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thorns-and-rosewings · 4 months

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Wow... We've reached part 6 of this thing, the Reaper King AU 💀. I will be honest, this is the most I have written in years... Writing used to be the one thing I couldn't stop myself from doing... but... Somewhere along the lines I lost my passion for it. This is the first time in AGES I have had so much fun doing the thing that I love. And I gotta say I hope y'all are enjoying reading this half as much as I enjoy writing it :)

TW: As per usual, this touches on some darker topics. So you've been warned.

Part 6

-It takes KC a while to truly figure out how to use the App properly... But he gets the hang of it eventually.

-Although he does get a few more 'Old Man' jokes from Bloodmoon as he's figuring it out.

-The fact that he's a robot having trouble figuring out a dating app is not even acknowledged though.

-The conversations between KC and the Ranger, whose name is Harper (Yes, I have finally figured out their name and their a very tomboyish young woman in her early 30s with brown hair and emerald green eyes.) are very casual and friendly. Mostly talking about shared interests.

...Movies...

-The Friday the 13th movies are underrated along with the Nightmare on Elm St series. The original Jurassic Park movies are timeless. Godzilla movies are wonderful and best enjoyed in a large screen setting like with a projector or at a drive in.

-And to this day no one has a clue what the hell was up with Halloween 3.

KC: Honestly some of the B rated horror movies are better than the big budget movies nowadays... More entertaining.

Harper: Preaching to the choir, completely agree :)

...Pets...

Harper: I'm a dog person, I had a husky up until recently... Sadly she passed and I just haven't had the heart to get a new one yet. Not to mention my job; I would have to get a pretty well behaved dog to have it out here.

KC: I have one dog (Petting Muerte, the Moon Wolf alpha) but I take care of a lot of others... My eldest has a dog as well.

...he watches as Bloodmoon is having a full tug-of-war with a bone in his mouth with the two headed/deformed wolf that he has named HunterKiller...

KC: Completely reflects how he is as a person...

...Hobbies...

-As it turns out Harper has a love for legends, myths and all sorts of tall tales especially stories about cryptids. She's obviously extremely outdoorsy and would rather spend her life hiking the trails than sitting in front of a computer screen. The pay for working at the park she is currently working in is also really good... Probably because they can't seem to keep employees long term.

KC: Aren't you scared? There's a lot of disappearances in this area...

Harper: I am not gonna lie, I have... Seen some stuff. In the mists. I think... Eh, you probably won't believe me.

KC: You would be very surprised what I would believe.

Harper: I... I... think I encountered some of the forests cryptids once. I was out hiking and... Just these two forms amongst all that mist. I just froze... Then backed away and ran.

KC: I believe you. Strange things live out here... Were you afraid?

Harper: Well yeah... But... I always kinda had the theory that if you were respectful and left the cryptids alone... They'd leave you alone. I saw them, or at least thought I did, and I backed up and left the area. In kind of a hurry I admit... But I am not one of those people who go out looking for trouble. And judging by the fact that I am still alive, I think that theory might hold water.

KC: That's a good philosophy... I don't think it's completely accurate. But a very decent way of looking at things.

Harper: What's your theory?

KC: That it's nothing personal.

Harper: ?

KC: These cryptids hunt and kill indiscriminately. It's nothing personal to them. It's like a wolf hunting a deer... Maybe they have some scruples about what they hunt, but whatever they do kill... it's nothing personal. Respecting their domain won't always save you, but you'll probably live longer than most.

Harper: ...

KC: ?

Harper: And that is why I would rather deal with cryptids, monsters and legends than live in a concrete jungle amongst other humans any day.

-That one made Killcode smile.

...Family...

KC: I have a big family, all adopted and brought together by odd circumstances... My eldest is a young adult. My second eldest is a young teenager and it shocks me how mature he is. As he's definitely more mature than his older brother. Then my first daughter, she's growing so fast. She's so protective of her siblings and even me. Then there's my twin boys, who are a pair of mischievous little gremlins. Then there my four year old, she's very shy. Clings to my eldest like glue, which is surprising because he can be abrasive. And then there's my youngest, only a few months old now. But I can already tell she's going to be an energetic little hellion when she gets older. I love them all so much ♥️

Harper: Wow

KC: Is there a problem?

Harper: No no, just... Are they okay with you dating? I know sometimes kids don't like their parents dating. I don't want to upset your family.

KC: Actually they set this account up for me.

Harper: Oh ok. But based on your description they sound wonderful

KC: Do you have any family?

Harper: ...not really, I was an only child. My parents passed away in a car accident. No aunt's, uncle's, cousins or anything. I'm just kinda here by myself. Some friends actually made this account for me as a joke about a month ago. And... You're the only person who has had any interest in talking to me here. I was thinking about deleting this thing just before you started talking with me.

KC: Funny how the world works.

Harper: Is it nice?

KC: What?

Harper: Having a big family like that?

KC: It's the greatest joy in my life. There are times we disagree and argue, yes. But being surrounded by the ones you love the most and who love you back... There's nothing comparable.

Harper: Sounds lovely

-They talk back and forth like this for a few weeks. Before they finally opt to meet and go on a date.

...the date...

Upon KC's suggestion they are going to go on a hike on one of the shorter, but still challenging trails. One of Harper's favorites. He states that he'll be bringing her a red rose, so she will know who he is. She stated he didn't need too, but KC insisted. Harper actually gets to the beginning of this trail a little early and is quite nervous... Will they get along well in person? Will he like her?

...she didn't notice the approach of the towering 9ft tall creature garbed in a cloak, with a large glowing red core upon his chest until he was standing right next to her... She turns to see Killcode right next to her, but before she can do anything at all-

He holds out a single red rose. 🌹

There was a moment where the proverbial hamster fell off the wheel in Harper's head... But after a long moment everything finally caught up with her and she realized exactly what was going on.

Harper: Oh um... Hi...K...C?

Killcode: (Awkward smile)

They begin that hike... At first things are a bit tense and more than a little awkward. But they do begin talking, KC assuring Harper this isn't a trick or trap or anything... Harper asks a few questions of her own. But things become less tense. After a bit, things gradually go from being tense to calm, to friendly... And about an hour into the hike they are conversing like friends.

By the time they reach the halfway point of the hike, the moon has risen into the sky and any lingering awkwardness has completely evaporated and they stop and just look at the nights sky.

Harper states this is the best date she's ever been on...

KC points out that this is the only date he's ever been on...

They both laugh. Although KC starts to turn his gaze towards the forest more and more as they continue on the second half of the trail... Until he finally stops and crosses his arms. Looking at something that Harper cannot see.

KC: Young lady... Is there a reason you're following us?

...wordlessly Wisp emerges from the forest, bathing the entire area in a soft blue glow. Harper cannot help but stare at the little girl that is made of flames before her. She floats up and sits in KC's arms, allowing him and Harper to see the thing on her neck.

Harper: Is that... Is that one of those little cameras people put on their cats?

KC: (Gets horrified) Bloodmoon did you put a cat spy camera on your little sister?!

(Elsewhere Bloodmoon and the others slam the laptop closed)

...It wasn't until just before sunrise, after Harper had finally finished cleaning up the station that it really dawned on her at that moment that she is now dating one of the most feared local cryptids.

Harper found the situation both adorable and hilarious... And she admittedly was trying to avoid laughing too hard at the sight. But Wisp looked Harper up and down before moving in close and whispering to her father.

Wisp: I like her. She has a kind heart.

The girl then disappeared back into the forests from whence she came... While KC muttered about how Bloodmoon was going to be in sooo much trouble when he got home.

Rather than their date simply ending at the end of the trail, Killcode actually accompanies Harper back to the Ranger Station... Which was beneficial because much to Harper's dismay, those racoons had returned and had promptly locked her out of the cabin again. And the sounds of chittering and ransacking of the fridge can be heard even from outside.

Harper: (Growls) Evil little trash pandas...

KC: Maybe I can be of some assistance here?

Harper: If you wanna try, but they're tricky little things... The last time they locked me out I had to sleep in my Jeep. This time I am just going to go get the ladder and get in through the upstairs window... Which I started to leave open delibrately to handle these raccoon invasions.

Killcode says nothing as he walks towards the door and actually phases through it... Everything grows eerily still for a moment, before the loud, booming voice of Killcode echoes through the area like cannon fire.

KC: GET OUT!!!!!!!

Immediately the door flies open and at least a dozen raccoons run out... With their high pitched and fearful chittering sounding far more human than Harper can recall hearing before... Hell she swore she heard something along the lines of 'How were we supposed to know she was the mate of the Reaper King?!'

...yeah she's thinking too far into it...

Still KC just calmly unlocked the front door and walked outside. Expressing that he had a wonderful time tonight and would love to do this again. Something Harper happily agrees too...

They make plans to meet up again in the coming days. Before KC bids her good night and he retreats back into the forest so quickly that he just seemed to vanish...

...and she is perfectly fine with it :)

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peachyomega · 1 month

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Askew 💕

Summary: STRICKPAGE (Taking place 2 weeks after Revolution)

This is a follow up to my other fic Love Me Not, but you don't have to read that one to enjoy this one.

I posted this briefly to Ao3 but took it down. I feel more comfortable posting here.

Rating: NC-17

Characters: Hangman Adam Page X Swerve Strickland

Warnings: Bondage, Desperate Longing, Slight Dom/Sub, Mirror Play, Tragic Bfs, Sad Boy Hours

Words: 2228

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Swerve stood before the costume racks and sighed bitterly. Someone had come in during the show to “tidy up”. They had taken all of the clothing Swerve had left strewn across the locker room floor, and hung it all up. “Great. So fucking helpful.” he grumbled.

Deciding there was nothing else for it, Swerve began sorting his things from what was on the racks and removing them from the hangers to toss into his bag. He must have been doing this a little too aggressively since he heard a stitch pop at the shoulder of one of his newer sweaters as he pulled it down. He cursed under his breath and threw the thing roughly into his duffel.

He had brought out more things than he usually did because he could not decide on an outfit for his run-in that night. He and Prince Nana spent nearly an hour before his cue trying on different combinations of clothes, with Swerve snapping at Nana more than once. Swerve wanted to look as tough and intimidating as possible while also showing an edge of sex appeal. He had ultimately decided on his big, black, fur lined coat (oiled, bare chest underneath) and paired it with some distressed boot cut jeans that looked straight out of 2003. The y2k era’s aesthetics were returning to the fashion world, and he thought he resembled a character from a Blade or Underworld movie in his getup, which suited him just fine.

He had watched his entrance on the monitors afterward and felt he had nailed the vibe he was going for well enough, but even so he didn’t feel very pleased with himself, or with anything really. Something dark that he was failing to suppress was itching away at the back of his mind, casting a gloom over his mood, and causing him to have a bubbling, frustrated anger toward practically everything else. Even Nana had left the venue early without him, likely aware that would have been the best bet for him tonight.

Swerve had no one he could talk to about what was bothering him, which made the situation feel all the more looming and hopeless, coupled with the fact that he was pissed at himself for even feeling this way… About him…

It had been two weeks since they’d last seen each other. Two weeks since their post-show tryst in the hallway. Two weeks, and yet Swerve could still remember exactly how his rival’s lips had tasted. He found himself having involuntary flashbacks of that night almost constantly. It was to the point that he was spending his days in an unfocused, frustrated haze, and his nights in a writhing mess in his sheets. He was unable to escape his fixation on the cowboy, even in his dreams.

Swerve’s eyes landed on his gold and silver arm warmers lying amongst the mess of clothing on the floor, and he stooped to pick them up. He ran his fingers along the smooth, stretchy fabric and watched how it shimmered in the locker room lights. He recalled random memories of the last time he’d worn them, including an image of his fingers grasping soft, golden curls…

“Fuck!” Swerve shouted in frustration, tossing the gear away from him. Did his every thought have to be so consumed with Hangman? He didn’t even know when he’d see him again, and he missed him this much already? A part of him felt so lost. His and Adam’s feud had dominated the better part of the last 6 months of his life, and to be completely cut off from it all now seemed cruel. Swerve felt like he was infected by his heartache. Like he was actually sick with a disease he had no idea how to cure. As his misery threatened to boil over he heard a soft shuffling behind him.

Before he could react, he felt warm palms spread across his upper back and linger for a moment before they pushed him forward roughly. Swerve’s chest collided with the wide, wooden locker door in front of him, and his breath came out in a whoosh. He tried to turn himself around, but his wrist was grabbed and his arm was twisted and pushed into his lower back, pinning him in place. Swerve cried out in pain and protest before he felt another hand wrap around his locs and pull, forcing his head back.

It only took a moment for Swerve’s surprise to turn into fury, and he began struggling forcefully to free himself until he felt lips against his ear, and breath on his neck. “Swerve…” his assailant whispered.

Swerve froze. He tried to turn his head, his eyes bending back as far as they could to try to catch a glimpse of who was behind him, but he didn’t need to see him to know. “Adam?” He asked breathlessly.

Adam didn’t respond, but drove his knee between Swerve’s legs from behind, and bent down to retrieve something from the floor. As he straightened up, he pressed a kiss to Swerve’s bare shoulder. “Give me your other arm.” He said.

Swerve hesitated. His mind was still trying to comprehend the situation he was in, but it seemed his body wasn’t struggling to understand at all. The small contact of Adam’s warm mouth against his bare skin was enough to make his cock begin to stiffen with excitement, and he decided to give in to what Adam had asked of him.

He let his right arm go slack and Adam immediately snatched it up and began wrapping something around both of his wrists, binding them. “What are you…?” Swerve began to ask, before Adam shushed him. Once Swerve was properly bound, Adam leaned in to press his body against him. He ground his hips against Swerve’s ass, and Swerve felt Adam’s cock growing hard against him before his hands began roaming over his body.

Keeping Swerve pinned between himself and the door, Adam groped him all over. First his chest, then his sides, his stomach, and his hips. He squeezed him hard there and thrust his own hips against him roughly. His hands wandered hungrily back up to Swerve’s chest and he began rubbing and flicking his nipples until Swerve whimpered so softly Adam barely heard it.

“I think you can do better than that…” Adam murmured against Swerve’s ear. “I want you to moan for me.”

Adam reached down and smoothed his hand over Swerve’s growing erection, causing him to gasp. Swerve closed his eyes and let his head fall back against Adam’s shoulder as he rubbed his cock through his jeans.

Suddenly Adam yanked on Swerve’s bound wrists and spun him away from the wall. He walked him over to stand in front of the locker room mirror, staying behind him.

As he took in their reflection, Swerve’s eyes found Adam’s and he wanted so badly in that moment to turn around and kiss the cowboy. Two weeks had been far too long to go without seeing him after all they had been through, and Swerve didn’t look away from Adam as he undid Swerve’s pants with one hand, peeling them away from his hard cock.

Once it was free, Adam took it in hand and squeezed, which caused Swerve to cry out a low moan. Adam’s eyes fluttered shut at the sound “Good…” he praised.

Adam began slowly working his hand up and down Swerve’s shaft, watching Swerve closely in the mirror. His other hand wrenched down on Swerve’s wrists again, forcing his back to arch.

A pleased half smile played on Adam’s lips as he watched his captive’s body strain and bend in the mirror’s reflection. He picked up his pace on Swerve’s cock as he said “You look so good tonight, Swerve. So fucking good.”

Swerve could do little more than pant in response. Adam was showing zero restraint in the attention he was giving his cock, which was now leaking warm precum. His hands slid slick and quick over Swerve’s cock over and over, faster and faster, almost like he was trying to overstimulate him on purpose.

As the sensations were starting to become too much, Swerve cried out again, much louder than the before, and thrashed against Adam’s hold.

Adam bore down on Swerve’s wrists again to make him go still, but he finally stopped touching him. They both watched as Swerve’s wet, swollen cock bounced and throbbed in response to its sudden release. Adam chuckled darkly. “Did you miss me?” He asked, turning his face toward Swerve’s and planting a biting kiss against his neck.

Swerve worked to catch his breath for a moment before responding. “Yes… Why are you back?”

Adam met Swerve’s eyes again in the mirror. “It’s been hard for me to stay away, suspended or not. I missed you, too.”

With that, he moved in closer and guided Swerve’s face to his. He kissed him, long and deep.

Swerve met Adam’s lips eagerly. Kissing Adam like this felt like the first sip of water after a long drought, like the first gasping breath after almost drowning.

He lost himself in Adam’s mouth, his tongue writhing out from between his lips to caress his lover’s. Adam responded by forcing his tongue into Swerve’s mouth, licking anything inside of him that he could reach. They went on like this with increasing intensity until Adam’s hand resumed its hold of Swerve’s cock. Swerve moaned into the cowboy’s mouth as he went, and this time it wasn’t long until Swerve felt like he was about to cum. He tried to keep kissing him, but Adam broke away and returned his eyes to the mirror. “Watch yourself as you cum, baby.” He said.

Swerve watched Adam’s face in the mirror before his gaze drifted lower, taking in the sight of Adam’s hand pumping away at him. Adam watched, too, as Swerve’s hips seemed to shudder and a series of massive cum jets burst out of his cock, falling sloppily to the floor and soaking Adam’s hand. Swerve moaned and spasmed through each one, but kept his eyes on himself just as Adam had instructed.

When he was done, Adam released him, and he sank to his knees on the floor, panting. Swerve lifted his head to look over at Adam, but was surprised to be met with his hard cock being shoved into his face instead. Adam guided the tip past Swerve’s lips and into his panting mouth.

Swerve coughed at first, shocked at the abrupt invasion, but he quickly recovered after hearing the noises Adam made in response to feeling his tongue. He pushed his tongue out of his mouth to lick along Adam’s full length. Adam pushed himself deeper into the mouth his tongue had just explored so thoroughly moments before.

Swerve caught sight of himself in the mirror. Hands still bound behind his back, pants falling down his hips, his used cock still glistening with cum while his lover thrust himself into his mouth, all the while kneeling in his own mess. He felt desired, sexy, and slutty in the kind of way that only passionate, dirty fucking could make him feel, and he loved it.

He rolled his eyes up to watch Adam’s face, let his jaw go slack and his tongue hang out, opening his throat up to take Adam deeper.

Adam panted and whimpered as he thrust into Swerve’s lewd, drooling mouth. He tried to keep his strokes short, but Swerve seemed to want to take him as deep as he possibly could, and Adam couldn’t hold on for long.

Swerve gagged a little as Adam came down the back of his throat, hot cum filling him up to the point that he couldn’t draw breath. Adam lingered inside him a little too long once he was spent, and Swerve had to pitch forward, coughing and spitting onto the floor as he tried to catch his breath.

Adam leaned down next to him “Are you alright?” he asked. He moved to untie Swerve’s hands. He had used one of Swerve’s gold and silver arm warmers to bind him. He took the thing and tossed it back across the room.

Swerve rubbed his wrists, which he now realized were sore. Adam reached out and took them instead, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into Swerve’s skin.

He gave Swerve a small smile.

All at once Swerve became overwhelmed. He felt tears begin to prickle behind his eyes, and he lunged forward to wrap Adam up in his arms. Adam was startled for a moment, but wrapped his arms around Swerve, too. They sat in their embrace for several moments while Swerve’s tears silently stained Adam’s black T shirt. “What’s wrong?” Adam finally asked. “I’m sorry I was so rough with you, I just wanted–”

Swerve cut him off. “It’s fine. That’s not it. I’m sorry, I just– I’m so happy to see you. Too happy. Adam… I know it was only two fucking weeks, but… Don’t leave me alone for that long again, okay?” He gave Adam a weak smile, the overhead lights making the tears on his lashes sparkle.

Adam’s smile was wide, and he chuckled low in his chest. “Okay, I promise. Fuck a suspension! My bitter rival needs to see me on a regular basis, and who am I to deny him?.”

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Thanks for reading 🥰

#aew #strickpage #hangman adam page #swerve strickland #aew fanfiction #aew fanfic #hangman x swerve #hangman adam page x swerve strickland #swerve when i ride

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poppletonink · 8 months

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Review: Red, White and Royal Blue Movie

★★★★★ - 5 stars

"You need to figure out if you feel forever about him. Do you love him?"

The so-called "Cake Gate" was an accident - I mean, nobody would choose to have a £75,000 cake fall on top of you and your worst enemy. Alex Claremont-Diaz didn't mean to create an international scandal, but it doesn't mean he didn't do it. Now, his mother, the President of the United States needs him to do some damage control in order to not mess up her opportunity of winning the next election. Except, Alex Claremont-Diaz cannot stand Prince Henry and now he has to pretend they're best friends. Yet as Alex and Henry spend more time together, they realise that their hatred towards each other is completely unprecedented and quickly find themselves hurtling into a secret relationship with each other. As the election draws closer, Alex realises that he feels something more for Henry. Alex realises that he is in love with him. The question is what is worth the sacrifice? Is he willing to potentially upend two nations and ruin his mother's campaign? Is true love really worth it?

Red, White and Royal Blue seems like some sort of whacky, wild fan fiction in summary - it's a royal au, follows the enemies to lovers trope and very much so idiots in love. Despite the AO3 tags it perfectly fits into, Red, White and Royal Blue is so much more than it seems. It's a beautiful love story, a tale of hurt, heartbreak and comfort, that emotionally hits the viewer in ways you aren't expecting.

As someone who read the book a long time before the film was even conceptualised, (and as it's one of my favourite books of all time) my standards for how great this film needed to be were extremely - and I mean extremely - high. Despite leaving out bits from the book, which as sad as it may be is understandable due to time constraints, it still hit me just as viscerally as the book. Somehow even though some of the largest plot points (e.g. Bea's cocaine addiction) and most important characters (June Claremont-Diaz who I adore so very much) were missing, it still remained really accurate to the book. That sounds really contradictory, I know, but it was genuinely amazing how many lines they kept word for word from the original novel. It's something that I truly appreciate about recent book to screen adaptations, and I loved the fact that I could notice every time that it happened.

Nick and Taylor's chemistry was off the charts, which is something that seemingly came out of left field for a lot of people, but quite genuinely made the perfect Alex and Henry. They perfectly performed the witty banter, the yearning looks and the complete and utter disdain they have for each other at times. They made Alex Claremont-Diaz and Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor real and by doing that they too made history.

Music played quite a large role in this film from the beginning until the end. I think the greatest song choice was undoubtedly Katarina Stratford's anthem. Bad Reputation was a brilliant choice for the theme song - it's such a perfect representation of Alex as a person, of him not caring what other people think and simply doing what he wants to do. It was also great to see Henry's karaoke performance of Don't Stop Me Now by Queen on the screen, and Henry and Alex dancing in the V&A was quite frankly beautiful.

Overall, Red, White and Royal Blue is a must-watch film of 2023. It's raw and emotional; it's a master class in romance; and it's extremely funny. It's a story that will make history.

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snotwomble · 2 years

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“Sleepy Cuddles” - Robin x Reader (Part 1/2)

Robin Buckley x F!Reader Oneshot

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: You’re at your best friend Robin’s house once again to watch a movie together, and this time you feel brave (and sleepy) enough to get a little closer.

Warnings: None

A/N: Please lmk if you want a part two of this it’s just giving me such cosy vibes aahhhhh :D I love Robin so much

Read Part 2 here!

You stayed at Robin’s house most days. It was never really a planned thing, you just sort of ended up there. You'd be talking and walking in your own little world together and then you’d realise the destination you both stumbled upon, absentmindedly wandering upstairs to her room together as you did each day before. It was nice for you both, as you each enjoyed each others company more than the average friend should, but you were both worried to admit your feelings aloud. So, these sort of incidental hang outs were convenient, as you could both enjoy spending time with one another without having to brave the proposals and suggestions of arranging things to do together. Things just came naturally with the two of you; you were glued together at the hip and you didn't even have to try.

Each night you became closer and closer, both as friends and physically. Robin would talk for hours and you'd learn so much about her life and interests. In all honesty, you had no idea how she still had stories left to tell. You'd open up to her about all sorts of things that were on your mind and she’d listen with such an attention she could not direct anywhere else. She did however struggle to keep eye contact with you as her eyes wandered down to your lips as you spoke.

Then comes the physical closeness. Initially, your small crushes on each other acted as barriers to which you ensured a certain amount of distance was retained at all times. You left little spaces between the two of you when you first sat down on her bed, but then you spent more time together and grew to be more than comfortable. You hardly notice a leg sprawled across your lap, a head leaning on your shoulder. Your lives were so intertwined that your nerves were pushed aside, your instinctual desire to be close overriding the fear.

You end up in this position every day; practically cuddled together watching a movie. This time, Gremlins. Robin had gasped earlier at the first signs of snow, and you couldn’t help but indulge in her excitement, suggesting a Christmas film. She squealed and jumped around before grinning and talking about Phoebe Cates and how much she wanted her very own Gismo. You bickered about the impracticalities of a gremlin all the way home, clinging onto each other’s arm to steady yourself on the slippery ground.

You looked to Robin as you walked arm in arm. She was your best friend and you loved her. You couldn’t help but think how gorgeous she looked in that moment; bright red nose and cheeks from the cold, wrapped up warm in a woolly hat and scarf. Her teeth chattered and she certainly would not let you go a minute without being reminded of the fact she was cold. You just wanted to get into the warm with her and cuddle, but you knew you couldn’t outright ask for that. So, you prayed to the gods and all above that the universe would do you this favour.

Finally in the warm, you sat on her bed whilst she set up the video. You thought about how you were sat, planning how you could get as close as possible to her without it being weird. Maybe you could do the whole yawn and put your arm around her trick, but was that too obvious? You didn’t want her to think anything romantic was going on, even though you wish it was, but at the same time, maybe you should. I mean, you heard the way she spoke about Phoebe Cates, you'd just never really considered the fact that Robin could like girls too. The fact that she could like you.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a dip in the bed as Robin sat down beside you. She smiled at you brightly before asking, “Are you still cold?” You nodded, and she began to smile wider. “Okay, hang on.”

Robin sprang up from the bed in an instant, immediately on her hands and knees rummaging underneath the bed. You began to laugh, “Robin, what are you doing?”

When she emerged, she was holding a huge knitted blanket. “I've had this since I was 2, it's kinda coming apart but I wanted to show you some of the patches,” she smiled shyly. Robin then preceded to take you on a tour of her patchwork blanket with you both sat beneath it. As she spoke, your bodies grew closer like two lonely magnets. You didn't know when it had happened, but a noise from the film brought you back to your senses and you noticed how you were sat. Both of your legs were intertwined and you were resting your head on Robin’s shoulder. Holy fuck. You were so close you could practically feel her heart beating, and boy oh boy was it beating fast.

Robin adjusted slightly, wriggling further down the bed to be almost laying down. Her eyes were glued to the screen and you felt a sudden wave of bravery over one you. You were so comfortable and she was so perfect, you just wanted a tiny bit more. To be just inches closer you would do anything, and so you began to slowly inch your hand towards hers. At first, your fingers just grazed against her palm, to which you thought Robin barely even noticed, but then she began to move too. Whether she was aware of this or not, seemingly absentmindedly she began to play with your fingers. Running the tips of her own around your palm like ice skaters in the snow, tracing the outline of each finger as if memorising the curve of each joint, all the while her eyes remained glued to the screen, Gremlins still playing in the background.

You could no longer concentrate on the film. Your heart was pumping in your chest, bound to explode any moment. This could still just be a friendly thing, right? I’m sure all girls must lay under a blanket with their friend every day whilst watching a movie and practically holding hands... Right?

You turned your attention to Robin’s body, as you could feel her breathing quicken. Tilting your head up to meet her eyes, you saw beneath the blush and bitten lip and it hit you right there.

Oh.

Robin Buckley did not think this was just a friendly thing either, and you couldn’t be happier. You began to smile, there was no point hiding it. She looked nervous, trying so hard not to look at you from fear of fucking up or misreading the situation entirely.

“Robin?” You began with a smile.

“Hm?” she asked, her gaze not faltering.

You giggled slightly, adoring the way her eyes flitted around the scene before you, concealing the thousands of thoughts she usually splurged out, but for now was holding back. In all honestly, you’d fallen head over heels with Robin, and she had with you, too. You wanted nothing more than to kiss her and be close with her as you were now for as long as she’d let you.

“Hey, look at me,” you spoke softly.

She turned to you with wide eyes, seemingly afraid. You smiled brightly, reassuring her. “Are you, uh, is everything...” Robin’s words trailed off as you intertwined your fingers firmly with hers.

“Oh,” Robin whispered. You giggled at this. She looked so cute, the low light of the screen flickering over the soft features of her face. “You’re holding my hand.”

“Yeah, I am,” you giggled, “is this okay?”

Robin was nodding before you’d even finished speaking. “Mhm, yeah, yeah, totally. Totally cool, I mean, it’s okay, I’m alright with it, yeah...” A silence stretched between the two of you for a few moments, but you felt Robin’s muscles stiffen under your touch, still leaning into her body as you lay beside each other, hand in hand. She began again, “I mean only if you are, of course, I don’t wanna make you feel weird or anything.”

“Robin, I was the one who started holding your hand, of course I’m okay,” you laughed.

“Oh... Oh yeah,” Robin bit her lip. You weren’t quite sure who broke first, but soon after you had both succumbed to fits of laughter. Neither of you really knew what was funny, but you were simultaneously just so comfy and so overwhelmed with giddiness that you couldn’t help it. As the giggling subsided, you simply cuddled into her further, nuzzling your neck into her shoulder. Her lips were close to your forehead so she barely even had to whisper for you to hear her. Robin spoke so quietly, so unsure of herself in spite of her usual chatty self.

“Can I put my arm around you?” she whispered softly. You tilted your head upwards to meet her gaze once again before lifting your neck for her arm to slide under. You hummed in satisfaction.

“You’re comfy,” you murmured. The warmth from Robin’s body against yours, along with the steady, albeit fast beating of her heart, were lulling you into a comforting state of sleepiness.

Robin was stuck for words, butterflies exploding from her stomach and swarming every inch of her body. “I like this,” she whispered into your hair.

You hummed again. “Me too.” You were struggling to keep your eyes open now.

“Do you... maybe, do you wanna stay?” She murmered. “Like, stay the night? You don’t have to, of course, I can drive you home if you’d like. You just look...” She paused, unsure of her next words, before your thumb began stroking across the back of her hand and all of a sudden, she felt the bravest she had ever felt before. “You look really pretty, and like, peaceful...” She trailed off, watching as you offered a sleepy smile.

“That sounds nice.” You nuzzled further into her neck. “You’re really pretty too.”

Robin brushed off her blushing with an awkward laugh. “Shut up, you’re not even looking at me, dingus” She spoke softly despite the teasing.

Your words were laced with sleep, “Yeah but you’re always pretty, Robs.”

“I am?” she asked.

“Yeah, you’re real pretty.” You had your eyes closed now, but you could picture her face perfectly. Eyes wide and lips parted, frantically searching for the words to say and overthinking every possible option so as not to fuck it all up. “I really like you... Like this...” you whispered.

And as you drifted off into the safest, warmest and most comfortable sleep of your life, Robin whispered into your hair, “I like you too,” with the widest, goofiest smile imaginable. After a few minutes of her laying completely still, ensuring you were completely asleep and she wasn’t going to disturb you, Robin closed her eyes and smiled before drifting off with you in her arms.

Part 2!

#robin buckley #stranger things robin #stranger things #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley headcannon #robin x reader #robin stranger things #stranger things imagine #robin buckley oneshot #stranger things oneshot #stranger things x reader #maya hawke #maya hawke x reader

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bokettochild · 1 month

Note

Opera house AU

I can actually see Linkle being pretty close to Wind and Aryll. She's just as responsible with them as Wars, but more open to Shenanigans. The four have the most intense board game nights ever seen, there's more double dealing, backstabbing and gerrymandering in their average game of Settlers of Catan then the 2020 US Election

Well, since you asked (suggested?)

Happy late birthday! Here is the Catan fic we've been chatting about!

There are many ways Warriors likes to de-stress after a long day at work. Running into his twin sister outside of his apartment though, is not one of them.

It’s not that he dislikes his job, in fact, he’s very fond of it. He likes acting, he likes the opera, and most importantly, he likes his boss, his co-workers, and even most of his fans. His agent, not so much, but that’s neither here nor there; almost nobody likes their agent. The only people he’s heard of who like their agent are Legend and Ravio, and that’s only because Dot is their so-called ‘agent’, if only on paper. The girl isn’t fully qualified for the actual job, but he’s half a mind to sign with her once she is, if only to get away from the Dragmire agency.

Regardless of future plans though, he loves his job. He has no intention of leaving, even if balancing rehearsals and college is a bit of a struggle on some days. Today is one of those days though, and after spending all day working with Sky and Time on choreography, the only thing he wants to do is make dinner for himself and the kids, kick his feet up, and finally read something other than a textbook. No, check that, maybe watch a show with Wind; Aryll too if she’s interested, although she usually isn't. Still, he has the feeling if they start watching anything, she’ll come out for snacks and cuddles, which he doesn’t mind in the least.

He’s running down the list of movies they’ve been wanting to watch as he climbs out of his car. Some of them are action, some thriller, a couple mysteries at his insistence and of course some pirate ones for Wind. Usually, he’s not so keen on that sort of thing, but he supposes the whimsical part of his brain has been gathering dust for the last while, and he could probably tolerate a pirate movie tonight, after sufficient begging from his cousin and maybe the promise to get the dishes done for the next week.

Right, dishes.

Heavens, he needs to talk to the landlord about when the new dishwasher is supposed to be installed. He also needs to wash and put away the dishes from last night, because he’d had an assignment due and hadn’t had time once the kids had gone to bed, and this morning he had to drop them off at school, so there wasn’t time then either. Honestly, you’d think three people wouldn’t use that much kitchenware, but the full sink waiting for him in the third-floor apartment would indicate otherwise.

Warriors sighs. Keys in the front door but know not yet turned, he takes a moment to just... lean against the doorframe and sigh.

It’s been a long week.

“Link!”

The sound of his name, his birth name, even spoken by a familiar voice, makes him start, and he goes from leaing on the door to slamming his head against it in surprise, keys already ripping out of the lock and brandished like they could actually do any harm. Well, they could, but not as much as a proper weapon. He hates city rules; back home he could have a switchblade on him and no one would think anything of it!

He doesn’t need a weapon though, at least at the moment, because the person standing behind him is his twin sister, and honestly, even if he was properly armed, she’s almost as good with a switchblade as he is, and she’d probably be able to dodge an attack even if he did make one. As it is, the blonde woman stares at him, bright eyes hard for a moment and smile frozen as she takes him in, but then it’s gone and she’s all sunshine and madness again, something wild in her smile that has him on edge for a whole new reason. A reason that has nothing to do with mistaking her for one of his stalkers. “I‘m so glad you’re home! I brought something for you and the kiddos!”

Loosening his fingers, he lets most of his keys fall free again from between them, door key still in hand as he fumbles for the knob, wary of turning his back even if it is his sister. Especially if it is his sister; she’s unpredictable at the best of times, and he’s not sure she won’t pull something if he’s not looking. It wouldn’t be malicious, but it would be incredibally annoying, and they both know it. Her attempt at an innocent smile as he finally slides the key into the lock says that she knows it, and she doesn't regret it either.

“Do I want to know?”

A shrug, but her smile lingers, bright and chipper, and he can’t help how the sight of it makes him smile in answer.

“Is it chaos contained, or something nice?”

“Can’t it be both?”

“No pyrotechnics in my home. I will kick you to the curb and block you from all social media; even the opera one.” Linkle pouts, which would be effective from any of their other sisters, but considering they’re nearly identical twins, it just makes him snort in laughter instead. “Well, is it a nice surprise, or one that will make me disown you?” he chuckles, pulling the door open, and then wincing when it squeaks.

He needs to talk to the landlord about that too, he supposes. Mentally, he adds it to the list: dishwasher, squeaky door, and the flickering hall lights. Honestly, he swears no one in this building talks to the guy anymore! If he doesn’t call, nothing’s ever done about these things!

He must sigh aloud, because Linkle starts shaking her head, clucking her tongue like Mother used to when they were small. “You need to find a better place to live.” She ducks in through the door without invitation, but he holds it open for her all the same. It has to be tugged firmly so that the lock clicks back into place again, but it’s long since become habit to do that; it’s an old building, the door frames warp with time. Honestly, pulling the door shut is the least of his worries about this place.

“It’s cheap.”

“You have kids living with you.” She reminds him.

He shrugs, juggling his bookbag, keys and the grocery bags he’d grabbed on his way home, in order to find his other apartment key; the one for his unit, not just the front door. “Know another place where I can rent a clean three-bedroom apartment; I’m all ears.”

His sister’s fist makes contact with his shoulder in answer, but he’s been fielding punches from Sky all day, and it honestly hurts far less than the skyloftian’s blows. Usually, he dodges Sky just fine, but he’d been a bit off his game today, and he’s pretty sure he’s got some nasty bruising under his shirt as a result, although admitting as much to Time, or Sky for that matter, is out of the question. They'd been worried enough as was. He’s fine, honestly. The skin is tender, and the muscles will be sore, but letting them know that would just upset his co-worker, not fix it. And would’ve made Time’s scolding to them both far more intense.

He knows, beneath that harsh veneer, that their director is a kind man, but on days like today, it’s easy to forget that. Maybe he needs to text Twilight and tell him to let the old man watch Legend for a day, that might get him to ease up.

Linkle, beside him, must get tired of him fumbling his keys one handed, because she snatches them out of his hand with a put-upon sigh, flicking through them until she finds the right one and unlocking the door for him. Honestly, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it means he can re-distribute the weight of the grocery bags between here and the kitchen counter.

“I’m home!” He calls, stepping into the door and sliding his shoes off onto the mat. Linkle has to crouch to untie her steel-toes, but those too join the three other pairs on the mat as he moves to the kitchen, relief washing over him as he sets the groceries down. There’s shuffling from down the hall, one or both of the kids busy in their rooms. Like their old hound, Linkle starts towards the sound immediately, back-pack still slung over one shoulder while he turns his attention to putting away food and starting a pot of water for pasta.

No pyrotechnics, he reminds himself. No destruction. Linkle wouldn’t actually, he thinks- he hopes, but he’s still got no clue what her “surprise” is. Knowing her though, she’ll tell the kids she has one, then hold it over their heads through dinner. Ah well, better to get food on the proverbial table sooner rather than later, that way the eager nagging won’t last forever.

Warriors isn’t the best cook, not by any means, but he’s managed to keep himself and his kid cousins alive this long, and while he’s under no delusions that his work in any ways lives up to Granny’s cooking, the kids are happy, and well fed, and that’s really all he can ask for. Sure, food is messy, and yes, there's dishes left, but Linkle, sweet, sweet Linkle, his bestest twin sister, has bribed their cousins into washing the dishes before they can have their surprise. Neither question it.

He could have asked them to help, but putting his feet up while they work never sits well with him. Aryll pushing him into the family room and into his recliner while Wind scurries around the kitchen, cajoling Linkle for clues, well, that’s a different matter! The girl won’t let him get up!

“We’ll hurry!” His youngest cousin promises, yanking on the lever on the side of the chair and making him laugh as his feet are literally swept up in front of him onto the footrest. Linkle cackles too, but then Aryll’s bouncing over to the kitchen, voice shrill. “Wash faster, Wind! I wanna see the surprise!”

He laughs at the two, soft, so they don’t hear and think he’s making fun of them, but he can’t help it. Likewise, his twin does the same, moving to climb into the recliner opposite his own. “Oh dear, poor Link! No dishes for him to wash!”

“Poor me,” he sighs, sinking into his chair and blessing his past self for buying the set. It was a bit of a splurge, but it’s proved to be worth it over the years, and a great delight at the end of a long day. He’s just letting his eyes slip closed- not to sleep, but to rest them long enough that light doesn't hurt- when a flick to his nose has him blinking up at his sister again with a huff. “Seriously?”

“Don’t go sleeping now, there’s still a surprise,” she scolds.

“For the kids,” he rubs at his nose. That hurt. “It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Did I say that?”

“Linkle.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Another sigh. “No, I suppose you didn’t.”

“It’s for all of us,” she says, but her voice is low, conspiratory, and there’s that twinkle in her eyes again.

He has some concerns, but he doesn’t speak them. No. Instead, he humors his sibling while the kids clean up, and then when they've all gathered again in the family room, Aryll squishing up beside him and Wind flopping down in an ungraceful pile of teenage boy on the floor, he turns to stare pointedly at his twin. “I believe there’s a surprise someone owes us?”

Another sly little grin, but the backpack is opened, and a brightly colored parcel, somewhat badly wrapped and definitely scuffed, is produced and dropped into Aryll’s lap. “There we go.”

No cue needs be spoken, little hands are already tearing away paper, and while neither of the two younger ones is really sure of what it is once the paper is gone, Warriors can’t help the deep belly laugh that explodes out of him when he sees the familiar box. “Catan? Linkle, are you kidding me?”

“I thought the kids-”

“Oh, sure! ‘The kids’!”

She’s laughing too, although she’s trying so hard to pretend that she isn’t. “Yes! You never have any good family games here-”

“We have Monopoly!” Their young cousins chorus, but the words get drowned out by his twin’s own.

“-so, I thought I’d get you one!”

“You’re a glutton for punishment, you are.” He laughs. “Was it not bad enough, me handing you your ass all those years as a kid? Need me to do it again, do you?”

The kids are exchanging a look, confused but amused, glancing between the two adults with expressions that he’d dare say are amused, in their own way. They both definitely take after their mum; he swears Wind’s eyeroll is just the same as the diva’s aunt when she was left out of a conversation by her older siblings, his own mother included. Still, he takes his time teasing his sister for a moment more, before finally both twins decide to explain how to play to the kids, who are all too eager to learn now in the wake of their banter.

“So, it’s pretty simple,” he opens the box as he speaks. It’s a new one, the game, and doesn’t nearly crumble under his fingers, but he’s dreadfully careful all the same, out of habit. The pieces sit in their little plastic cubbies within for all of a moment, before a flick of the wrist has the box spilling onto the coffee table where they can all reach. The ‘thief’ piece rolls off the side, and Wind dives for it, but honestly, Warriors isn’t worried about it. “I’ll show you how to assemble it, but play is easy enough.”

And assembly is easy. Their old game was so used it was warped on the edge of the frame (Lilly had spilled water on it when she was tiny) but the ocean painted pieces fit nicely together with this one, and after a quick shuffle of the hexagonal land tiles, he lays them out at random into the frame. Well, mostly at random. The desert tile goes in the middle, because it always does. Linkle snorts at him for it too.

“Desert in the middle.”

“It’s not a rule.” She points out, as if she wouldn't protest if he'd done anything ese.

“House rules. My house, my rules.” He’s not mad though, even if his tone is flat, and Aryl is now the one rolling her eyes as Wind sighs at them, head propped up in his hands and making his cheeks squish adorably.

“You two are ridiculous.”

“We’re adults,” he corrects, continuing to set the tiles, “which means we take the time to be dumb when we can.”

A brow raises in answer, the older of his two charges leveling him with a Look. “I have video evidence otherwise.”

“And I have baby pictures I’m happy to leak,” he tugs his cousin’s ear in response, “don’t make me use them, snickerdoodle.”

That seems to get the kid to stop with his threats, which is for the best because he most certainly does not want Linkle to have all the details about his work life. Wind, he doesn’t mind knowing, Aryll too, but his twin is a whole other matter; he doesn’t want the chaos from work to spread to the family. He’d ever lie it down.

“So how does play work?” Aryll asks, already spilling out the packets of little wooden buildings and roads into neat piles along the edge of the table, color coded because of course she does.

Warriors grins at her, setting the box aside and resisting, barely, the urge to shove it on Wind’s head. He’s an adult though, a responsible one, and he will not display such behaviors. No, he’ll just kick their asses in game with a smile on his face. “Well, now that the land is spread out, which you do at random, we have to lay the number tiles, here-” he picks up the back, tugging it open and spilling it into his hand for the middle schooler to see, “-out on top of the land pieces.”

“Also, at random,” Linkle adds, swiping one. “You place them on whatever order you get them, on every land piece except the desert one.”

“What goes there?” Wind asks, fidgeting with the ‘thief’ he’d picked up off the floor.

The eldest mischief maker reaches over a smile on her face as she plucks the wooden figure from his fingers. “Our lovely knight of course!”

“It’s a thief.” He corrects, still laying number tiles with Aryll’s assistance.

“Knight.” Linkle corrects, knowing she’s wrong and purposefully causing problems on purpose because that’s what she does. As kids, they never would have dreamed of challenging the ingo of the game, even if their terms hadn’t been quite what was in the rulebook. As adults though, Linkle delights in opposing everything he has to say, as if doing so makes this more fun. She’s not wrong either; the easy, mindless bickering is relaxing in its own way. It definitely distracts his attention from anything else at any rate.

With a roll of his eyes, Warriors puts away any extra pieces. He debates placing them neatly in the box, but then decides, screw it and drops them it to land how they will. He can worry about it later. Or not at all. Losers are the ones who clean up the game, after all, so it might not even be is problem. “Okay, so, play goes like this.” He grabs a tiny wooden house from one of Aryll’s piles; blue, because they don’t have purple. “Each player takes a turn laying a house on a corner where three of the land tiles intersect,” he sets his down between a forest tile, a brick quarry and a sheep pasture, “usually with the knowledge that when we play, whatever resource tile your piece is touch is the resource you’re going to be earning during the game.” He plucks a matching blue road from the pile Aryll has pushed in front of him, setting it down beside his house, facing in land and already starting a path towards where other desirable tiles are. “The way it works is that, when each player rolls the dice, if the number on the dice matches the number on one of your land tiles, you get a resource card for every house touching that tile.”

“So,” Linkle picks up, setting down a green house a fair distance away from his, on forest, field and pasture tiles, “because I placed my house near a ten a three and a four, if any of those numbers are rolled, I get the resource for the land tile.”

“So, four means a sheep?” The youngest holds up the deck of cards she’d sorted through, apparently while no one was watching, offering the mentioned resource to the older girl.

Her cousin nods. “Yep. And because Wars is touching a nine a six and a five, if any of those numbers are rolled, he gets what’s on those.”

“What’s the thief-knight for?” One sun-browned finger toggles said figure back and forth in the midst of his desert wasteland, big sea-green eyes staring at the older two.

Warriors chuckles. “Well, if you haven’t noticed, all the number tiles have numbers from two to twelve on them; all the numbers you can roll with two six-sided dice; but there’s one missing.”

Those green eyes fall to inspect the board, Aryll popping up to lean over the table, likewise searching until both blonde heads are popping up in time with each other. “The seven?”

“Yep,” he pops the ‘p’. “If you roll a seven, there’s no land tie for that, so you move the thief to someone else’s land tile and get to take one of their resource cards.”

“But whatever number you put the thief on, if someone rolls it after, no one gets whatever resource it is. The knight has that depot under siege, and nothing gets in or out!” Linkle adds, with enough drama that really, she could have been an actress. If she was better at following orders anyhow. Time wouldn’t, and can’t, tolerate her as is.

The younger of his two cousins nods, slowly. She’s still processing, but they’d really dumbed the game down a bit. Honestly speaking, he doesn’t remember most of the official rules, although in playing it with others, he’s since learned that there are many ways and some rules that are held as golden by some and disregarded by others. In the long run, he doesn’t suppose how they play matters much, as long as the core basics stick, and he’s not going to overwhelm the little guppy with finite details. As is, she’s grabbing for the red pieces and shuffling the pile of wood her way, prompting her brother to do the same with the orange ones.

Of course, Wind chooses orange. He should have seen that coming.

“So, I place my house, and then this….”

“Road,” he supplies. “It has to touch the house, but you can put it between any two of the pieces.” To illustrate, he motions to his own set up, tapping carefully the other two possible routes for the wooden highway to follow.

Aryll nods, setting down her house, between a field, a pasture and a mountain quarry, big blue eyes looking up at him expectantly.

He nods. “Perfect.”

“What are these though?” Trust Wind’s eyes to fall on the printed ships set around the board at the edges of the land tiles. You can take a child from the sea, but you can’t take the sea from a child it would seem. “Can you sail around in this game?”

“No,” and while Linkle turns a questioning look at him, he still shakes his head. “Not this version anyway, although I think someone told me once that there is a version for that. I could be wrong though. In this version though, those are what we in the game call ‘ports’.”

The deadpan stare is worth all the effort he’d put into keeping his face straight for that line.

Laughter overtakes him at his cousin’s obvious “no really!” and Warriors has to be terribly careful not to disturb the board in his mirth. “The sails on the ships will tell you what trading discounts you can get by putting your pieces there. See,” he leans over to read the one under Wind’s finger, “this one says that you can trade for any resource if you give up three sheep.”

“What if I don’t have sheep?”

“You suffer.”

Linkle snorts. “You have to make sure you get sheep somehow then.”

Wind nods slowly. “So, you can only trade if you have a house on the port?”

“No,” his sister shakes her head, braids flopping against her shoulders. “As a rule, you can trade any set of four like cards for one card of any other type, even if you’re land locked. The ports just mean you get discounts, but they come with a disadvantage too, because by having your house between two land tiles and the ocean, you get one less resource than if you were on only land.”

“Is it worth it?” Aryll pushes, chewing her lip. He should tell her not to do that.

Linkle shrugs. “Depends really. It can be a lifesaver, or it can ruin you. Depends on how you play your cards.”

“And speaking of playing cards!” He’ll let Aryll be tonight, she’s not hurting herself so it should be fine. “Here are your purchasing menus!” He hands out the reference tiles to the two younger, in their chosen colors. He doesn’t grab any for himself or Linkle though since they don’t really need them. “You can trade resource cards for more buildings and roads, or upgrade the buildings you already have into cities. These tell you what resources and how many of them you need to do that, and how many points you get for each one.” The rest is self-explanatory, and the kids nod, apparently already catching on.

His sister grins. “Now, Wind, place your house and road. Once we’ve all placed one, we get to set out a second one wherever we want.”

“What about the shield cards?” Their youngest holds up the deck of painted cards, backed with the image of a round shield. “How do we get those?”

“They’re called development cards,” he explains, taking them and setting them beside the board, carefully, so they don’t scatter. “You can get them by giving up a sheep card, wheat, and some ore. They allow special moves, extra points, or sometimes, if you get the monopoly card, you can steal all of a single type of resource card from everyone else.”

“Everyone?”

“Me, Linkle, and Wind, yes.”

“Sweet. I want that one!”

He chuckles, tugging at her ear as well, a little gentler than with her brother. “There’s only two of those ones, pumpkin, so chances are slim for most games, but I like your enthusiasm.”

She takes that news with a shrug, easy as can be but no doubt already looking forwards to the chaos she could cause by robbing the lot of them. It’s easy to miss with her sweet face and big blue eyes but the younger of his two charges is just as much a terror as her older brother, if not more so on some days.

Wind places his houses, and the rest place their second ones, and then with a quick review, and a reminding that “cities” double earnings- because he’d forgotten to mention it until Wind asked why they mattered at all- they start playing.

Taylor Family Rule’s state that youngest and ladies go first, but also that, when that becomes a source of contention (as the only brother among six sisters, he did kick up a fuss on occasion about being last every time) then all roll dice for the highest number, and the winner goes first. Maybe out of pity for him, Linkle elects to call for the second option, but it doesn’t matter, because Aryll rolls an eleven anyways. Luckily though, he’s second after her, something she’s quick to cheer about.

The kids catch on quick. And much like the cursed game that is Monopoly, it’s not long before the wheedling tones and puppy eyes start turning on him, although Linkle opts for the more direct option of threatening him, point blank. His sister knows, just as well as he does, that weakness such as one sees in those who crumble to cute faces, is a quick path to defeat. Aryll and Wind are cute, but they’re not cute enough to make him budge If anything, just to have him teasing them and reaching out to tickle their sides until they’re screeching at him to stop.

As is his habit with Catan, as something of the family champion, Warriors put’s every resource into expanding his territory, building out roads to block the others from building outwards at all, which, unfortunately for Wind, works all too well against the older of his cousins. Linkle, on the other hand, is too used to him, and is building out from two locations, meanwhile Aryll quietly builds circles around her favorite pieces, long winding roads that circle back on themselves, and while that means he’s cut off from her space, he’s not too worried about her out-building him either.

And then Wind manages to settle a house in a pasture, and sheep enter his fold and he starts trading for development cards.

Really, they should have expected the kid would take unlimited delight in controlling the knight-thief (they have compromised with that horrendous name). Actually, the fact that he keeps rolling sevens would imply that the thief, too, has an affinity for Wind, something that makes the rest of them all suffer exceedingly.

Another seven is rolled, and when Wind’s knight-thief lands on Linkle’s only source of brick (arguably the most in demand resource in this particular game) his twin sister starts glaring. “No.”

“Yes.” Wind replies, smugly reaching over.

A hand blocks his access to her cards, splayed over to try and protect them. “Wind.”

“Linkle.” A bright flashing grin that says he knows he’s won.

Warriors and Aryll share a look, and, while the two are fussing at each other, trade a few cards. He’s finally established the longest road, effectively blocking Aryll on one side of the board, opposite from her sibling, and surrounding the smaller of Linkle’s settlements so that she can’t build out and towards anything on that side of the wall. In a way, he and Aryll have established a truce as a result of his ‘protection’, but Linkle and Wind are beginning to go at each others’ throats.

He trades a sheep to his youngest cousin in return for more wheat. Might as well start converting settlements to cities, and looking at Aryll’s little pile of cards, he imagines Wind is soon to be challenged for his right to control the thief-knight.

“Child, I will end you.”

Wind smiles sweetly, fluttering his lashes a bit at the woman. It reminds him of how Legend reacts when he’s especially pissed. “Brick please!”

There is only one brick in Linkle’s deck of cards. A overwhelming amount of sheep and wheat fill her hand, but tragically, her forest tile has been blocked frequently, and no one is trading her ore.

That’s the downside, he muses as he slips Aryll another sheep, if you don’t build quickly, you lose fast, and really, Linkle ought to know that by now. He taps silently at one of the littlest’s ore this time, which she gives him readily.

Aryll, unlike him, had built around the tiles she’d chosen in the beginning, and built thickly. She may not have a twisting road like he does that blocks others one way or another, but she’s got ore and wheat coming out of her ears, and ran out of city pieces ages ago.

Technically, the game should have ended when one of them reached ten points, but Taylors never play that way. They play until overwhelming defeat is left to all but one. It’s more fun that way, he muses, sitting back, now out of his chair but resting his back against it all the same. Aryll, predictably, settles against him, squirrelling her way under his arm and propping herself against his shoulder. He doesn’t mind in the least, hand lifting to toy absently with her hair while their siblings bicker.

“Do you want me to fix your pigtails?” They’re coming loose.

She shakes her head, humming a bit. “No, Imma just pull ‘em out later anyways.”

Right, because it’s getting late. He glances down at his watch, it’s 8:38. It should be okay, the kids usually get their homework done before dinner, and they can stay up a bit later tonight, it being a Friday and all. If anything, they’ll be waking up just fine in the morning and it will be them hauling his ass out of bed in the morning!

Ignorant of their exchange, of cards or words, Linkle continues to try and convince Wind to take literally anything but her precious bricks. “You’re killing me here! I barely got any building done!”

“Well,” Wind returns, fingers inching forwards while royal blue eyes are fixed on his face, “you should have thought about that before you became a peasant!” The card is whipped away, and just as quickly, deposited in the bank as a new orange house finds its way onto the board.

Linkle groans, head sinking. “Why me?”

“I don’t know,” the voice of their youngest is muddled with a wide yawn. “Warriors warned you, but you didn’t listen. Looks to me like this is your fault.”

Aryll is officially his favorite.

“I give,” his twin sighs, looking at her desolate kingdom and meager profits before glancing up at them. “Another win for you, I guess, Link.”

“No,” Aryll’s smile is wide as she blinks innocently up at the older girl. “I win.”

Wait, what? Warriors glances over, counting. He has less cities, yes, but he has the longest road and more settlements and-

“I have the biggest army, and the most cities, and-” a development card is flashed, and then another, and three more! “Five bonus points.”

“So you do.” He finds himself saying, blinking dumbly down at her where she’s still nestled against him, smile innocent and devious. He’s not sure if he’s feeling more betrayed or proud of her right now.

Linkle is giggling like a mad woman. “Oh this is golden! Link lost Catan to the baby! On her first game!” You’d think she was the winner from the way she crows. “This is the best! Absolute best! Wind, you’re forgiven, now help me take a photo to memorialize this moment in family history!”

Despite anything he says (and really, they’re toke complaint’s anyways) they do take a photo of them, the board, and Linkle’s wild smile as Aryll flaunts and preens before the camera like any good Taylor would. They take a few more, funny ones of the boys cow-towing to the tiny champion as she drowns in Warriors’ recliner, and all sorts of the like. Honestly, silly photos are basically required in this household.

It’s only when Aryll can’t keep smiling past her yawns that he decides bed-time is in order. “Linkle, Wind, you’re on cleanup.”

“You lost too!”

“I did,” he stoops, scooping up their winner in his arms and smiling as she comes willingly, arms wrapping tight around his neck, “but it’s the winners bed-time, and as winner, she deserves to be tucked in nicely, not ignored. So have fun!” And without further ado, he heads down the hall, eating the losers in the dust. Or rather- leaving the losers amid the tiny wooden houses and cardboard tiles. Eh…it doesn’t have the same ring to it. He likes leaving them in the dust more.

#opera house au #asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu wind #lu linkle #lu aryll #girl dad warriors #pry it from my cold dead hands #this man lives for his kids #cousins #same thing #lol

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hanasnx · 7 months

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i've loved the whole starlet reader little bits and bobs recently. she's my babygirl, i have posters of her up on my walls and her playboy cover under my bed <33

i know the au! is hayden-based, but my brain circled around anakin for this one.

in my mind the prequels take place in what would be our 1940s or 1950s as the ogs reflected closer the political context of the 60s.

which lends itself for a golden-age starlet reader, and i wanted to share a thought! ITS SO LONG IM SO SORRY ;;

-🥩

with a war raging on, people need some sort of distraction as to not go insane with the politics and bloodshed of it all - an escapism the entertainment industry is more than happy to provide. anything you could possibly want to escape your own life for a little while, they have.

i like to imagine each clone legion has has their own taste when it comes down to their poison of choice - the 302th are very into the thrillers of an acclaimed silver fox actor. the 127th favour comedies regardless of whoever stars in them.

the 501st claimed starlet!reader as their girl. that's quite literally how she's known in the clones barracks, "the 501st's girl".

the legion is very familiar with their girl and her filmography. even though not all of her repertoire is romance, that's the one genre they indulge in the most.

in the two hours they get to spend with her, they get to live the romance of a lifetime they may never get to experience otherwise. she's their forbidden lover, their wife, their temptress.

their girl, really.

she's special to them, even if in a parasocial way. it's a tragic thought to think how many of them passed with a picture of her on the windshield of their ship.

maybe that's why anakin agreed to watch a holo-film of hers with the 401st. it's important to them, so it's important to him. a little bonding time.

he just didn't expect to become so quickly enraptured with you, too - not in the same way his clone comrades are, their girl is the vessel for their fantasies. to anakin? you're his fantasy.

i doubt he cares much for your movies, i think he prefers your interviews and commercials. he has a few favorite frames he comes back to often.

he lingers on them more than he should - a parasocial relationship *hardly* counts as an attachment anyways.

considering how most holo-projections are 3D, i'm sure he's already familiar with your form, from head to toes.

but no projection can compare to seeing the real thing for the first time - you were actually real? he couldn't wrap his head around that idea.

i mean, you looked real when you arrived in a pretty little white-blue outfit, accompanied by palpatine, (who ofc organized the whole thing). you were all smiles and waves, clearly trying to make contact with as many eyes as you could before you went onstage.

you sounded real when you yelped and giggled when you almost tripped on the slippery stairs when you were headed center to deliver a small speech to your boys (as you so lovingly called them).

but what really almost sold him on the fact that you were real, was feeling you. physically you were meters away, but with his connection to the force? you were almost breathing down his neck with how close he felt your force presence. the very essence of what makes you, you.

you were singing your heart out up there - oblivious to how you intoxicated almost all of anakin's senses by simply existing in the same space as him.

he just really needed to confirm you tasted real, to be completly sold on your existence as something beyond a hallucination of his haunted mind.

WHAT THE FUCK

look i dont like long inbox msgs bcos its rly difficult for me to focus on them and all that etc etc whatever whatever but this.. this i loved reading. i want more of it. i want to hear more about the 501st's girl and how ppl joke about it "oh hows your lil girlfriend??" as if shes the collective gf of this division sldfj. i wonder how anakin gets closer, do you feel drawn to him too? if so, is it cos hes pretty or is it a magical thing? are the 501st jealous or playfully jealous over anakins success in bagging you??

my cheeks slowly heated up the entire time i read it i rly enjoyed it omg

#🥩anon #starlet!reader #anakin #thanks for the msg!!#indy shoots the shit

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dextixer · 9 months

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"Why criticize RT and not company X?" And why this whatabaustism is stupid.

Ever since ALL of the nearly 100 stories of RT abuses after Kdins story came out i have been hearing the same old excuses, the same old arguments and the same old bullshit in defense of RT. So many fans of RWBY keep saying "There are worse companies!" or in various ways try to point out some imagined "hypocricy" over choosing to criticize and not support RT. Recently i have read one too many of such opinions and decided to make a handy "guide" or a refutation of sorts to all of such bullshit and why its bullshit.

Logical Fallacy

Stop me if you have heard this one "RT is bad, sure, but Disney is worse! Why are you going after RT and not disney!?". I would imagine most of us have seen simmilar statements being made in defense of RT. This is something that is called "Whatabautism", its a form of a logical fallacy (Basically, shitty way of arguing) that is meant to excuse one wrong with another, perceivably bigger wrong. Its like a child smashing a window and then when caught saying "But my brother set a barn on fire!". Both are bad, but this fallacy is meant to excuse one by the perceived "smallness" of the act in comparison to the other.

Of course, to any person who has cleared the age of 10, it is pretty clear why such an argument is bullshit. Because a bad thing still remains bad even if someone else has done worse. The same goes with RT.

Is RT an uniquelly bad company in the entertainment industry? Fuck no. Disney does performative activism ALL the time as a key example. If we look at Holywood we can see that it is INFESTED with sexual predators of various kinds, for fucks sakes, Ezra Miller could run around on a crime spree and receive no punishment because they were protected by their showrunners. The entertainment industry is INFESTED with all kinds of bullshit like this.

That does not make what RT does good, does not excuse their actions. And does not make them above reproach.

Especially not since they are a PART of WB and we know for a FACT that them coming under WB Umbrella actually made them PAY their staff properly. Which is very strange, dont you all think? That the big evil corporation of WB somehow STILL made the work conditions in RT better? That reflects worse on RT than it will ever on WB.

Projection

This whatabautism is even more riddiculous once one realizes that it comes from a place of projection.

This is but one of many such cases of projection. The fans of RWBY will often talk about how those who criticize RT and RWBY should shut up because they also consume other media and some of them even go as far as create conspiracy theories that RWDE(Critics) actually secretly buy RWBY merch!

Of course, they cant prove any of that shit. What critics of the show can prove for a fact however is that NONE of these RWBY fans give a single solitary shit about what RT has done. After all, the BB merch sold out like hotcakes and many people keep calling for people to support RT financially to get V10 greenlit.

This being one of the examples. It is the fans constantly shouting about people to continue to consoom as much as possible and spend as much money as possible.

For those people to then project onto critics of the show and create conspiracies that the critics are the ones financially supporting RT is just silly.

Especially when...

Piracy

Piracy exists. This entire diatribe of "supporting" other companies presupposes that people cant just... Pirate. A good example is this message i received not too long ago.

And my answer was very simple to this person. I dont support Anime companies, Disney or any other entertainment corporation like this. Because Piracy exists. The last time i was in a Movie Theater was watching The Force Awakens in 2015. The last time i bought Anime or Anime themed merch? Never. I dont have Netflix, i dont have Disney+, i dont pay even a single cent to streaming companies, entertainment corporations or shitters like that, because i have websites on the internet for that.

Because it is THAT easy to avoid supporting shitty companies.

The same goes for Video Games. When Blizzard exposes came i dropped WoW and all Blizzard games. Currently i mostly play Indie titles or titles from companies i know arent dirty. Kenshi for example was made by one dude, Vampire Survivors, Baldurs Gate 3, Darktide, Underrail, Battle Brothers, Metal Hellsinger, Disco elysium, the list goes on. Most of these games were made by either small teams or single dudes.

When RT was first exposed, many people discussed Piracy as a form of protest. And so many people revealed just how little they know about the concept. Some of them tried and still try to pull the "Well, you cant avoid suffering under capitalism" kind of arguments. They are partially true, but in the end are wrong because...

Entertainment is one of the easiest things to drop to less human suffering. We all need food, water, housing. But for entertainment we as a generation are spoilt for choice, millions of books, fanfictions, animations, games, created for our enjoyment. Many made without suffering involved, and those that were are easily accessable without supporting the companies that created them.

You can hate RT

So, im going to finish with this. Hate RT with your entire heart if you so wish. These accusations of hypocricy? They are all bullshit. They are made by people who dont give a shit about people suffering, as long as they get their new fix of RWBY. They are made by people who will project onto you all of the shit THEY are doing.

So hate RT as any other shitty entertainment corporation and the leadership (Including those in CRWBY) that KNEW all of this shit was happening, and either hid it/suspected it (Ryan Heywood) or/and did NOTHING about it.

And these people trying to stop you from hating RT for GOOD REASON are just doing this because they LIKE RT.

It would be one thing if they rightfully called people while also hating RT. But they dont.

(This post can be found under the same name on Reddit)

#rwby #rwde #anti rooster teeth

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issie-https · 11 months

Text

𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑰𝑪𝑺, 𝑲𝑰𝑹𝑲 𝑯𝑨𝑴𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑻

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝐾𝑖𝑟𝑘 𝐻𝑎𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑡 𝑋 𝐴𝐹𝐴𝐵!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕: 𝑁𝑜

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐾𝑖𝑟𝑘 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑁𝑜𝑛𝑒

𝑨/𝒏: 𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝐼'𝑚 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠, 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑤.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 612

Me and Kirk had decided to go to the local shopping strip and have a day out. With Metallica, tours, recording and more, it's fairly rare that me and Kirk have more than three or four hours together. I'm fine with that because he's doing something he's good at and that he loves but we do miss spending candid time together.

I missed kissing his lips, running my fingers through his hair, listening to him talk about anything and everything. He missed holding me, looking into my eyes, breathing in each others scent.

So days like this where we wander aimlessly, looking around places that peak our interests and spending time together were always cherished. We had just left a record store where we'd bought a new vinyl of Abba's '76 album — our last Arrival vinyl was fairly scratched and made a weird sound during 'Fernando'.

"Y/n, look!" Kirk said, pointing to a comic/collectible store. "You already have like a billion comics, we're running out of room," I laughed. "Please," he begged, squeezing my hand twice. "Fine, but we're just looking," I replied.

I wasn't even lying, almost every room in our cottage had a bunch of comics in. Yes, even the bathrooms. Kirk was a huge geek when it came to comics and superhero figures. I can't say much though as my collection of Dungeons and Dragons merch was also starting to fill the house.

That's actually how we met. I was in a collectible store while looking for some new d&d collectibles and Kirk accidentally walked into me. He was buying a superhero comic and was sort of surprised that I was looking at D&D stuff.

"Look!" He said, pointing to a Marvel comic on the shelf. "You want it don't you?" I asked, looking up at his expression. The only way I can describe it is like a child seeing sweets or presents. "Very much," he replied, picking it up. "Fine, but just this one," I said, handing him the 75 cents for it.

"Can we read it when we get home?" He asked as we left the store. "If you insist," I replied, scanning the strip for a restaurant. My eyes landed on the McDonald's at the end. "Food!" I pointed out. "Thank god, I'm so hungry," Kirk groaned, dragging me to the restaurant.

✧༺༻✧

We arrived back home and I put the new vinyl in the crate we had decorated. "Cola?" I asked, peeking round the corner. He just mumbled an 'mhm' while flicking through the thin pages of the comic.

I took the glass bottle over to him and placed it on the table while flicking the tv on. "Any good?" I asked, swinging my legs over his. "Very," he replied, pulling me closer to his side. "It looks exactly like the last Spider-Man comic you got," I laughed, watching the movie which happened to be Dirty Dancing. "It doesn't if you actually read it and not drool over Patrick Swayze," he rolled his eyes.

I was in fact not drooling over Swayze, thank you very much. I just glanced at my adorable boyfriend who was engrossed in his comic. "I only have eyes for you, dear," I cooed, kissing his cheek. "That's cheesy, but nice to know," he laughed, kissing the side of my head.

I laid my head on his shoulder, soaking up these moments with him. I breathed in his scent and nuzzled into his side as he put his arm around my shoulders. His faint smell of cigarettes, cologne and cola lingering in my nose while I drifted off to sleep to the soft sound of Hungry Eyes.

#metallica #metallica imagines #kirk hammett #kirk hammett imagine #lars ulrich #james hetfield #cliff burton #jason newsted #fanfic #writer #author #issie https

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husbandomail · 7 months

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second part to this post!

At first, it’s tough. Despite his good intentions the entire way, N was a public face for Team Plasma— there are reasons he went into hiding for two years, after all. That’s not to say he dislikes you— obviously the opposite is true, if he wanted you to be the second Hero— but N is now well aware that he’s different from the world around him. He’s not entirely sure how to work his way into a regular life; he’s not sure a place exists for him at all.

N does his best to appear ‘normal’ when the two of you are in public, but it can be difficult, because he missed out on so many experiences being trapped in his castle for his entire youth. He’s never been out to eat before; when you bring him to the Striaton triplets’ restaurant, he stares at the menu for ages with wide eyes, and when you assure him he can order anything he practically goes wild. He orders all sorts of sweet drinks, taking a few sips of each one before choosing something else; even though he has several plates of his own on his side of the table, he’s making eyes at your food too, hoping you’ll offer a bite of everything.

Now that he’s free, he wants to see and experience as much as possible, to make up for the loss of his younger years. It’s incredibly comforting to have you at his side through all that; he does feel eternally out of place, so he appreciates the fact that you’re so gentle and understanding with him. As his sisters told you, N is innocent— smart as he is, he keeps falling for clickbait articles online, and he responds politely to every scam email he gets. You bring him to PokeStar Studios and he talks through every movie. The two of you pass a street performer and he empties his pockets into their hat.

N remains fairly introverted, but even then, he falls completely in love with Nimbasa City in particular. Some of his favorite outings are when the two of you spend all night in the theme park, racing through the different arcades, watching as many different sports games as possible in a short amount of time. N is better at arcade games than you’d expected— it isn’t until after he’s thoroughly kicked your ass that he informs you he’s been playing these games for quite some time. You never stood a chance. And, naturally, your nights always end at the Ferris wheel; from the top of the wheel, with you at his side, he finally feels like he’s home.

Red:

Personal headcanon here but I think Red is only selectively mute. He does know sign language, but at this point he’s so adept with his body language that he doesn’t really need anything else. Red is only comfortable speaking to select people under very specific circumstances— and you’re one of them, because your Championship over the Elite Four earned you a quiet but genuine “Congrats” when the two of you were finally left alone. To other people it might seem rude, but you know how big a deal that one word is for him.

Unsurprisingly, his favorite hangouts tend to be quiet ones; he did choose to spend all that time alone on Mt. Silver, after all. Red isn’t really one for things like parties, although he’ll show up for a few minutes to show his support— he’s much more content inviting you to travel with him for a bit as he makes his rounds through Kanto again. He may be hard to read, but it does make him happy to have someone to curl up at the campfire with.

Being so quiet, Red is an acts-of-service type. You wake up every morning on your shared travels to find that he’s already made breakfast for you both; he’s also picked up some surprising domestic skills while by himself for so long, so if your favorite jacket gets torn while dodging wild Pokémon, he’ll stitch it back up for you as you catch your breath. He’s well-acclimated to walking the long routes of Kanto, so if you’re getting tired, he’s quick to offer one of his Pokémon to carry you until you reach the next town.

Red’s favorite thing to do as friends, though— battle together. It’s not a secret and it’s not a surprise. The only spontaneous part of his personality, he loves trying to catch you off-guard by launching Pikachu into a Volt Tackle, giving you a split-second to pull out your own partner Pokémon and devolve into an all-out brawl. He also loves multi battles as partners, because the two of you silently understand each other so well, there’s no way your dream team could ever lose.

Riley:

In general, Riley comes off as a fairly serious young man— but that’s usually just because he’s so busy. As the caretaker for Iron Island, a place where many people come to train or catch wild Pokémon, he typically has his hands full. Most of his rare free time is just spent at home catching up on chores or resting; he’s thrilled whenever you swing by to visit, even if the two of you don’t do anything spectacular. He’s very much a homemaker type, so he loves having someone around to chat while he cooks dinner, or maybe the two of you can curl up and watch a movie together.

Riley is always someone you can go to for advice. He doesn’t seem much older than you, but he’s wiser than you’d expect for someone with such a pretty face; if you’re having trouble raising a specific breed of Pokémon, or if you’re struggling with figuring out another friendship, he’s always willing to listen and offer suggestions. He’s very level-headed and logical, so he’s perfect to bounce ideas and worries off of, with his miraculous ability to calm you down.

Despite being so rational, Riley also loves to tease; his ability to sense auras means he can read you incredibly well, and as soon as he’s said something that gets you flustered, he just keeps going. It could be playful flirting, or it could be implying that your mother showed him your baby photos— either way, he’s hilariously amused by the way your face turns bright red. Even if you’re good at keeping a straight face, he can sense the way your emotions flare, and that’s enough of a reaction for him.

Every once in awhile, you’re able to get Riley off Iron Island. On those rare days, he loves spending time in the Canalave library, although he has all the mythology books memorized and will recite them to you whenever you ask. He’s another one who loves teaming up with you for battles; he’s always excited to show you the new Pokémon he’s raised, so the two of you become regulars at the Battle Tower. You’re such a good team that eventually they ask you to show up a bit less often, give other people a chance to win. Oops.

#pokemon #trainer red #trainer riley #n harmonia #headcanons #imagines

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