#are rarely too much different from regular writing save for being casual sometimes

[st5lker]

i find it soo intriguing to look at threads of japanese people learning english and discussing confusing grammatical rules because it really is the same thing as what english speakers learning japanese do and talk about. like for as many pages as i had to read to actually understand the difference between は and が i just read a thread in japanese where someone was so confused about why its “i ate some bread” and not “i ate a bread”. like its so interesting to think about things in english that feel so natural to me

#i always wonder what japanese people think about internet typing styles… like theres obviously japanese internet slang but japanese tweets- #are rarely too much different from regular writing save for being casual sometimes #and even then lots of japanese people use full keigo even on places like twitter… #hell even 2ch users use full keigo more often than the average english internet user capitalizes sentences/doesnt abbreviate words

[petersasteria]

💌- sam holland//mad hatter

I don’t write for Sam Holland, but I’ll make an exception.

𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 - "𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢'𝐦 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠"

Warning: it gets weirder and it’s not for the fainthearted. Probably not for minors as well. There’s no smut tho... only mentions of sex. You have been warned. Welcome to the weird side of my mind. 2.5k words

“Hello, Sam.” The psychiatrist greeted with a smile. Sam looked at her and only gave her a nod. “Is there any reason why you’re here today, Sam? A little birdie told me you needed some help. What happened?”

Sam looked at her with fear in his eyes as tears clouded his vision. He shakes his head and whimpered, “I’m not crazy. I’m normal! I swear, I am! I’m not crazy, but she is.”

“No one’s saying you’re crazy.” The psychiatrist smiled. She had a kind face and she was mother-like. The job suited her because her voice is calm and soothing. “Who is she?”

Sam closed his eyes as vivid flashbacks replayed on his mind. It flashed in his mind like it was being played on a projector and he was the only audience. He took a deep breath and said, “She lived two streets away...”

Sam never really went out a lot, but when he would go out, he’d stay out all day. The rest of the family wouldn’t question him as long as he got home safe and sound and unharmed. When he received a bike from his uncle, he thought it’d be best to try it out. After all, it’s been years since he rode a bike and this way, he’d be saving the Earth from pollution if he biked to work instead.

He popped his earphones on and got on his new bike and pedalled. He had no destination in mind and he was confident that he wouldn’t get lost because he grew up in the area and he knew a lot of places like this back of his hand. It was safe to say that he trusted himself and that was important.

He went through a few turns until he reached the other street. There wasn’t much to see, but he waved at a few of the neighbors he knew. When he turned again, he reached another street. It was at this time when he figured that he should go home. Instead of going back the way he came, he just biked straight ahead. He can’t possibly get lost. The streets have names and he knew what his street was and he knew how to get there from different ways.

He eyed at some of the house and inwardly judged at which house he liked best when suddenly he saw an abandoned house. He stopped in front of it and realized that not only was it abandoned, but it was also ruined.

The windows were no longer there and there were shards of glass on the ground. There was no grass and the steps of the front porch were broken. The second floor of the house was nonexistent, but two pillars were there. The walls on the ground floor were destroyed and it looked like the whole place was burned down.

Sam was in shock. He had never seen a house like that before. What he failed to notice was a girl about his age emerging from the bushes that had no leaves anymore.

“Hi there!” The girl grinned. Sam didn’t want to comment about her fashion sense and the way she grinned, so he gave her a small smile and said hello.

The girl moved and stood next to Sam as they faced the ruined house together. No one said anything for a while, but the girl broke it.

“What a shame.” The girl said. She was dressed in quite fancy yet eccentric clothing. She even had a fancy hat and laced gloves on her hands. She was wearing socks on top of her boots as well; another thing Sam failed to notice.

“Yeah, a shame indeed.” Sam nodded. “D’you know the person who lived here?” The girl nodded. Sam asked, “Who lived here?”

“Me.” The girl giggled. “I burned this place down because I’m having a party.”

“I’m sorry. WHAT?” Sam shrieked. He’s never met anyone who would burn the whole place down.

The girl laughed, “All this for a party. How extravagant!”

“What’s the occasion?” Sam asked.

“My whole family died in a tragic vacation accident. I felt the need to celebrate.” The girl grinned.

“Celebrate? Why would you celebrate? You lost your whole family! That must be so traum-”

“It’s the most tremendous news I’ve ever received. They think I’m crazy and I’m glad they’re all gone. That way, no one would judge me and my eccentric ways of living anymore.” The girl clapped happily.

“What’s your name?” Sam looked at her. Despite her weirdness, she was pretty.

“Y/N. What’s yours?”

“Sam.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Sam.” Y/N grinned. She shoved her hand in her pocket and fished out a crumpled card that had very fancy printing. Sam took it from her and he tried to read it, but failed. It was crumpled up really well.

“That’s an invitation to my party later tonight. Wear your BEST attire.” Y/N looked at him up and down, “Don’t wear any of that garbage.”

He was dressed casually. He wore khaki shorts, white sneakers, and a long sleeved shirt, the type of shirt Troy Bolton would wear. On top of that was an old jacket that never closed anymore because the zipper is missing.

Sam nodded and said, “I’ll, uh, do my best then.”

Night time came and he wore a button up and some pants and old sneakers. He hoped it was eccentric enough for the party. He told his family that he was invited by a friend and he went to the party.

Upon arriving at the house, he parked his new bike outside and saw fairy lights everywhere: on the trees, around the two pillars on the second floor, the grass-less ground, the wires and just- everywhere. The party also had balloons, streamers, 

He walked to the backyard because he saw that everyone was there. Y/N saw him and grinned, “Sam, you made it! You’re just in time for musical chairs.”

‘Musical chairs?’ He thought to himself. ‘The last time I played musical chairs, I was about 10 years old.’

Y/N grabbed his wrist and led him to the long table. She made him sit next to her and just when he got comfortable, Y/N and the person on his right grabbed his hands as they all got up and moved around the table as if playing “Ring Around The Rosie”. They all sang a song for about a minute and sat down again. Only this time, on different chairs.

Sam looked around the table and he saw everyone eating and talking. He figured he’d do the same, so he grabbed a cookie and took a bite. He hummed in delight as the sweet flavor of the cookie swirled on his taste buds. When he looked up from the cookie, he saw everyone looking at him.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked Y/N.

“You ate the cookie.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that I saw everyone eating and I figured I should... eat as well.” Sam explained. He felt foolish and embarrassed.

“Only females who have the red tide can eat the breast cookie.” Y/N said.

‘Did she fucking say ‘breast cookie’?!’ Sam asked himself while maintaining a cool expression.

“What’s a breast cookie?”

“The one you just ate. It’s made of breast milk. Regular milk is overrated. We all thank Madame Amanda for providing us with such great breast milk.” Y/N smiled towards a lady who sat a few seats across from her.

“And because Y/N’s guest ate the wrong food, we must fix the curse. Move!” One of them said.

Before Sam knew it, his hands were grabbed and they moved around the table once more. When they got comfy on their new seats, Y/N handed him the food he’s allowed to eat. An hour and 5 more times of switching seats later, ‘musical chairs’ was done.

Everyone stood up from their seats and moved to the center of the backyard. Sam followed Y/N’s actions and was surprised to hear that it was time to drink.

‘Finally some alcohol!’ Sam thought.

He was wrong. He seemed to forget that the people around him weren’t like him.

“What are we drinking?” Sam asked.

“It’s actually a drinking game. We’re all split into three groups and whichever group finishes the fastest, wins.” Y/N grinned and clapped her hands excitedly causing Sam to be excited too.

While everything was being set up, Sam conversed with Y/N a bit and then Amanda, the breast milk lady, said, “Split yourselves into three groups! If you wish to not join, you may watch at the side.”

Sam looked around and saw a few people moving to the side. He saw them having a look of pure disgust. He was about to approach one of them when Y/N grabbed his attention, “Sam, it’s rude to stare. The cum shots are ready.”

‘The cum shots? What?!’ Sam inwardly said to himself. Surely, he heard his wrong.

“The what?” Sam asked.

“The cum shots. Alcohol is overrated and this solves over population. Besides, it’s not just anyone’s cum. They’re from the guys here and some of the girls. It’s a wild card.” Y/N said with a grin.

“I’ll pass, then.” Sam said with a tight-lipped smile.

“Pass? Why?”

“I’m, uh...” He thought of a lie quick. “I have a fatal cum allergy.” Sam said and pretended to be upset.

Y/N laughed and said, “A fatal cum allergy? I knew I liked you. Guys with that allergy are so rare to find. Go and stand over there, then. Have fun watching.”

Sam wanted to vomit as he watched everyone down the shots like there was no tomorrow. 

“Disgusting, innit?” A guy next to him said and Sam nodded.

“Very.” Sam said, looking away from it all.

“Run while you can before your mind gets ruined forever. Whatever you do, never come back here after this. People like you end up in The Pod.”

“The Pod?” Sam asked in confusion.

“That’s what we call a mental hospital.”

“Why would they end up in The Pod?” Sam asked, afraid.

“They told everyone what happens here and no one believed them. These people that you see right now? They’re not like this sometimes. They’re actually normal people. Sometimes too normal it becomes creepy.” The guy explained.

“You’ll go insane if you tell anyone because no one will believe you. Run while you can.” The guy said and walked away when he saw Y/N approaching.

“What did he say to you?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing.” Sam lied. “We just talked about my fatal cum allergy.”

“Ahh, yes.” Y/N nodded. “Anyway, it’s time for my favorite part. Popping the balloons.”

“Okay.” Sam said, thankful that there’s a normal activity. Sam went back to the center of the backyard with Y/N. She handed him a gun and said, “Since you’re a guest, it’s your job to pop the biggest balloon.”

Sam eyed the gun and the biggest pink balloon. ”The prize is inside.” Y/N giggled like a high school girl.

Sam nodded and gulped. He aimed at the biggest balloon and pulled the trigger. Lucky for him, the bullet went through the balloon and it popped causing the contents of the balloon to fall.

Inside the balloon were: confetti, condoms, tea bags, heart shaped candies, pregnancy tests, and a small flashlight.

“Go on and pick the ones you want, Sam. You’ll definitely need the flashlight later for another game.” Y/N said as she picked up a few things.

“What do I need the flashlight for?” Sam questioned.

“Us girls are hiding something inside us and you boys have to find it. That’s what the flashlight is for.” Y/N explained before leaning in to whisper, “I’m hiding a small ring inside me.” She winked and smiled.

“What happens after that?” Sam asked.

“Sex.” Y/N shrugged. “It’s not just any sex, though. All the fair light will be closed and we’ll all have sex out here in the dark. The best part is we wouldn’t know who we had sex with. It’s a wildcard.”

“Just like the cum shots?”

“Just like the cum shots.”

Sam never thought he’d say words like that. In fact, he knew he should’ve declined the invite in the first place, but he figured it’d be nice to meet new people. He knew Y/N was weird, but he didn’t know she was bonkers.

“I actually have to go home now. I’m not feeling well.” Sam said politely.

“Oh, what a shame.” Y/N pouted. “I hope you’ll join the orgy next time you’re back and healthy. We’ll be painting white roses with blood on the next party. See you there.”

Sam gave her a tight-lipped smile, bid her goodbye, and left. He never came back, but the thought of keeping everything to himself made him antsy. A few days later, he finally cracked and told everything to Harry.

Then Tom.

Then Harrison.

Then Tuwaine.

The 4 men were concerned about him. After all, who wouldn’t be concerned? Sam told them the most absurd thing. Sam went as far as taking them to the house and sure enough, it was still ruined just like the day he saw it.

The only difference is, Y/N is nowhere to be found.

“I swear she’s here! You have to believe me.” Sam pleaded.

Tom looked at him and asked, “Sam, are you on drugs? If you are, that’s so unlike you.”

“I’m not on drugs! I’m telling the truth!” Sam said. He looked around and he saw Y/N wearing normal clothes and she seemed to be walking her dog.

“That’s her!” Sam pointed.

“Excuse me, miss!” Harrison called out causing Y/N to look over. He motioned for her to walk closer and she obeyed.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know him?” Harrison nodded his head at Sam as Sam looked at Y/N with pleading eyes. “He claims that you drank cum shots and have orgies at your party the other day. He also claims that you threw a party because your family died in a tragic accident. And is it true that you burned your own house down just for the party to make it extravagant?”

Y/N smiled sadly and said, “It’s true that I lost my family, but I would never throw a party to celebrate such loss. I would also never burn down my only living space. It was an accident; I left the oven on and it burned everything.”

“I’m so sorry.” Harrison said. “You may go now.”

Y/N nodded and left without sparing Sam one more glance.

“Liar!” Sam screamed and lunged towards her. Before he could do anything, Tom held him back and nodded at Harry.

“We’re scheduling you with a psychiatrist. You need help, mate.” Harry said, tapping away on his phone.

“That’s why I’m here now.” Sam said and finished his story.

The psychiatrist nodded and told him that it could be a realistic dream or something that linked to his past. To Sam, the psychiatrist didn’t make sense. He nodded along nonetheless. He wasn’t prescribed with anything, but he was told to stay away from the ruined house.

When Sam got home, he checked their mailbox and saw nothing except for a note. He grabbed the note and it read: 

‘I hope you learned your lesson from silently judging people. Just because someone else’s normal isn’t your kind of normal, doesn’t mean it’s less normal.

- Y/N x’

* * * *

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (bc he’s the twin so why not): @sufwubi @abrielleholland @purplepizza-summerrain @euphorichxlland @marshxx @lizzyosterfield @justanamesstuff @croissantwriting @blueleatherbag @givebuckyhisplumsnow

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @allyz @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @fancyxparker @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @theonly1outof-a-billion @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess @beequeen8020 @justafangirlduh

add yourself to my taglist if you’re cool x

#k's 1k sleepover #k's 1k 💌 #sam holland #sam holland x reader

[queercapwriting]

prompt about kara figuring out she's bisexual while falling in love with lena? if you could write that it'd be incredible! ♡

Kara flew into Alex’s living room window and immediately flopped backwards onto the couch, neatly inserting herself between Alex and Maggie.

Maggie snorted into her scotch and Alex groaned.

“Seriously, Kara?” Alex asked, her beer now spilled down her front.

“Ooh, just take it off, Danvers,” Maggie winked, and it was Kara’s turn to groan.

Alex disentangled herself from her little sister and took her beer-stained shirt off, hopping onto her bed to find the sweatshirt she and Maggie had quickly disposed of and left on the floor the night before.

“Listen, you left your window open,” Kara explained, rolling over so she was hanging off of Maggie’s lap, head upside down as she watched Alex tug her Stanford sweatshirt over her head. “If you close your window, it’s like leaving a sock on your door. I won’t come in. Or at least, I’ll text first. But if you leave your window open, then it’s like you’re basically inviting me.”

Alex glared, but there was no heat behind it. Maggie adjusted Kara so she could find her phone, stashed somewhere in the couch cushions. “I’ll order potstickers, shall I, Little Danvers?”

“See?” Kara moaned in delight. “You’re girlfriend understands me.”

Alex threw a pillow from her bed at Kara’s face with alarming accuracy.

Kara laughed and Maggie held up her glass of scotch. 

“Watch it, you two,” she shook her head.

“So what’s up, sis?” Alex trooped back to the couch, catching the pillow Kara launched back at her.

Kara heaved a sigh.

Alex knew – and so did Maggie, for that matter – that Kara letting herself be whiny and small and cute was a relief for her, a release valve. A way for her to step away from Supergirl and into Kara Danvers. 

She was competent and she was intelligent beyond belief and she knew so much more about quantum mechanics than she would ever admit, because after her planet died (for the first time), she’d trained herself to never reveal how much she knew about the universe, because then someone would discover her and then and then and then…

So letting herself be ridiculous, be whiny, be the consummate annoying little sister on her big sister’s date night was…

A relief.

It also meant she was too stressed, too worried, to bear being strong.

So when Alex sat back down, she tugged Kara’s feet into her lap, letting Maggie play absently with Kara’s hair after she put down her scotch and went about ordering the entire left side of the menu from Kara’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Well?” she prompted again. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Kara said, her voice suddenly more like Supergirl’s. Maggie and Alex exchanged a quick glance. 

“An extra three orders of potstickers it is,” Maggie said, and Kara smiled faintly. It was a good sign.

“I just have all these feelings,” Kara murmured, more like she was explaining to herself than to her big sisters.

“About?” Alex asked, tilting her head. Because she thought she knew – she and Maggie and James and Winn and even J’onn had good money on it – but they’d all been waiting for Kara to come to the realization herself, in her own time.

“About Lena,” Kara finally breathed.

“Okay,” Alex nodded, squeezing Kara’s knee. “That’s okay. I love you. Say more?”

“I don’t want to,” Kara whispered.

“That’s okay, too. Fleabag?” Alex asked, gesturing to the TV.

Kara nodded. Alex tossed one of the many throw blankets Maggie insisted on keeping on the couch Kara, and Maggie tucked in her shoulders while Alex burritoed her feet.

Kara practically purred. Alex and Maggie let her lay there, let her eat all their potstickers when the food arrived. Let her think and let her feel and let her process.

She was almost ready, but not quite yet.

+++

She had brunch with Lena the next morning. It was their regular Sunday brunch - because of course they had regular Sunday brunch - and Kara was shaking.

“It’s okay to be scared, Little Danvers,” Maggie promised her.

“It’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling,” Alex nodded, careful to be as non-specific as she could.

Kara nodded and kissed them both on the cheek before she flew out the window and down to Earth. 

To Lena.

Who was, of course, already seated at their brunch spot, at their specific brunch booth, two steaming mugs of coffee already ordered. She was leaning forward, her elbows on the table - a luxury for her, a novelty, Kara knew, because Lena Luthor had been raised to never even think about resting her elbows on the table - people watching intently, with a look of rare peace on her face.

It was beautiful. Lena was beautiful.

Kara tripped as she approached their booth.

Of damn course she did.

Lena stood immediately and opened her arms, which Kara knew was another novelty for her. Before Kara, it had only been Sam that Lena had been this affectionate with, this joyful.

And she and Sam had been…

Well, Kara tried to make like Elsa and conceal, not feel.

As she slipped into Lena’s arms, she could feel herself trembling, and was terrified she was failing.

She was always failing.

“Something’s wrong this morning,” Lena said, squinting slightly as she pulled back from their hug - Kara’s entire body keened from the loss - and examined Kara’s face closely as she held her by the shoulders.

Lena’s hand slid down Kara’s arm, then, and held her hand and she guided them to slide into their booth.

She didn’t let go of Kara’s hand, their fingers casually connected across the table.

Like Maggie sat with Alex.

Like James sat with Winn.

Like lovers sat.

Like Kara wanted to…

Oh Rao, not now. She had enough to deal with. She couldn’t risk losing Lena. She couldn’t risk…

Well, she wasn’t really sure what she was risking.

Everyone in her life was bi, was gay.

She’d just never thought about…

Well, there had been that fluttering in her stomach about Lucy Lane… and Cat Grant… but she’d just admired them, she’d just been infuriated by them…

She’d just loved them.

Oh, damn it all to hell.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she shook her head, but Lena’s eyes were perfect and her hand was warm and her lips looked…

Why was Kara looking at her lips?

She knew exactly why. 

She hoped Lena hadn’t noticed at the same exact moment that she hoped Lena did notice.

She adjusted her glasses with her free hand, and tried not to notice - or imagine, because she had to be imagining it, right? - the fondness in Lena’s eyes at her nervous gesture.

“Nothing’s wrong, but something’s up,” Lena said, her voice gentle. Kara liked to think it was a very particular kind of gentle Lena only had for her.

That was the kind of thing lovers had.

Friends had it too, she supposed. No, she knew they did. But this... this felt different.

This was different.

But if it was different, if she said it was different, then it would change, then it would be ruined.

Then she would lose it all.

Again.

Like she always did.

With everything.

Everything except Alex, and even that had changed. Sure, she’d gained a new big sister after a rocky start, and it was wonderful, but it was also different, and...

She didn’t know if she could handle more different.

But she wanted more. Or, not more, maybe that wasn’t the right word. She wanted something different. With Lena.

And it was terrifying.

“Wouyouwagodinwme?” Kara blurted, her face hotter than it had been since the last time she’d blown out her powers with overloading her heat vision.

“Come again, dear?” Lena asked, smiling but not quite laughing at her, because Lena laughed with her, but never at her.

Kara gulped, because there wasn’t really much going back now.

She thought of Alex, and she thought of Maggie, and James and Winn and J’onn’s proud smile when Alex had come out to the crew.

“Would you want to. Go to dinner with me.”

Lena’s eyes widened, then closed, then opened, then closed. Her mouth went on a similar journey, and Rao did Kara want to kiss her.

“We haven’t even had brunch yet, darling, but you know your stomach better than anyone, so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we just ate our way through to dinner time.”

Darling. She’d called her darling.

Lena did that, sometimes.

Her face always went red right afterward, like it had now.

Kara dared to hope. She gulped again, and she put her other hand on Lena’s.

Tentative, but brave.

Scared, terrified, but sure.

“I didn’t mean because I’m hungry.” Her stomach, of course, chose that very moment to growl. The traitor. “I mean, I’m always hungry.” Lena squeezed her hands, a smile tugging at her lips. But Kara had rarely seen her eyes so intense. And Lena was, to say the least, a very intense person. 

“I mean, I’m always hungry, but I didn’t mean... I meant. Do you... it’s okay if you don’t, I love being your friend, I really do, of course I do. But when I said do you want to have dinner, I meant, if you wanted to. Um.” 

Lena’s eyes were steady and shining and maybe just a little bit hopeful and Kara could carry a plane and barely break a sweat, how could she possibly find it this hard to come out at the same time as she was asking out the most beautiful woman she’d ever known?

Well, maybe when she put it like that, carrying a plane was easier.

“Kara Danvers,” Lena decided to swoop in and save Supergirl’s day. “Are you asking me on a date? Because if you are, the answer is a resounding yes. If you’re not, well, I’m sure there are plenty of caves I can go hide in for the next thousand -”

“Yes. Yes, I was, and yes, I - really? You’d want - to - you - with me?”

“Yes,” Lena said, and her voice dropped in a way that did things to Kara’s entire body. “Yes, I want to. Yes, with you. I was terrified you didn’t feel the same way. That you weren’t even into women.”

Kara pffted. “I was terrified you didn’t feel the same way! And I think now would be the time Maggie would say something like, ‘oh please, have you seen the way Kid Danvers dresses?’”

Lena laughed, and it was music and it was perfect. She brought Kara’s hands up to her mouth, and she was extremely grateful that spontaneous combustion wasn’t actually a thing, because if it were, the feeling on Lena’s lips on her knuckles would have...

“I would be honored to go on a date with you, Kara. Many dates. A lot of dates. So many dates.”

Lena Luthor was... rambling. 

Oh. Oh. Oh. 

She really did like Kara back.

Her smile was suddenly megawatt, and it was her turn to kiss Lena’s hands.

“Pancakes?” she asked.

“I already ordered three stacks,” Lena smiled, and Kara nearly took flight then and there.

But, for once, not to fly away from anything. To just be... ecstatic. To celebrate. For the sheer joy of flying, of... of living.

She’d definitely have to see how Lena felt about flying later. Though maybe that was a third date kind of thing.

And apparently, Lena wanted to go on many dates with her.

When their food arrived, pancakes had never tasted sweeter. 

#supercorp #sanvers #danvers sisters #supercorp fic #sanvers fic

[council-of-readers]

Living with Willow, Fred, and Darla Headcanons

Request: Hi, you can just ignore this until Octobers over but your living with hc's were freaking incredible! can you please do the same sorts of hc’s with Willow, fred and maybe Darla if you write for her?

Thank you so much!! I hope you like them. Vampire!Reader for Darla, so some violence and mild NSFW mentions, but nothing explicit.

~•~

Willow:

Willow is an incredibly easy going roomie, especially when she's your girlfriend.

You two share an apartment, which is surprisingly large. You suspected Willow might have done something magic wise to keep the rent so low, but it was a great deal, so you didn't look too hard at it.

It had a decently sized kitchen, fridge, microwave, oven, and enough cupboards for all your dishes. Definitely a step up from what most of your friends had snagged.

It wasn't in the best part of town, but luckily being in Sunnydale that meant you were only about half a block from the good part of town.

When you aren't out doing Scooby work, school work, or just regular work, you spend a lot of time home with each other.

She never really gets sick of you, which is fantastic since you are living together.

It's almost impossible to annoy her.

The only time you might is if you hog all the blankets.

She gets very cold at night so you stealing them feels like a personal attack.

In order to make sure you both get the blanket area needed, you might have to make some sacrifices and snuggle up together.

The horror.

Willow is a very good cuddler, and you are never short of physical affection.

If you're standing and doing something, even if it's cooking, she'll come behind you with a hug. You had to implement a rule where if you were doing something with the stove she had to wait after an unfortunate incident involving a very nice, flowy top.

Date nights at home are usually very casual.

A movie and snacks, baking, or sometimes just reading together.

She likes reading with you.

Often Willow will curl up next to you and read over your shoulder, or ask that you do the same with her. She also loves reading to, and being read to by you.

Adorable nerdy stuff.

Fights are rare, and only really happen if you deliberately try to hurt her feelings.

The one thing she is touchy about is a messy living area.

Clean your dishes and pick up your clothes, though, and you're in the clear.

Fred:

You were already living together in a way before you started dating, but when you officially got together you just decided to share a room.

Living in the the hotel means you already have a good idea of everyone's routines and habits, but there is something different about sharing a bed with someone.

Fred is a very sleepy person.

She doesn't sleep often, which is part of the problem, but she's perpetually tired. There's too much work to be done, though, in her mind.

You will need to force her to go to bed.

She won't resent you for it, and there won't be much of a fight, but without you making her she will be up until she collapses.

She's a really big fan of cuddling, asleep or awake.

Often times you'll wake up to her arms around your waist, or her head on your chest.

It's very sweet and endearing.

Sleepy mornings are a regular occurrence.

Your wake up schedules have become synced up over the course of living and working together, which means there are many times where you stay in bed under the warm covers, just enjoying each other and the peace you find in those moments.

Your work is loud and chaotic, and you live with so many other people who can also be loud and chaotic, so those small moments where it's just you two mean everything.

Lunch dates are more common than breakfast or dinner, but food is almost always involved.

You don't tend to stay at the hotel for them, both of you preferring to get out and about for something that doesn't involve demons or murder.

L.A. isn't the most safe city in the world, but it can really feel like home when you go out in it with her.

Fred is also really easy to live with, though she can be a bit of a mess sometimes.

The room isn't dirty, but it gets pretty cluttered, so it may be a good idea to implement weekly cleanings.

It's mostly cluttered with half complete contraptions or books. Rarely clothes or dishes.

A little help from you would be greatly appreciated.

She's very loving and affectionate.

You will never forget how she feels about you and her love is reflected in everything she does with you.

Darla:

You don't tend to stay in one place for too long, but she definitely has a standard of living she tries to keep up.

Only lavish mansions, villas, and castles, if she can find one.

She wants to give you the best she can, and expects as much in return.

At the start of your relationship, she will be the one showing you the ropes, scouting out areas, and chosing where you stay, but once you get a feel for what she likes, surprise her.

While she's out scouting, find a rich family, remove them in whichever way you see fit, and secure the house for her.

She will reward you in one of a few ways, items, sex, or a special meal.

It's a toss up as to which it will be.

A combination of all three isn't unheard of, especially if she likes the place more than usual.

If you find a particularly nice living area, consider saving the family for her. She does enjoy doing things with you, and there is something special about sharing the slaughter of a family with somebody you care about.

She does care about you, in as much as she's able.

She brings you gifts, clothing, weapons, art, and people, to show it, but she doesn't give you much physical affection outside of sex.

Darla won't object to you being affectionate with her, but you will be made fun of if you do it frequently.

The only thing she doesn't point out are small touches on the waist or the shoulder.

She secretly enjoys those.

While you two typically share a bed, you mostly only sleep together after an exhausting night.

Since you do get up to a bit of trouble wherever you're staying, it's important one of you stays up to keep watch.

The last thing either of you want is to be staked in your sleep, or for someone to sneak in and open the curtains.

While you only stay in each house for a year tops, though it's mostly just a few months, Darla puts effort into making it your own.

She decorates, cleans, and rearranges furniture every time you move.

While she won't ask for help, she will be appreciative if you get any sort of nice decoration for her, even if it's just a simple vase. The idea that you think of her outside of your direct interactions endears you to her enough that it is occasionally the only thing keeping her from selling you out.

Though, that happens on occasion, too.

#darla btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #angel the series #angel #ats #fred burkle #winifred burkle #fred burkle x reader #willow rosenberg #willow x reader #willow rosenberg x reader #darla headcanons #ats headcanons

[quickspinner]

Second Chance - Ch 1 The One That Got Away

Hello friends! Continuing posting my backlog of work that was posted to AO3 but not Tumblr. You can filter the backlog tag if you don’t want to see these fyi.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Summary: 

It's been years since he last saw Marinette. He's a successful rock star and she's been traveling the world chasing her dreams. Luka thought he had grown up and moved on, but when Marinette lands back in Paris and seeks him out, it takes about ten seconds for him to figure out he can't resist a second chance.

Aged-up, total self-indulgent Lukanette fluff. There will be some implied sexual content later on but nothing explicit. 

The beginning of this first chapter comes from the last chapter of I Will Give You the Stars, and while you don’t have to have read that one first, the two stories do go well together.

Luka tossed his sweaty hair back from his face and looked out at the blinding lights. “Okay guys,” he said into the microphone, picking idly at his guitar. “I think we’re gonna take it down a bit for this next song. But first, can we bring the house lights up please?”

Used to his quirks, the lighting crew responded quickly, dimming the lights in his eyes and turning up the lights on the crowd in the packed stadium.

“That’s better,” Luka said, skimming the crowd of fans waving and screaming wildly. “I know this might be kinda weird if this is your first show with me, but I just like to see you. Put some faces to my audience. This is a two way street, you and me, and I don’t wanna forget that.”

A small crowd of girls off to his right screamed in rehearsed unison, “WE LOVE YOU LUKA!” 

He grinned toward them and winked. “Love you too, sweethearts.” As they shrieked excitedly he looked at the banner they were holding up, decorated with birthday cakes and glittery letters. “Seventeen huh? Nice. Happy birthday, babe.” The girl in the middle of the group wearing a sparkly tiara put her hands over her mouth, eyes huge, while her friends practically mobbed her. Luka chuckled and returned to his perusal of the crowd, meeting as many eyes as he could. Somewhere a group of fans screamed for Juleka and out of the corner of his eye he could see her raise a lace-gloved hand to blow them a kiss. 

Suddenly he locked eyes with a familiar sapphire gaze and the rest of the stadium disappeared. 

“Well hey there, beautiful,” he said softly, ignoring the several ladies in the line of his gaze who swooned or screamed. She knew who he was talking to, a slow smile spreading over her face. “I didn’t know you were back in Paris.” His grin widened as he took in the faces around her. “Wow, check it out Jules, looks like a bunch of old friends came to see us tonight. Awesome.” 

He tore his gaze away with effort, and looked up to the balcony. He couldn’t see faces up there as well, but he let his gaze rake across slowly before nodding. “All right. Now that we know each other, let’s get back to the music, shall we?”

The lighting crew recognized their cue, and the blinding lights were back as the stadium went dark. Luka stepped back from the mic for a moment to take a deep, centering breath, focusing on the vibrations of the stage that he could feel even through his heavy boots, the feel of his guitar in his hands, and the song he could still hear ringing in his mind even though he couldn’t see her anymore.

Then his fingers began to move, and he stepped back up to the mic.

***

They didn’t get to meet their friends that night, which was just as well as far as Luka was concerned. He wasn’t ever at his best right after a show, sweaty and sore and exhausted and he definitely didn’t want to see her looking like he’d just been run over by his tour bus. But Rose—bless beautiful, sweet, romantic Rose—Rose had his back. When Juleka wasn’t looking, Rose slipped a piece of paper in his hand that had a phone number, a time, and the name of his favorite café. “I knew you’d be free in the morning,” she whispered. “I figured you wouldn’t mind missing out on the sleep.”

“You’re the best,” he whispered back, slipping the paper in his pocket as Rose glanced anxiously at Juleka.

Marinette was already waiting outside the next morning as he walked up, looking like she’d walked straight out of his dreams. She caught sight of him and smiled, turning to face him as his heart skipped a few beats.

He was a grown-ass man and a legitimate rock star, and that smile still did things to him. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Luka grinned, opening his arms. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hi Luka,” Marinette smiled, coming into his arms to hug him and then rising on her toes to exchange cheek kisses. “The show last night was great.”

“It was great to have you guys there,” Luka said, letting her go and opening the café door for her. “I have to admit, I’m getting kinda sick of big shows. I miss connecting with people the way I did when I was playing smaller venues.”

“The price of being a famous rock star,” she said as he pulled out a chair for her at his usual table.

“Not that famous,” he protested, sitting down across from her.

“Pretty famous,” she grinned, leaning her elbows on the table to look up at him. 

He shrugged and grinned at the ground. “Yeah, okay, maybe.”

Marinette smiled. “I’m glad it hasn’t changed you, Luka.”

“So when did you get back in town?” Luka asked, ready to be done talking about himself. 

“Two nights ago.”

“And the first thing you did was come see my show? I’m flattered.”

“Really, I was lucky,” Marinette admitted. “The others got tickets ages ago, before I knew I would be here, but Mylene’s at that stage of pregnancy where she’s falling asleep all the time, so she gave me her ticket. I think Ivan was relieved, actually.”  

Luka picked up her hand. “Marinette, any time you want to come to a performance you know you just have to ask.”

“Says the man who’s changed his number four times in the last year,” she teased. 

Luka winced. “Yeah this whole fame thing really puts a crimp in my social life sometimes. I have a whole new appreciation for what Adrien went through in school. At least not that many people recognize me like this.” He gestured to his casual outfit, black jeans and a plain grey tshirt that were a far cry from his elaborate stage costumes and makeup. “Sometimes people recognize the hair and the ink but mostly I get left alone as long as I keep a low profile.” 

Marinette rested her chin on her hand and smiled up at him. “I like the hair. Must be cooler on stage this way, and it photographs better. Your eyes are too nice to be hidden all the time.”

“So my agent told me,” Luka sighed, running his hand over the short hair beneath the blue tinted locks falling from the top. “And you’re right, it is cooler. I like yours too,” he added, reaching out his free hand to tweak a loose strand on her shoulder. “You look good with it long. Anyway, I’m sorry about the phone thing. I’ll give you my assistant’s number before we leave, she can always put you through if I have to change it again. I don’t want to lose touch with you over something so stupid.”  He realized suddenly that she was blushing, watching his thumb move over her fingers. Fortunately the waiter approached just at that moment, giving him an excuse to let go of her hand casually. 

Luka was a regular here and he chatted easily with the staff as they came and went with water and menus, but he had a hard time keeping his eyes off Marinette. Damn, after all this time she still affected him the same way, drawing him in like a magnet. Like him, she was dressed casually, in jeans and a fitted shirt with a wide neck that left a distracting amount of her freckled shoulders and collarbone bare. She was everything he remembered, just matured, mellowed, more. He’d known in his gut that he was on a high-speed train to heartbreak the minute he’d locked eyes with her in the show.

“Tell me what you’ve been doing since you left,” Luka said as soon as the staff had left with their orders. 

“So many things,” Marinette breathed. “Luka, it was amazing, I learned so much and I got to see and do so much.”

“Tell me,” he murmured, leaning on the table, already entranced by her passion. God, he needed his guitar, he could write whole albums on the look in her eyes right now.

She brightened, pulling out a battered sketchbook. Luka moved his chair around the table to be next to her and propped his chin in his hand, letting her voice wash over him as she took him on a tour of her dreams.

“I’m not boring you, am I?” she asked suddenly, looking up at him with slightly wide eyes that reminded him of the nervous girl who’d walked into his room all those years ago.

“Not in the least,” he told her and he knew he must be giving her some kind of look because her blush spread down to her neckline. 

He was saved from doing something reckless by the arrival of their food. Clearing his throat, he moved back to his end of the table and asked about her parents. 

They talked about their families as they ate, the crazy things Anarka got up to that Luka had to bail her out of (sometimes with the police, once literally when there was a mishap on the boat), how Marinette’s parents had coped with her two-year absence, what their mutual friends had been up to. 

And she told him about the things that hadn’t been so great about her trip, the jet lag and the long hours, picking up from one city and moving on just when she’d finally gotten comfortable, the frustrations of frequently having conversations in English when it was neither conversant’s first language. 

“Every time I’d get depressed I’d feel ungrateful,” she told him, idly picking apart what was left of her food. “Like, so many people entered that competition and out of everyone they chose me to have this fantastic experience in all these different design houses, and there I was acting homesick and lonely.  And...meeting so many new people made me realize how rare and precious my true friends are...and how maybe there were some I didn’t appreciate enough.” She glanced up at him through her lashes, biting her lip, and he swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say. 

Before he could, she pushed her plate away and abruptly changed the subject. “So, when are you going to put out another calendar?” She ginned.

Luka groaned and put his face down on the table. “Please tell me you didn’t see one of those.”

“Oh I very much did,” she laughed. “If I can find it once I’m unpacked maybe you’ll sign it for me. October was my favorite, though July was probably the most...hmm...inspiring.” She laughed as he put his arms over his head, partly to cover the brilliant red that he was sure covered his neck and ears. “Luka Couffaine, are you actually embarrassed?”

“Thoroughly,” he said from beneath his arms. Sighing, he forced himself to sit up, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “I try really hard to pretend that whole thing never happened, honestly. I felt like such a—“ He shook his head.

“Was it really awful?” She asked, her amusement turning to sympathy.

“I hated every minute of it,” he said bluntly. “I didn’t want to do it but a bunch of things happened at once right then and my family really needed the money. And I figured, better me than Juleka, who knows what they’d have wanted her to do and her fans are way scarier than mine.” He made a face. “Don’t tell her I said that, she’ll get all pissed at me for getting all big brothery on her.”

“I’m sorry, Luka, I didn’t know.” Marinette reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I won’t tease you about it anymore.”

“Thanks.” His mouth quirked up at the corner. “October, huh? That was the black and white one, right? That one wasn’t so bad. At least it was artistic. And I got to wear actual pants.”

Marinette giggled. “And you made them look good. It was a good picture. Sexy, but soulful. And with the guitar and the ripped jeans, it felt like I was seeing you, and not a stranger who kinda looked like you, you know.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Honestly it wasn’t the pictures I minded so much, my agent kept the really embarrassing ones out of it and we made sure they were destroyed, just I could have lived without being treated like a doll without any feelings or dignity.” 

“Mmm, I see that a lot. A lot of designers and stylists stop seeing models as people. I guess knowing Adrien for so many years made it hard for me to think that way. The designers I was shadowing got really frustrated with me because of it.”

“Maybe I’m hopelessly optimistic but I think your way will pay off in the end.” He winked at her. “I can guarantee that if I ever have to do anything like that again, I’ll be calling you to be my stylist. If this tour weren't already under contract I’d hire you on the spot.” 

Marinette kicked him under the table. “You’re biased, Luka.”

“Always have been when it comes to you. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Luka,” she began and then hesitated. He waited patiently, though curiosity was eating him alive as she licked her lips and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Listen I know you’re really busy and your schedule’s kind of crazy and it was already super nice of you to make time to have lunch with me—“ Luka had to cover the smile tugging at his lips with his hand at this very Marinette ramble. “But I was wondering, if you might want to have dinner with me, um...as a date.” She swallowed and looked up at him and he could not believe that she thought for one second he might actually say no.

“Hell yeah,” he grinned, reaching out to take her hand. “I mean I do have to check my schedule, but I’ll make time. I’ll call you? Probably not tonight, but no later than tomorrow evening, I promise.”

His phone alarm went off in his pocket before he’d even finished speaking, and he sighed, pulling it out.

“You have to go?” Marinette smiled crookedly.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, silencing the alarm and putting his phone away. He reached across the table and took her both hands in his. “It’s been great seeing you again Marinette. I’m so glad we’ve been able to catch up.” He kissed her hands as he stood up. “I’ll call you soon, okay?” 

“Was everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Couffaine?” 

Luka turned, grasping the hand offered by the suited man behind him. “Fantastic as always, Gerard, and how many times do I have to tell you to call me Luka?” Gerard smiled under his mustache but didn’t reply. “Please let the lady have whatever she’d like for dessert on my tab, okay?” 

“Of course, Mr. Couffaine.”

Luka rolled his eyes and smiled back at a Marinette one more time with a quick wave, her own smile warming him as he turned to go.

The minute the studio's car service picked him up, his phone was in his hand.  “Lucille,” he said when his assistant picked up, hoping she couldn’t hear the idiotic grin on his face. “Yeah, I’m on my way, but have you got a few minutes? Can you run me through what my schedule looks like? I need you to free up an evening for me in the next week.”

It took more than a few minutes, and he had to cancel three meetings and move back a rehearsal, but he could not bring himself to care. 

Because when the one that got away suddenly walks back into your life and asks you out, who gives a crap about meetings?

#quickspins #backlog #yes give me all the lukanette hugs #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlfics #second chance

[thou-writest-of-nothing]

Something for Aizawa and Shinsou, please? Maybe in an AU where they're civilians and in unrequited love with a workaholic hero? The hero has a "I don't have time for relationships, saving people is my top priority" attitude so they don't even notice how Aizawa/Shinsou feels about them (separately, not poly. Thank you very much!)

(Thanks for sending in your request! I really like this idea! It was fun to write! I decided to do scenarios because you didn’t specify, and this prompt felt more natural as a scenario. I may have gotten a biiiit carried away with Aizawa’s but he’s my favorite sooooo oh well. Please Note: y/h/n means “your hero name”)

Aizawa Shota

It wasn’t like Shota to obsess over things. He was just a normal guy, working a normal job. He got up, went to his teaching job, maybe hung out with one of his few friends, and then went home.

That is, unless (y/h/n) was involved. The dedication and passion you had for your job were beyond admirable. He had met you in person once when he was with his old friends Hizashi and Nemuri. He fell in love immediately. The way you spoke, the way your hair sat on their head, how you rushed your words when they got passionate about hero work… It made his heart thud loudly in his chest. When you made eye contact with him, his face never failed to heat up.

It was embarrassing, Shouta remembers thinking. I’m like a goddamned school kid, is a thought that crosses his mind more often than not, but he can’t seem to be bothered to do anything about it. You were rarely able to hang out, but when you could, Aizawa would sit maybe a little too close. He would actually laugh with them instead of the usual smile or heavy exhale through the nose.

Hizashi had talked with him about it. Being Shouta’s best friend, he could easily tell when he had feelings for someone, sometimes even before he did. Hizashi decided to be “helpful” and play a game of truth or dare the next time y/n was free.

That didn’t happen for a few weeks.

The day it did, Shouta was nervous. He’d asked Hizashi to not ask about him directly, just in case things went poorly. He would surely die of embarrassment.

“So, y/n,” Hizashi said after explaining the rules of the game. “Truth or dare?”

You rolled their eyes, knowing full well what both he and Nemuri were capable of daring. “Truth.”

“Aww, come on! I had a good dare picked out, too. Oh well.” He looks around the room like a question will be written somewhere. He winks at Shouta (though you didn’t notice) and spoke again. “So what’s your love life look like? You got a special someone, or maybe you’ve got your eyes on someone?

You snorted. /Oh shit./ Shouta can feel his face get painfully hot. Not like a blush, like someone threw boiling water in his face after he’d been out in the cold. He looked down so his hair fell in his face, hiding it from view.

“Yeah right, Mic. Like I’d ever have time for a relationship. Saving people is all I care about, so why bother? Besides, nobody would want to date me anyway. Not gonna happen.” You said all of this so casually, practically laughing.

Shouta, on the other hand, was not light-hearted about this. He felt like his chest was being stomped on, but y/n didn’t notice. His vision blurred with a few tears, and so he sniffed to clear his nose, blinked them away, and cleared his throat. “I, um.” His voice was scratchy and strained, so he cleared his throat. “I gotta get going, I’ve got a stack of papers to grade. I shouldn’t have even come out tonight in the first place.” He stood up.

“Aw, man. Well, duty calls, I suppose. Maybe some other time then, Aizawa?” You asked from the couch you were sitting on. You didn’t have many friends outside of work, but those you did you treasured dearly. You weren’t sure if he liked you though, so you stuck to using his surname.

Little did you know, that felt like daggers to him. “Yeah, maybe. Have a good night,” he said before speed-walking out of the room. I should’ve known. I’m so stupid, of course, they wouldn’t want anything like that. Stupid, stupid. He finally lets the tears fall once the door to his apartment is safely shut behind him.

Shinsou Hitoshi

Shinsou is a relatively unreadable guy. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking and he likes it that way. Especially when y/h/n comes in for their regular coffee order. You didn’t always have a lot of time to talk, but you always made sure to be super nice to any baristas who were working, and to other patrons. You’d taken a liking to this one purple-haired barista in particular who was always polite and had your coffee made in the time it took for you to walk from the door to the counter.

It was easier to be super nice to those who made themselves memorable, especially when they looked like y/n.

The two of you often engaged in conversation, especially in the early mornings when things moved slowly. He speaks kindly and smiles, and maybe he’s written his number on a cup or two (which you’ve accidentally thrown away without realizing), but you brush it off as him being kind. It’s typical of a barista to be kind to their customers, right? Especially the regulars.

Shinsou, however, views this as a quiet rejection. He’s torn between giving up and maybe asking to work a different shift (he’s a little petty like that), but he doesn’t. He’d rather see his crush reliably every morning, living for the accidental brush of hands as either money or coffee is exchanged, living for the light conversation if you have the time, and it’s a godsend when you do. He’ll coordinate his breaks so after your drink is finished the two of you can talk while you do drink, and he’ll listen to you talk about whatever it is you’d like to, chin in hand.

But at night, when he’s lying awake watching the news, thinking about the danger you put yourself in every day, his heart throbs. He feels stupid, but he longs to be the person you’d come home to, the first person you’d tell your day to. He would give anything to hold you and it hurts him to know that that won’t happen. He’s decided to stop counting the mornings he’s woken up to wet pillowcases because hey, he gets to open the coffee shop today.

#bnha #bnha x reader #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa #aizawa x reader #shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou #hitoshi #shinsou x reader #x reader

[kiruuuuu]

Doc/Lion oneshot in which they kiss and make up after a fight. And, uh, other things. (Rating E, utter filth + fluff, ~5.2k words) - written for the ever so wonderful @icezero09​ (and welcome back to tumblr!) 💖 Thank you so, so much for commissioning me again :) You’re a joy to write for! Find my commission info here ♥

.

It’s rare for Lion to hesitate in front of his own damn apartment, keys jangling forlornly in his half-raised hand and a dull, empty feeling in his stomach.

The first time he did so lies a while back and was entirely self-imposed: following one of the most memorable nights in his life (and with his past, this means a lot) as well as a terrifying confession, he announced a trip to the nearest bakery for croissants and fresh coffee, knowing full well he was allowing for an escape. Upon his return, he rested his forehead on the cool, off-white lacquer of his door, hoping to affect reality by repeating a mantra in his mind, over and over again. Please be there still. Please be there still. Please be there still.

When he was greeted by Doc, in his underwear, subtly complaining about his fridge being worryingly empty, he could’ve burst from the pure joy exploding in him.

Another time he wavered because of a question he was about to pose, a question which had occupied his thoughts for weeks by then. The prospect of not being refused was thrilling with how much he wanted to turn his regular visitor into a permanent resident, yet they’d only been together for a few months by then. It might’ve been too early, too much of a commitment to move in together, too much to ask to share their living space. Lion had gotten lucky with his flat, snagged one with large windows, evening sunlight, spacious enough for a dedicated office and both a bathtub and a shower, and picturing Doc becoming a part of it all filled him with giddy anticipation. Regardless, the possibility of being turned down remained and so he gathered his courage in front of the very door which would become their door after a dizzyingly short amount of time.

Right now, he’s also mentally preparing himself for a potentially difficult conversation, though there are entirely too many ways it could go. The backpack dangling off his shoulder is not getting any lighter and neither are the memories of red dust, large tents lined up one after another and helplessness etched into faces. He’d volunteered for the deployment despite knowing it’ll leave him without closure – diseases will always rage on somewhere and their efforts might make a difference in one town, one city, one region, one country, but ultimately it’s like trying to fill up a swimming pool using only a cup. What he needs now is a hug, a little bit of peace and no responsibilities other than buying groceries. He loves his job, it gives him purpose and direction in life, and yet he can’t deny it drains him sometimes until there’s no energy left.

Definitely no energy to continue arguing.

“I’m home!��, he announces into the quiet once he’s discarded his shoes and hung up his jacket, receiving no response. He was looking forward to coming home throughout the entire flight, picturing a warm welcome, an apology, something along those lines and is genuinely annoyed to encounter none of it. The kitchen is empty and so is their bedroom where he drops his backpack onto the mattress he’s missed dearly (among other things), but in the living room he finds Doc in his usual armchair, sipping coffee with a book in his lap and looking up once Lion appears in the doorway.

He’s gorgeous.

It shouldn’t come as a shock but does nonetheless, two weeks of absence facilitate taking a step back and looking at him in a new light; almost as if he’s seeing him for the first time again. He looks… warm, even inviting, his kind eyes making up for the disapproving curl of his mouth, body relaxed and showing off his sculpted arms in the short-sleeved polo he’s wearing. Even casually, he dresses like he’s been invited to an informal business outing; Lion has never seen him just in sweatpants and supposes this is one of the reasons why Doc always comes across as distinguished. And he’s never wanted anything more than to curl up in his lap, cling to him and never let go.

Doc runs his gaze up and down his body, causing a pleasant tingling and maybe, just maybe he’s in the mood for -

“You look like you need a shower.”

His calm words are ice cubes on Lion’s skin. He’s not wrong, a fourteen hour flight will do that to anyone, but it’s far from what Lion has been hoping to hear. “Yeah”, he snaps without meaning to sound this harsh, “I probably do.”

The argument from before he left continues in his head while he’s basking in the heat of the water drumming down on his skull: he was only doing his job, after all. That’s why he got hired – he’s a professional and refuses to let emotions interfere with his work, and that’s a good thing, isn’t it? He nearly drops the shampoo bottle in agitation and hits his elbow on the cool tiles as he proceeds to weave an impenetrable net of arguments in his mind, counters everything Doc could throw at him effortlessly and recalls the things they spat at each other two weeks ago.

Ultimately, it was his jurisdiction seeing as it was a containment issue, albeit a relatively minor one. He planned on taking the necessary steps while Doc undermined his authority along the way, much to his irritation – maybe he did misdiagnose the boy and paint a picture more grim than reality, yet the scheduled tests would’ve cleared it up without a doubt and brought both the child as well as his mother the deserved peace of mind instead of sending them home from quarantine early. In the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter whether she had urgent appointments to get to and the boy was frightened almost to the point of hysterics, not if their staying overnight would’ve ensured they’re good to go, so Doc was entirely out of line by declaring them safe and allowing them to leave.

Even though they were safe. Lion admits that. Everyone knew, but regulations are there for a reason and why allow for making mistakes when there’s safety procedures which benefit literally everyone and hell, he’s getting worked up again.

He curses under his breath and shuts the water off. It’s about the principle of it all. Doc can’t continue being as lenient as he is and it’s bad enough Six and the others are catering to his bleeding heart, Outbreak being only one of the many examples Lion can think of – if they’d lost some of their best ops going on that frankly idiotic suicide mission to save Macintosh, it would’ve been a disaster. The fact that it happened to work out is irrelevant.

Angrily, he shrugs on one of his nice shirts out of spite, buttoning it while glaring at himself in the mirror. He’s going to show Doc what he’s been missing out on these past weeks. Maybe he should casually drop a few names to make Doc really regret not talking to him while he was in Africa. Well. It’s not like he messaged or called Doc, but again. It’s about the principle of it all.

While dressing fully, he prepares an opening sure to grab Doc’s interest while simultaneously sounding dismissive, ends up stomping into the living room to deliver his short speech and is about three syllables in when he realises Doc isn’t even there anymore.

“… Olivier?”

He turns around to an amused-looking Frenchman in the kitchen, lifting a cup to indicate it’s for Lion and he dares to still look utterly irresistible. Lion pushes away the mental image of just tossing the mug into the sink in favour of tracing Doc’s jaw line with his tongue (but fuck, it’s tempting) and instead blurts out something he doesn’t even mean, something which needs far more context than, well, nothing: “I wish people stopped listening to you all the time.”

Doc’s face turns stony and Lion wants to kick himself. “Or we can fight instead of catching up”, he mutters and slams the coffee onto the counter, causing it to slosh over. “That’s fine too.”

Lion has joined his lover in the kitchen now, brows scrunched together. “I don’t want to fight”, he states lamely.

“No. You just want to rehash an argument for which we found no solution while insisting you’re right. Big difference.”

Alright. Maybe he wants to fight a little, if only to get a rise out of Doc who’s infuriatingly composed still. “I met some of your former colleagues from MSF”, he tactically switches topics to hopefully appease his boyfriend enough in the meantime so he gives in once Lion pushes the previous issue some time later. “Martina says hi.”

“I know. We talk regularly.” Ouch. The cutting quality of the remark is not lost on him: Doc is pissed that he didn’t even let him know whether he arrived safely. “She also tells me you got shot.”

This, at least, he can de-escalate. “I was shot at, but not hit.”

“Martina mentioned blood.”

“It was a graze shot on my side. It’s healed already.”

Doc seems thoroughly unimpressed – not undeservedly, Lion has been known to either downplay or exaggerate his own injuries wildly, though he hasn’t told anyone the real reason. Pretending he was worse off than it appeared ensured a trip to Doc’s office, and acting as if everything was fine surely impressed the Frenchman once he was there. A foolproof system. “If you say so.”

“I say it because it’s true. Were you worried about me?”

Brown eyes turn even darker at the teasing question. “Of course. Every day, Olivier. Just because you behaved like a temperamental child doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.”

Lion sputters in indignation. “I did not. If anything, you were worse, you broke the fucking vase!”

“Only because you implied the lives of my colleagues are worth less to me than those of civilians.”

“I only did that because you said I care more about rules than I do about humans in general.”

“You also slammed the door and actually stomped your foot. I’m not the immature one here!”

“And yet you sat here and pouted instead of checking up on me despite being worried just because you need to be right -”

“I am right. And now show me your stupid wound!”

“There is no wound, Gustave!”

“We both know you’re lying, come on.”

“Do you really trust me that little?”

“Have you given me enough reason to trust you?”

And that does it. That is it. Lion is seething at this point, all the pent up frustration and worry boiling over as a result of Doc’s consistent nagging, his denial of Lion being right concerning protocols, the silence during the previous weeks and his insistence on being always correct, it’s too much. He snaps.

With one swift motion, he rips his shirt open, presenting his naked torso to his lover, and growls: “Does this look like I’m fucking injured?!”

Doc stills.

And during the brief silence which follows the animalistic gesture, Doc’s eyes are glued to Lion’s chest, sun-tanned and skin smooth with only the faint hint of a scar on his ribs, a mark which will completely fade in months. Around them, torn-off buttons plink and bounce on the floor.

Lion knows what he looks like, knows his lugging around heavy equipment paired with fewer meals and small portions has made his muscles stand out, contoured him flatteringly and harmonises with his slightly bleached auburn hair. He probably smells like sunlight.

Maybe this ended up a little too dramatic.

“You need to fuck me right now”, Doc tells him, tone serious, “we can argue later.”

… or maybe this had just the right kind of flair.

Before he’s even processed the words, Doc’s hands are already pulling on his belt and fuck, getting with the program has never been this seamless. He angrily swats his lover’s hands away to complete the task himself, flinches involuntarily when soft lips latch onto one of his nipples and presses out a groan upon feeling teeth on the sensitive skin. It’s all a little too sudden so he’s only half hard when Doc yanks his trousers down, but watching him sink to his knees without hesitation and lick his way from the base to the tip does wonders to remedy this.

Lion threads his fingers into dark, wavy hair, still reeling from what on earth just happened, is still happening, yet he couldn’t be further from complaining once Doc wraps his glossy lips around the head and flattens his tongue against it. His mouth is hot and wet and Lion feels himself swelling inside the cavern, blood rapidly filling his stiffening shaft while Doc mercilessly sucks him into full hardness. He makes for a beautiful picture like this, more submissive than he usually lets himself be, especially in context, though when he glances up at Lion, there’s still something defiant in his dark gaze.

So that’s how it’s going to be.

His grip tightens and he begins guiding Doc’s movements, pulling him further onto his cock with each bob and causing first a strangled moan and then a warning hum which he disregards entirely. There’s some residual anger still and it bleeds into Lion’s motions, makes them a little rougher than normal. Doc’s tongue is slowly driving him insane with the way its tip seeks out all his most sensitive spots almost out of spite, how it massages the underside, swirls over his slit and curls around the glans, and the sweet pressure of his lover sucking on him only adds to the dizzying mix of stimulation. Not only does it feel mind-blowing, it feels like triumph.

Idly, he debates leaving it at that, interpret this phenomenal blowjob as a concession of defeat from Doc and never bring up their earlier argument again – it would certainly be worth it, Doc always looks so beautiful after he’s swallowed Lion’s come, dazed and proud and like his reading glasses would be askew if he put them on. Doc’s slight resistance might be just for show but Lion relishes it nonetheless, keeps dragging him in while testing out the limits, lets up a little when Doc pinches his thigh after a particularly deep swallow – and then he notices Doc palming himself through his trousers.

He seems to be enjoying this just as much as Lion is.

Inside Doc’s mouth, his cock gives a vicious throb at the sudden surge in desire and earns a helpless moan in return. Lion pictures it briefly, him fucking Doc’s throat while his lover pleasures himself, trapped between focusing on Lion’s dick and his own erection, and his hips involuntarily thrust forward at the mental image. Doc, not expecting it, withdraws while gasping, robs Lion of his delicious wet heat and glares. The hand between his legs, however, is not stopping.

Belatedly, Lion realises this isn’t a submission, if anything it’s an act of war – Doc is taking what he thinks is his, rendering Lion useless in the process. He’s furious but unable to keep his hands off Lion. And if that isn’t the hottest thing he could’ve hoped to encounter today.

“Get up”, he orders hoarsely, throat dry, and doesn’t waste any time undressing his lover as soon as he’s obliged. All his clothes are quickly discarded and tossed somewhere, and with every new bit of skin revealed, Lion’s impatience grows: he wants this man, and he wants him now, wants to show him without a shadow of a doubt how much he desires him… but also make him admit Lion was right.

Doc’s skin is warm under his palms and his tongue slick against Lion’s own. Their making out is almost desperate and not at all befitting a loving reunion after a prolonged absence, but neither of them mind while their lips glide over each other, hands roaming over bodies. Doc moans into his mouth when Lion grabs a handful of his ass, and refuses to break the kiss even as he’s lifted up and set down on the table. His legs wrap around Lion’s hips and he pulls him closer, ankles locked, the gesture possessive but encouraging, and both of them voice their pleasure when their erections rub against each other, Lion’s spit-slicked and Doc’s just as hard now.

“Missed me that much, Gustave?”, he teases in between ravenous kisses and almost loses his balance when Doc’s legs shove him a little in protest.

“Don’t be so smug and get the lube.”

“Why don’t you get it yourself if you want me so much?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

They glare at each other and it’s tough not to allow the challenging expression to melt into an amused smile over Doc’s visible frustration. He’s clinging to Lion still, resistance clearly written in his features – if it was for him, he’s not going to give up any time soon. The realisation of what he’s going to do next makes Lion’s dick jump in anticipation and he turns out to be right: if Lion has leverage over his lover due to how horny he is, he just needs to level the playing field. And so he lightly sinks his teeth into Lion’s shoulder, grabs his cock and drags the nails of his other hand over Lion’s ribs. The faint pain is transformed into roaring want immediately upon Doc lightly jerking him and holy shit, why have they never had angry sex before?

He curses quietly, whispers Doc’s name and earns a sharp nip to his jaw; if he wants to keep up, he needs to act. Blindly, he reaches behind him and fetches the bottle of olive oil from the counter while thrusting into the unforgiving grip. The feeling is divine, almost as good as Doc’s mouth and he hears himself groan in bliss after his lover has spat into his hand and eased the slide considerably, producing a whole other kind of friction. He’s got something better, though.

As soon as his oiled-up fingers curl around Doc’s thick shaft, the Frenchman pauses. Takes a deep breath. And expels it again with a sound akin to a whine when Lion begins stroking him leisurely, thoroughly enjoying the way his lover relaxes into him before being aware of doing so. And once he notices, it’s back to struggling.

They relentlessly exploit each other’s weakspots, Lion sucking a purple bruise onto Doc’s neck, right below his ear, and Doc massaging his balls, nearly causing his knees to give in, fingertips brush over nipples, lips latch onto sensitive patches of skin, and all the while they’re simultaneously pushing each other away and pressing closer. Breath mingling, they’re becoming one already, pawing and kissing and attempting to dominate. They’re both worse for wear by now and so Doc doesn’t even protest when Lion orders him to lie back and spread his legs. Fingers generously coated in olive oil, Lion runs them over his lover’s entrance teasingly before inserting just one.

And oh.

Doc’s cheeks darken when Lion adds a second finger without hesitation, finding his insides pliant and wet already – or rather still.

“Couldn’t even wait until I’m home”, Lion tuts and watches, full of wonder, as Doc swallows even a third digit easily.

“If you hadn’t given me the silent treatment, you might’ve gotten some photos”, the other Frenchman retaliates through his teeth, though his grimace slips a little when Lion strokes over his prostate. Being this familiar with his body pays off more often than not.

“And if you hadn’t given me the silent treatment, I’d have talked you through it.” Lion’s own dick is rearing to go, pulsing impatiently at the sight of Doc’s hole stretching around his fingers, and yet he resists the temptation to enter him and instead goes back to jerking him with his free hand. Doc looks like he’s going to start drooling any second now, his resistance forgotten in favour of grinding against Lion’s hands. “I would’ve told you that you’re doing so good, that you look beautiful, that you can take even more fingers than that. How much I want you. That you should imagine it’s me pushing inside you.”

He’s putty in Lion’s hands now, was shoved over the threshold by overwhelming need and has turned malleable, soft, desperate. Lion has won, and victory has never felt sweeter than right now: the person with whom he hopes to spend the rest of his life all laid out in front of him, blinking up at him dazedly and with so much love obvious in chocolate brown eyes that Lion’s heart threatens to burst for a moment.

“Please”, Doc says quietly. And Lion doesn’t make him say it twice.

Slicking up his own cock already forces a moan out of his throat, so he doesn’t expect to last long – not with how long he’s had to wait for this, not with how tight the ring of muscle was around his three fingers. It doesn’t matter, he’s sure they’ll be having a second round later. Carefully, he lines up the tip and pushes in with minimal resistance, both of them moaning when the head slips inside, and once he’s fully bottomed out, he takes a moment to revel in familiar feeling of Doc clenching down on him. Oh, how he missed this. How he missed the disbelief written all over Doc’s face when Lion rolls his hips and brushes over his sweet spot, how he missed the filthy sounds they’re producing together, how he missed the feeling of another body against his own.

Once he slams inside the first time, Doc is already incoherent and the half-syllables he manages only convince Lion to not let up, increase force and speed and intensity to make him forget his own name, to make him forget he ever belonged to anyone else. His lover’s crotch is an oily mess but it’s just perfect for him, allowing him to wank him hard and fast, rapidly building pleasure in time with his thrusts – Doc doesn’t suspect anything yet, thighs trembling already from how deep Lion invades him with every motion, from how calloused fingers run over sensitive flesh. He must think Lion impatient or close to the edge but couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s only just started.

When he ceases his ministrations just as Doc’s abs begin to flutter, giving away his impending orgasm, he expects his lover to react with indignation, possibly take matters into his own hands or at the very least glare at him, but when his eyes open, they’re so full of devotion and acceptance that Lion is momentarily floored. Instead of fighting him, Doc tightens his legs and drags him in, turns the hard thrusts rocking his body even more brutal and unforgiving despite panting already, despite squirming away from the overpowering pleasure. He doesn’t protest when Lion massages his dick once more, struggles to hold it with how fiercely it’s twitching, and even when he stops again due to Doc’s mewling nearly reaching peak volume, the man in front of him tolerates the torture.

Lion keeps up the merciless rhythm of his hips, fucks his way towards a well-deserved climax and marvels at the beauty laid out just for him, but it bothers him how… accommodating Doc has become even though he’s nothing if not stubborn. And yet he rewards Lion’s movements with loving gazes, contracts around his shaft to increase the sweet, sweet pressure, and lets endless, blissful noises drop from his lips. Lion can feel Doc’s toes flexing against his back, so he must be hitting just the right spot and he’s so caught up in his own lust, so focused on the erotic sensation of driving into the person he loves, of making both of them feel good, that it takes him embarrassingly long to understand.

He leaves Doc hanging on the edge again and explores his shapely chest with a slick hand, leaving glistening trails on darker skin, but it clicks when his palm travels all the way up, barely brushing against Doc’s throat. Because he tilts his head back, willingly exposing the vulnerable body part. And Lion gets it.

It doesn’t matter that they disagree on certain topics, their views are unlikely to change and so neither of them will budge, but what does matter is that they love each other regardless. That they accept each other the way they are, and even if they might be angry, their passion and commitment remains untouched. This is why Doc is handing himself over so willingly: his trust is unshaken.

And Lion interrupts his motions to lean down and kiss him, channel all the love and faith and desire he feels for this man into the gesture while burying both hands in Doc’s hair, cradling his face. The smile he feels against his mouth tells him that Doc understands, and when Lion starts grinding against him a few seconds later, both of them gasp.

“I missed you so much”, Lion mutters against parted lips and now everything is pouring out of him. “Fuck, I thought of you every free second. You feel so good, Gustave, you have no idea how good you feel. You’re amazing. I love you so much.”

Doc moves against him, eyes open as he clings to the taller man like his life depended on it. “I love you too, Olivier. And you’re so deep -”

“I even dreamt of you. I still can’t believe this is real, sometimes. You look so fucking hot right now, I want to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

This earns him the very first genuine, absolutely brilliant smile ever since he came back. Doc licks his mouth open and plays with his tongue until they’re both breathless and gasping before whispering: “Do it.”

So Lion does.

He pulls out, half drags Doc off the table and turns him around so his feet are (already unsteadily) on the floor, torso resting on the wooden surface with Lion behind him, and slams home in one fluid motion. From there, it’s a veritable mess, a maelstrom of sensation and want, a barrage of stimulation muddling Lion’s perception entirely. He’s vaguely aware of waves of divine pleasure rushing through his entire body with each thrust, notices Doc looking back at him pleadingly over his shoulder, incredulity lining his features and increasing with every strangled sound. It’s pure heaven, skin slapping sharply on skin, his cock rubbing over Doc’s prostate with every thrust, causing him to whimper and writhe and his legs to almost give in, and all the while he insistently drags Doc’s hips to meet him so he can reach as deeply inside as possible.

The fast tempo wrecks them both, sweat is starting to bead up on Doc’s back and Lion’s forehead, both of them completely lost in their own pleasure, in each other, in the feeling connecting them – and when Lion reaches around to jerk Doc in the same unrelenting rhythm as his motions, another hand closes over his own, squeezes it more tightly and demonstrates just how Doc likes it right now. Knowing how much he enjoys the deep and thorough penetration only serves to cloud Lion’s thoughts further and, in contrast, sharply brings his own desire into focus, steadily building up with every time he invades his lover so intimately until he can’t take it anymore.

When he comes, he folds in half and moans unselfconsciously into Doc’s hair, loud groans wrenched from him with every delicious wave of pleasure rolling through him. The relief is immeasurable, rushes through his veins like liquid electricity and has him shuddering violently in time with his small thrusts accompanying the contractions in his lower muscles. He’s barely aware of Doc’s hand speeding up in desperation but suddenly becomes keenly aware of his lover climaxing below him due to the hard clenching around him all of a sudden, the spasms milking him even further and his own moans mixing with Doc’s. They both shiver, prolong each other’s orgasm with minuscule movements and only come down slowly from their intense high, aftershocks making their muscles twitch and cocks throb.

Doc lets out a content sigh which Lion mirrors, but when he pushes against the larger body draped over him, Lion refuses to budge. He’s still coasting on the elating feeling of loving and being loved, of sharing intimacy, and if he doesn’t say it now, he never will.

Lips brushing over warm skin, he murmurs: “I’m sorry. I… rules help me do the right thing and I’m afraid of acting without them. I’ll try to think for myself more instead of blindly relying on general instructions which might not fit the situation exactly.”

His lover huffs a quiet laugh and catches one of his hands in his own, interlaces their fingers to show him he appreciates the apology. “I’m sorry too. I let my feelings interfere with my work which can be dangerous. I’ll try to take a step back and assess situations more objectively.”

It’s such a relief to hear these words that Lion nearly tears up at the realisation that he’s forgiven, that he made a concession only to be graced with one in return, that they’re equals after all, both human and thus flawed in their own way. They’re both wrong if the result is them not speaking to each other, and the insecurity of what their fight might mean for their relationship melts away, leaving behind nothing more than a fuzzy feeling.

This time, when Doc moves, Lion withdraws gingerly and stands up straight, pulling the other man into a tight embrace once he’s turned around. They kiss slowly and sweetly, both of them smiling into it since they can’t help it and when he playfully peppers the side of Doc’s neck in kisses, his lover reacts with a chuckle.

“That was awful”, Doc tells him matter-of-factly. “Let’s never do that again.”

And though Lion has to agree that the past two weeks rank among the worst of his life, he can’t help but clarify: “You don’t mean the angry sex though, right? You looked so incredibly hot, blowing me while furious.”

Doc snorts, visibly embarrassed, and shakes his head slightly. “If you liked that, I… guess we can have a repeat performance. Just without all the nonsense before it.”

“Yeah. I agree.” Lion takes the opportunity to eye up his boyfriend, take in his messy hair, the shimmery smears all over his body, the absolute mess between his legs – and it looks like he did drool on the table after all. “You look like you need a shower.”

The grin spreading on Doc’s face is almost mischievous and has Lion falling for him all over again, not that he’s letting it show just how smitten he really is. “And I do hope you’re going to accompany me, mon amour?”

How could he say no to that? “We have a lot of catching up to do”, he agrees and drops his gaze to see some of his semen running down Doc’s thigh.

Maybe he’ll end up having to shower three times today.

#rainbow six siege #doc #lion #doc/lion #fanfic #commissions #angry doc is my spirit animal #he told his colleague to ask lion about his relationship status #just to hear about how awkwardly he replied #these two are so stubborn

[popatochisssp]

Hi, I love all your headcannons about the boys in a relationship. But they got me wondering, since no relationship is totally perfect, what might be some negative traits the boys have, things they do, or just behaviors in general that could put a strain on the relationship or might need to be talked out to continue?

Oh, I’m glad you asked because you’re right, they’re not perfect at all! There’s lots of habits and quirks they all have, but that’s too subjective– a habit that might bug one person could be totally fine by another!– so we’ll go with our boys’ biggest flaws in a relationship! >:3

*Especially important for the ‘fell and horror universe boys, I’ll be taking a ‘fresh out of the Underground’ lens on this, not accounting for any potential Surface growth or therapy that could take place and ameliorate some of these things!*

Sans (Undertale): He is lazy. So, so lazy. Surely, this isn’t much of a surprise to anyone, but you can imagine how it could be an annoying trait in your partner– he’s never going to do a chore or go out of his way to take care of something for you, and he’s an all-around pro at ducking responsibility. It also means that if he doesn’t already care about something, trying to spark an investment from him is…kinda impossibly unlikely, which can definitely be frustrating for his s/o!

Papyrus (Undertale): It’s not intentional, but he has a tendency to be pushy. He’s enthusiastic and has some pretty firm convictions and so sometimes, entirely without meaning to, he’ll steamroll right over his s/o and what they might want. It can hurt his s/o’s feelings to be talked over and spoken for before they can put their two cents in, but it just doesn’t always occur to him that people might have perspectives different than his own. His s/o has to be able to assert themselves when they really don’t want to do something and aren’t just being playfully shy or stubborn about it, or they might end up peer-pressured into stuff a lot.

Sky (Underswap Sans): Do you like your personal space? Want some significant amounts of time by yourself? Then you’re going to struggle if you’re Sky’s s/o because he can get very clingy. It comes from a good place, he’s a very social guy and if his s/o is his favorite person, then of course their company is going to be his favorite, too! He wants to spend a ton of time with them, whether they’re doing something together or not, and he’s hard to shake with off-the-cuff excuses about why his s/o can’t hang out with him: he’ll know they’re lying and think that something might be wrong and then he’s definitely not going anywhere. If his s/o can’t figure out how to tell him, on a regular basis and without hurting his feelings, that they need space from him to decompress, they’re going to end up exhausted.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): He’s stubborn. It’s rare for him to make firm judgments on something one way or the other, but once he has, that’s pretty much it. He’ll really dig his heels in if his s/o tries to change his mind, too, and it takes a long time and a lot of arguing about whatever it is to even get him to consider changing his opinion. For his s/o, it probably feels like they’re banging their head against a brick wall, like he’s not even listening to what they’re saying and they can very easily end up feeling disrespected by this immovable object of a skeleton.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): He’s too closed off. It’s self-protective–he’d be a shaking, emotional wreck after the Underground if he’d let just anybody in close enough to see him vulnerable and open himself up to getting hurt–but it can turn around and be a very painful, hurtful thing for his s/o to deal with. When he’s going through something, his first instinct is always to hide it until it blows over so his s/o never even knows he was struggling. They’ll undoubtedly catch hints from time to time that maybe Jasper needs support, but he always hesitates to let them in, and they can’t do anything as long as they’re stuck on the outside of his emotional walls. It’s a very bad feeling thinking your loved one doesn’t trust you enough to let you help and he’ll need a lot of time and love and trust to make even a little progress at this.

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Another one that shouldn’t be surprising, but he’s arrogant. He has a pretty big ego and he never easily accepts it when he may have been wrong, blustering and convoluting until it seems like he was right all along– the equivalent of a cat falling off a counter and acting like they meant to do it. He may also condescend a lot to his s/o and fall into an Underground-developed habit of treating them as an underling or an accessory more than a loved one. It’s instinctive and would probably have kept them safe from opportunist monsters if they were back down there, but on the Surface it can get incredibly tiring and even hurtful for his s/o to cater to that kind of ego all the time. If he catches their patience running out and he sees them rolling their eyes or making a snarky comment in exasperation at his narcissism, well, he’s probably going to get upset about it and the two of them will have a fight. He has a lot of acclimating to do to this relatively peaceful world where relationships can be equal without also being a weakness.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): This guy’s the definition of ‘trust issues.’ He can be downright problematically invasive and probing about…pretty much everything, if given a reason to be. It’s not an s/o-specific thing, he’s like that with everybody, but his s/o will probably (and absolutely should) take issue with how little respect he has for privacy. It’s his lingering paranoia from the Underground keeping him constantly alert for backstabbers and betrayers, so if someone as close to him as his partner starts acting secretive around him, he has to investigate. It may be innocent, like a surprise party for his birthday or something, but until he finds out what’s up, there isn’t much that’s off the table: he’ll cyberstalk social media for information, discreetly follow them in real life if they go out unexpectedly, and if they leave their phone with him unattended and unlocked, he’s definitely skimming through some recent messages, just to be sure. He’s not a bad person, he just has some very bad (survival-based) habits. The only saving grace is that his s/o probably won’t find out he sometimes does this stuff because he’s careful, but that doesn’t make it cool and he won’t really stop until he truly, fully trusts his s/o–and that’s a long time coming after everything he’s been through.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): Rus cannot have an argument to save his life. He’s not what you’d call a pacifist, not entirely accurately at least– he’s been in his fair share of fights Underground, after all, and he’d fight again if his life was on the line– but he doesn’t like conflict or anything resembling it. It sounds like a good thing on paper because his s/o automatically wins any disagreement that looks like it could turn into a fight, but it’s so terrible in practice for maintaining a healthy relationship. He’ll go along with anything his s/o wants to avoid the conflict, even if it might make him unhappy because he doesn’t want them to be upset at him. It’s also at least 90% conciliatory and if it was about a behavior of his, there’s a very high chance that nothing will actually change, but he’ll nod and agree and promise to do things differently just to keep the argument from happening and then…not, actually. The idea of a constructive or helpful argument is entirely foreign to him, those didn’t exist where he came from and he just wants things to be cool, he’ll say whatever he’s gotta say to make it be cool. His s/o can build up a lot of frustration and unhappiness from that if they can’t convince him to learn some better communication strategies.

Slate (Horrortale Sans): Obviously, it’s not his fault, but he’s forgetful. He generally remembers the big stuff and he does better when something feels important as it’s happening, but as a rule his level of recall is hit or miss. He’s bad at remembering birthdays and other important dates and if he forgets to write a reminder to himself about it, he’s just not going to be there for whatever his s/o needed. It can be hard for an s/o who isn’t prepared to take on so much of the mental load in a relationship without much guarantee of help, especially because they can’t get mad at him for it, not in good conscience, anyway– he didn’t ask for the giant hole in his skull, he’d love a reliable memory as much as they would! He’ll do his best to retain as much as he can, but even with notes and reminders, a lot of things his s/o tells him just get lost to the void and that’s a hard thing to be okay with right away.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): He’s…maybe a tad too flippant about things. It’s a defense mechanism he developed Underground, a sort of gallows humor that he relied on to keep his generally upbeat attitude when monsters had to resort to eating humans and each other to stay alive, and even that wasn’t sustainable and there was a very real possibility that his entire species could go extinct in a matter of years, if not months. It was dark times and he couldn’t let himself get invested in every little thing! …but it’s also probably a little disturbing for his s/o when he, say, breaks a bone and only uses a silly, made-up curse word like, “Oh, Sugarbeans, That’s Inconvenient, Isn’t It!” or they hear the extreme, casual frankness he’ll use to discuss even graphic gore and violence like it doesn’t faze him. It’s a little sociopathic, honestly, and his s/o will probably have a lot of moments where they just don’t know how they’re supposed to respond when they see this unnervingly light attitude in their otherwise loving, gentle partner.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand now I feel a little guilty for all this trash-talking of my boys, so expect another headcanon post soon-ish, pro bono– just like this one, but about their virtues in a relationship instead of just their vices.

They are good boys who would be delightful partners in spite of these pitfalls, I promise! XD

#anonymous #headcanons #sans/reader #papyrus/reader #undertale #sans #papyrus #underswap #us!sans #us!papyrus #underfell #uf!sans #uf!papyrus #swapfell/fellswap #sf!sans #sf!papyrus #horrortale #ht!sans #ht!papyrus

[jaceythejester]

Kamilah x MC x Priya Fan Fiction: Bloodbound The Way of The World

Pairing: Kamilah x MC x Priya. Poly.

Cast: The whole cast (as of Book 1 chapter 11) are featured.

Synopsis: Diana falls in love with Kamilah and Priya while trying to save the Clanless who are left to die by the other vampires.

Author’s note: Please separate the artist from the work. You wouldn’t ask an actor who plays a serial killer if he kills people in real life. Like people, each character has different facets to them. In this story, no one is entirely from the light side and no one is entirely from the dark side. That’s all I can say without spoilers.

About author: f / http://youtube.com/JaceytheJester Check out Becca x MC: Two Sides of The Same Coin (ongoing) on http://wattpad.com/JaceytheJester

Rating: 15+

Prologue word count: 2,663

Chapter I: TBD

Chapter I word count: A bit over 10k. I might not reply any asks until chapter I is posted.

BLOODBOUND: THE WAY OF THE WORLD PROLOGUE

  If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere, Diana remembered. That’s what they say about New York. Lily had told Diana that the people she met in New York would help her realize her dreams. Diana didn’t know how but she wanted to believe so.

  The life in this concrete jungle, where tall buildings rise so high they seem to pierce the sky, may not be for everyone. Here, people talk fast, walk fast and do everything fast. Nobody has time. Everyone who isn’t rich or won’t have a large inheritance from their family anytime soon, has to work to live or live to work to keep themselves in New York City; the capital of the world and the centre of business and finance. Only the best of the best are here. You either go hard or you go somewhere else.

  It was already four in the morning. Diana just finished brushing her long blond hair when she realised she couldn’t sleep in the luxurious and secure suite inside Raines Corp Tower. She set her large green eyes on the writing desk at the opposite site of the bed and thought she should write something down in her deep red leather bound journal which she just bought last week to make sure she wouldn’t forget anything or any details about the serious situations in her new life.

  Being the classic case from a small town, Diana decided to leave for New York after her college graduation. People didn’t see her off. They just said things that were anything but supportive. Do you really think you can make it? How are you gonna do that? What if you fail? Diana remembered those words well. It made it easier for her to pack her things and catch a flight to New York. Some people from this young city craft their own way and become a part of history in this world. Diana wanted to make people see that there was something special about her. Most importantly, she wanted to be free from family values that branded certain things forbidden for women but not for men.

  In this sleepless city, bright neon lights and the big, high definition digital screens make night more beautiful than day. Diana found that she really preferred dusk to dawn which was a good thing. Night had become Diana’s regular time of work merely a week ago after she became a personal assistant of a vampire CEO, Adrian Raines, the owner of Raines Corp; one of the leading companies in technology industry in the world.

  One of the very important things anyone should know about vampire race was that not all of them were gorgeous and glamorous like they were made when featured in vampire films and fictions. In reality, there were all kinds of them. Some were utterly ugly and murderous. Some were incredibly kind and universally beautiful. Diana had met the former and she was very lucky to still be alive. She made a bunch of blood thirsty vampires her enemies after all.

  Fortunately, the vampires around her were people she could trust. Adrian might look like a man in his mid twenties but in fact, he was around three hundred years old and he wanted to be the force of greater good in the world.

  Kamilah Sayeed, the perfect beauty and the Egyptian vampire queen was the CEO of Ahmanet Financials, one of the most successful companies in financial industry on earth. Kamilah was royal by birth and reserved by choice. Even though she was two thousand and sixty three years old, her appearance was that of a woman in her late twenties. She would never grow old or deform. Her beauty was eternal like the universe itself.

  After Lily Spencer, Diana’s roommate and best friend was attacked and was on the verge of dying, Diana begged Adrian to save her. The only way was to turn Lily into a vampire. Adrian did and Kamilah was furious at both Diana and Adrian. The action could jeopardise him and his whole clan. But what else was I supposed to do? Watching my best friend die? Diana thought. Kamilah threatened to kill Diana as a result but Diana wasn’t really afraid. She thought it was just something close to what a protective sibling sometimes say to their sister’s boyfriend; If you break her heart, I’ll break your neck.

  Not only Kamilah was there the whole time during Lily’s turning process, she offered to teach and train Lily herself. Kamilah told Diana about Lysimachus, her twin brother who sacrificed himself for a good cause when the Egyptians were attacked by the Romans in 35 BC. That was five years before Cleopatra who was Kamilah’s cousin, passed away. Diana was convinced that Adrian reminded Kamilah a lot about her brother. Adrian and Lysimachus had a lot in common. It was plain to see why Kamilah was fiercely protective towards Adrian. The fact that Kamilah remembered precisely that they met two hundred and thirty four years ago said it all.

  During her years as a human, Kamilah served as a nomarch. A governor of some sort and a title very rarely earned by a woman. Diana didn’t expect any less from a cousin of Cleopatra specifically when the last Queen of Egypt was known to be strong and fiery too.

  A lot of things about Kamilah remained to be discovered. All Diana knew was that there was no one else Adrian trusted more than Kamilah.

  Diana glanced at Lily who was lying on her stomach on their bed and was probably asleep. Lily was one day old in her vampire age and so it was her time to get some rest. When Diana was certain that her friend would not bother her, she got her journal out of a drawer and set it on the desk. She casually flipped through the pages without so much as glancing at what she had written. There were things she had already remembered by heart.

  According to Adrian, there were one hundred and eighty vampires in New York City and six of them were the most powerful ones who had seats on The Council of New York vampires. These were also the leaders of other twenty nine members of their own clans. Each clan ruled in six different sectors. Kamilah in finance and Adrian in technology.

  The Baron was a short, chubby man in his late sixties. He was a criminal before and after he became a vampire. A nightmare that no one ever wanted to come true. He was a gangster in 1920s, he still dressed like one and he was a gang leader today too and he probably would be until the end of time. Diana believed that if having been turned into a vampire couldn’t change a man then nothing else would. He reigned ruthlessly in organised crime.

  Lester Castellanos who was neither tall nor nice must have been in his late fifties when he was turned. Lester had thick, untrimmed facial beard and thick greyish hair and a lot of worry lines on his face which definitely didn’t have any bad affects on him in commerce. After he caressed Diana’s arm in front of Adrian and Kamilah simply because he wanted to, Diana quickly went to the bathroom and washed her hands and arms twice. Then she remembered that she slapped his face and she washed her hands again for the third time. This was a kind of man who would make everyone of every sexuality run. Out of disgust, not fears.

  Adam Vega was a tall, broad shouldered Spanish man with the kind of magnificent jawlines that handsome Hollywood actors have. He looked like a man in his forties. His thick dark hair and his thick eyebrows only added up to his charisma. But Diana learnt that at the end of the day, Vega was still a politician who only cared about himself and his own gain. Like the colonial Spanish nobleman that he used to be. Adrian had to pay a generous amount of money to him in exchange for his vote so Lily could be a new member of Clan Raines.

  Despite the fact that Lily was no longer a human being, she still had feelings and she had every right to live as much as anybody else on earth. Yet Vega didn’t care. Lily is now one of his own kind but she is not one of his own clan. Like human society, the discrimination among vampire race existed. Diana couldn’t help but think about Jax and his people. Clanless and rejected. Excluded and soon to be executed. It was Vega’s idea to wipe them out once and for all. She wished she could do something for them. If only she could change Vega’s mind. But he was a kind of man who would not do anything for anyone unless he would receive an irresistible offer in return.

  That is politics, she remembered what Adrian had said to her. Now Diana wondered why anyone should trust and give power to politicians to run their cities and countries when all they cared about was themselves and their benefits. It took Diana a few minutes to shake the thought of Vega out of her head.

  And at last but not least, Priya Lacroix, a famous fashion designer who was gorgeous enough to be a model herself. Despite being the youngest clan leader among them, Priya was confident and comfortable leading Clan Lacroix and having a seat on The Council. On top of that, for the past years Priya thrived in fashion industry. It is one the most fast-paced careers of all time. Anyone who has money can own their own studio in New York but only those who are truly talented get to keep theirs. Priya was one of them. Not to mention, her studio was one of the most popular scenes in the city. Diana had met Priya only once and she found her to be extraordinarily exquisite. Her pair of playful brown eyes and and her full, sensual lips just suited her personality so well. One could never tell that Priya was slightly over one hundred and fifty years old when she looked and acted so naturally like a woman in her mid twenties.

   Then there were the Clanless whom Diana decided to never write anything about in her journal for her and their safety. In case Diana and Adrian failed to get a vote from Priya to keep Lily alive, at least Lily would still have Jax Matsuo and the Clanless to rely on. Diana was convinced that they would never turn her away.

   Another thing that Diana had never mentioned to anyone, not even to Lily, her best friend was her newfound clairvoyant abilities that enabled her to see visions. Fragments of Kamilah’s and Adrian’s past. There was always another man with them. He was called Gaius Augustine. Yet neither Kamilah nor Adrian had ever said his name. As far as she understood, Gaius was ancient and dangerous. She knew this because Kamilah and Adrian were different people when they were with him in the distant past.

   Diana wondered what it meant to have the power that she had but she didn’t mind it at all. It made her feel empowered as though she was some sort of ‘the chosen one’ like those cool characters in fictions and films. She simply hoped that she wouldn’t need saving like a damsel in distress among the vampire race.

   Diana craned her neck to Lily’s direction to make sure that she was still asleep before she started to write on her journal with her casual cursive handwritings that were feminine and rather tidy.

   I am in New York. Is this the right place for me? Even when I’m right here right now, I still have doubts in my mind. Is this really where I belong?

   I feel bad for Adrian. I feel bad for putting him in this awkward situation but there was no other choice to save Lily. I’m thankful for his selfless action. I think he likes me and I have nothing but friendship to offer. He’s a great guy but I just keep thinking about Priya and how perfect she was when I first met her in person. I’d like to meet her again though I’m not sure what I expect. 

   I want to know how she thinks about me or if she thinks about me at all after our first meeting. I want to know what she’s doing right now. When Adrian told me that we’d need Priya’s vote to save Lily, I was glad that it was her. I definitely don’t want to owe Lester or ask him for anything. Baron is cold blooded. He probably smiles when he kills someone. I think Priya will help us. Even though I don’t know her that much, I have a feeling she’ll understand.

   When she was done, she put her journal back in a drawer, charged her phone and left it on the desk. Then she silently slipped into bed beside Lily and was ready for sleep to take her. She didn’t see a text message from Adrian which said that something urgent came up and so Diana would have to accompany someone else to meet Priya instead. Someone he trusted with his life.

#Kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #priya lacroix #priya x mc #bloodbound #playchoices #choices fan fiction #fan fiction #bloodbound fan fiction #jacey the jester

[leaf-writes]

Inside Eoberona

An Adventure in Blogging

Rating: G

Word Count: 1524

Summary: Fourteen-year-old Meli Malviya gets inspired to start blogging 

Trigger Warnings: very slight reference to abuse

Authors Note: I would just like to say that I have had this universe since 2014 and I am finally sharing it with the world! This is taking place in a fantasy/utopia/futuristic magic world thing so somethings might be a little different (i.e. social media/networks)

An Adventure in Blogging

Meli Malviya

8/4/PW14

            As the first term closes, students tend to rush to get the social media handles of their new friends if they have yet done so, as an attempt to keep up to date with one’s latest selfie or holiday overseas. The act of online stalking is not isolated to these adolescent individuals; plenty of adults partake in this strange and slightly intrusive practice. For that reason, I, Meli Malviya, have been requested by the masses to create a blog in which can be used to stalk and intrude into the lives of your heroes and government officials. The excitement of being potentially disowned and left to die delights me very much so. This —as one might insist of calling it— blog will consist of weekly posts and myself not talking like this at all, holy hell.

2/4/PW14

            Two days before school ends in the Malviya household is slightly crazy. As many know, my mother and I live right above my mother’s store, Satya’s Boutique. Around this time of year, we have many people come to get last minute altercations on some weird end of term party, to purchase some clothes for a holiday to who knows where along with regular shoppers. Luckily my mum is stinking rich and brought the biggest store she could find. As well as a whole mess, my dear friend Edvard Garcia turned 30 today. He’s freaking old. For those of you who do not know this guy, let me give y’all a mini, mini, mini-biography.

            Eddy boi is a Swedish mess who at the age of 16 was forced to drown his sister, Aurora Hansdotter (Y'all know her right? She’s bloody amazing) for some BS reason. No one knew that he had taken special precautions to save her life which comes into play two years later when he came here. What apparently happened was that his insane mother found out and tried to kill him too. She is insane I know, I guess that this is what happens when your husband died of smallpox when you had a two and four-year-old to look after in 17th century Sweden. For little under a year, everyone absolutely hated him, and that’s an understatement. Everyone except Eliza and Warda was giving him the silent treatment. This poor boy couldn’t even speak English, he had to have a translator hired because Aurora didn’t want to help him.

            Anyway, some dude named Charon Garcia heard some other dude crying. Being the blind dude he is, Charon went over to them with his adorable guide dog, Cerberus, and basically was like, “You Gucci mate?” Except he didn’t say that exactly. Since he’s so blind that even bats are shook, he did not know that this was eddy the shreddy. If he had this prior knowledge, he would not have approached him. After some conversation, explaining, more explaining to everyone this time, and the rest of the school year, Charon finally managed to propose to Edvard at the ripe old age of eighteen. They got married two years later and then four years went by the had a girl called angel and two years later they had another girl called Thalia.

            So, all last week my mum and I had been trying to find something totally amazing for Ed. I suggested some unsavory things and my mum hit me on the head. We eventually agreed on this rare Swedish book that he liked so much that somehow managed to come in time. But this wasn’t the only Swedish surprise.

            After school, we were gonna have this party thing at Aurora and Maeraka (genie of battle)’s house. So, at the end of the day, I rounded up Angel, Thalia, Filip, and Ana (Aurora and Maeraka’s kids) and caught the train to the house. When we got there everyone else (all the Garcia’s, the Baatjies, the royal family, Rachel Wilder and Giselle Blanchard) were there. The kids and I got changed out of our uniforms into more casual clothes and when we came back, Aurora left to go get something with Rose.

            They came back sometime later and holy macaroni, what they came back with left me shooketh. So turns out that somehow Rose was able to resurrect bloody Hans Noahsson. His faTHER I SWEAR TO GOD WHY CAN’T SHE DO THAT FOR ME HOLY CHICKEN FINGERS.

            As unreal as the scenario was, who of us really surprised? He can only speak Swedish so that should be fun, but he’s going to stay with Aurora and Maeraka because their house is huge, and Edvard’s is smaller than my will to live.

              There were too many tears and Hans is so sweet even if I couldn’t understand a word he said.

3/4/PW14

            This was the unofficial last day of school, and by that, I mean last day of classes. So many of you were asking me about the blog but this is a weekly thing, guys! And its more of a weekly diary I guess.

            Anyway, the only thing that happened today was Hans, Rory (Aurora), Filip and Ana coming to mum’s boutique and getting old Hans some clothing that isn’t waistcoats and clogs (having the latter kill my mother every time she needs to make some for either Eddy or Rory because they need some traditional Swedish outfits).

            Fun Fact: my mum speaks Swedish. I never knew that, but if you want to speak Swedish to Satya Malviya, don’t tell her I told you.

4/4/PW14

Wowzers. That’s an awful lot of fours.

             Children and teens alike were jumping for joy for the last day of school. Assemblies were held, people were bored, lockers were emptied, and Señora Octavia Garcia silently cried as she still had to spend time with her least favourite student (me), even though holidays were here. There’s no escape.

             After school, Octavia decided to take me, Filip, Ana, Angel, Thalia, Roxane + Laurent (Giselle’s kiddos), Hasna (Daughter of Fan, genie of the arts, and Fawdaa, genie of chaos) and Katherine to this pancake place (which you would see if you followed me on Echo’d you would already know this…) and it was actually pretty good.

             One last thing: Rory and King Sandu were having a handstand contest when I came to the castle today,,,, I don’t know why,,,

5/4/PW14

            With the first day of holidays came everybody’s least favourite celebration, my birthday! I know nobody actually cares, but hear me out because this is an experience.

            So, most of my friends are adults or midgets. Only like 3% of my friends are actually my age. Because of this, I do two things. One, I have a party (bowling or whatever) with my school friends, and then I hang out at the castle filming Jadine Baatjies try to summon spirits drunk.

            So here I am, in the rec room at the castle, same stuff as usual; Giselle is drinking wine straight from the bottle and staying completely sober, Lizzy and Dontae are doing paperwork, Rachel and Lola are trying to re-enact The Greatest Showman, Warda is trying to bring Sandu up to date with everything that he has missed (because he was kidnapped for like 27 years, remember?), Edvard and Aurora are trying to teach Hans English and the kids are being weird.

            Anyway, so I look over the room and Jadine is having a drinking contest with the Garcia twins and I’m confused? Because at the same time Jadine, Rose, and Octavia are trying to compete with statistics about how many dead people they have been able to “rise” and my mum is trying to keep the kids away from sharp objects and this is the funniest thing I have ever seen.

6/4/PW14

            Jadine kept messaging me about her hangover and Edvard just sent over a group chat that Charon in just lying head down in bed and apparently when Lizzy was trying to wake up Scylla she was in a similar position,,,

7/4/PW14

             I went over to Rory’s place for practice and if any of you guys swim then you’d know about the appetite that you build up afterwards is very large, of which mine was when I went inside after what felt like a million years of singing and swimming. To my delight and surprise, one Hans Noahsson had cooked a traditional Swedish meal (I forgot what it’s called) and it was really hecking good so that’s how my day went.

8/4/PW14

             Today was the music festival so that means me being forced to sing for like 10 hours around the entire. bloody. Country. So, I hoped y’all enjoyed that and on behalf of the Sirens of Eoberona and The Amjir Committee of Music, I would like to thank everybody for participating and that the money raised from various performances will be going towards helping rebuild Amjir’s temple after the incident.

             As I write this entire blog entry at 9:48pm, I would like to hope that everyone enjoys this, and this is what everyone meant. Next week will be something unexpected and I am very excited and y’all will be getting more than what you bargained for!

     ~Meli Malviya

#leaf’s writing #Inside Eoberona #do not repost #I want to turn this into like a reader interactive thing #like yall can ask questions that can be answered in a special editon #and you can make headcanons #and i can tell you if its real or not #writers on tumblr #my writing #first person #fictional blog #fantasy #fiction #findthewriters #slight mention of abuse

[metafinnwinchester]

Task 12: Muse Booster

Name: Finnegan “Finn” Winchester

Height: 5′8″

Age in Story: 24

Birthplace: Santa Monica, California

Hair (color, length, style): Finn’s hair is naturally dark brunet with a subtly wavy texture (most of the time he straightens it), but he’s been dying it blond since he was around fifteen. Depending on how far he lets it grow, it can be full blond and shaggy more often spiked up (x), or if he gets it trimmed, it looks neater with more of his natural color showing styled in either a quiff or left flat and swept over his forehead (x) (x). Currently, he’s letting the blond grow out, so his hair color looks like this (x), with the blond slowly fading in his hair.

Race/Nationality: White; American with Irish ethnicity

Regional Influences: Ireland, California

Accent (voice, style of speech, slang, signature words/phrases): Finn has an American accent, some would say he sounds “straight up Californian.” When he gets angry or frustrated, a little bit of an Irish accent picked up from his parents will slip into his voice. Since he grew up with Irish parents, he does on occasion drop some Irish words (he’s been most known to use “hussy” or other insults). He has a way of spewing out random words and phrases he makes up on the fly when talking, but can never remember them. His most popular signature word he’s sticking with is “bitchachos.” Voice clip here.

Religion: Catholic (even if he’s been bad with practicing the last few years)

Marital Status: Engaged to Daniel Bates

Scars/Other Notable Physical Attributes: He has a few freckles on his cheeks, neck, and shoulders. His back is littered with near-faded, red scarred lines from whippings at C.A.R.M.A. He also has a few other scars from fights and bullet wounds.

Handicaps (physical, emotional, mental): PTSD, anxiety, depression, ADHD, some anger issues. Due to C.A.R.M.A erasing some of his memories at one point, and those lost memories being retrieved by telepathic interference from his sister, Finn also has some very minor memory problems. He’s a functional alcoholic, and sometimes his knees get really sore and stiff after too much acrobatic and agility fighting. 

Athletic? Inactive? Overall health?: Very athletic. Going around as Phantom almost every night and fighting bad guys along with regular training helps keep him in shape. He’s in pretty good health despite his frequent drinking.

Style of Dress: Finn is almost always dressed nice, yet casual, with skinny jeans (either blue or black) with either a simple black or white t-shirt, a casual collared shirt (usually with sleeves rolled up) or a t-shirt with a flannel or plain over-shirt. For shoes, he usually wears vans, converse, or boots. Sometimes he’ll wear his glasses.

Favorite Colors: Blue, teal, black, and silver

How does character feel about appearance? He thinks he’s attractive and likes how he looks, although he sometimes does get slightly insecure when it comes to the scars on his back.

Any siblings?: Aislinn Winchester (younger twin sister), and Axel Winchester (younger brother).

Relationship with parents?: His relationship with his parents is fairly normal, and they get along. There was a brief period of time where he and his dad had some tension after he came out, but that was resolved (with some help from Caitlin), and they’re all on speaking terms. Dylan being in C.A.R.M.A has caused the two of them to talk less for obvious reasons, but he still considers himself close to his dad. He respects and looks up to his dad, and he loves his mother a lot and would do anything for her.

Memories about childhood?: He mostly remembers the good times where he and his siblings would terrorize each other (with love of course) and then laugh about it all later after their mom or dad would tell them to knock it off. He also remembers a lot of trips to Ireland to visit the grandparents, and how much he loved those vacations.

Educational background? (Street smart? Book smart?): He attended Stanford University with a focus in Music and Business. Unfortunately, he only made it halfway through junior year before he was arrested by C.A.R.M.A, so he has not earned his degree...yet. Even though most people don’t think so, he’s actually quite book smart, but his street smarts tend to overpower that.

Work Experience: C.A.R.M.A Meta Agent, and vigilante hero Phantom. Not the best things to put on a resume.

Where does the character live now? Describe home. (Emotional atmosphere & physical): Finn lives in a duplex apartment in West Stone with his fiancé Daniel Bates and their three dogs. The home is rather extravagant, spacious, and luxurious, which is just perfect for the two of them, and Finn always finds it easy to relax and chill out there.

Neat or messy?: It depends on his mood and how lazy he feels, but Finn prefers to be neat. Sometimes he just doesn’t have the energy to pick the clothes up off the floor.

Sexuality: Gay.

Morals: Finn isn’t really sure how to describe his morals. He was raised with the value of always trying to do the right thing, but he hit a dark period where morals were thrown out the window when he was forced into C.A.R.M.A. He had no qualms with assassinating a dangerous Meta or torturing a Rebel without guilt. Now that he’s no longer brainwashed, he regrets his past deeds and uses the Hero Squad as a way to “atone” for those by trying to save anyone needing help and stopping crime without killing the bad guy.

Activities: Playing guitar, singing, occasionally writing, running, dog-walking, sex with Danny, training, being a vigilante, drinking

Friends? Pets?: His closest friends are definitely Kelli, Hope, and Alexandra

Enemies? Why?: Sal Bradbury. The man lives to torment him ever since he was forced into and eventually left C.A.R.M.A, and Finn both hates him and weirdly cares about him.

Basic Nature: Finn comes off as extroverted, entertaining, sassy, and charismatic, but he’s a lot more than that. To those who really know him, he’s kind, protective, compassionate, and will go to the ends of the earth of them. He also has an incredibly short-temper, and when he gets angry, he likes to take it out through fighting.

Personality Traits: Feisty, short-tempered, humorous, protective, brave, intuitive, creative, impulsive, strong-willed, friendly, playful, tough, emotionally unstable, strategic, instinctive, smart, caring

Strongest/Weakest Traits: Finn’s strongest traits are definitely his bravery, his caring and protective nature towards his friends and family, and ability to plan strategies for a fight. His weakest would be his emotional instability since he tends to compartmentalize his negative emotions for extended periods of time until they all bubble up in the form of an emotional breakdown. His short-temper has also sometimes gotten him into trouble as well.

What do they fear?: He fears ending up in C.A.R.M.A again as an agent, forced to kill and torture innocent lives. 

What are they proud of?: He’s proud of surviving the worst part of his life spent in C.A.R.M.A, and the fact that he’s out and using his skills to help do good in Pansaw.

Outlook on life: Finn’s outlook on life kinda wavers towards pessimistic realism and rare hopeful optimism towards the future. Life currently sucks, but it could start getting better.

Ambitions: Finn’s ambitions at the moment are to basically try and really move past his former C.A.R.M.A life, keep his family safe and out of C.A.R.M.A’s hands, marry Daniel, and be happy in life. 

Politics: Surprisingly, Finn is really conservative on a lot of things, but more egalitarian with social issues. He absolutely hates social justice warriors; they are the bane of his existence and the reason he grinds his teeth at night. 

How do they see themselves?: Outwardly, Finn sees himself as hot shit, confident, funny, and bold. But deep down, he kind of thinks of himself as a hot mess at the moment. He doesn’t necessarily think he’s a great person, but he likes to think that he’s working on that. 

How are they seen by others?: Others view him as cute and snarky, but rather entertaining. His friends probably see him as a really annoying but lovable brother they trust.

Do I (the writer) like this person? Why? Why not?: I honestly adore Finn as a person, he’s the kind of guy that I’d wanna grab a beer with and be best friends with. He’d be like the older brother I never had.

Most Important Thing About Them: His resillience.

Present Problem: Finn’s current problem is basically that he feels like Sal and C.A.R.M.A have torn his family apart and it started since the day he was arrested. Sal’s been terrorizing him and his parents, putting ideas into his mother’s head and sharing all the recorded footage of his time in C.A.R.M.A being tortured and doing horrible things. His dad is also still in C.A.R.M.A and it’s been harder to see him more often.

How it will get worse: There are a million different ways this could get worse, but for Finn personally, it could only get worse if he somehow ended up back in C.A.R.M.A and being Sal’s “pet” again. He still has nightmares about what happened to him and what went on during his time there.

Their goals in this story?: He kind of wants to try helping make a difference with how Metas are viewed in the world, that not all of them are bad and some can be good and helpful. That’s sort of the reason the Hero Squad was founded; he and the others who started it wanted to use the skills they had to help others.

What traits will help/hurt them in achieving this goal?: His determination, bravery, intelligence, and skills from C.A.R.M.A.

What makes them different from similar characters?: I feel like what makes Finn different is that he takes responsibility for his actions from when he was in C.A.R.M.A, and doesn’t blame them on the fact that he was brainwashed (even if he says otherwise to other people). He also doesn’t really lament on it a lot or let it hinder him from trying to make it right in his own weird way.

Why will readers remember this character vividly?: He’s kind of a goofball and I find him entertaining, but he also has a bit of darkness underneath that he’s trying to overcome.

#wotna task