#<- how many main tags do I dare to use

[supernovaa-remnant]

Ad Aeternum

Description:

Ad Aeternum: To Eternity "Like humanity finding life on Europa, he muses. Just as life is an inevitability wherever there is liquid water and heat, perhaps there's an inevitability about him and Dream, too."

Tags:

Rating: Teen Fandom: Dream SMP Relationships: Dream/Wilbur Soot, Dream & Wilbur Soot, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Wilbur Soot, Dream, JSchlatt, Karl Jacobs, George Not Found, Background & Cameo Characters

here she is!! my pride and joy, and the labor of my love: Ad Aeternum <3

(it's a locked fic, so if you'll need to be logged into an ao3 account to view it)

[butwhatifidothis]

I need the people who look at posts talking about Wyll's treatment in both the actual game and especially the fandom and respond with "but i don't like him and I think he's boring" to know that shutting the fuck up is 100% the better option 100% of the time. Him being the only origin character to not have at last 10 hours of content and the existence of mods that literally whitewash him and his dad - among everything else wrong with how Wyll is treated - are not suddenly okay because you, personally, as an individual, don't find him interesting, and your personal individual feelings about him are irrelevant to the issues surrounding his treatment in the bg3 community at large, so like. Stop barging in with your unwanted, unhelpful opinion

[aliceramblez]

Dating The BB League Elite Four + Kieran 💕

Tags: GN! Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Teal Mask & Indigo Disk Spoilers!

A/N: After finally getting dragged into the Pokémon rabbit hole, I honestly couldn't resist in doing one of these for my babies! Scarlet/Violet is my very first Pokémon experience, so hopefully I did these characters justice ^^

Feel free to follow my main @taruchinator & leave a request for future HCs!

Crispin 🔥

He's such a dork and incredibly quirky but don't you worry, he'll definitely be the one to ask you out first, no matter how many attempts it takes. Not like you'd say no to begin with.

As a partner, he's the kind of guy who would always try to cheer you up and have you in a happy mood, because when you're happy, he's happy! Anything from compliments, to jokes, to just giving you lots of affection.

Which brings us to the fact that he's huge on PDA. And the funny thing is he doesn't even realize he's doing it—he'll lean on you when you're showing him something in your Rotom Phone, rubbing circles on your palm when you're talking about your day, placing his chin on your shoulder while talking to the other club members—this man is all over you.

During your stay at Blueberry Academy, don't you dare spend your precious money on the cafeteria, he's got you covered. He'll ask you and learn about your tastes, creating new recipes and concoctions just for you, hoping to surprise you with something better and nutritious every day!

If you had a long day of training and doing BBQs, Crispin always comes by and makes sure you had a meal. And you better not be lying to him.

“Man, you've been out all day! Did you even have lunch?”

“.... I had a granola bar.”

“HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?”

It's safe to say that Koraidon/Miraidon adores him, and even makes you question whether it's you or your Pokémon who's dating him.

After you started going out, Crispin now makes sure to carry sandwiches with him at all times. Mostly for your oversized lizard boy, but also for you in case you need a quick snack to recharge. The legendary Pokémon is quick to thank him with licks and constant slobbering which always leaves the red-head a mess, but he tries to not let it bother him for your sake.

Whenever you guys aren't training, you'll be in your dorm rooms cooking and having laughs with your Pokémon over how clumsy they can be in the kitchen.

Overall, a sweet and supportive goofball who'll make sure you're always smiling and never have an empty stomach!

Amarys 👓

Obviously Amarys isn't the best at conveying her emotions. It doesn't mean she doesn't care, she just has a hard time figuring them out sometimes! Which is why it's incredibly strange to her when she starts having these weird sensations whenever she's around you.

She feels happier, her stomach gets all jumbled when you compliment her, and her minds always finds a way to drift back to you no matter what she's doing.

She ends up asking Carmine about it, who immediately gets all giddy and explains to her that she might have a crush. Amarys is surprised, but not against the idea. It makes sense in retrospect—cue bestie Carmine giving her pointers and ideas to try and confess to you.

Unfortunately it's all a bit too convoluted or cheesy for the Steel-Type user's liking, so she ends up doing it her own way.

One day after club activities are over, she asks if you can stay a bit longer to talk. “After much deliberation, it would seem that I have caught romantic feelings for you. I propose a casual outing so we can discuss these in further detail. Do you agree?”

It doesn't take long for you two to start going out.

Amarys shows affection through small gestures that may not seem like a lot to others, but you know they're huge steps for her. Sharing her food when you're hungry, giving you advice on how to raise your Pokémon properly, helping you study subjects you aren't that good at—the list goes on.

PDA isn't her strong suit at all. Physical affection in general isn't something she's used to, and she's forever grateful that you don't push her to do things out of her comfort zone. She tries though, and will do things like brush her hand against yours or even give you a hug whenever she's feeling bold.

To an outsider you're both an unconventional couple, but manage to make it work with trust and constant communication. Give her some time and she'll warm up to you.

Lacey 🧚‍♀️

A sweet cutie who doesn't really change her attitude towards you even after you start dating, since she's always loved having you around. The two of you also confess at the same time, which leaves you as a pair of giggling messes at the irony of it.

Is your number one cheerleader when it comes to school academics. You may not be an official Blueberry student, but that doesn't mean you should be slacking in your classes! If you don't understand the material, don't you worry, she's already prepared a slideshow presentation going over it point by point. Will also reward you with kisses if you pay attention!

Lacey isn't huge on PDA either since she thinks it's unnecessary, but when it's just the two of you, she will never let go. You have successfully replaced Granbull as her favorite pillow of choice, since whenever you two have time off and she's tired, you'll probably take a snooze under a tree in the Coastal Biome.

When you get to meet her father, she's actually a bit nervous since she's never thought of dating before finishing school, but you try and be brave and reassure her that you'll try your best to give a good impression. He thinks you're alright, but gives you the good old father talk to make sure you won't hurt his little girl.

Will find ways to dot your Legendary lizard ride with gifts and affection since she thinks he's just too darn stinking cute, but don't worry, she still thinks you're the cutest!

Since Lacey's constantly worrying about things getting done around the League Club, it's your duty as her partner to get her to relax from time to time. You'll do your best by offering to share responsibilities and reminding her that breaks are very much needed.

“Sweetie it's nighttime, you can finish in the morning. I'm tired and need cuddleeeess.”

“Just one more page and I'll be done—”

“Please Ms. Lacey! I need your cuteness to have a good night's sleep!”

“F-Fine, I'm coming! Flattering me to get what you want is just not right, ya know?”

Truly an iconic duo.

Drayton 🐉

Let's get one thing straight: this man doesn't confess—heck, he doesn't even ask you out! One day he just has his arms around you and plants a kiss on your cheek claiming that he'll follow your every command, all with a cheeky grin on his face. You're more than welcome to punch him for it and he'll still come crawling back.

Like most things in his life, Drayton takes your relationship slow and steady, not really wanting to push your boundaries (unless he wants to tease you) and having no rush to progress things. He's just a chill guy who wants to claim you before anyone else does.

Don't be mistaken though, this doesn't mean he doesn't care. You'd be surprised how much he looks out for you, almost borderline overprotective in some cases. After everything that happened with Terapagos in Area Zero, he's constantly making sure you have strong Pokémon, supplies, and good company to survive the crazy adventures you get mixed up in.

You guys' ideal date is spending time together in the dorms after school hours, kicking back and relaxing with a movie or just talking about stuff that happened during the day. He's surprisingly a very good listener.

It's from these laid back conversations that he gets ideas for random gifts to get you. Did you need a new pair of gloves cause the old ones ripped? Some are waiting in the club room. You're running low on potions? A box full of them appears on your doorstep. Want to visit your friends in Paldea but can't find the time? Turns out Drayton took over your assignments for the day so you're free to go!

You're also the only person he'll allow himself to be tutored by. Will literally not listen to anyone unless it's you. Which is why you try to make sure the material is easy for him to digest + it's not boring typical schoolwork, but something he'll actually enjoy.

“Okay! Today we're going over math! Let's have a battle in the Polar Biome so you can see how probability applies in critical hits and such.”

“Aww, my honey is catering to my needs? Aren't you the sweetest thing?”

“No kisses until we're done, Drayton.”

“Alright, aye aye boss!”

He's an idiot, but he's your idiot.

Kieran 🍎

This boy has had a crush on you ever since you first met in Kitakami, but never had the courage to say anything since he was so shy. Now however, he doesn't say anything because he feels like he doesn't have the right to.

After everything he's put you through—from accusing you of stealing Ogerpon, to fighting you in an all out battle, to straight up putting you and everyone else in danger just because he wanted a chance at getting a Legendary Pokémon—Kieran doesn't think he deserves to be your friend, let alone your partner.

Carmine is there as his wingwoman though, cheering him on and telling him how much you appreciate him and clearly return his feelings.

And so, mustering as much courage as he can, he asks if you'll trade Pokémon with him. When you agree, he brings out an Applin, which immediately leaves you blushing but also spreads a huge smile on your face. The two of you officially start dating.

Kieran does is absolute best to try and be the boyfriend you deserve, even though it's his first relationship and he has no idea what he's doing half the time. The members of the League Club are surprised at first, but ultimately support you guys all the way!

You spend time together sharing battle strategies and having your Pokémon playing to try and get along. Turns out Ogerpon and Hydrapple become fast friends by the end of a particular play date, much to your delight.

He's not good at PDA, like, at all. He's still that shy and timid kid from Kitakami underneath it all, so he struggles with initiating affection even when it's just the two of you. You're the one who has to start the hugs and kisses, leaving him like a puddle of goo under your grasp.

Nightmares still plague him occasionally, mostly revolving the journey to Area Zero and how it all could've turned out for the worst if by some chance Terapagos decided to attack someone else. Maybe even you. If you're with him when they happen, you'll hold him tight and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he calms down, or if he calls you to make sure you're okay, you'll stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep again.

“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...”

“It's okay Kieran. We're both okay, and that's all that matters.”

You two are the power couple that Blueberry Academy never expected, but deep down, you're just a pair of dorks who fawn over each other on a daily basis.

[julietsbody]

girlnextdoor

( chapter one :

studyme.png )

words: 3,525

tags: 18+!!!! mdni , camgirl ! reader , camming, sex worker ! reader , masturbation , falling in love , body worship , religious / greek imagery , voyeurism, semi ! sub coriolanus , fantasizing

p.s : this is also on my ao3! ( divider by i92-93 )

a/n : i don’t know how i managed to make this an emotional story with greek references, but i did it somehow LOLL hope u enjoy!!

PROLOGUE : COMPETITION .

festus had an irrational mouth, he had dared coriolanus to do stupid things before, like asking girls out, or to have one night stands with them. it was awful, coriolanus hated being around festus because he was like a fly buzzing around in his eardrums, circling around his head and refusing to leave no matter how many times he swipes at it. coriolanus wasn’t the only victim unfortunately, sejanus was the main one for festus, because sejanus was weak, pliant, and could easily be peer pressured into anything.

“i dare you to ask her out,” he points to a girl in the library, a girl with clemensia and arachne.

dear fucking god, save us all, this is going to be a crucification performed in the middle of the academy’s library.

“you’re joking, right?” sejanus coughs out an awkward laugh.

festus’ eyes narrow, a dangerous seriousness, “no, it’s not that hard.”

“why don’t you do it then?” coriolanus slices in the conversation.

“i have a girlfriend,” festus shrugs, “can’t.”

coriolanus barks out a bitter laugh, “who would date you?”

“okay, that’s fucking rude, and she’s hella hot, so fuck off, please,” festus rolls his eyes, “go on, sejanus!”

sejanus frowns, festus was talking so loud that the girls were now looking at them, with their judgemental, pristine stares.

so he sighs, and raises to a stand, making coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he knew sejanus was weak, impulsive, but not to this level, “you aren’t actually gonna do it, are you?”

“i am,” sejanus sounds confident, but he isn’t. poor, sweet sejanus.

what a trainwreck, like something you try to hard to look away from, but you just can’t. your eyes follow him as he moves over to the girls, a small smile curving his lips when he finally approaches them, an opposite to their sharp eyes. clemensia’s head tips to the side, “yes, sejanus?”

sejanus inhales, trying to remind himself that he does have a way with words, so just use that.

his eyes move down to you, “i was wondering if—“

“no,” you respond quickly.

he swallows, “okay.”

and festus is laughing, god it’s more of a cackle than a laugh.

but the girls don’t laugh, they know festus’ game, if anything they hate festus more than any of the poor boys that are dared to ask them out for dates.

“who’s your girlfriend?” coriolanus asks, having a feeling that he’s lying.

festus’ laughter immediately calms down, “she’s a pornstar, and she’s like super in love with me.”

“does she even know you exist?” coriolanus scoffs, “‘m sure she’s just doing her job.”

“shut the fuck up,” he rolls his eyes, “you’re just mad you could never get with a girl like mine.”

“let me see her,” coriolanus offers, and of course, festus pulls up a picture of a girl who hardly shows her face.

you can only see her lips, and from then on she’s in very tight and revealing clothing, coriolanus stares at the picture for a second, then looks at festus.

festus smirks cockily, “hot, right?”

hot, is that all he views his so called girlfriend as?

“you can’t even see her face,” he confronts, and festus rolls his eyes.

“that’s not the point—“

“then what is?”

“her videos, dude, they’re so good,” festus’ voice becomes a loudly hushed whisper now.

coriolanus’ jaw ticks, “you sure she even knows you?”

“okay, she doesn’t— but like—“ he groans, “why don’t you try to get her to notice you, asshole?”

“i don’t watch porn,” coriolanus shrugs simply.

festus coughs out a laugh, “yeah, say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

coriolanus, in his own defense, should be saying that it was curiosity. at first it was, yes, pure innocent, unshielded curiosity. then it became what it truly was underneath all of his guards, admiration. with each video, each picture, it had his teeth gritting. he didn’t want to pay to see your exclusive content at first, but with how little you showed on every other platform, it almost felt necessary. girlnextdoor, what a peculiar name, he was itching to know more about you.

maybe it was the competition festus had set him up for that had him wanting this, coriolanus was never one for porn, or for jerking off. but god, he might now be. it was disgusting, how much his mind raced with every suggestive picture, ones where you teased the contents underneath your bra, or a video where you were taking off your panties but still showing nothing.

he went back to your original website, only to find, in bold letters, LIVE.

live? he swallows thick, cursor moving to click on the maroon enticing him.

the sight that came nearly had him clicking off almost immediately, you had been moved into a cowgirl position, riding a dildo. your moans filled his eardrums almost immediately, each whine, each movement of your hips delivering a squelching sound. he felt like a dehydrated man, throat run dry, tongue devoid of any saliva. aphrodite, in her natural habitat, sex, love, devotion, she is putting herself on display— yet with the camera placed to show everything only from below her nose, she is so hidden at the same time.

he was biting the delicate skin on the inside of his cheek, peaking near the metallic taste, but he didn’t even realize over the heat rushing to his dick. he breathed out, wondering what it would feel like if you were to be on him, with those experienced hips, that body which looks like it was crafted from the gods himself, your pussy swallowing his dick whole—

he clicks off as soon as the thought sears in his mind, he doesn’t need to be thinking of a pornstar like this.

his eyes close for a minute, and all he can see in that darkness is the shape of your body, the bucking of your hips as you ride the dildo, and he sighs.

he should sleep. it’s late.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

INTERLUDE : HAUNTED .

adoration, a statue by stephen abel sinding, made from delicate marble. it depicted a man at a woman’s feet, as she sat upon a pedestal. he was on his knees, eyes staring up at the goddess in front of him, as she sat with her back straight, eyes falling upon the man that worshipped her. he kissed her legs with care, admiration, hands slipping onto her calves as he plants his lips upon her shins. she was gorgeous above him, allowing him to take every part of her into his hold, to kiss her and devote his whole pride to her.

coriolanus swallows thick, he thought that when his eyes moved to a close, his thoughts would dissipate.

they got worse, so, so much worse. they were more vivid now, dirtier, his longing worsening.

he imagined what words would spill from your mouth as your hips swayed on him, he allowed you to take the lead, restraining himself from fucking into you like a desperate man. to be honest, he was desperate, he was needy, the feeling of your puffy walls closing in on him had him almost whimpering himself. a god is no match to his goddess, he will always fall to his knees in front of her, no matter what. coriolanus had pride, surely, but the idea of your clit rubbing against his abdomen as your hips stuttered on him had his pride becoming weak façades.

say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.

fuck you, festus. he was the reason that coriolanus even knew this camgirl existed, the reason for the painful stains on his mind.

festus wouldn’t be so cocky if the girl he calls his girlfriend had coriolanus’ dick in her mouth.

the feeling of your mouth on his dick became vivid as well now, he could see it so clearly, your doe eyes staring up at him through those velvet lashes as your pillow lips move to press sloppy, open - mouthed kisses onto the tip of his cock. you were teasing him, surely, and he couldn’t take it. he would grit out a small plea for you to actually suck him in, and he would feel your lips curl onto his tip, “beg.”

begging, coriolanus always hated the idea of it, he thought it was weak, gross, submissive.

but in this moment, he was so clouded with lust that he didn’t care for the repercussions of a simple please.

“please, just fucking— god, i need—“ he couldn’t even get his words right, it was sweet. your eyebrow cocked at him, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you through dilated pupils and lazy lids. you finally took pity, lips parting further so your tongue could snake out and slide underneath his cock as you take him in finally. the warmth was all too much for coriolanus, wetness, warmth, his fingers move to thread through the weaves of your hair, his bottom lip falling tight underneath his top teeth.

his hips buck ever so slightly, again, desperation. you don’t react though, if anything, you just moaned around him.

no gag reflex? dear god, you’ll be coriolanus’ ruin.

god will not be present in this moment though, as though this is a reenactment of the martyrdom of saint sebastian. arrows shooting at him as he falls to his fate, he was strung up, shot with the painful spears, and left for his death. isn’t that so alike to now? festus had tied him up, fed him stories of this woman and allowed him to fall into sin, then left him for his own demise.

apples began to taste sweeter, even with their poison, as coriolanus finds his hand dipping below his waistband, his long fongers fell along his painful hardness. he mumbled a curse into the gentle air as he finally relieves himself from all of his sins, as of he’s sitting in the confessional of a church, whispering all of his sins to the judgemental priest. the scales tipped as his fingers moved to curl around his cock, fist moving up and down on his length.

the pictures continued, he thought of how he would take care of you first, now if he was the one dominating.

he would go rough, he always loved the idea of fucking someone senseless, making every vein buzz with only pleasure, mind forming thoughts solely of lust. he imagines holding you close as his fingers curl inside of you, he doesn’t push them in and out fast at first, but when your hips buck up against him— he becomes harsher, the intention of bruising your lips evident.

next, he moves to press you against the mattress, fucking you senseless into it.

he hums into the air, “ah— fuck..”

his breathing is labored, eyes scrunching shut as the pictures of your eyes rolling back becomes a mere oil painting in front of him, perched on the walls of the most pristine museums. his fingers would pass through your hair again, now the back of your head, pulling you back so your spine is flush against his chest. you’d lean back against him, melting into his skin and begging for more. surely, you had enough experience from your dildos and other sexual toys, or partners, but none of them could compare to coriolanus as his hips snap into you.

he groans into the air, seething in the pleasure, “i’ll fuck you so good..— mm.”

he moves to now fuck into his hand, imagining his hand a depiction of your velvet walls around him, clenching as you near your high.

you moan against his flesh, his fingers moving from your hair to your neck, pulling you until your flesh molds with his, adoration and lust merging you two together.

he went faster, harsher, fucking into his hand until his thighs grew sore, finally reaching his high.

he spills into his hand, sighing into the humid air.

“my god—“ he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.

what the fuck is his problem?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

INTERLUDE : DARE ME ?

“so, did you talk to her?” festus interrogates him, per usual.

coriolanus’ eyes are heavy, he hardly slept after the events of last night, “no, i didn’t.”

“fucking loser,” festus snears, “she was live last night.”

“i know,” he swallows thick, the image of you riding the dildo returning to his mind, “did you talk to her?”

“yeah,” he shrugs, cocky, again, “i’m texting her right now.”

coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he leans over to see festus sending a message.

a phone goes off in the library.

as soon as the message is sent.

coriolanus blinks, once, twice, “send another.”

so he does, he types out another message and send it.

the same phone goes off again, just as the message says delivered.

coincidence?

coriolanus doesn’t believe in those.

“you’re so fucking weird dude, don’t try to read my messages,” festus pushes him away.

coriolanus groans, he couldn’t care less to read festus’ messages, “are you paying her to talk to you?”

“yes, but that’s not the point—“ festus quickly tries to save himself from the humiliation.

coriolanus scoffs, “she’s not your girlfriend, you can’t even get one, like ever.”

“and what about you, virgin?” festus leans in, a smirk growing on his lips. coriolanus knows what that smirk means, it means coriolanus will soon be sealing his fate, “why don’t you try to get one?”

“i’m good,” coriolanus shrugs, “nobody’s here for you to even dare me to ask out.”

“clemensia is,” he points to the table where you and clemensia always sit at, and of course, you’re both there, “and her friend.”

“i’m not asking them out,” coriolanus moves down in his chair.

“yes you are, i dare you.”

“no, you’re so fucking stu—“

“i’m gonna tell everyone you’re a virgin.”

coriolanus’ weakness was people knowing all the humiliating things about him, one of those things was the fact that he hasn’t had sex yet. coriolanus was an attractive man, he could get women if he truly wanted to and spend his nights with them, but he refused. and that made festus’ dares easy.

coriolanus’ jaw shifts, “you’re an asshole.”

every step he takes is slow, calculated, yet confident. it’s a certain stride that coriolanus always has, where he knows what he’s doing, but unsure at the same time. especially now, especially when your hair falls off your shoulder as you turn to have your eyes fall on him, sensing his approach. maybe it was a common thing for you, knowing festus would be daring his friends to come up to you, clemensia, or arachne.

always on high alert, he assumes.

his eyes fall the exposition of your shoulder, a key to one of those tight shirts that you always wear, even when it was against dress code.

a tight skirt and a short skirt, your motto, clearly. your twist underneath the table when he stands next to your seat, close, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. one thing he does notice though, is the strap of your bra. pink? a familiar shade, and as he follows it down, he notices the lace that starts on your bra. it looks an awful lot like the bra that the camgirl wore last night, the bra that coriolanus imagined you taking off for him.

his eyes narrow, he seems distracted, and you stare at him like he’s dumb, “hello?”

his eyes snap to your face at your words, “sorry— i—“

“what? are you gonna ask me out?” god, were you always this bitchy?

“i was planning on it,” his jaw shifts, eyes dipping to the plush of your lips, coated in that sparkly, strawberry gloss you always wore, “would you have said yes?”

“no, god, what is with you assholes?” you roll your eyes, pencil tapping impatiently against the desk.

“hm, not even a study date?” his eyes trail down to the book on your desk, “i saw your score on the test last week.”

“ew, fucking creep,” you snap, “i don’t need your help.”

“you sure?” his eyebrow cocks, your no isn’t stable yet, so he’s persuasive.

“coriolanus,” clemensia cuts in, “she said no.”

“did she?” he whistles, a cocky smile curving his lips, one that you want to slap off him, “must’ve not heard that.”

“then get some hearing aids,” you laugh, “i’m not sucking your dick.”

“didn’t ask you to, but we’ll see, sweetheart.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

we’ll see. he didn’t even know where those words came from, or his cockiness, maybe it was the fact that he suspected you to be the girl he had on his mind last night. if so, then he would know things about you that many don’t, and that gives him power.

greed : an insatiable desire for material objects, wealth, and power.

coriolanus snow was a greedy man.

he kept a closer eye on you now, eyes pinning to the back of your head, memorizing the way you style your hair, so that he can see if the hair that drips off your shoulders in all of your secret videos were the same. or if your lips were as sparkly and glossed in those videos as they are in person. did you wear the same mini skirt you wore to school in your videos? that would be dirty, wouldn’t it? capitol girl, dressed in her pristine clothes as she fucks herself in front of thousands.

what a slut.

he had to figure it out, it was an untamable hunger that not even the most holy prayer could exorcize out of him. rosaries dripped around the fingers he used to curl around his cock the night before, and even in his most innocent prayers, his mind reflected back onto the idea of pulling the rosary around your neck as he fucks into you. his eyes snap open, and now just another thing that he had done so clearly before was plagued with your existence.

was this you calling out to him? beckoning him to pray for you?

if so, he might just do it, dedicate all of his rosaries to you, replace virgin mary with yourself, and look at every cross and think of you moving onto it, sliding the wood into your womanhood.

coriolanus’ throat was dry again, his own thoughts making him want to vomit.

those were the kinds of things festus would be fantasizing about, not coriolanus— and yet, here he was, on his knees, imagining you on the pedestal. your hair dips past your shoulders as you look down at him, those judgemental, buggish eyes, now bleeding onto his skull. his fingers dip behind your calves, memorizing the touch of the flesh that smoothed over muscle and bone. his eyes cascade up your legs, past your breasts, to the eyes that look down on him.

he has a certain look in his eyes, a look that is saying he’s doing this all for you. dropping his pride for you, allowing his walls to crumble for you, tarnishing his name for you. sometimes snow doesn’t land on top, sometimes it melts and becomes weak in the sky, sometimes it crumbles underneath itself.

he plants gentle kisses to your shins, admirations, soft praises and prayers.

goddess, did you hear about the man who roamed lost? the man who fell weak? tell me of his efforts, what brought him to this point, the people he met, the worlds he crossed, to now be brought to his knees in front of his muse. he was complicated, hidden, and yet you peeled him apart like a pomegranate. the juice splatters against your face as he opens himself to you, and something about it is so very special.

scratches fall down his back, and again, he’s blinking himself to reality.

his fingers on the keyboard, he finds himself at your profile once more, now beckoning you to him. a twisted game of tug - of - war, isn’t it? pieces fall into place as he clicks on the link which leads him to paying for your exclusive content.

research purposes, of course.

he spends his money so easily, he doesn’t even take a second thought to it as the page reloads with his newfound access to all your hidden secrets. his fingers pry as he pulls down the website, scrolling through each aspect that you hold in the reflections of who you really are.

a whore? no, a temptress.

he sucks in a breath at the sights of you bending over in front of the camera, fucking a dildo into yourself, or the next one of you in a missionary position with a vibrator on your clit. or the next one of you fucking a dildo between your tits. coriolanus rasps out the breath he sucked in earlier, adjusting in his seat, this wasn’t another invitation to jerk off, it was studying.

he scrolls past a few more videos and then, his eyes catch it, the skirt.

a small smile curves his lips, power.

he has it.

or so, he thinks he does, you have his money, his admiration, him on his knees, have him confused on whether or not this is truly you. skirts and coincidences don’t tell much, he just likes to jump to conclusions. the hair didn’t even match up—

so does he really have the power?

we’ll see, sweetheart.

[leighsartworks216]

Just A Trim

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I had this idea like this morning or last night, I don't remember. And then I was not physically/mentally able to write until the sudden Need To Write hit me and I cranked this out

When writing this, I noticed I kept making references to Tav being shorter, but bc I want this to be enjoyed by everyone, I took them out. Pls let me know if I missed any instances of it tho

Ending loosely inspired by this scene from Big Fish

Warnings: scissors, brief references to low self-worth, anxiety, pure fluff

Word Count: 1,287

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Astarion didn’t trust his hair with just anybody. Pulling on it during sex? Okay. Playing with it while cuddling? It takes him a bit to actually trust someone enough to enjoy it. Washing it? Absolutely off the table. Cutting it? Out of question, and he’d probably insult you for asking.

So when he came to you, frowning and grumbling, and struggled through grit teeth to ask if you would please help him cut his hair? That meant something.

You tried not to let your glee show as you dropped whatever you were working on and followed him into your shared bathroom. He plopped onto the edge of the tub like a pouting child who’d just got a good telling-to after misbehaving. He held the scissors up for you to take.

“If you cut my ears, darling, I’m going to make you regret the day you were ever born.” He glares over his shoulder as you step into the tub behind him, rolling up your sleeves and taking the scissors. “And don’t you dare do anything funny. All I need is a simple trim. I assume you’re capable enough to manage that?”

You smiled as he growled at you like an annoying customer. You lean down and gently kiss his cheek. “I promise I’ll only take a little bit off.”

There’s an unspoken conflict on his face. He’s not sure he actually wants you to go through with this… But he’s sort of out of options. Any salons nearby closed before the sun went down, and he definitely did not trust any of your past traveling companions to do the job. No. He’d just have to trust you. He sighs and faces forward. “Just… be careful.”

“I will, my love.”

It had been difficult to notice during the course of your adventure together, but his hair did grow. Not as fast as yours, but curls that delicately curled around the edges of his ears now almost completely covered them, like strangling vines. You’d heard him cuss too many times when a strand got caught in his earrings and tugged when he went to brush the hair from his face. The curl that lay persistently over his forehead now brushed his upper eyelid. Very frequently, he would huff and fight to push it back, with nothing to show for it.

With gentle, smooth motions, you combed your fingers through his hair. Your nails lightly scratched at his scalp, running from his hairline to the nape of his neck, and carefully untangling any knots all the while. You heard his quiet sigh, and saw his shoulders begin to relax. You pressed a kiss to his head.

Assessing his full head of hair, you figured out where to begin. You separated out a section, trying to determine how long it used to be, so you knew how short to cut it now. He tensed again.

“I’m going to start cutting it now, okay?” He hummed, short and anxious. You pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Relax, dear. I’ve got you.”

“It’s difficult to when you have the means to turn me into a glorified clown.”

“But I won’t.”

He sighed. “I know.”

You wait for him to relax again, and he nods slightly. You take the scissors to the first section of hair. With a shink, a small clump of hair falls into the tub. The sound certainly doesn’t fill him with confidence, but he trusts you won’t mess it up too bad…

You begin talking about your friends, about the letters they’ve sent lately keeping you updated with their lives. Apparently, Gale sent some interesting information regarding potential cures for his vampirism - though most of it was only on temporary remedies. “In good time,” you’d assured him when he groaned. Stepping into the sun again would be nice, but an end to his sanguine hunger would be better.

It takes a while to cut all his hair, especially with how meticulous you’re being. You give special attention to the hair around his ears, making sure not to nick him. You step out of the tub and in front of him while you cut the stubborn curl there, where you catch it before it can fall into his lap, and deposit it in the basin. He can’t help watching you then. You have such determination and focus on the task at hand. Only once the curl is trimmed do you actually see him staring, and you smile and peck his lips. He rather enjoyed that.

As you go through each section, you consistently run your fingers through his hair. It’s the most relaxing bit, and he’s certainly glad he asked you for this. He would die before Gale ever got his grubby mitts anywhere near his hair.

By the time you finish, his eyes are closed. He listens to your chatter, to the random tunes you hum, to the way you hold your breath as you make a cut. It’s rather peaceful, despite the underlying nervousness to it all. He can’t see himself. All he can hope is you make him look nice.

You brush your fingers through his hair to knock loose any stray strands. It falls like snow by your feet. Satisfied with your work, you begin running water for a bath, kicking the hair down the drain before you plug it to fill the tub.

“Done, love?”

“Mhm!” You lean around to kiss his cheek again. “You can take a bath, wash all the hair off, and I can get you some fresh clothes.”

He grins. He stands and turns to face you, taking your hands in his and running his thumbs along your knuckles. He’s worried, anxious, but he tries not to let it show. “How do I look?” he asks with a careful bravado, tilting his head to the side, chin upturned, like a haughty nobleman.

You let go of his hand to cup his cheek. He automatically leans into it, mask slipping ever so slightly to reveal his worry. “You look beautiful. I think I did a rather fine job.”

“‘Rather fine?’ Oh, darling,” he lilts, “for your sake, I’d better look the spitting image of perfection.”

“You always do.” It’s earnest. A solid fact to oppose the teasing of his words.

He cannot prevent the true smile that tugs the corners of his mouth as he leans in to claim yours, tasting and nipping and teasing with soft sighs of content. You are much too good to him, but he doesn’t say that out loud, lest you lecture him and treat him to endless spoils until he believes it himself.

He reluctantly pulls away, but his lips continue to brush yours. “Bathe with me.”

You open your eyes to study his face. “Are you sure?”

“Undoubtedly.”

A mischievous spark glints in the corner of your eye as you grin wickedly. “Do I get to wash your hair?”

He chuckles. “Don’t push it.”

You hum. “Would you wash mine?”

“Whatever you want, my love.”

“I want… to turn off the tap before our bathroom floods.” You pull away and he has to laugh as you wade through the water to stop the steady stream. The warm water reaches just below your knees. You sigh, but the annoyance is dampened by your grin. “Look what you’ve done - distracting me like that. Now my pants are all wet.”

“All wet?” He makes a show of looking you up and down. “I don’t know, love. I see quite a few dry spots.”

Without warning, he steps into the large tub, still in his own clothes, and grabs you, pulling you down with him into the water. Your laughter fills the house. Astarion has never been more in love.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueen_cosplay @yarn_yogi @tototini @teardropcup @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive

[wilcze-kudly]

I think the reason I'm a bit iffy about most zutara shippers who call themesleves "pro Katara" (and lets be honest the tags pro katara/katara deserved better are mainly people building themselves a moral highground of "if you disagree with me, you clearly dilslike Katara and want her to suffer") is just the hypocrisy of it all.

Katara's consent was violated by Aang, yes. But Zuko threatening her and being a fucking creep in the "I'll save you from the pirates" scene was sexy and not at all the nightmare of any sane woman.

Katara's role as a healer is treated as her acting subservient and her loosing her feminist icon status. Unless she's healing/offering to heal Zuko.

Aang is immature and childish. But we will handily ignore Zuko, a whole ass 16 year old who's heir to a country throwing a temper tantrum because his girlfriend dared to speak to another man. [Frankly, in my opinion, Zuko isn't really ready for a serious romantic relationship, but yall arent ready for that conversation]

Aang is supposedly misogynistic, but Zuko's many instances of actual misogyny are swept under the rug. Aang is shown in canon to be incredibly supportive of Katara defying the patriarchy.

Supposedly Aang makes Katara do all the housework. Despite there being evidence to the contrary. Zuko has just recently learnt to brew tea.

Katara being the Avatar's wife is supposedly degrading. But if she were Zuko's wife, I'm sure she wouldn't be just a baby maker. (What a horribke thing to call a woman btw. Tall call your own mothers baby makers too???) Despite the fact that Izumi's mother hasn't even been mentioned by name in tlok. But yeah. She'd be afforded the respect she deserves I'm certain.

Aang is, on most accounts, supportive and respectful of Katara's opinions, even when he disagrees with them. Zuko openly mocks people who oppose him. I am going to make a longer post on the Southern Raiders episodes and how all of you watched that episode blindfolded or smth.

Aang comparing Appa being kidnapped (his last connection to his genocided people, the last vestige of his happy past) to Katara's anger over her mother is bad. But Zuko comparing mommy leaving his ass to Katara's mother getting brutally slaughtered in front of her ? Silence.

Aang supposedly needs Katara to mother him and that's a bad thing. But Azula, Mai and Ty Lee having to gentle parent Zuko almost everytime they interact is never talked about, despite the uncalled for verbal abuse that trio goes through from him.

Aang and Katara's 2 year age gap is creepy. But Zuko and Katara's 2 year age gap is fine. My bigest gripe with Zutara lovers is them completely erasing Katara's childishness and immaturity, in order for her and Zuko to have this mature, sexy relationship. She's 14, guys. 14.

This post really isn't meant to decry Zutara. I just want people who ship Zutara to get off their high horse of feminism and to accept that they're no better than the rest of us ship loving freaks. Wanting the main girl to bump uglies with the broody emo twink doesn't make you a modern day suffragette. Disliking a main canon pairing isn't a measure of your love for a female character.

Grow up.

Enjoy your ship like a normal person.

[thearchercore]

omg… re: the charles like, i’m just giggling at how petty it is. (imo at least) this is a direct response to ferrari leaking the news about his contract negotiations, like a “hey look at how well max and i look together haha (threatening)” and i love it 😭😭😭 (again imo) its completely undeniable now that charles is using lestappen for leverage in his negotiations and im glad hes dispelling the no backbone rumours!!

thank u and everyone else involved for the lestappen gate tag btw! you have me fully onboard 🫶🫶

NO BUT LIKE -- the implications of this

you have to understand, charles likes to play subtle PR games. at the beginning of the year, the charles to merc rumours were emerging and he managed to respond by liking 3 separate tweets about staying with ferrari to shut them down.

now, fast forward to november, charles to rbr agenda is LOUD. ferrari is leaking information about contract negotiations to possibly (and dare i say unsuccessfully) increase public pressure on charles to renew his contract. they even mention in the leaks that he does not have many other options outside of ferrari which is a lie -- red bull publicly voiced interest in him and charles definitely works with multiple plans, so again, this is just them manipulating the narrative

after his crash on sunday, all eyes are on charles and what he says, what's his next move. and what does he do? likes a freaking lestappen edit on main. an edit where a clip of a ferrari car cuts into a clip of an rbr car. this ferrari -> red bull transition may be charles' way to hint at the current contract rumours.

and in a way it's genius, it's not too loud to get a call from ferrari pr to unlike it (like the previous tweets he had to unlike) but also gets the message across.

one thing about charles, he will be smart about his messaging online and we're just witnessing his first choice to speak up after sunday in his own way.

ALSO BEAR IN MIND -- charles is rn in LA for something regarding his WME contract, he's making moves faster like no one else atm

[ace-of-spaders]

*taps the mic and laughs nervously because of the major stage fright*

Lizzington shippers, fam, grandmas and grandpas, can I have a moment of your attention, please?

It's not a secret that, while some people in Lizzington community are still active, whether they write or make gifs or keep our dash full of Lizzington even in this trying times ( @melbob26-blog, thank you for this! ), Lizzington community as a whole went into hibernation over the last couple of years.

And I get it, interests change, especially when one show ends and there's another ongoing, moving on from the show that ended is totally natural, especially when it didn't give your favorite characters the happy ending they deserved.

I get it.

Hell, for a pretty lengthy while there I focused on other ships and shows, too, especially after TBL ended ended last year.

But you know what I realized earlier today, when I reread some of the old fics, browsed through gifsets and text posts, watched some fanvids?

It's the show that ended, for some in 2021, for others in 2023. And the only thing that means is that it cannot disappoint us anymore.

( it's not like we were suddenly deprived of quality content, because let's face it, the fans have been the main source of the quality lizzington content for years now, while the show gave us mere crumbs, on a good day )

But Red and Liz?

They are still out there, fighting criminals, catching Blacklisters, travelling the world, shamelessly flirting, toppling shadow organizations, raising Agnes and/or any other children they have, and generally being the sexy badass power couple they are!

Nothing changed in that regard.

So why would we mourn them, when they are out there, healthy and happy and in the middle of yet another adventure? I'm sure right this moment Red is drawing Liz into another one of his heists and she's only too happy to join him, even though she pretends that she's not, for the sake of the game.

There's literally no reason for us to stop writing, giffing, editing, sharing theories and headcanons and memes and just talking about our favorite couple.

And by writing all of this, I want to propose something daring to you:

Let's revive the Lizzington community!

Let's rewatch earlier seasons and gif the hell out of them because it's been a while and because precious moments between these two are not going to become less precious even if it's giffed 10 or 100 more times, not to mention that ever gifmaker's style is different, so there are virtually no two identical gifsets as there are no two identical snow flakes.

Let's make fanvideos, picspams, picture edits, fanart, moodboards! The amount of songs, quotes, moments etc that can inspire you is virtually endless!

Let's write fics, let's explore AUs, let's give each other prompts and challenge each other to try something new or practice some aspect of writing, like writing kisses or AUs or hugs or making up Blacklisters etc!

Let's share headcanons and theories and ideas and what our versions of Red and Liz are like, because everyone has their own unique versions of Red and Liz living in their head, and it's just beautiful, if you ask me!

Let's reblog stuff, filling each other's dashes with Lizzington!

Let's scream about Lizzington because no one does it like them!

Let's revive the Lizzington Community, we all miss it!

PS. Feel free to reblog this post – spread the suggestion!)

PPS. To assure you that I'm not the type of person who encourages others but doesn't do anything themselves, I can tell you I've already got some ideas for a couple of Lizzington events in mind. Those include challenges, thematic weeks etc.

PPPS. I'm not sure how many people are checking the tags these days, so I'm gonna tag some people I know under the cut, just in case, to spread the suggestion. If you weren't tagged, trust me, it's nothing personal!

@meetmeatthecoda @iwouldlovetoeatyourtoast @agxntkeen @factoseintolerant @tale-xistime @james-baeder @lettie1609 @withwhatiam @peace-love-on-planet-earth @missourired @felilaprivada @strawberry-pills @roominthecastle @codewordpumpkin @my-robot-heart @kitkate91060 @imyourplusone @shelly1952 @itsjustme-itsmylife @castle2cute @nancyjocom @cress-26 @lunaarlilacs @femaleoptimistic @scifi-gk @greeneyedsoul88 @figureofdismay @shippinglizzington @kissthefuture @thetwistedargent @actuallylorelaigilmore @sorrydearie @turningtimeinthetardis @buildinggsr @apicturewithasmile @windfalling @piketrickfeet

[bougiebutchbinch]

Any time I see the words 'canyon' being used derogatorily, I am forcibly reminded that many people wilfully choose to ignore that the 'canyon' started because of the massive block walls fans who dared even so much as voice appreciation for Izzy as a character had to put up so they weren't relentlessly harassed or doxxed and could enjoy the tags without being told they were evil for liking a morally grey character who dared (the horror!!!!) get in the way of the fan favorite ship.

If anyone who hates on Izzy Appreciators complains about canyon attitudes and how they seclude themselves from the main fandom, you have to ask yourself...... well, and whose fault is that? why were they forced to do that in the first place? hmm? :)

[euphoricfilter]

omg you’re sooo sweet!! I love your writing and it amazes me how you intend to just do a small drabble but it’s always series worthy & ik that’s not what you plan but that’s how interesting your stories get🥹 but I have so many ideas for the “how time has changed you” couple (you don’t have to do them all or at all, just a few ideas) but maybe you can tell us more about how they met, how she fought him and how he finally got her into Stockholm syndrome, and maybe some smut along the way either right before she fell into Stockholm syndrome so (dubcon/somno) or after and their just so thirsty for each other 😮‍💨

it’s all in your head:

pairing: yandere! yoongi x f. reader

genre: more angst than fluff || mafia au || yandere au || non-idol au

summary: you're the one that let yourself fall

word count: 2.1k

tags/ warnings: kidnapping, implied stockholm syndrome, unintentional mind break/ mentioned disassociation, mentions of minor injuries (bruises)

notes: chronologically happens before ‘how time has changed you’ but i think reading hthcy first is probably better ~ drabble requests closed (peep the gorillaz reference in the title) also!!! thank you??? you're sweet too my love <3 and thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to read my stuff??

drabble masterlist || my main masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Human beings are flawed in design. And somewhere, mingled between all the self-loathing thoughts, somewhat of a god complex had formed. 

You wouldn’t ever tell anyone, hot embarrassment too much to handle, but truly you felt as though you were untouchable. Like the universe had a secret little rule written somewhere in the stars that luck was always on your side. 

It had been a harsh slap to the face when reality had settled in. It was strange how for days you’d been watching yourself from outside of your body. Someone so familiar yet so different, who had your face, your mannerisms, everything so very you; yet she’d fallen into the claws of a beast. No longer exempt from the evils of the world. 

While you covered your ears at the incessant banging at the bedroom door, you from the real world simply curls up further into herself. 

You were aware that your captor wasn’t going to open the door. You hadn’t exactly been the kindest in your first few days here, more than a few bruises littering his skin from your outbursts. Sticky guilt seizing your body when you’d catch a glimpse of his arms painted purple from an unjust kick, because somehow you knew he never had plans to touch you if it wasn’t on your own terms. 

The little control you had over your life in the form of a lock and key. Yoongi had found himself more than worried when you wouldn’t even open the door for food, never below begging for you to come out even if only briefly because really your health was the most important thing. 

Through prickly thoughts of impossible escape and wallowing in self-pity, you’d tried to figure out where you’d met Yoongi. Because even if you had come across thousands of faces between meeting him, surely you wouldn’t forget eyes like his. A thousand secrets hidden behind eyes almost as black as the night sky; eyes that would have no problem picking you apart with nothing but a single glance. 

He seemed to know you quite well. Seemingly knowing small, insignificant things about you. Favourite foods, snacks you’d always seem to eye when you’d wander into a convenience store of an evening. Every little hobby you’d picked up in the last six months stacked on a coffee table. Clothes you’d been eyeing online for weeks, sat in a basket that truly you had no intention of buying; a faraway dream that’s not as far as it seems. 

A prison disguised as a perfect bedroom. And as much as the bed had looked tempting, silk duvet sure to do wonders for your skin and blankets that were made of velvet; you hadn’t dared fall asleep. Not until your body had begged for rest and you’d spend an hour napping on the woollen rug, only to be woken by a tray of food being slipped through the door. 

The first time you become somewhat aware of your physical body again is when Yoongi doesn’t show up one morning. Doesn’t tell you stories of his life, doesn’t sit there as you stare at your food; praying that he would leave you alone. That he’d let you go, or at least answer the questions that have you falling into an endless hole of hysteria. 

You shower. A rushed ordeal because you didn’t know when Yoongi would return. And then you’d fallen asleep on the rug until the sun had dipped below the horizon and Yoongi had made himself comfortable outside your door again. 

You’d tried to run, dreams of a world so far out of your grasp dying in your hands as you stand there only to find heavy footsteps that stalked the halls, a brutal reminder that you wouldn’t get very far even if you tried. 

The windows didn’t open, you’d tried that. Too scared to try and smash them open, sure they were specially made– impossible to break. 

You’d lost all concept of time. Days bleeding into nights. Hours melting into one another. Where seconds are nothing more than fine dust, something you relied on truly nothing but a concept. Unattainable no matter how long you tried to count each minute or guess the day of the week. Every day is a repeat of the last. The only difference would be what Yoongi would talk about, gravelly voice ricocheting throughout your mind until you lay there awake hours after he’d gone to bed, replaying everything he’d told you that evening. 

You’re not sure when it happens, but you start to expect Yoongi. Knowing that when delicate orange light spills into your room from the window, the sky the prettiest shade of pink, he’d be there. 

Yoongi never opened the door. Voice bold enough that you can hear everything he says, walls thin enough that you can hear each deep sigh that passes through his lips when he talks about certain things that irk him just that little bit. 

When Yoongi talked, and you listened, the world was shrouded in darkness. And you simply floated, merely existed. No expectations, not that you knew of anyways. And maybe he had a hidden agenda, something a little more sinister lurking behind airy words that silenced every niggling thought in your mind that kept you awake every night. 

You don’t think much of it when Yoongi doesn’t show up one evening. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d have done this. Sure to come tomorrow morning with a plate full of cake, maybe those cookies that you liked; way too expensive for you to ever splurge on. Hot chocolate or sweet tea, you’re unsure though he seems to decide based off the weather, and so you’ll have to see what a new day brings you before you hazard a guess. 

And so, you deal with the silence of the bedroom for one evening. 

By the second day of silence, you’d found yourself staring at the door again, every little creak of the floorboards in the hallway causing you to perk up. Tips of your fingers burning as you dig your nails into the carpet, feet tapping against the floor, bottom lip chewed between your teeth. Every passing hour of deafening silence tugging you further and further into a spiral. 

Without Yoongi’s voice your thoughts had amplified. 

You hadn’t been here long in retrospect, a month? Maybe a little more. Surely he hadn’t already gotten sick of you? How pitiful would that be? The very man who had shown an inkling of an obsession was already done with you. 

Day four, and you’re sat by the door, startling one of the maids who had come to give you breakfast. 

You bang your head against the wall once she closed it, the tray kicked away from you as frustrated tears cling to your lashes. Something suffocating grabbing onto your neck, a phantom hand cutting off your air as you tug at your hair. 

Self-pity is a terrible thing. An ugly emotion mutating into something a little worse until you can physically feel the sadness, tugging at your temples in the form of a headache, salty cheeks, tight with tears, or a heart that feels infinite times heavier compared to the ache of rocky blue sadness. 

As the sun rises on the sixth day, you decide to keep the bedroom door open, in hopes that a breeze from the open windows downstairs would carry some of the wretched thoughts that wouldn’t leave you alone no matter how hard you tried to drown them out. 

You’d tried washing them down the drain, scalding hot shower only burning your skin, red-raw and tender to touch– physical twinge of pain still not enough to make the world silent. 

You’d sat in front of the CD player for an hour before you’d flicked through piles of plastic cases to find a song you liked. And you hadn’t been all that surprised to find they were all your favourite artists. You’d only managed to blast one song before you’d kept the volume down, always listening out for all the little noises outside the room. 

On the seventh day, you’d sat in the doorway of the bedroom, legs tucked up to your chest. You’d only made brief eye contact with the herculean man standing opposite your door before you’d retreated back into your own mind. Because as much as it was tempting, you wouldn’t dare ask where Yoongi was, sickly hatred still gnawing away at the back of your mind. 

On the eighth day, one of the maids had asked if you wanted to take a stroll in the garden; that hauling yourself up in the bedroom all day isn’t healthy. And something inside of you had fallen out of place. So completely out of character, you couldn’t recognise yourself. 

You’d started flinging pillows and blankets off the bed at Yoongi’s staff, unsure if what was coming out of your mouth was words of sobs or shaky little cries. Your body seemingly moves on its own, free will fizzling in your hands as you act on impulse.

“What’s all this?” 

You stop, hiccuping as Yoongi stands in the doorway, blurry; veiled by tears that cling to wet lashes. 

“Out. All of you” 

You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands, knees cushioned by long-forgotten blankets as you drop to the floor. Footsteps of those scuttling out of the room drowned out by the thumping of your heart in your ears. 

Yoongi runs his thumb over his bottom lip, your shoulder shaking as you swallow down another sob. 

He crouches, still far enough away from you. 

“What’s all this about, darling?” he soothes. 

“I hate you. I hate you so much” you kick at the blankets underneath you, “first you fucking take me without asking–” 

“It’s for your own good” he shakes his head, “I did it for you”

“Bullshit” you laugh, “Normal people don’t do this” 

“You and I come from two very different worlds, baby” 

You push the palms of your hands into the sockets of your eyes, “I wouldn’t know. I don’t know you” 

Yoongi hums, gentle as he takes a step forward, slow so you can see he merely wants to be closer, “But I know you” 

“And that makes it okay for you to act like you care and then leave for days?” 

He blinks, “Is that what this is about?” a laugh bubbling up his throat, “You were lonely, is that it? Because you could have asked for me and I would have come straight home for you” 

“Huh?” your eyebrows crease, and your eyes meet his own, “that’s not–” 

“Not what?” he tilts his head, something acutely mocking in his gaze, “Not you waiting for me? Not you slowly losing yourself to your wretched little mind? Always overthinking, so caught up in your own head. I have eyes and ears everywhere– I know every little thing you’ve been doing over the last week” 

You swallow, “I hate you” 

“Lying is bad, you know?” he hums, “It’s okay to let go sometimes. It’s okay to admit you can’t do things alone.” 

You shake your head. 

“No?” 

“You weren’t here. I was alone.” 

“I’m here now. I’ll always be here for you” 

Yoongi thinks people have pre-established ideals about him because of his job. Brute force and terror had never been something he wanted to instil in you. Never wanting to wear you down, pull you so far into the darkness that you stray away from the essence of your being. He loved you as you were and simply wanted you to see eye-to-eye with him. 

He hadn’t expected you to fall so soon. Had prepared to wait many more months if it meant he could have you where he wanted you. 

It’s endearing, how much control you seem to think you have over your own thoughts. The mind is ever so fragile, and truly, we are our own worst enemies. And maybe that’s what he found so fascinating about you. Wanting to weave his way into your own world, stuck inside your own head, so many thoughts and so many ugly feelings that he’d love to just wash away. 

And to just watch you find the little piece of freedom from your own awful mind. A fucked up hero that saved you from your own hysteria, because as much as you liked to think you were the one in control, he could see it. Watched as each day you slowly started to lose yourself. 

And Yoongi will never say it, will never take the prize of you sinking into his grasp, because you’d brought yourself here. And he assumes you’ll only continue to sink further and further until all you know is him; the way it’s supposed to be. 

And very soon, he knows the two of you will find something special.

🧸 thank you for reading!!

[rinbylin]

re: jianghu as a queer space in mlc

here to answer @redemption-revenge !! in reply to this post

(also tagging @markiafc @ananeiah <3)

there are many definitions of jianghu, but this is specifically based on the framing of jianghu as the space people retreat to, away from the mainstream sphere governed by the imperial court. in that is a sense of rejection and defiance against the patriarchal, heteronormative values and norms, which had been enforced through a fixation on upkeeping order in the society. as such i guess it's not too much of a stretch to interpret jianghu as a queer space in a way that's characterised by a spirit of nonconformity to the norms. consequently, it makes sense for stories set in jianghu be used to illustrate and navigate queer identities/experiences/feelings - which I came to believe mlc had made really good use of.

there's always kind of a dichotomy between 江湖 jianghu and 庙堂 miaotang (ie. imperial court). like in mlc, there are two separate, distinct law enforcement bodies from the respective spheres - and jianghu strives to keep imperial court from interfering in their affairs. like how li xiangyi firmly stands against getting imperial court involved in jianghu matters. like how fang duobing is actively running away from the grip of the royal court on his life choices. the rejection of the mainstream (very conveniently and broadly put, confucian) norms in mlc also manifests in many of its key relationships being non-familial (in the sense of blood/marriage-based kinship) and there being little emphasis on the main characters' biological familial ties. (anyway this is for a whole different meta on its own... edit: it's here)

it's then actually a sort of irony that the imperial court's institution of law and order is what sigu sect/baichuan court had been formed to be a de facto counterpart to. so when li xiangyi becomes li lianhua, it triggered the process of deconstructing the meaning of installing such an institution and the need to maintain order to a fundamentally nonconforming space such as jianghu. mama fang's seemingly throwaway line of criticising li xiangyi and his mission is in fact the thesis statement in this particular reading of mlc's story: jianghu makes its own rules. nobody should dare to do it in its place.

now deprived of all means to fight like he used to, li xiangyi's new life as li lianhua is essentially a refresh of how he views jianghu. the death of li xiangyi the leader of sigu sect and top of wulin, meant taking apart the idea that jianghu is a lawless arena where the fittest fight to the top for power and control over wulin. and li lianhua then putting together lotus tower, living a life focusing on a domestic lifestyle this time for real far from the reach of the governance both from the imperial court and sigu sect/baichuan court, is him living the jianghu that's defined as a space away from any form of conformity.

with that, there's also a sense of queerness to this particular way of living as li lianhua, if you consider the chinese conceptualisation of gender being more social than biological. if femininity and masculinity were respectively characterised by inner/domestic sphere and external/any space outside of that, dare I say...it actually makes li lianhua's moving house mindblowingly smart as a metaphor for gender fluidity. lonely wanderers are common in wuxia but housed lonely wanderers? he carved for himself a domestic (ie. feminine) space in the wilderness - among a jianghu space that's still dominated by masculine values of aggression and competition. and being freely mobile makes this feminine space more fluid and less tied down than the more rigid, inert domestic, feminine spaces in traditional mainstream society. when you combine it with how his character has been fem-coded - even as li xiangyi (eg. yin-coded powers/energy) (also a whole other meta on its own... edit: it's here now), it speaks to a part of him that has always found appeal in qualities conventionally associated with femininity of stability, gentleness and non-aggression. and a rejection of expectations to fight and destroy. he is defining who he is in his own terms, in the true spirit of jianghu.

[victusinveritas]

Writing advice from Nick Mamatas.

Some science fiction/fantasy creative writing students I have encountered, a field guide

1. World-Savers: these are generally older students, have no real interest in SF/F, are writing a book to express political or metaphysical ideas they consider to be radical and necessary for the future of life on Earth. In reality, they're writing long Platonic dialogues about their ideas, and authority from various culture and pop culture tropes (aliens, noble savages, fairies, resurrected presidents)–to the extent that their work has a plot at all, it involves a Christ figure transforming the world via a sacrifice. The ideas aren't very radical either: "pollute less" and "love your neighbor, unless they're a dick" are common. Occasionally the message for the world has to do with something more prosaic: reverse budgeting, the evils of Affirmative Action, the importance of installing solar panels, how dare Eileen divorce me and fuck like three guys in the six months after she moved out, etc. These students are utterly confused by actually existing SF/F stories they read, and often interpret them in bizarrely sexual ways. They don't believe in numbering the pages of their manuscripts, and often attempt to submit work in PDF so it won't be stolen.

2. Children with Money: recent college grads, or drop-outs, these people have read Harry Potter, Twilight, and perhaps three or four other best-selling young adult series and nothing else. They are easily upset, especially when someone suggests reading more. Their main interests are YouTube personalities, video games, and a sort of Puritanical pansexuality that actually makes smut boring. They often "forget" to read the work of other students, and have no idea how to use a printer. They warn the other students that their story might be "too intense" because it contains, for example, a depiction of a car accident. Their stories are routinely awful, and always contain a character named "Aidan." Sometimes their parents come to class to make sure I am "not a serial killer", as though they could possibly tell from looking at me. (Oh, "Mamatas" IS a white person name...I guess?)

3. Anointed Ones: They contact me, or the people running the workshop, beforehand, to make sure that "the class is right" for them. They have file cabinets full of their stuff, and after many decades of toil, they are ready to reveal their work to the world. They just need a mentor, and an ally—could I be the one they've been searching for lo these many years? Prior workshops were full of callow teachers and jealous students. Why they were only allowed to submit ten pages a week! Some of them have actually read fairly widely, but you wouldn't know it from their work: three adjectives per noun, a fetish for speech tags other than the word "said" or no tags at all. Often these stories include as characters philosophical prostitutes with very sensitive nipples. They never miss a class and often show up more than thirty minutes early. One time, I had to hide in a closet to avoid an extensive pre-class conversation with one.

4. Frightened Proles: These have read Stephen King and Dean Koontz and sometimes even horror writers from this century. They generally have working-class jobs and write about working people who encounter the supernatural on the late shift. They really hope they can sell their novel soon, but they know it'll take a lot of work. (Ten more drafts oughta do it!) They wear baseball hats to class and look like enormous eight-year-olds. They get very excited when I mention professional wrestling or do a taiji move in class. Their significant others are often nameless—"my girlfriend" "my wife." They buy my books and bring them to class for autographs. Some of them get published after, especially flash fiction.

5. Repairables: decent writers, often involved in the SFF "scene", who need to be fixed after a bad experience with Clarion or another workshop or an overeager editor at a semipro magazine who told them some idiot nonsense they decided to believe because they were told it was "unprofessional" not to consider editorial feedback. These either get published...or lost to MFA programs, video game jobs, fandom, podcasts, or other writing-shaped pursuits. Most of them are ferocious name-droppers; the ones who heard of me beforehand know to keep quiet though.

[weilongfu]

"It feels like I know you."

Wu Minghan looked up from the report he was filing for the man in front of him. He'd walked in to the police station with another (much grumpier) man in tow along with a broken sign advocating for climate policy reform and demanded to file an assault report. Curly hair, mischievous smile, and a red plaid shirt that Wu Minghan wanted to curl his fist into with mixed emotions. It was the mixed emotions part that surprised Wu Minghan more than anything else.

(He usually had very clear emotions on curling a fist into someone's shirt and 90% of the time, it was for pulling a suspect closer for another punch.)

"Lots of people know me. I've been working the front desk here for two months," Wu Minghan said as he returned his gaze to the paper in front of him. "Now where did you say the man-"

"The main road off the beach. But I feel like I know you." The corners of the man's lips curled just that extra bit and Wu Minghan couldn't help but feel another creeping sensation up his neck, like he was prey, like he was the target of a cosmic joke. And he hated how familiar that felt suddenly.

"That's not accurate enough-"

"Well, maybe you should come with me to the beach some time? Maybe that'd jog my memory?" The man's eyes sparkled a little. Another sensation ran up Wu Minghan's neck and he failed to resist the urge to pull at his uniform collar.

"I'm not-"

"Interested? But officer..." The man fluttered his lashes and Wu Minghan felt his body squirm which seemed to be the reaction the man wanted. "Hahaha, don't be so pressed officer, I can tell you're just another-"

"Dumb straight?" Wu Minghan blinked and frowned as the last bits of the mocking tone in his voice dispersed in the air. "Why did I say that?"

The man stood up from leaning against the counter before leaning in again. "I do know you." This time his smile turned softer and genuine.

"I-"

"Officer Wu Minghan," the man said as he tapped Wu Minghan's name tag. "It's been a long time..." The man paused. "For both of us." He rested a hand on top of Wu Minghan's which had stilled in its writing. "Do you remember me?"

Wu Minghan felt an itch under the skin on the back of his hand where the man's lay. "Mao Mao, don't you dare- Mao Mao? Who's-" Wu Minghan winced and a flash of memory, the smell of so many burning incense sticks, the feel of a touch that was there and yet not sitting impossibly on his shoulders, a word, said through clenched teeth, a promise made in earnest, relief as one passed on and the other survived. "Mao Pangyu." Wu Minghan found his hand released. "Y-You're Mao Pangyu. We-"

"Laogoooooonnngggggggg," Mao Pangyu said with a lilt to his voice that made Wu Minghan feel oddly happy yet alone, "That's what you used to call me. I think... we should see if it still fits as well as it used to." Mao Pangyu's smile faltered just a bit. "If you want."

Wu Minghan scribbled another few characters down onto the form before stamping it and shoving it into the appropriate bin for processing. "In this life, if you make me marry your dead body again, I'll make sure to find you first in the next life so I can kill you and make someone else marry your spirit."

"You're embarrassed."

"You're insufferable."

"But I am your-"

"Not in this life."

"...not yet."

[lurkingshan]

Breaking Down the I Feel You Linger in the Air Finale

Okay pals, I got some sleep and I'm ready to dig into this finale and all its beautiful messiness. I love this show and I'm frankly a little frustrated that we got such an incomplete resolution to the (hopefully) first season when there was ample time to do it right. As ever, pacing and time and information management continue to be major weaknesses for Tee Bundit. As I said last week, the writing for this show has been undeniably messy but it's still holding together on the strength of the production and the performances and the success of some of its big themes and character arcs; that take held firm through the finale and some of the baffling choices made about where to spend our time in this final installment. So, let's dig into it!

The Long Goodbye

I'll say upfront that this is my biggest beef with the pacing of the finale. We spent all of last week on a long and painful goodbye for Yai and Jom, perfectly executed, but for some reason we did another 45 minutes of it this week, not so perfectly executed. While I loved the covering of the mirrors, the saddest sex scene ever (complete with sex moans running as the audio over a memory montage how dare you show!), and the pain of Yai realizing he drew the final picture and watching Jom disappear, we didn't need to retread them saying goodbye to each other over and over again for two entire hours of story time, and we didn't need a long, sappy, on the nose speech from Jom saying things we already knew. As I told @neuroticbookworm, this might be my aro showing but I found the series of repetitive emotional goodbye conversations and memory montages exhausting and not in a good way. If I were the script doctor, I would have kept the mirrors, sad sex, and Yai drawing as the start of the episode and cut the rest, moving much more quickly into the next phase of the story.

Back to the Future

Jom returning to his present day life, trying to cope with his anguish and loneliness and adjust back into things, and further investigating the time travel mystery to figure out a way to reconnect with Yai should have been the main narrative of this episode. Instead, we got a truncated version of it that didn't have time to breath because we'd used up so much time on the above mentioned retread. For my money, Jom's devastation upon finding Yai's letter to him was the most emotionally resonant moment of the finale and the first part of the episode where I almost cried. But we had barely sunk into that feeling before it was abruptly cut short because we were out of time and Tee needed to wrap this baby up.

Eyebrow Scar Yai

Here’s where I get actually kind of peeved, because this final (pre-credits) scene was so poorly set up and executed that to even call it a resolution is a stretch. A modern version of Yai walks into the room, asks Jom why he's crying, tells him he's been waiting for him, kisses him, and then the credits roll!

Now I've been in the tags so I know this caused confusion for anyone who has not read the novel (me too, fam!). And that's because the show had not bothered to establish:

That Yai does in fact have a modern doppelgänger

Who the heck that doppelgänger is and how he’s connected to 1928 Yai

How that doppelgänger would be able to remember Jom when no other doppelgängers in the story can remember their past lives

Based on what we know, could we piece together a reasonable theory about who this man is, how he got there, and the final pieces of the mythology that make sense of it? Sure. In fact, bookworm and I pretty much guessed exactly what the explanation for this was after watching the show, and many of the elements at play here were theorized in conversations we had last week. Book readers like @tipsyjaehyun have now confirmed the full explanation for anyone who cares to go read it.

But the show did not tell us any of this information. If you have to read the novel or have novel readers spoil you on aspects of the story that the show didn't bother to cover in order to understand the ending of the story, the execution has failed. And given the pacing notes above, there is really no reason we couldn't have gotten a better set up for this ending with Eyebrow Scar Yai (yes I know his name but no I'm not using it because the show didn't bother telling me; I am petty like that). Jom could have found this descendant during his time of processing and the ending could have hinged on us realizing this modern Yai is a reincarnation who has his past life memories intact; had we gone into a final kiss between them feeling grounded in all of that knowledge, it would have landed so much better.

Hello Commander

And now on to the post-credits scene, where Tee puts a plea into the universe to give him a second season so he can play around in another time period and explore what is evidently the origin of this soul tie between Jom and Yai. I chose to read this episode tag as separate from the actual season 1 narrative, and I think that was the intention given its placement. If they secure funding for a second season, this tag scene becomes the beginning of that next story, with Eyebrow Scar Yai's kiss sending Jom into another time travel adventure. If they don't we can just ignore it and pretend the pre-credits scene was the end (which is why I'm not happy it was so poorly done). I, for one, would love to see a second season to explore another time period and give Tee a chance to clean up some of this mess he has made of the mythology and season 1 resolution. Shouts to @clairedaring for reporting back from the live showing of the finale on what the possibilities are looking like there. Fingers crossed we get a continuation of this story some day!

Tagging in @waitmyturtles and @twig-tea who also have linked posts above. And shouts to @blmpff @cankersoregirl @pharawee @wanderlust-in-my-soul @italianpersonwithashippersheart @bengiyo @dragonsareawesome123 @wen-kexing-apologist @junghaesin @stuffnonsenseandotherthings @slayerkitty @respectthepetty @chickenstrangers @sunshinechay @btwinlines for posting about this show every week and making it such a fun watch despite having a small audience on here. It was a pleasure watching this with you all!

[tubapun]

How I think the Mane 6 would blog on tumblr

Twilight Sparkle; would have a huge tagging and side blog system for colors, themes, characters, theories, pairings, and 2 designated tags for her friends, one for their posts and one for posts that make her think of them. Does a lot of science and language posting, as well as magic. Vent posts about her studies in a very poetic way. Never hits post limit after becoming a princess cause she doesn't have the time

Pinkie Pie; only tags she uses are various emojis and keysmashes, but if you take time to translate them you find that the emojis do actually have a system and many refer to her friends. Reblogs basically everything and anything so long as it makes her laugh, hits post limit a lot and has a queue that will never empty. Occasionally you'll see the most amazing baked goods ever made with the caption "made this for funsies lmao 😂😂😋😋"

Rainbow Dash; tags her interests, which means she has a wonderbolts tag, a weather tag, and a daring do tag. Otherwise she just scrolls and reblogs with occasional commentary, fairly standard user. Lots of wlw stuff tho, and a sideblog full of frou frou stuff she likes but doesn't want anyone to know about. She posts stunt fails a lot, but not hers. Lots of fanfic links tho. Hits post limit once or twice a month, more on DD release months

Fluttershy; very aesthetic based, literal cottage core. But also occasionally you'll see death metal and chaos stuff pop up because she meant to put em on a side blog but just can't always remember. No ask box at all cause she can't deal with answering them. When she hits post limit she apologizes for disappearing the next day. Tag system is mostly about animals, which she'll sometimes tack on facts about

Rarity; has a whole fashion blog with tags based on fabrics, jewels, seasons, the whole nine yards. She also reblogs aesthetic food pics, mostly sundaes. She only answers mean anons cause she gets to crytype her answers and it's a fun easy way to vent. Has a sideblog that she uses to post stuff pinkie tags her in cause she's very fond of her but by celestia that's not going on her main. Doesn't hit post limit

Applejack; has posted once, a single picture of an out of focus apple with her reflection in it, very clearly trying to figure out how camera work. The caption is "apnle tiem" because she can't type with her hooves damnit, everyone else uses their fancy magic or wings or whatever pinkie does, and she doesn't care enough to learn now, she only joined cause pinkie looked at her real sad cause she wanted to follow all her friends

[miraichado]

Yuu is a rock star.

warnings: theory about mc from twisted wonderland; possible errors (I used a translator, English is not my native language); raw text, mentions of drugs and alcohol; mentions of the dark side of show business; a lot, a lot of text!

from the author: I don't know why I had such an idea, but give me a little time to explain my theory

in essence, yuu (aka mc, aka [your name] is literally an empty shell. and this is not said in a bad way, rather, even in a positive way - this gives incredible scope for fantasy and guesses.

and here I will not go into theories about yuu and his fate in twst, you can read the body tag about yuu, which overblotted, there are many interesting theories.

Surely everything came out very crumpled, I apologize. This thought was so bright that I wrote down everything I could remember and logically build. Perhaps I will be able to make headcanons directly about yuu herself in my au, as well as the rest of the twst, and I am also eager to do something related to vdc, heh. It seemed like a funny idea to me to make yuu more daring, aware of life and accustomed to difficulties. I love her ^^

not long ago I was listening to several bands like maneskin, nirvana and another band that I will not name (I don’t know how to translate its name into English, sorry) and a headcanon for such a yuu appeared in my head

imagine that yuu in his world was literally a star. I’m inclined to believe that it was rock or punk, not pop. I think that yuu could have been influenced by: Mindless Self Indulgence, Nirvana, Maneskin, although the latter is more suitable for how I imagine a yuu-performer.

I saw headcanons for yuu-idol, but it seemed to me that there is a place for a more daring version of yuu. The one who smashes guitars on stage. The one who knows the taste of defeat and rise to the Olympus of celebrities. The one who doesn’t just sing, but literally lives on stage.

perhaps, yuu's teenage years in my headcanon are literally a hodgepodge of different shit: misunderstanding from parents, in society, searching for herself and understanding the world.

i don't think she would be a wallflower or anything like that, no damn, she wanted to declare herself, to shout about how she feels the world around her - she dresses exactly the way she wants, despite the reproaches of teachers/parents, listens to music so loudly in her room on the second floor that on the first floor, where yuu's parents ate peacefully, the cutlery in the cabinets shakes.

her main reference point then becomes music. she absorbs dozens of different bands, performers, looking for exactly what can resonate in her heart and when that very thudum in her chest happens, yuu begins to work to make her dream come true.

i think her first place of work and her favorite place in the city was a small music store with a thousand records, cassettes - old stuff, as her peers say. but yuu is so in love with this place - it's literally a corner surrounded by everything she loves to bits!

having saved up enough money, she picks up her first guitar, which she bought with her own money. I can't say for sure whether yuu in my headcanon received a musical education - let's leave that question unanswered for now - but yuu learns to play the guitar from books, tries to manage her energy in order to direct it into a musical direction.

I can assume that yuu didn't put together her band right away - gradually, when yuu would attend various parties in secret from her parents, she would communicate with someone a little. and that's how a circle of people who shared her interests appeared. and then they started trying to play together for the first time.

(of course, then I have a question - how old is Yuu? (suddenly thought, lol) considering that the first years in twst are 17(?), and that Yuu's age is not indicated anywhere in the game, I can give myself a little freedom - 18-19-20 (maximum). this is not too early for a career (looking back at reality), and not too old to join the Night Raven.)

so, let's get back.

gradually working together, yuu writes music and also tries to convert his energy into fuel for lyrics. it's not romantic, but not hard metal either - some strange middle ground.

I can also suggest that yuu lives in a world that is identical to ours, so the main promotion is through social networks, as well as through local festivals. maybe they perform covers of different songs at their first performances and videos of them are uploaded to various platforms, while yuu and another person (for some reason I have a feeling that this is either a keyboard player or a guitarist) are writing a solo album.

of course, the situation is not without pitfalls - parents and studies. probably parents, although not aggressively, but still clearly made it clear to yuu that she needs to get an education, and not run away from home at night to perform in suspicious clubs, but yuu clings to her dream of a career as an artist so strongly that she runs away from home with a scandal. runs around to friends to spend the night, works in that very store, I think the police could have taken up the case, if not for a happy coincidence.

contract with a producer. This is literally her golden ticket to release an album. I think the group was already popular online, but not in show business, so they needed a producer with experience who could help turn ordinary performances in small bars into entire stadiums, which the group dreamed of.

and this time, yuu's parents agreed as a reckless child, probably infected with the joy of the opportunity to fulfill a dream and, of course, money. signing a contract and all the work turns into a whole album.

shot - fortune is caught by the tail! - now the group is not just newcomers, but monsters-newcomers in the music industry! The first serious performances make the heads of young artists so dizzy that yuu is more excited than ever when the line in the charts with their solo album rises to a significant place.

and then a dizzying career begins - performances at festivals, interviews, recording songs for the next album, filming! - the group's schedule is scheduled by the day, and vocal lessons are also added to Yuu's. Despite her luck, in my headcanon Yuu is a workaholic, because she looks at things realistically - the more experience and knowledge she has, the more she can tell in her songs and show incredible results.

Perhaps their rise was dizzying, but this did not give them the right to sit back and wait for fortune to strike again - while they are holding tightly to this lady's tail, they need to squeeze out everything they can, because this sphere does not tolerate lazy people.

Yuu studies, sometimes stumbling and falling, hitting corners and getting into dark corners of this business, she learns more. Despite the dirt going on in her (let's also be realistic) and, perhaps, her dark sides of her personality are starting to show.

Surely, in such a tight schedule, there was alcohol and drugs, for relaxation. scandals? yes of course, journalists will be ready to spin different stories for the sake of sensation and get into places they shouldn't, especially with a group that took off so quickly.

yuu will learn to keep her rebellious nature in check and let them go only on stage and during recording, god, why am I sure that at concerts yuu will often growl into the microphone due to an excess of feelings? and if this doesn't help her, she will just smash her guitar to pieces on the last song?? oddities

she will get used to the media, and her rebellious nature will become a real armor in this area - she is blinded by this career, in love with music, despite the fact that she is kept on a chain like a cash cow?

god, why didn't we notice how the contract became more... tough? why is it only now that yuu realized that she literally lives in the studio? maybe my headcanon should have drama - like we don't have enough of that, yeah - she could sue the producer over a weirdly worded contract. it's sure to be the biggest sensation of the year, but the band managed to get out without any serious losses.

again an album, tours, work - yuu gets used to fame, to recognition, although not without problems - fans are different, of course, but she goes ahead, as always...

until at some point she woke up in a coffin and in a world where no one knew about her as a singer. in a world where magic was so woven into life that it was taken for granted. without a group, parents, acquaintances, all alone in this world.

but yuu wouldn't be yuu if she gave up, right?