow his precious daughter to be with him, the whipping boy, someone lowly and of poor status. So Annora fields a large array of concubines to keep up the facade for her father, some in which she indulges (she is a creature of pleasure like her father) but none who satisfy her like her lover.

I think Feyd would be fine with his daughter having concubines and torrid affairs — she is married to her brother, after all, and he knows the perils of inter-family relationships. But he absolutely loses it when he accidentally discovers Annora engaged with the whipping boy, who he thought his daughter kept around for nostalgia sake. He appointed the whipping boy because he was a child from a slave couple, unimportant and certainly not good enough for Annora.

“Why do you shame me?” Feyd hisses at his daughter, pulling her away as she fumbles to lace up her dress. He leaves the whipping boy to be dealt with later.

Annora, twice as fierce as her father and just as stubborn, says, “You don’t know anything.”

“You take up with that…with that rat?” Feyd sneers. More than anything he is concerned for his daughter, for her reputation and her heart, the future life that the whipping boy would give her. If anyone would find out…

“He’s not a rat,” Annora bites back. Her hands form into fists at her side, single braid swaying as she shakes her head in disbelief. “He’s been there for me through everything. He loves me for me, not for my status or my power or my money like all the others.”

Feyd snorts. “He loves you because you have kept me from slaughtering him like a lamb.”

“You put him in my life.”

Feyd tightens his grip on her arm. “Because I could not bear to harm you. Do you understand that? I cannot stand the thought of —” his voice breaks, flushed with emotion. Feyd clamps his mouth shut in order to fend it off. When he speaks again, his face has taken on a softened expression. “He will hurt you, Annora.”

“He’s never hurt me,” Annora breathes, touched by her father’s rare display of vulnerability, however fleeting it might’ve been.

“He will.”

“He won’t.”

Feyd’s brow, looking far more wrinkled than Annora remembers it being, furrows. “Men are liars and beasts, I know this well. How can you separate him from them?”

“You must get to know him,” Annora says. Her eyes shine with regret. “Aside from how he looks when you strike him.”

Feyd does not give in to this obvious attempt at making him feel guilty. He has no qualms about harming the boy over his own daughter. He considers this. “Fine. Invite him to dinner tomorrow and we shall…talk.”

I think I’ll leave the rest up to your own discretion😜 Does it go well?? Poorly?? Tell me what you think

#feyd rautha #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha headcanons #family fued #Keeping Up with the Harkonnens

[leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld]

CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin : Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

RATED (M) FOR MATURE

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

Summary: Heaven Valentino, the name that sends shivers down one's spine, is a woman whose influence leaves a profound impact.

As the youngest and only daughter of the esteemed Valentino family, many perceived her as a privileged and helpless individual who relied solely on her family's support.

However, little did they know that this very woman would rise to power, commanding the world with an unwavering determination.

Heaven's demeanor is one devoid of leniency; she refuses to tolerate even the slightest hint of absurdity. Her exterior holds an air of ethereal fragility, reminiscent of a precarious deity.

Yet, beneath this facade lies a heart of gold, a tenderness she reveals only to her loved ones. It is a contrast that intrigues many and keeps them guessing about her true nature.

Meanwhile, the story takes a compelling turn as the lives of seven rare hybrids intertwine with Heaven's destiny.

These hybrids, perfected through careful conditioning, represent a diverse array of predator species. Bound together by their unique circumstances, they hold on to a glimmer of hope for freedom, relying on their deep mutual affection to retain their sanity throughout their hardships.

A collision occurs, abruptly merging the paths of these hybrids with Heaven's own trajectory.

The question beckons: will their lives be elevated under Heaven's influence, or shall they descend into an abyss of despair from which recovery seems impossible?

Embark on this thrilling journey to discover the true potency of Heaven Valentino and witness the extraordinary consequences that unfold when lives intertwine with her unwavering will.

The answers lie within the pages of this captivating narrative, where boundaries shall be pushed, emotions shall run high, and destinies shall collide.

Read to find out more...

MATERIALIST

AUTHOR-NIM

Hey there!

So, let's dive into this book, shall we? First things first, if you're expecting a soft and fluffy story with cute scenes and characters, this might not be the book for you. Nope, this book is definitely not for the faint-hearted!

Now, let's talk about what you can expect. There will be some selected bonus chapters, specifically requested by you awesome readers. I want to make sure you're getting exactly what you're looking for!

But here's the thing, I won't shy away from deep and dark scenes. Brace yourself for some intense moments that might even trigger you. I believe in portraying real emotions and experiences, even if they're not always sunshine and rainbows.

Oh, one more thing. Plagiarism and translations of my work without permission? Not cool! I've poured my heart and soul into this book, so if I catch you doing that, I won't hesitate to report you. Let's keep things fair and respect each other's work, deal?

Now, criticism is totally fine. Feel free to express your opinions about the characters' behavior! But here's a line, folks. Degrading the characters or expecting them to follow your personal agenda? Nope, not allowed. We're here for a good time, not to pick a fight!

Okay, here's the deal with the pace of the story: slow-burn. Yep, you heard it right. We're taking our time, letting the story and relationships develop at a deliciously slow pace. So, if you're all about that slow-burn anticipation, you're in for a treat!

Now, let's talk about some ground rules. Racial, prejudiced, and intolerant comments? Not welcome at all! I won't tolerate any form of discrimination. If I catch you doing that, I'll report you faster than you can say "oops." Respect is key here, folks. Respect the characters and respect your fellow readers. No irrelevant arguments or fan wars allowed in the comments section. Let's keep it chill and focus on the story, okay?

Now, finally, let's talk about the content warning. Brace yourself, because this book has it all. We're talking blood, gore, sexual abuse, profanity, explicit mature themes, violence, mental trauma, and even torture. Yes, it's intense, but it's all part of the story. I just want to make sure you're aware before you dive in.

One more thing, I want to make it crystal clear that I don't own BTS or HYBE. This is all pure entertainment and should not be taken seriously. But everything else? Yeah, that's all mine.

If you're not comfortable with any of this, I totally understand. Maybe this book isn't the right fit for you, and that's okay! But if you're up for the challenge, buckle up and get ready for an exciting ride. I wish you the best of luck as you embark on this journey with me!

Author: Lynnetty Lee Mubanga.

All rights reserved.

©Lee.

Now, my friend, it's time to sit back, relax, and enjoy this wild ride!

Oh, the Tag list is open so feel free to ask me to add you to the taglist.

#bts fic #bts hybrid au #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #hybrid au #fanfic #writeblr #taglist #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #jung hoseok #min yoongi #kim soekjin #kim namjoon #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader #polyamory #slow burn #my writing #trigger words #trigger warning ed #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop bts #bts army #bts angst #bts smut

[uchu-no-bashira]

Uchū no Bashira | Small Masterlist

Name: Kiana Aboiye

Age: 25 years old

Gender: Female

Appearance: Kiana is a young woman with a radiant copper-brown complexion, she possesses captivating doe-shaped eyes that were impossible in their color: a galaxy-purple with white flecks, resembling stars in a dazzling constellation. Her hair, cascading down to her mid-back, was a gorgeous blend of deep obsidian black at the roots and a lighter indigo shade at the tips, adorned with enchanting coils. Kiana has bow-shaped and pouty set of lips, irresistibly soft, complemented by a perfect set of wizard-white teeth that formed a dazzling smile. Her playful and warm eyes sparkled vibrantly, and she harbored a cute button nose

Height: 5'0

Build: Fit, Curvaceous. Toned muscle - not rippling.

Hair Color and Style: Deep obsidian black at the roots and a lighter indigo shade at the tips,

Eye Color: Galactic purple with white flecks, resembling stars in a dazzling constellation.

Distinctive Features: Eyes, hair, hoarse voice and rich brown skin.

Background: Born to her father Aadan and Her Mother Ayame, Kiana was the first of nine children. Due to her disposition in life, Kiana was disliked by her own mother - as opposed to her other siblings - and took to clinging to her father in her youth. He loved her deeply, leaving the young child no room to question it.

Place of Birth: Japan (Late Meiji-era)

Family: Kiana is the eldest of nine. She has seven brothers and one little sister. Their names are Ichiro (24), Sizwe(23), Hatsuharu (22), Omari (21), Hiroshi (21), Yasu(20), Tefari (19) and Ai (18).

Backstory: At a young age, Kiana followed dutifully in her fathers footsteps to be a swordsman. Aadan taught Kiana everything that she knew about fighting and the use of their odd - but shared - breathing style. He also taught her the importance of grace whilst hunting demons and to show compassion to those that she had killed. At the age of 13 Kiana took part in Final Selection with her brothers Ichiro and Sizwe, facing many trials and many tribulations. At the end of the long, nerve-pulling, seven days, Kiana was shocked to see that her and her siblings made it out alive. After her father's death when she turned 18, Kiana had killed her 50th demon and earned the 'Universe Hashira' title. She also took to her siblings as if they were her own children and fulfilled her duties as a demon slayer as well. Through this, she was constantly ridiculed by her mother, who claimed that Kiana was the reason for her father's death; leading her to have low self-esteem in herself and abilities despite her title.

Personality:

Traits: Brave, Kind, Compassionate, Stern, Maternal, Fierce, Playful, Empathetic.

Strengths: Perseverance, Keen intellect, Quick reflexes, Strength, Speed, Combat Abilities, Adaptability.

Weaknesses: Breathing Technique.

Role: Demon Slayer

Rank: Hashira

Breathing Style:

Name: Universe Breathing.

Techniques:

Decapitating Solar Blade:

The Universe Breather channels the power of A Solar Flare, focusing the energy into the blade's edge. With a swift, precise strike, the Breather cuts through the demon's defenses effortlessly. The blade moves so fast it appears as a streak of brilliant light, leaving a trail of searing energy in its wake. Upon contact, the demon's body is cleanly severed, the incision cauterized by the intense heat, slowing down and even preventing any chance of regeneration or revival.

2. Cosmic Defense:

When faced with an incoming attack, the Universe Breather raises their Akrafena, forming a radiant, translucent shield of cosmic energy. The shield absorbs the energy of the attack, whether it be elemental or physical, converting it into harmless bursts of stardust that dissipate into the air. The Breather can manipulate the shield's shape and size, ensuring complete protection against a wide array of attacks, including long-range projectiles and close-quarters strikes. But the shield is only as strong as the wielder.

3. Black Hole Rend:

The Universe Breather attacks with the immense gravitational force of a black hole, channeling this power into both blades. With powerful, sweeping motions, the Breather creates a localized gravitational field that pulls the demon towards the blades' edges, increasing the impact and lethality of the strikes. The gravitational pull is so intense that it distorts the space around the blades, making it difficult for the demon to evade or counterattack. Upon contact, the demon's body is subjected to a crushing force from both directions that compacts and tears apart their form.

4. Meteor Storm Assault:

The Universe Breather summons the power of a meteor storm, imbuing both blades with the intense destructive energy of falling stars. With a rapid series of strikes, the Breather unleashes a barrage of attacks that mimic the impact of meteors crashing down from the sky. Each pair of strikes releases a burst of explosive energy upon impact, creating a chain reaction of devastating blows that may overwhelm the demon's defenses. The onslaught is relentless, with the dual blades striking in perfect harmony, leaving the demon little time to recover or regenerate, ultimately reducing them to nothing but dust.

5. Eclipse Devastation:

To initiate the Eclipse Devastation Technique, the Universe Breather enters the Cosmic Serpent Stance, attuning their senses to the universe's energy flows. As they engage the enemy, the Breather begins a series of fluid swordsmanship movements, each strike accompanied by a blinding flash of light resembling a solar eclipse. The Akrafena become an extension of the Breather's will, moving with unparalleled speed and precision. With each strike, the weapon releases bursts of solar energy, disintegrating demons upon impact. The technique culminates in a final, powerful slash, where the Breather channels the combined energy of the universe, creating a shockwave that radiates outwards, obliterating any remaining foes in its path. Kiana has named this ‘Supernova’

Weapon:

Type: Dual Nichirin Akrafena

Appearance: The sword has three parts: a blade, usually made of some metal such as iron; in this case, Nichirin. The hilt is carved metal - solid gold in appearance; and the sheath, usually made of animal hide like leopard, leather and electric eel skin. Kiana's is made of leather. The blade of the weapon, after being presented to her, turned into a stardust pattern with a faint purple hue.

Relationships: How Kiana feels about the other Hashira:

"I was afraid she’d kill me in my sleep and after telling her that, we laughed about it and I found out that she’s actually very kind and intellectual." - Insect Hashira

"He is definitely a God of some sort. How could you look good, be tall and considerate? There’s no way. He’s very skilled, I envy his stealth. It staggers me when I remember that he’s two years younger than me." - Sound Hashira

"She's a slice of Castella cake. She’s a wonderful eating partner!! I adore our chats." - Love Hashira

"He’s terrifying, but very thoughtful despite how he speaks. He’s hurting in a way I can’t understand, but I admire his dedication." - Wind Hashira

"Very quiet. I haven’t sat and talked with him, but I feel he prefers isolation" - Water Hashira

"He fired me up. It pained me to know that he had died in battle. I mourned tremendously." - Flame Hashira

"He is a skilled young boy, very mature and does what needs to be done." - Mist Hashira

"He's a serious one. His katana is amazing. I’ve never seen one like it before" - Serpent Hashira

“He is incredibly tall. He’s strong beyond belief. Very cute. I enjoy spending time with him.” - Stone Hashira

Trivia:

The surface of Kiana's skin is well above 104 degrees due to her Breathing style. She has never had a fever or been sick in her entire 25 years of life.

When she was sixteen, Kiana's father - Aadan - once looked at Gyomei Himejima as a suitor for his daughter. Kiana refused the offer from her father multiple times because she had no idea who the man was and she had other responsibilities to worry about.

Kiana's eyes look like the center of a universe swirl and each star is linked to an ancestor and their abilities. She needs to keep a high spiritual balance in order to keep her abilities in tact.

Kiana speaks multiple languages: Japanese, Yoruba, ASL/JSL and English.

(Art done by @kingdimitrx)

#kny oc #OC!Kiana #black!oc #aave #kny #kny rp blog #oc rp blog #oc art

[birgittesilverbae]

sneak peek - teach me to love, as you have loved me

Happy New Year! Here's a sneak peek of a pre-canon fic I've been working on for a while now

----

The training area Shannon leads her to is one Beatrice had noticed in passing, but never ventured a closer look at. Shannon unlocks the shed at the head of the field, and as Beatrice rounds the corner of it she slows to a halt, eyes wide.

Before her is an array of polearms, bamboo hafts and wooden, capped with hooks and blades and spikes. Shannon doesn't grab any of them, though, instead selecting two training staves from deeper in the shed and tossing one to Beatrice.

She catches it easily. She's worked with the bō since prepubescence, almost, and it feels like an extension of her body.

Shannon juts her chin towards the packed earth of the training field. "Let's see what you've got, Beatrice."

It's clear from early on that Beatrice is more than a match for Shannon. She lands strikes to thigh, arm, side, once even to the head in a blow that sends Shannon staggering and ice down Beatrice's spine. When Shannon rights herself, there's a long welt across her right cheek, but she grins and beckons Beatrice towards her anew.

Shannon's patterns shift, then. From the strikes and blocks of competitive sport to something fiercer, more relentless. Shannon's grin turns predatory. Beatrice finds herself on her back foot, despite her skill, finds herself dodging and bracing against attacks that aim for centre mass, for the groin, the heart, the throat, the head. The end of Shannon's staff pushes and seeks, hungry for blood.

Finally, Shannon sweeps Beatrice's legs out from under her and she ends up on her back, Shannon's staff at her throat.

Shannon taps the butt of her staff against Beatrice's chin and winks, then pulls it back so she can hold a hand out to Beatrice. Her palm is calloused but still soft, and warm against Beatrice's, her grip firm. She throws an arm around Beatrice's shoulders and steers her back towards the shed.

"What changed about my attacks?" Shannon asks, after they've returned their staves to the shed and sat down on the grassy slope alongside the field.

Beatrice ponders the question, the last moments of the fight. "The purpose," she says finally. "Those strikes were meant to inflict damage."

"And if my staff had had a blade on it?" Shannon prompts.

Oh. "Those strikes were meant to kill."

Shannon nods sharply. "There's a difference between fighting for a championship and fighting for your life, Beatrice," she says. Her voice is level, but her eyes have grown distant. "When blades are live and blood is hot, you can't lose focus for even a moment." She raises a hand when Beatrice opens her mouth. "I know that isn't a problem for you," she continues dryly, "I and everyone else has seen you go through your forms. But even a moment's hesitation, a moment's doubt as to what your next action should be, can be the difference between you coming home alive and us holding a vigil for you, too."

#warrior nun #mywn #sister beatrice #sister shannon #fic: tmtl #myfic

[arabriddler]

Hello! Please use this ask as a free invitation to infodump where ever you'd like be it your blog, to someone, or something else and about whatever you'd like. Think a free hug coupon but in a different form and the hug is information^^

Have a good day/night/whenever

hiii! Thank you so much ! gonna take this opportunity to talk about my favorite little guys ever… the bees!

Did you know that bees are sentient? They’re emotional little guys, and we discovered that fairly recently because their brains are so small they needed sophisticated technology to be studied.

people fear bees because they’re aggressive sometimes, but aggression is just an emotion right? They can be relaxed enough you can pet them, they can be sad or stressed or happy ..etc they’re capable of problem solving, math, thinking, and feeling. They can recognize and remember faces. Some bees are social some are not. They can feel an array of emotions and even sometimes develop disorders like PTSD.

Okay, so, bit by bit. A thing that fascinates me about bees is swarming, or relocate, when a honeybee colony leaves the hive and intends to relocate,. They send a select number of scout bees to go inspect potential places. If a scout bee likes a spot she comes back and performs a wiggle dance that can communicate the location of the spot. Another group or bees goes to inspect the spot and if they like it they come back to dance, and so on until they all agree on a spot. It’s basically a democracy which is just very cool.

Another way bees are interesting is that they can dream as I mentioned above. This was discovered because scientists noticed they’d move their antennas the same way they would when they’re flying or communicating, isn’t that cute? ( btw, did you know scientists can develop ptsd from studying bees because they get attached to them? )

Recently, in the bee world, there has been a problem called Colony Collapse Disorder. This is connected to the threat of extinction the bees are facing as it indicates how an entire honeybee colony can die in one season :( Mainly, we suspect pesticides to be the cause of this, but scientists argue that their emotional states could have played a role. It’s suspected that Industrialized agriculture causes so much psychological stress and thus…

They’re just really neat complex little creatures. I love them

have a nice day/night/whenever! And thank you !

#Bees #bee #ask #nice people

[miloscat]

[Review] The Legend of Korra (PS3)

A budget Avatar game done right.

Platinum Games are well known as specialists in "character action" games, flashy brawlers with tight controls. Around this time in the studio's life (2014-2016) they cranked out a few smaller licensed games like Transformers Devastation, a Ninja Turtles game, and this. These are normally seen as lesser compared to their flagship titles but they still have a solid gameplay core, and compared to some other Avatar games I've played recently this one really shines.

I've been rewatching Korra for the first time since its broadcast and absolutely loving it. The ideal for a tie-in game like this is a new story, so I was pleased to see new events in this poorly-titled game taking place between Books 2 and 3... now, the actual gap between seasons of the show is small, but they managed to squeeze a little week-long adventure in there. The settings and array of baddies to beat up are very much rehashed from Books 1 and 2, but a new antagonist with a wacky reveal gives it some spice.

After Korra is ambushed in the streets of Republic City, she finds her bending once again blocked. A creepy old wizard man has nefarious plans for her, and she travels through the new Spirit Wilds districts, to Air Temple Island, to the South Pole, and eventually into the Spirit World to stop him. He can summon dark spirits but has also coerced Equalists, paid off Triads, and acquired mecha tanks to stop her. It's a small, self-contained story but comes with some nice cutscenes animated well in the style of the show by American studio Titmouse.

The voice acting is also authentic with the show's actors returning... although, the budget scope is indicated here again. Jinora shows up in spirit form to give exposition, and there are minor appearances by Tenzin, Mako, Bolin, and Shiro Shinobi the pro bending commentator with a few lines each, but most of the time Korra is just talking to herself. The creative staff on the show also were involved, with the show's writing and art leads contributing the story, writing, and character design.

As for the gameplay, it works very well. Korra has her four bending styles that are unlocked gradually, each one giving you different options: for example, waterbending allows for ranged attacks, earthbending is slow and powerful, fire is fast, and airbending comes last and has totally OP area effect attacks. Each style has its own experience bar that unlocks new moves, and you can customise further with some powerful modifiers bought from Iroh's shop (get the health regen comb asap!). Aside from the four fighting styles, guard countering is very important, as well as knowing when to dodge and the occasional mini-QTE against bender characters. Another central mechanic is chi charging, where you can hold an attack button to charge up and fill your chi bar, which then powers up all your attacks before it drains. It's a little risk-reward thing but managing your bar becomes essential and makes for an interesting balance during combat sequences.

Between all the knocking heads, there's some light exploration and platforming. The structure of levels reminded me of Platinum's recent World of Demons: pretty straightforward with some short side paths for goodies, only more developed and three-dimensional. There's occasional pro bending segments, that use a stripped-down control scheme, as well as a side mode where you play out a series of bouts. There's also Naga sequences presented as three-lane 3D autorunners, which are a decent change of pace (although I did spend a torturous hour or two doing the triple-mecha tank Naga-back boss fight in Extreme mode). They're a million times better than the animal-riding bits in Quest for Balance, at least.

Although Platinum are known for their demanding action games, there are plenty of concessions here that make Korra accessible, from difficulty select to the shop's talismans that can give you a leg up. You still get ranked on each battle but I didn't have much trouble doing well, especially after unlocking the better combos and items. Most of the time I didn't find it harsh unless I'd chosen the specific tradeoffs that made it rougher, and dying is only penalised by starting the current fight over again.

This is pretty much one of the best Avatar games out there; a strong gameplay foundation, authenticity in presentation, a little sprinkling of fanservice here and there, doesn't overstay its welcome... too bad it was delisted a mere three years after release! It was on PC as well as both the PS3 and PS4 generation consoles, although I didn't have a PS4 in 2014 when I bought it so I dusted off my PS3 for this. It performed very well despite being "last-gen" at the time, and barely feels dated technologically even now. There must be a way to pirate it, hopefully, and I recommend it for Korra fans. Otherwise, there's a 37-minute video that stitches the cutscenes together with short bridging gameplay snippets that I'd recommend. Either way, don't miss it!

#the legend of korra #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar the legend of korra #platinum games #review #ps3

[ohimsummer]

JENNY ( ft. mikasa)

— crushing, mikasa x fem! reader, black! reader, modern au, fluff, inspired by this song, idk a lil sum sum for Mikaaa

Mikasa had known you for a while, just a couple months shy of a year. You two met at some college frat party, forcibly shoved into each other by drunk and rowdy partygoers. She murmured out a ‘sorry’, but her apology is completely drowned out by your loud exclamation.

"God dammit!", Your words are still hard to hear over the deafening music. "Spilled my fuckin' drink!"

The hustle and bustle of patrons does nothing to help the situation, so Mikasa ends up accompanying you off to the edges of the crowd so you can get cleaned up. And as she turns back towards you, she gets to see the face belonging to such a pretty voice. The shine of your glossy, plump lips, bottom one tucked between your teeth as you struggle to deal with the growing stain on your sweet, satin dress. Her eyes roll over rounded curves, dark skin highlighted by flashing rainbow lights, and long, sleek hair that cascades over your shoulders and down your back.

“Are you checking me out?”

Your words pull Mikasa from her thoughts, and the red blush on her face is immediate. She prays that the lights are distracting enough to not make her embarrassment noticeable.

“Uh, no.” comes the low and curt response, almost inaudible over the beating of her own heart.

Clammy hands rub at her jeans as you pause, and then release a symphony of giggles. You grab handfuls of paper towels off the roll on the table, dabbing at the stain while throwing playfully suspicious glances at Mikasa.

“O-kay...but I mean...I wouldn't have really gave a fuck." You smile up at her with a mischievous glint in your eyes.”Just, ya know, be a lil’ more subtle about it. But if you wanna look, baby, I don't mind. Tryna catch eyes tonight, anyway."

Your playful tone, the wide grin on your lips, and just the way you’re staring at her, and that’s it. Mikasa's a goner.

From that point on, you have her wrapped tight around your finger. Mikasa finds herself cancelling plans with her friends if it meant getting dragged off to watch you get your nails done, or help you pick out hair in the shop for your next hairstyle. “Braids, locs? Twists? Or should I go for another wig?”, you ask her. And Mikasa doesn’t answer because she can’t decide. Because she knows you’ll look great in all of them.

It's on a familiar Friday night that Mikasa finds herself again at your apartment, sitting on those familiar, cotton sheets and bathing in the comfort of your company. You’re in the bathroom; Mikasa spots you swaying your hips to whatever song is currently playing as you finish your nightly routine early, and occasionally peeking at her through the mirror. Mikasa can tell you’re amused at how she can’t hold your gaze.

“You okay back there, Mika?”, you ask. The smile is evident in your voice.

“Mhm.”

“My laptop’s on the nightstand, why don’t you find a movie for us to watch?”

Mikasa obeys your order without question, browsing the streaming service’s array of selections and occasionally asking your opinion to get a feel of what she could choose. You eventually finish your routine, climb onto the bed and position yourself next to her; both of you lay stomach-down on the sheets with a thick blanket to block out the cool air of your apartment. Mikasa ended up picking some old, slasher-comedy flick, but despite the bad takes and cheap jumpscares, she finds herself heavily absorbed in the movie’s terrible plot. You, on the other hand, are drifting off deeper and deeper into slumber, head lolled onto Mikasa’s shoulder but she doesn’t even take notice. 

The credits begin rolling across the screen and Mikasa finally takes note of your limp form. “Y/N?”

“...Hmm...?”, you hum at her, moving to clutch her arm and snuggle against her shoulder. 

Mikasa stiffens for a few seconds under your touch, then forces herself to relax. “Do you want to go to bed? I can leave.”

“No, ‘m not tired, baby..”, your mumbled voice is barely audible and the words are slurring together. “Stay here with me.”

She’s glad you’re too drowsy to notice the way her face is deep red, and how her breaths have become shallow like she’s afraid to breath too hard in fear of waking you up. In spite of her nervousness, Mikasa decides to test the waters, and slowly but gently lays her cheek against the crown of your head. Being this close, she can smell the light, lingering scent of shea butter and coconut from your hair conditioner; it calms her down just a little, enough to get comfortable resting her head against yours as she listens to the low sounds of your rhythmic breathing. Mikasa closes her eyes as sleep begins to overcome her, as well. You two sit like that for a while, comfortably silent and poorly fighting off the persistent urge to doze off. 

“Mikaa?”

The quiet murmur infiltrates her ears and makes Mikasa crack her eyes open.”Mm?”

You’re silent for a few seconds before speaking again.”D’ you wanna go out with me?” Another pause. “Like a date?”

Mikasa’s mind feels heavy in her head, and though the curse of sleep is muddling her thoughts, she’s well-aware enough to spout a response. ”Of course.”

She hears the content sigh blow from your lips, feels the heavy rise and fall of your side against hers. “Okay.”, is all you can say. It sounds relieved, like a huge burden has been taken off your shoulders.

You don’t say anything else, and Mikasa eventually realizes you’ve finally drifted off to sleep. She dozes off right next to you, still not fully understanding the weight of your question and her answer and what it could mean for you both. But who cares? She’d think about it in the morning. Right now, she just wanted to sleep next to you like this forever.

#mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa imagine #mikasa ackerman imagine #mikasa x reader fluff #mikasa fluff

[d-criss-news]

Napa winery offers Broadway star Darren Criss fertile setting for intimate outdoor concert

[UHQ] Broadway star Darren Criss performs at Napa’s Carneros Resort and Spa as part of the Broadway and Vine series on Friday, July 28. (Photo by Bob McClenahan)

Broadway star and “Glee” actor Darren Criss is the latest star to make a compelling case for staging more musical theater events outdoors.

Performing against a backdrop of pink skies and rolling vineyards on Friday, July 28, the San Francisco native and Emmy-winning actor was exceptionally charismatic as he tackled classic show tunes and covered a dizzying array of artists. “Welcome to my wedding,” he joked upon taking the small outdoor stage facing several hundred folding chairs. From there, he was off, serving as a one-man jukebox as his selections veered from British alt-rockers Keane to singer-songwriter royalty Carole King. Between sets, Criss peppered in stories from his strange journey to stardom.

-------------

The intimate outdoor concert provided a perfect opportunity for Criss, best known for the five seasons he spent playing Blaine Anderson on the popular Fox series “Glee,” to formulate a set list that doubled as an autobiography of sorts. At one point, he introduced a cover of “The Luckiest” by Ben Folds by explaining that he’d originally intended for it to be his character’s last song on “Glee.” It’s hard to say Criss made the wrong choice, given the original number he ultimately wrote (“This Time”) would earn him an Emmy nomination in 2015. But his take on Folds’ lovelorn ballad, played at the piano, was a breathtaking glimpse into what might have been.

Later, he dusted off  “To Have a Home,” which a small subset of the audience may have recognized as one of the songs Criss penned for a Harry Potter parody musical he made with friends back in 2009. It was a gesture of appreciation to an audience built from many factions of fandoms. By the end of the night, Criss had done an admirable job of catering to as many of them as possible. 

Alternating between piano and guitar, he managed to imbue every note with a lively joy, be it a take on Tom Petty, his version of “Grease” torch song “Hopelessly Devoted to You,” or his spot-on Kermit the Frog impression. He even invited fans to make requests of songs his character did on “Glee,” which he then compiled into an improvised medley for his encore.

But the moment that best encapsulated the evening was watching Criss belt a faithful rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” as real birds flew past him and merrily chirped away into a backdrop of the Napa Valley sunset. 

And yet, there was another highlight that may have topped it all, this one in the form of an unexpected guest.

As part of the series, each Broadway and Vine show typically includes a duet or group performance where local students are given a chance to sing alongside their idols. On Friday night, Criss welcomed Amarech Mendez, a 17-year-old student at Burlingame’s Mercy High School, to cover Bob Dylan’s “Make You Feel My Love.”

Arranged in the style of pop singer Adele’s recent rendition, the presence of Mendez was clearly no favor but a well-earned honor as she belted out her parts with impressive conviction. It was a moment that instantly reminded Susana Gonzalez, 57, of the time her own daughter, Diana, now a student at Stanford, was invited to sing a duet with musical theater star Shoshana Bean in 2021 as part of the Broadway and Vine series’ first season.

“This is a real gift,” Gonzalez said. “Jacob is an ambassador, not only to the community but to the kids. It allows them to dream and think about the fact that they can do anything. I mean, where else do you get a performer singing ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ and get actual birds?”

Nic Meerholz, 40, of Napa, was also impressed with the show, which should be welcome news to Criss, who saw Meerholz’s hand go up twice early in the evening when he asked if anyone in attendance “didn’t give an eff about musical theater” and was “dragged here by their partner and has no idea what’s happening.”

Criss thanked Meerholz for his honesty and dedicated the rest of the show to making a convert of the man. 

At the conclusion of Criss’ 16-song set, Meerholz confirmed the artist accomplished his mission.

“I came into the show not knowing anything about musicals or Broadway and it was just absolutely fantastic,” he said, “ I didn’t even know who Darren was. I’ve never watched ‘Glee.’  Nothing. Magical! It was just a magical evening.”

#darren criss #sfchronicle datebook #broadway and vine's 2023 concert #press #photos #july 2023

[themuse-if]

Another 20 (or so) Questions with Karla Reyes

Interviewer: Welcome to another installment of our character interviews, where we dive deep into the lives and minds of our favorite cast members of The Muse. Today, we have Karla Reyes with us, our musically inclined painter. Karla, thank you for joining us. Could you start by telling us what made you want to pursue Studio Arts?

Karla: Hey, thanks for having me. So you know how they always have kids finger painting in preschool, well that was my favorite part of every day. As I got older and was allowed to just select an elective I always chose art. My high school art teacher Mr. Davis was really cool. He always had music playing in class, usually just instrumental stuff, but the music always fit the vibe and really influenced my work.

Interviewer: Describe your art, particularly your watercolor work, in your own words.

Karla: *gets thoughtful* Mmm I enjoy movement and the human form. The way that color can really set the tone, like the image could be the same, but if I use a different color palette it completely changes the direction of the piece. And music, usually my palette is found in songs. The tone provides me an array of colors and the rhythm gives the piece movement. Does that make sense?

Interviewer: I think so. How do you want to be seen by others?

Karla: I want to be seen as someone who is...natural. Like I hope people see who I am authentically. I'm a big believer in letting things play out and just existing in a way that isn't forced.

Interviewer: So just very go with the flow, I see. And how do you want your art to be seen by others?

Karla: Ok...that's not really easy to answer. Obviously everyone interprets art differently, as they should, but I think all I can ask for is that they feel something. I don't ever want someone to see my work and just think aww how pretty, I want them so actually feel something. It could be thought provoking, sensual, dark, lively, humorous. I just want people to see more than a beautiful object, I want them to take something away from it.

Interviewer: Of course, no artist wants people to view their work in a shallow way. What traits do you value most in a friend?

Karla: I'm pretty relaxed so I am usually drawn to people who are more outgoing. As long as someone has a good vibe and they're drama free then I think we can be friends.

Interviewer: Sounds simple enough. What is your latest obsession?

Karla: Nothing new really just the usual. I've been working on a new collection centered around love and heartache. It's not for an assignment or anything, I'm just trying to work through some stuff and painting is my favorite outlet.

Interviewer: You've told me some things you look for in a friend, but could you describe your ideal best friend?

Karla: Someone who is creative and outgoing, who shares my love for art and music. I value honesty and authenticity in a friend, someone that I feel comfortable with. It should be natural and effortless.

Interviewer: And what about your ideal partner?

Karla: *sighs* Should have seen that one coming. Usually I go for people that are sweet and bubbly. I'm a bit more chill and I just find people like that really refreshing, like rain on a hot summer day.

Interviewer: Aww that's actually really cute. What was your first kiss like?

Karla: It was pretty normal a quick peck with my best friend. We were in middle school and it was awkward we never talked about it after.

Interviewer: And have you ever been in love?

Karla: Oh god...I really hate this question. Yes I have been in love. I don't really want to go into detail.

Interviewer: Ok then, when was your last relationship, and why did it end?

Karla: Come on. You're killing me here. As I'm sure you already know I broke up with Faye at the end of last spring semester. It wasn't because I didn't love her or that she stopped loving me. It just all felt too complicated and neither of us are really good with conflict. I miss her like hell though, but I think this space is for the best. Like I wish we could have made it work, but I think we both just need some time to focus on ourselves.

Interviewer: I feel like you only gave me half an answer, but I won't press you I can tell you would prefer not to go into to much detail. Ok next question. What’s your ideal Friday night?

Karla: My ideal Friday night is pretty simple, friends, food, and live music. Just a nice night surrounded by my favorite things.

Interviewer: What’s the last song you listened to?

Karla: "Young Love" by Cleo Sol.

Interviewer: How do you behave in a relationship?

Karla: I try to be open and communicative, but as I've learned I really struggle with conflict. It's hard for me to 100% trust my partner if I feel like that trust has been broken. Honestly I just don't like drama, I kind of shut down if things start to feel off.

Interviewer: Interesting. Do you approach those you’re interested in or let them come to you?

Karla: It depends on the situation. I'm open to both approaches, but I think it's important to be genuine and authentic in any interaction.

Interviewer: What is your biggest pet peeve?

Karla: I can't stand people who are arrogant or disrespectful. I believe in treating others with kindness and respect.

Interviewer: What do you notice first about a person?

Karla: *chuckle and tucks her hair behind her ear* Their laugh. Some people laugh with their who body while others let out just a tiny giggle. I dunno I feel like you can tell a lot about a person by how they express their joy.

Interviewer: Aww that's really cute, and so true. Ok time for our last question. What did you dream about last night?

Karla: *gets a twinkle in their eye* Honestly I'd rather not say. Dreams can be very personal...if you know what I mean. *chuckles* So I'll just let you use your imagination.

Interviewer: *clears their throat* Oh uh, I see. Well that's all the time we have for today. Thank you so much for coming in and sharing more of your story with us!

#interactive if #interactive fiction #themuse if #twine if #twine interactive fiction #if: themuse #interviews2 #interactive story #choose your own story

[hippolotamus]

find the word challenge

Thanks for the tags @alyxmastershipper @swiftiediaz @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @elvensorceress @spotsandsocks😘

rules: share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the word in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word)

My words are (I just did the ones I had!): gentle, hands, please, stop, sigh, love, scream, heaven, stars, home, peace tugs, sleep, tender, whisper, fall, reach, cries, lick, understand, longing, sweet, night, regret, blue, fear, couch, wall

Words for people I tag: tea, lonely, book, radio, mess

Tagging (if you want to play) my love @lizzie-bennetdarcy @stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose @rmd-writes @apothecarose @fatedbuddie @shortsighted-owl @alysiswriting @monsterrae1 @vanillahigh00

For anyone that has known me for more than 2 seconds, you know that WIP is a very broad term in my world. Also, there are many words, so under the cut for mine. Off we go!

@alyxmastershipper's words:

gentle (Wait for me to come home) He relearns how to adjust his touch to something more gentle. To keep his thrusts calibrated for someone smaller, lighter. To expect that the hands touching him won’t be calloused and firm, but soft and featherlight. He likens it to returning to a favorite childhood hangout. Somewhere that feels familiar, with mostly good memories, but you know you don’t exactly belong there anymore.

hands (Buddie stargazing fic) Evan scratches the back of his neck, where the grass tickles his skin, before pillowing both hands under his head and crossing his ankles.

please (from S6 midseason spec) Eddie stares, scrunching his eyebrows for a moment, then glances up at Buck with a look he can’t quite decipher. He’s not upset, but doesn’t exactly look pleased either. “That’s- that’s great, Buck. Good for them. I’m glad you were able to help.”

stop (from Buck moving into Eddie's fic) The racing thoughts abruptly stop, replaced with only one. One absolutely absurd memory.

sigh (from [redacted] for @alysiswriting) With a resigned sigh, he finishes filling his plate with an array of raw vegetables, Linda’s BLT dip, and something he only knows is wrapped in phyllo dough. For good measure he takes a second one because he knows Buck’s been eyeing them up. Eddie would gladly hand it over, but he actually wants to try it for himself.

@swiftiediaz's words:

love (from [redacted] for @elvensorceress) Buck enters the apartment, his movements still slow, like he’s floating. Buoyed by the love and contentment that only comes from spending an evening at the Diaz house.

scream (also from the [redacted for Jenwyn]) The hollow ache in his chest that’s always there unexpectedly feels deeper. Wider. Like it may actually break through and tear him apart. How can such emptiness feel so massive? As if his ribs are slowly cracking open, snapping one by one, stretching the skin while crushing his lungs and heart. He wants to scream or cry or something. Anything. But it’s all stuck, gathered in a tangle that refuses to budge.

stars (Buddie stargazing) The line goes dead, leaving him alone with the fireflies. Pinpricks of stars are beginning to emerge in the night sky, forming faint outlines of near recognizable constellations. If she could see them, he wonders if Maddie would see the same sky where she is. Maybe.

home (Stevie/Ruth) Stevie doesn’t need a lot in life, but there’s something to be said for a company car that will take her where she wants. And right now she wants to get home, to the person who will gladly carry every ache and burden she has. Because no matter the geographical location, Ruth is home.

peace (Fashion & Baseball) Patrick wishes his mind would string together something more coherent than flashes of partial words he can’t seem to access. The single language available is David, David, David on an endless loop. He looks relaxed, holding his fingers up in a peace sign, dressed in a black sweater patterned with white flowers, tight black jeans and sunglasses that are probably worth more than Patrick’s car.

@mysteriouslyyounggalaxy's words

tugs (I know all your Secrets) Patrick greedily claims David’s mouth and brackets his palms on David’s waist, tugging their hips together. There’s a renewed urgency to his movements, signaling to David that Patrick wants control now.

sleep (David/Stevie The Honeymoon coda) During the day she parades around with a see-if-I-care attitude, armed with a razor sharp wit, ready to cut whoever gets too close. At night though, fucked out and fast asleep, she tells a different story. It’s present in the way her mussed up raven hair fans across the pillow.

whisper (David/Patrick mall pretzel Patrick) He lets his head loll to the side and shoots her the best glare he can manage. When he’s satisfied he’s glared enough, David drapes his arm across his forehead and knits his brows together. “Stevie.” It comes out part whine, part whisper, all desperation.

fall (Buck moving into Eddie's) Or Eddie holding Buck in the aftermath of Abby coming back, letting him sob and fall apart until he exhausted himself and Eddie put him to bed.

@elvensorceress's words:

reach (Twylexis) “‘Lexis!” Twyla bolts up in bed, orienting herself to the room lit only by a patch of moonlight. She reaches out to the other half of the bed, grasping at air, and it takes her a moment to realize — to remember — she’s alone because Alexis is away. This always happens the first night, but she still isn’t used to it.

cries (Stevie/Ruth) There’s an uncomplicated sense of satisfaction when her key slides into the lock and she pushes the door open. After it clicks shut, there’s a clang from the kitchen accompanied by a string of curses that makes Stevie chuckle. Because really if she doesn’t, she might cry at this point.

sweet (Fashion & Baseball) “Oh, just look at all my sweet boys!” Marcy Brewer coos in the direction of Patrick, Andy, Ted, Mutt and David, all standing in the grass outside the Brewer house.

understand (magical realism cat!Buck) “What does that matter?” Buck asks, tilting his head to the side like he genuinely doesn’t understand. “You’ve been raising him this whole time, you’re an amazing father. Gods, Eddie, have you even looked at your son lately?”

longing (David/Patrick Olive Branch) It‘s as if his efforts to remain professional had wrapped around the remnants of despair and longing only to fray and knot them all together.

@spotsandsocks words:

night (magical realism cat!Buck) Ana slips out the door, turning to smile again and blow him a kiss. The deep red imprint floats through the autumn air, landing on his cheek soft like a butterfly. Then she’s gone in a swirl of lavender smoke and fallen leaves, fading into the night.

blue (magical realism cat!Buck) He can already feel the eyes on him before he closes the door. The bright blue orbs, almost electric with their intensity.

fear (Wait for me to come home) Buck had let him do that. He taught Eddie how to want without shame or fear of rejection. Shannon doesn’t know that Eddie though. Afraid of driving her away from Christopher again he had immediately shut that part of himself down.

couch (Buck moving into Eddie's) People wouldn’t see video game tournaments on the couch, baking cookies with Christopher, Eddie telling him there’s no one he trusts more with his son.

wall (Buddie stargazing) He doesn’t want to, not yet. Out here is calm and relaxing. Inside is stuffy and constricting. It makes his muscles tense, like he needs to move. And in there he’s not allowed to move the way he wants. Mom and Dad have so many fragile things lining the walls, Evan wonders if they aren’t secretly inhabiting a museum. At any rate, as parents, he’s pretty sure their focus is in the wrong place.

#this was fun #and intense #find the word tag #hippo writes #and maybe has too many wips #tag games #buddie wip #buck x eddie #david x patrick #stevie x ruth #stevie x david #twylexis #twyla x alexis

[dailycharacteroption]

Eldritch Nanites Nanocyte (Nanocyte Alternate Class Feature)

(art by Tyxerus on DeviantArt)

 The nanocyte class, while relatively new, is perhaps the very pinnacle of technological integration with your character, but what if you want a little hybrid magitech blended in as well?

Much like the biotech nanocyte that I did on my Patreon last year, Galactic Magic gave us a taste of how nanomachines and magic could be blend together.

Honestly, the idea of nanites that can be used to channel magic is a great idea, a perfect example of technomagic in action. A nearly invisible force coming together to make something incredible happen, and that’s just the nanites being nanites, to say nothing of them casting actual spells!

Such nanomachines may differ a bit physically from their normal counterparts as well, such as clumping together to form fly-like swarm bodies when manifesting as a cloud, or displaying silvery runes all over their sheath array, to say nothing of the shapes of runes appearing around them as the nanomachines gather in the new array for this variation.

 Essentially, these mystical nanocytes trade the ability to form weapons and augments (and the number of minor objects they can form) with their nanomachines, but in exchange they gain access to a very limited selection of spells, which eventually tops off at two cantrips, two 1st, 2nd, and 3rd level spells, and one 4th level spell known. The cantrips can be cast a few times a day, but they gain only one spell slot per day, which grows in level as they do (though they can cast any variable-level spell using this slot without learning the higher level versions, so that’s nice). However, they can get around this by expending nanite surges to create another spell slot with a potency equal to the number of surges spent to create it, though they have to rest for a few minutes before they can do so again.

The resulting nanocyte is definitely not a full-on spellcaster. You’re better off cross-classing or reflavoring the imagery of a technomancer if that is what you want, but if you’re not interested in using nanotech weapons at all in your build and would like to have an arsenal of spells instead, this class feature might be for you. Obviously you should avoid the obliteration faculty since it’s outright unusable to you, but dealing damage with the infestation faculty or being more tanky with other faculties if fine too, relying on the cloud array to avoid attacks and the sheath for protection, and switching to the spell array when you need to make use of your spells. As for which spells to take, obviously spells that have variable level are a good choice, such as junk sword, but also consider spells that buff yourself, or provide answers for dealing with foes that a nanocyte might have trouble with on their own, such as lots of swarming enemies that a explosive blast would take care of, and so on.

 While some may multiclass or take archetypes to further enhance their magical ability, we can wonder about what sort of relationship these characters might have with magic and their nanites. If their infection with their symbiotic nanites was accidental, might they be baffled by the abilities they demonstrate. Others might have deliberately infected themselves to gain magical power that they simply couldn’t acquire by training, or been infected by others to test them. Others might have already been nanocytes, but consuming material from a technomagical object, or being blasted by some form of hybrid tech might have induced a strange changes in their capabilities.

  The wandering espraksa mercenary Iqoo is well known for adapting to any situation, and also for her silvery-white nanobots that swarm like a blizzard around her in battle. More interestingly, they is able to use them for magic, typically favoring extreme cold. She declines, however, to explain where she got them, only that she acquired them on her many travels.

 It should be obvious, but the world of Angor, with it’s strangely inconsistent gravity, is not a natural world, but actually an ancient construction filled with all sorts of wonders left over from it’s makers, including hybrid tech nanites. However, to find these remains, one must weather the biosphere and the planet itself, for if the territorial herd beasts don’t crush you, the sudden bouts of extreme gravity might.

 Insistent in finding a way to have the best of both worlds, KalCorp seeks to find a way for eldritch nanocytes to also manifest weapons, potentially channeling their magical power into versatile weapon fusions as well. However, volunteer test subjects of an already rare group are hard to find, and the team lead has begun resorting to kidnapping to fill their test chambers.

#starfinder #nanocyte #alternate class feature #eldritch nanites #espraksa #Galactic Magic