#(also every time i get another one of these asks asking about more of my headcanons i cry tears of joy i just wanted to say that)

[pupyuj]

maybe some ghostface g!p wonyoung?🫣 fucking u with a knife pointed at ur neck oooh we love some extreme dubcon🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

i love love love scream sm and ghostface asks just make me giggle and kick my feet in the air YEAH IT’S WEIRD IDC BUT IT FUELS MY BRAIN SEND MORE 🤪 this is once again another drabble that might be disturbing/triggering for some so please read at your own risk!!

[cw: extreme dubcon, violence, brainwashing, manipulation, knife play, blood kink, murder 😭]

now hear me out… photographer!wony who has grown obsessed with amateur model!reader during your time together as colleagues.. you’re a fresh find in the industry, only having involved in a few small projects and you considered working w an acclaimed photographer like wonyoung such an honor! you practically worshipped her—studied her work through the hundreds of magazines she has worked on and you even keep up with her social media accounts bcs even the photos she takes on her phone are art! but truth to be told, wony wasn’t all too enthusiastic about working with a rookie but you were pretty enough that she sucked it up! plus, she was tired of all the bossy older, experienced models who always thought they knew better than the girl behind the camera 😒😒

wony being so pleasantly surprised with your talent that after the first time you worked together, she becomes very willing to work with you again! and again, and again.. until the two of you were eventually acquaintances, but that was also when wony starts getting… well, territorial over you 🫣 but she wasn’t stupid. she knew it wasn’t normal to want to gouge out the eyes of every man that looks at you for a second too long.. but wonyoung really can’t help it! 😣 you’re such a precious little gem that she just wants to lock you up in her basement and make herself the only person to ever set eyes on you…

getting comfortable around wony to the point that you allow her to be in a changing room with you as you dress up for a photoshoot,, asking her if you look pretty and never once catching that dark look in her eyes or the way she licks her lips as she thinks about all the things she wants to do to you… ugh, she gets so hard just looking at you in your pretty little outfits.. sometimes it comes to the point where she pretends to fix something in the outfit just so she can be close to you and inhale your perfume… as well as press her bulge against your ass.. even though you pretend not to notice it, wonyoung always takes note of how your breath hitches and how you move closer to her slightly,, fuck every time there’s a break, wony has to run to the washrooms to jerk off bcs the feeling was sometimes overwhelming.. but gosh, did it all feel good 😵‍💫😵‍💫

it wasn’t until you start gaining more and more attention that wonyoung loses her head though.. she goes on a killing spree in a ridiculous fucking costume, mercilessly taking the life of those that thought they could ever take you from her.. you were the one who noticed the odd pattern: all of those that this ‘ghostface’ killed has interacted with you at least once.. and more than half of them have tried to woo you, so in a sense, this ‘ghostface’ would be protecting you in a really messed up way but you had no idea who would do such a thing for you 🫣🫣 unfortunately wonyoung fucks up one day; after one of her kills, you come over to her home for a quick rundown of another one of your projects together.. and while the two of you sat on her bed, that was when you saw a piece of the dark cloak ‘ghostface’ always wore stuffed haphazardly in wonyoung’s closet.. and then you just noticed the little droplets of blood on the carpet floor.. so dark and have clearly been there for a while…

wonyoung had already noticed that you already pieced it together and made her move before you can say or do or think anything—“not a word, little mouse.” and then you feel it: cold steel. the side of a knife being pressed flat against your neck, the sharp edge being so dangerously close to your collarbone.

no bcs?? you can’t tell me wony wouldn’t find pleasure in your reaction when she lists down all the suitors she has killed.. something in her sick, twisted mind dances happily every time the fear in your eyes gets bigger and stronger, you were practically frozen on her bed as you listened to the exact ways wonyoung murdered her victims.. some of them were close coworkers, acquaintances, friends. and gosh, ofc wony takes this opportunity to finally get her hands on you! 🤭 sitting there while her one free hand explores your body :(( squeezing your breasts, gliding down from your stomach all the way to your core.. “you’re wet? you’re a little freak, aren’t you..? getting turned on despite being touched by a murderer??”

having no choice but to follow her every command :(( laying down all comfortably in her bed, crying silently while wonyoung takes her sweet time taking her clothes off before mounting you, her bare cock dangerously close to your clothed entrance.. “not gonna try and run? smart girl. i wouldn’t want to kill you.. i love you, (y/n)… you can’t let me do that.. so be good.” her kisses were sweet and soft and for a second, you thought that even if she fucks you against your will, maybe she’ll be gentle.. but you were dumber than you actually looked bcs the second you let your guard down, wonyoung creates a small cut on your collarbone and quickly licks it.. practically moaning at your wincing and how you blood tasted eugh she was so freaky! 😭

also, she would be laughing while you struggled against her?? being so scared that she’ll hurt you again you actually try to break free of her hold and shit but she’s just cackling while you thrash underneath her.. feeling so, so weak while she cuts your clothes up.. she’s giggling and everything! so excited to finally see you naked and touch that delicate skin of yours.. and it rlly takes her all of her willpower to not just cut you up and see just how beautiful you’d look with blood all over you 😰😰 you’d beg and beg for her not to hurt you, feeling the cold metal of the knife against your neck as you cry and plead to wonyoung who was rlly just having the time of her life… but things were weird! she has violated you, hurt you, literally killed people you’ve come to know… and you find her so attractive with her face all scrunched up and her head thrown back while she rocks her hips and rams her cock inside you…

at some point you even wrapped your arms around her waist bcs it felt so good 😵‍💫 you forgot that you were fucking with a murderer and could only think of the wonyoung you knew from before… jang wonyoung, your role model.. and well, suffice to say that was enough for you to agree to everything that she was saying to you and have her cum inside you 🥴 and it wouldn’t even stop there! with or without your consent, wony would be fucking you all night! just in case something happens that would separate the two of you after this night..

ya’ll can’t tell me that she wouldn’t try to manipulate you even more after that day! 🫣 scaring you into not saying a peep about her identity, threatening your career and your whole fucking life if you even think of going to the police.. ofc she was successful! and yes she still continues to be ghostface ofc 🫢 every time someone hits on you while wonyoung was around, your heart would sink low to your stomach knowing she was going to get rid of them.. but not after reminding you who you belong to in an empty changing room 🤭🤭 would also love to think that she would be fucked in the head enough to mold you into her little sidekick?? telling you about her ghostface ways and feeling immensely proud when you claim your first kill who happens to be another model who was way too interested in your wonyoung-nim! 😣

wonyoung would only be completely satisfied after she has turned her favorite doll into a cute little puppet 🤭

[lotties-ashwagandha]

POWER CURES

tashi donaldson x fem!reader, word count 4.2k. NSFW!

your career in sports journalism has made you one of the most successful women in your field — a career you built on your own after you broke up with tashi donaldson at stanford. yet rivalry still burns between you, and whenever given the opportunity you can't help but add fuel to the fire. requested by @elaci who also writes for challengers so go follow :)

“It’s a miracle he’s still playing,” you say. “Art showed so much passion today, I could feel it. Maybe next time he could focus on hitting the ball instead of smashing ants on the court with his racket – it just sends the wrong message I think, not very eco-friendly.” 

Tashi shakes her head, attempting to brush off your comment, but you can feel the silent fury you’ve stirred up in her. Her expression is partially hidden by her sunglasses as the two of you stand at the edge of the court, her only guard from your scrutiny. It’s been nine years since you’ve spoken to her, but the four years you dedicated to her before that taught you every one of her tells. She’s different now – she wears her hair short, her makeup darker, age and experience have made her seem solemn. But you can feel it, that under all of the change she is still the same. 

“At least he still plays,” she says sharply. “You’re the critic, the journalist, but you would get on the court and get yourself knocked the fuck out. Art works, he doesn’t lock himself in the basement to write pity-party bullshit for money.” 

“Neither do I,” you smile. “I don’t write anything for money, though I do enjoy the benefits.” 

“You’ve always been greedy,” Tashi accuses. “You enjoy taking what isn’t yours, and destroying what you can’t reach.” 

You shrug. You won’t attempt to deny it – greed is what got you into this profession, and greed is what has held you up to survive it. Greed is what got you a million dollar mansion and the audience that paid for it, and greed is what has you standing at the side of Tashi Donaldson as you watch her husband step off the tennis court after losing another match to add to his streak this year. 

“If you write anything about this match, I will end your career,” Tashi says casually, because power means nothing to her, and using it is easy. She takes off her sunglasses, puts them in her purse that costs more money than your car. When she meets your eyes, there’s stoic sureness in her gaze. 

“It’s sweet that you think I only came here for you.” 

She gives you a hard look, searching you for the truth if she couldn’t trust it to come from your words. Whatever conclusion she would come up with was none of your concern – it’s true that you hadn’t come here for her, not completely. You’re here for another set of competitors, the headliners of the women’s division. If there was one thing you could use to define your career, it wouldn’t be the Donaldsons, or the Duncans – it would be your influence on women’s tennis. Your journalism through the years has put women in the spotlight of the sport, and for as long as you could you would continue the mission of keeping them there. 

But when you had seen Tashi’s husband playing in the final match of the day, and when you had seen her watching him alone at the sidelines, you couldn’t help but take advantage of it. Your comments and motives were petty, but deserved. 

You see Art begin to approach the two of you with his gym bag. “That’s my cue, isn’t it?” you ask. You try to avoid Art at all cost even after all these years, it creates a situation more awkward for you than for him. “I don’t think he needs me to lecture him, not again.” 

You begin to depart from Tashi’s side, but then you pause and turn back to her. “I’ll be in New Rochelle for the Challengers tournament in a few weeks,” you tell her. “Maybe there’s someone there your husband could beat, for a change.” 

Tashi scoffs, and you take your chance to leave before you can be joined by Art or any of the reporters or journalists following in his wake. You’ve done your work for the day, your air-conditioned hotel room is calling to you and you’re all too prepared to run to it. 

When you stand at the exit to the tennis court, you spare a look back in the direction of the Donaldsons. Tashi is immersed in giving feedback to Art as he stands in childlike submission. Her hands are planted on his shoulders, she’s looking into his eyes, and when she spares a look at the court a sense of nostalgia washes over you as you remember how it felt to watch her play. How she used to win every game she signed to compete in, how effortless her victories were. 

In a way, you miss it. You miss her. The promise of her victories that would pull you through in college, that you could look forward to watching and writing about. The memory of it sparks a flare of anger within you – four years, erased, yet still so potent in your memory. 

You turn away from the court. You push through the crowd, in your pride you stand a little taller than the rest. Against you is the only match Tashi Duncan could never win. 

You pass by the doors of the locker rooms on your way out. You know Tashi must have waited with Art in his locker room before the match started – a private locker room, you would suspect, or one they bought out for the day in a grand show of money.

You frown. How many times had you waited with Tashi in locker rooms until tournaments began, how many times had you come in after her matches to listen to her talk through them while she got ready to leave? Enough times to know you weren’t alone in reminiscing, that Tashi could escape the memories with no more ease than you could. 

THIRTEEN YEARS AGO, STANFORD. 

You resist a smile – you can’t let her win, though you can see she’s trying inexplicably hard to. She never takes it seriously when you try to interview her for assignments for your classes at Stanford. 

“I can’t put that in my paper,” you tell Tashi. “I’d get us kicked out.” 

Tashi shrugs, stepping toward you as you stand in the locker room alone together after her match. “You asked what I was thinking about during the game. I was thinking about you.” 

You roll your eyes. You lean back against the lockers, and Tashi takes advantage of it, coming up in front of you to box you in. Her eyes meet yours – her intensity is unmatched, even after she’s won every game of tennis this season that’s been thrown at her by the university. Power means nothing to her, because using it is easy. 

“You don’t believe me?” Tashi asks. Nothing goes unnoticed by her, it was brave to roll your eyes. “You’re all I think about.” 

“Tennis is all you think about.” 

Instead of correcting you, she kisses you. Your hands find her waist, and wrap around her back when you pull her closer. She consumes your thoughts, your mind, and you’re happy to keep it that way with disregard to the price you might pay for it. 

Tashi’s hands slip under your shirt. One travels up your side, under your bra. You arch into her touch, senses clouded with her – until you hear voices outside the locker room, people leaving the building. 

You pull out of the kiss as the voices fade, and immediately she’s kissing your neck. “This is a terrible idea,” you murmur half-heartedly. You want her to prove you wrong. 

“No one’s coming in, I was the last match.” 

“But they could come in.” 

“They won’t.” 

You don’t seem convinced. Tashi moves to look at you, and tilts her head. 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” she demands. You see how she craves you, she’s willing to indulge herself after her latest victory. It wouldn’t be the first time you would find yourself here, against the lockers with every intention of letting her use you in the way she wishes. She sees through your words – she knows you want this just as much as she does. 

“No,” you say, because you do want this. You’ve wanted her all morning, since you saw her warming up for her match. And even if someone were to come in and find you with her, pressed up against the lockers and at her will, it would only prove a fact you dream of everyone knowing anyway: that in every way, Tashi Duncan is yours. Audiences may celebrate her, anyone might desire her, but at the end of every day it’s you she comes home to. It’s you she wants. 

“Good,” she mutters, and presses you harder against the locker, pressing space between your legs with her knee. She kisses down your neck, and one of her hands travels below the waistband of your shorts while the other is still at your chest. Her hands are cold against the warmth of your skin, sending a chill rippling down your back. 

“Be quiet,” Tashi orders, and you nod. An empty promise, but you’ll try your best. “Good girl.” 

Her praise has you biting back a moan as her knee moves away and her hand slides between your thighs. You can’t hold her gaze, the gravity it holds. 

Your hips chase her hand as she circles your clit – your hips buck back against the lockers, and the sound echoes through the room, and your moan would accompany the noise if not muffled by Tashi’s hand over your mouth. A quick reaction on her end, she knows your body better than you do. 

“Quiet,” Tashi whispers. She presses a kiss to the edge of your jaw, below your ear. You try for a deep breath, but it’s shaky. “I’m fucking you here, and you’re moaning? Anyone could hear you. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nod again, her hand still over your mouth. Your eyes fall closed, her touch burns through you like fire. It’s not enough, it’s too much, it’s everything you need and more. 

Tashi feels the pleasure building in you – it inspires her to interrupt it, to pull both of her hands from you. 

You whine in protest, watching her in curious alarm. You need this, she knows you do. 

Tashi’s hands find your hips, and she watches you closely. A sadistic sort of smile pulls at her lips, one that has you squirming, reaching for her again. Your attempts are futile, your yearning feeds her desire to starve you, push you to your limits. “You have to be patient,” she says. 

And you will be, though everything in you aches for her. You will let her win, let her pick your cards and cheat the game to end in her favor. You’re content with it – a side that is not without reward to you as Tashi lowers to her knees in front of you, and when she looks up at you, she already knows she’s won. 

THIRTEEN YEARS LATER, NEW ROCHELLE.

The sun glares down at you through the windshield, but despite its best efforts, it cannot reach you. It’s cool in your car – it combats the sweltering heat of the morning in New Rochelle as you sit waiting for the final matches to start on the second day of the Challengers tournament. You don’t want to go sit down too early, there’s no point in submitting yourself to the discomfort of hot metal seats amongst the swarm of the audience until you have to. You’re content to sit here with your eyes closed for as long as you can, you finally have a moment to yourself after the chaos of traveling to New Rochelle. 

Tapping on your window makes you jump. Your eyes snap open, and when you see who waits on the other side of your car window, you wish you’d never traveled to the tournament at all. You knew he would be here, you saw him competing yesterday, but you had successfully avoided him and had left early after the first few matches.  

You roll your window down. Patrick Zweig stares at you with the most dumbass fucking smile you’ve witnessed in years. 

“Well, look who it is!” He exclaims. He leans an arm against the top of your car, but you shove him off of it through the window. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap. He frowns, and you sigh. It’s been nine years since you’ve seen him in person – since you broke up with Tashi – and not a day has passed in which you can decisively say you have missed him. 

“I’m competing,” he says. 

You furrow your eyebrows. “I know that. Why are you here, talking to me?” 

Patrick shrugs. “Can’t I take a second to reconnect with an old friend?” 

“An old friend?” you ask. “I don’t think we were ever friends.” 

“Maybe not, but I know you’ll be hoping I win instead of Art this afternoon.” 

You pause. “Art Donaldson? He’s here, competing?” 

“Yeah. You know, I was told you invited him and Tashi. It’s everywhere online. That’s why I came over here, to say thank you for setting up the match. Art and I are the only ones left in the division. I wanted to wish you luck, too, with whatever it is you plan to get out of having us all here.” 

You don’t respond for a moment. Vaguely you recall inviting Tashi to the Challengers tournament a few weeks ago after Art’s loss – Maybe there’s someone there your husband could beat for a change – but you had disregarded it. You had meant the entire thing as a joke, a jab at Art’s poor tennis performance. Never would you have expected the Donaldsons to remotely consider participating in a Challengers tournament. You regret leaving early yesterday, missing their arrival at a tournament so far beneath them. You would have enjoyed witnessing their shame. 

“I didn’t set anything up,” you tell Patrick, yet you doubt the validity of your own statement. “And I’m not planning on getting anything out of it.” 

“Whatever you say. I just know Tashi wouldn’t bother with something like this for the hell of it. Either Art’s tennis has gotten really fucking bad for them to stoop to a tournament this low, or she’s using him to be here with you. Or, of course, both can be true. I’m going with both.” 

You shake your head. “Tashi has no interest in me.” 

“It’s been nine years since she left you, and she still hates you. She would probably fucking stab you if given the chance. That’s not something to take lightly with her, it takes more than resentment to hold onto something that long. Even I’m not as lucky.” 

“I’m not interested in making amends with Tashi Donaldson.” 

Patrick shrugs. He gives you a look, I don’t believe you, that you want to punch him for. You have nothing to say to Tashi, no reason to wish to see her. You went up to talk to her those weeks ago at Art’s game because you wanted to taunt her with your presence. You wanted her to see that you were successful without her, you don’t need her. 

You wanted her to see you – you realize how it sounds, and that there’s no way you would win a dispute with Patrick if your only explanation for reconnecting with Tashi is I wanted her to see that I’m better than her husband. You look back to him with a facade of nonchalance. 

You don’t know what to say, so you shift the focus back to him. “You’re going to get killed in a match against Art.” 

“How would you know? You haven’t seen me play in years.”

“I don’t need to.” 

“Wow, thanks for having so much faith in me.” 

You roll your eyes. 

Patrick’s gaze shifts to something beyond your car, something his eyes trail for a few seconds before he turns back to you. “I need to go warm up,” he announces, and backs away from your car. “Write something heroic about me to publish when I win, will you?” 

You roll up your window. You watch him disappear from the parking lot. Peace still evades you once he’s gone – that Tashi would be coming to the tournament is enough to have you nearly in hysterics. The promise of her soon arrival has adrenaline coursing through you, though the emotion accompanying it is indecipherable. 

You loathe Tashi Donaldson. You hate her husband even more. But there’s something so addictive about being around her to prove it. To prove that it was a mistake to end things with you and pursue Art shortly after, that he could never live up to you. Your fame came from success in writing and journalism, Art’s fame came from Tashi and viral videos of Art flinging tennis rackets after his losses. It felt good for you to prove your worth in contrast to his. You finally have power over them, and you have every intention of using it. 

For better or worse, you still care about Tashi’s opinion of you. For better or worse, you still care for Tashi Duncan. 

A car pulls into the empty spot next to you. The glare of the sun against it burns your eyes, leaves you with the start of a headache. 

You turn to look at the owners of the vehicle. Immediately you understand what Patrick had been spying beyond your car, and why he had been so quick to flee. 

You missed them yesterday, but you wouldn’t miss them today. You turn your car off and get out. 

“Need help carrying that?” You ask Art as he picks up his gym bag out of the trunk of the car beside yours. “I don’t want you to break any rackets.” 

“That would look good for you,” he says dryly. He shuts the trunk. “To make it seem like you’re making amends.” 

“I have nothing to make amends for.” 

He’s silent. You have two thousand words to make amends for, actually, but you’ll never be caught apologizing. You wrote an article about Art’s tennis years ago that gave you much of your fame – an article that had suggested Art was one of the worst tennis players to come out of Stanford, and that it was a shame he was using Tashi’s injury to his advantage by convincing her to coach his mediocre games. You implied that he was using her, that he was a cheater in the very least as far as tennis was concerned. 

It was never your finest moment, but you would never regret it. He deserved it, and so did Tashi for the way the two of you left your relationship. 

A car door slams. You’re joined by Tashi. In a light blue dress she’s stunning, radiant beyond comparison with the man she comes to stand by. A man she knows she cannot defend, a man beneath her. 

She gives Art a tyrannical look. He’s going to go find the locker room, he says, as if he hadn’t played here yesterday, and with a final look between you and Tashi he takes his bag and begins his way across the parking lot. 

You’re left alone with Tashi. The two of you are silent – she’s waiting for you to say something, and you’re waiting to come up with something that sounds right. 

“I saw you talking to Patrick,” Tashi says at last. You nod. “Did he tell you he asked me to coach him?” 

A smile pulls at your lips. “No, he didn’t.” 

“Good. Now you have something to write about,” she says, taking a step towards you, “when he loses. You can write about how he tried so desperately to come out on top, and you can write about who he lost to.” 

It’s not about Art anymore. It’s not about Patrick, it’s not about this tournament. It’s about you. Tashi’s reversal, her revenge. She won when she left you ten years ago, you won with your article, and Tashi Donaldson has never been one to keep a tie. She’s been keeping score for nine years in preparation for an opportunity such as this, one to set the record in her favor. 

“I’m not interested in placing bets on failed prodigies.” 

“You’re not too good for it, though.” 

“You are. At least you should have been.” 

Tashi shakes her head. “What the fuck does that mean?” 

“You know what it means,” you say, and step closer. “It should be you on that court, not them. I should be writing about you.” 

You know you’ve struck a nerve. Tashi stills. Her expression was once unreadable, but now it reveals her resentment. At you maybe, but also at fate itself, because you’re right: it should be her competing. Winning for herself and not through others. She still bears the weight of power, but it’s no longer hers to use. 

“Your husband is going to lose,” you say, and you both know it’s a lie. But you will be there when Art wins, you will be there waiting for her to prove you wrong like she’s always craved. If it is winning that will let her make amends with herself, you will be the harbinger. You will let her cheat the game just so she can win. Maybe it’s all you’ve wanted this whole time, inviting her to the Challengers tournament. 

Maybe it’s your way of making amends. 

“Any final words before the game?” You ask, in the way you always used to ask her before her matches. Any final words. You used to laugh together about how apocalyptic it sounded, and Tashi used to watch you write about her after and use her quotes for assignments for your university classes. 

Tashi remembers the phrase, you see recognition sweep over her. She watches you closely, and behind her facade you see something too reminiscent to be hatred. “Fuck you,” she says, though her voice lacks animosity. 

“Is that on the record?” 

“Yes.” 

An uncanny way of making amends, but one you would welcome all the same. 

-

Her gaze sears into you as you sit in the stands watching the match. Tashi sits on the opposite side of the court, yet the two of you are positioned with a clear view of one another throughout the game. 

The score has fluctuated throughout the match. Patrick and Art have stayed consistent in score and loss – it’s closer than you thought it would be, enough that you see Tashi’s concern growing over the end result. Art is wearing, he’s becoming tired, and you know if he quits in his exhaustion he’ll leave with another loss. The Donaldsons will lose credibility, Tashi will disappear in the eyes of the media. 

You find yourself conflicted in all ways related to the match continuing before you. You want Art to lose every match he signs for – yet the thought of Tashi going down with him haunts you. Even after all she has done to you, all you have done to her, she deserves better than any path offered.  

You pause – the match has ended, the audience stands in applause. You stand to view the court, peering over shoulders, pushing your way out of the audience. 

Art Donaldson, standing in the middle of the court. He basks in the glory given by his victory, one long suspended in anticipation for you to be witness. He looks up to find Tashi in the stands, and you watch as something unsaid passes between them. An I told you so on Art’s end, and something unsatisfied from Tashi’s. 

You don’t need to watch the rest of it. You don’t need to see Art’s self-ordered victory lap, and you don’t need to hear the speech he’ll give the reporters waiting to flock to him. You don’t need to see Tashi by his side, so you leave the court. 

You make your way through the tennis complex. Fluorescent lights stare you down, their judgment shines brighter for you. You don’t give them anything to taunt you with, keeping your expression flat. It was obvious Art would win, and in his victory Tashi has been fulfilled. 

The click of heels trails you. You spare a glance over your shoulder as you walk, and you pause. Her eyes are on you alone in the empty hall. 

“Congratulations,” you say, dull. “Do you feel better now? I see Art does.” 

“Fuck Art,” she snaps. Tashi is empowered in her pride, which has not been placed in her husband, but in herself. This is not his victory, it belongs to her. She closes the distance between you, and if you moved back any further you’d be leaning against the wall. The door to the locker room is across the hall – your memories hardly feel like your own, hardly feel like they belong just the same to the woman in front of you, but they crash through you anyway. 

“This feels familiar,” you murmur, looking up at her. You look to see if the halls are empty, but Tashi wastes no such time – she pulls you against her, her lips on yours, hunger in her touch as the two of you realize how much time you have to make up for and so little opportunity for it. Her nails dig into the back of your neck until her hand weaves into your hair, and like you always have you melt into her every desire. 

“I win,” Tashi says once she pulls away. Her eyes bear into yours, dark and unforgiving, dominating. “I fucking win.” 

There’s nothing that could prove her wrong. Power cures, if you know how to use it. 

—

—

—

i wrote this fic so many different times honestly and i kept a few of the scenes I deleted from it bc it was getting too long so if anyone wants a part 2 lmk andddd i can put something together 😔

[edgeray]

Hi Ray! 🍅 Anon here~

Have fun on your holiday and enjoy it to the best you can! Be sure to stay hydrated, the weather is really mental these days.

Just wanted to share a bit of brainrot I had regarding soft Arle, whether or not you choose to make it into a fic is up to you!

Arle with her frame and demeanor is most definitely the Top + Dom in the relationship with reader, but how about when she’s insecure? Seeing reader take care of the children and feeling as though she doesn’t deserve to be as loved as said children, then reader after putting the kids to bed embraces Arle and puts her head against their chest so Arle can hear their heartbeat more clearly while patting Arle and assuring her that they love her for her and that she DEFINITELY deserves to be spoilt… (reader knows Arle too well to not pick up on her tells and knows that Arle’s being harsh on herself)

Or maybe reader writing in to the Tsaritsa (without Arle knowing) to ask if Arle can take a 2 week break just to take care of the children and spend time as a couple (What if!! Tsaritsa was the one who wed them!!! And just closes both eyes and approves time off). Then reader proceeds to spoil Arle in every way possible - breakfast in bed, a warm bath after sparring with the children (no, not that kind of bath, but a fluffy one where Arle gets a shoulder massage and scrubbed clean and gets lots of loving kisses everywhere she’s insecure of), a feast of sashimi and steak tartare for dinner and a soft bed and loving wife in the night. I wanna spoil Arle like that but 😭

Oh! And since Harbingers are like celebrities in Snezhnaya, do you think Arle would have a fanclub there? Think about it! She’s young, has a boatload of money (you CANNOT convince me #4 doesn’t have money when #11 has an unimaginable sum at the bank), can handle kids well (she runs the HotH), and as a Harbinger who fights she probably is ripped (RIP her actual body proportions, they’re limited by Hoyo’s models, nobody is convincing me her body type isn’t like Lady Maria’s from Bloodborne, with abs, guns and muscular. Thighs.)

0 chance that she doesn’t have a line of sapphics lining up for her in Snezhnaya, even with the rumors of her being ruthless and cruel (I mean. If the rumors worked in making people back off. Arle simps like us wouldn’t exist to begin with lmao)… Imagine Arle trying to placate Jealous!Teasing!Reader!! Like Arle coming home on Valentine’s day a bit late to find reader teasing her about having a new lover meanwhile Arle was actually out buying a new dagger for reader to protect themselves with… reader being melodramatic because she knows and trusts Arle enough that Arle would never do anything like that (and Arle knows but plays along)

R: “Oh, woe is me! My wife came home late on Valentine’s with a dagger to end our relationship, whatever should I do?”

Arle: “My love…”

And if the children are around? They’d be busy either pretending they didn’t see anything or resisting the urge to claw their eyes out or handing each other eye bleach. Sending condolences to Lyney when one of the younger children ask something along the lines of

“Brother Lyney, do you think we’ll have another sibling soon if Father and Mother are this loving with each other”

(I headcanon that Arle does teach them sexuality education but not until they’re 10 and before that the older children tell their younger siblings that children pop into existence when Papa and Mama love each other lots)

I’m so sorry this is getting really out of hand but Arle has me in a brainrot when I should be focusing elsewhere 💀

Rest Your Worries, Lax Your Heart

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Thank you, I did have a fun vacation :). Wow that is a lot and I love every single bit of this ask 🍅 anon. It'd be unfair if I just wrote one part and not all of them, so what did I do? Combined all of them as best as I can, but of course some details had to be omitted/changed because of that–hopefully you don't mind. I'm a fucking genius. Also considering that Arle has an anime, but never got a beach episode, this is said beach episode. This took so long because this turned out to be pretty self-indulgent (I'm sure you know which scene it was). This is a long boi, way over what the request range is supposed to be, but hope this is worth it? Somehow, my brain was able to focus for at least like… 4 hours. Started this at 23:00 something, and it's nearly 04:00. 🍅 anon, I enjoy your asks, so I hope you personally enjoy this one :)  Content warnings / info - a bit of suggestiveness, reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise gn!, 3.2k words 

It took a lot of back and forth over the span of four months, writing to the Tsaritsa, but you had finally been able to arrange this without the knowledge of your husband. The Archon, generous as she is, approved of your proposal for a two week long break without much pushback or questioning, saying that loyalty was rewarded and as one of her more productive Harbingers, Arlecchino’s efforts warrant her a break. All the Tsaritsa asked for was the general details of the vacation: when, where, and the activities you would be doing, which was easy enough to answer to. Surprisingly, she bought an entire section of the Sumeru coast along with a sizable cabin for the two of you and the children for the duration of your respite when you told where you plan on the location being. You're not one to turn down such a gracious offer so you accepted it. As a Pyro user, she would surely enjoy somewhere as warm as Sumeru. 

Currently, you're holding the letter from the Tsaritsa, which contains a direct order from the Archon addressed to Arlecchino to stay at Sumeru. No matter how much you plead for her to rest, your husband only says that she can keep working and for you to not worry. Tracing the envelope stamp, you breathe in deeply before knocking on the door.

“Yes?” Called from beyond the door. 

“Can I come in, Arle?”

“Yes, my love,” she says with a lilt. 

You come in, striding towards her, holding up the back of the envelope while trying to suppress your smile. “This was addressed for you.”

Arlecchino takes it with a bit of suspicion at the crack in your facial expression. Turning it over, she notices the stamp, which is the mark of the word of the Archon. She narrows her brows and takes out a letter opener, taking out the letter with a bit more urgency. You watch her expression morph from confusion to mild shock to indifference again. 

“What does it say?” You inquire her, biting your lip to hide the smile.

“It says that I'm going to Sumeru in three days. For a respite.” She eyes you carefully, her eyes glinting red. “But you seem to know that already.” 

You nod, a smile forming . “I thought… you were working so hard, and you deserve a break. I asked the Tsaritsa if it was possible and she agreed to it, even paying for our stay there.” 

Arlecchino's face flicks to something indecipherable, like there was a hesitation, but it quickly disappears before you can think too much on it. She gets up from her desk chair, strutting to you before wrapping her arms around your midsection, pulling you into an embrace. She presses a tender kiss against your forehead. “Thank you, my dear, for your thinking of me. I'm sure the children would appreciate being out of the House. I'll tell the children about this, and we should begin packing.”  

But does she appreciate it? It's for her, after all. You chew on the inside of your cheek but your smile remains in place.

You tilt your head up to kiss her cheek. “I already packed for us. And I told the kids, already.”

“Hm, that's why they seem so antsy lately. Thank you,” Arlecchino hums. “You picked for us already?”

“Yes. Including your clothes,” you chuckle, deviously imagining her in the attires you picked out for her. At that, she raises her eyebrows.

“Oh? What are you planning, my love?” She teases, seizing your chin in her hands and tilting your head up to lock her eyes with yours. You can't stop the giggle that bubbles out. 

“Nothing too… scandalous…” you answer back. “Don't worry, it's nothing too bad. This is all for you to relax, remember? You've been working so hard, been such a good husband, so…”

You lean forward to kiss her on the mouth. Whispering against her lips, you say, “As your partner, it's my duty to make sure you're happy. Isn't that right?”

If she physically could at that moment, Arlecchino would melt underneath your words. 

—

Upon your arrival at Sumeru, you were glad you picked the outfits that you did. Travel with around twenty kids was difficult, but luckily the older kids, the twins and Freminet especially, helped a lot. Everyone was practically vibrating in excitement, with the exception of Arlecchino, though you knew it was mostly because of how inexpressive she usually was. 

Right? 

Currently, the two of you lay on the sand by the crystal clear waters, enjoying the sight of the children playing. The little ones are playing in the sand, presumably sculpting a castle, and the older ones are either engaging in a heated battle involving smacking a ball around or with Freminent in the ocean. Here, you forget that they’re a part of the Fatui, child soldiers for the Tsaritsa; here, they look like normal children and it makes your heart swell. 

Unfortunately, you're stuck in a dilemma–observe your children and take in their contagious laughter, or ogle your husband who is in the most delicious and mouth-watering attire possible. Underneath her short gray collarless jacket, was a cropped, sleeveless turtleneck that exposed her lower half of her toned stomach, including her v-line. Below are tight, black leggings which do little in hiding her muscular thighs. Everytime you look at her, a flush runs to your cheeks and you find yourself too flustered for your stare to linger because of the growing amount of indecent thoughts. You breathe deeply in an attempt to calm the raging storms of desire in your stomach, distracting yourself by observing the waves and digging your feet in the sand. For the sake of your children, you'd like for your mind to be as pure as possible. 

Blackened arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a lap. You squeal at the sudden contact. Your husband's mouth hovers beside your ear, hot breath brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Something interesting?” Arlecchino huskily whispers, making you shudder. One hand strokes over your stomach, invoking shivers from you. You inhale sharply before glancing at Arlecchino's face. 

“Just… watching the waves. It's calming,” you lie quickly, wondering if your racing heartbeat can be felt underneath her fingertips. 

“Your heart says otherwise,” she chuckles, turning your head over your shoulder so she can kiss you. 

After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, and your eyes flick over to the children in the sand, still tossing around that ball over a net. “Why don't you join them? I'm sure they would love it if their Father joined their game.”

“My dear, I would destroy them,” Arlecchino bluntly remarks, and you chuckle. 

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The two of you watch them in silence until Arlecchino breaks the silence. 

“I like what you picked for me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your reaction is adorable.” 

Something white-hot pricks the back of your neck. “I-I'm glad you like it. I like it too,” you stammer out, your abashment evident in your voice. 

“I can tell. Perhaps… you'd like to help me put on sun protection?” Arlecchino teases with a small smirk, removing her jacket off to reveal her lean biceps. “Over the pants, if that's alright.”

This handsome–sexy–woman is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Your heart is going into overdrive, and you would be terrified of going into a stroke if you aren't more focused on your husband's physique. If it's not your heart that's going to kill you, it's the pending combustion inside of you. You squeeze your thighs against one another, pooling heat forming between your legs. 

“Y-yeah, sure,” you manage in between your laboring breathing, getting off of her lap to face her. Spreading the paste in your hand, you first venture over her neck, tenderly rubbing over her throat and then her nape, down to her sides. Her skin is hot to the touch, as expected of a Pyro user, but it somehow retains softness and flawlessness despite all the combat and harshness your husband deals with as a Fatui Harbinger. Still, unlike her composed facial features, you can feel that her pulse is as frenzied as yours–it gives you comfort that you’re not the only one feeling this. Your husband hums with contentment, watching you carefully. 

Next, you slide your hands over to her broad shoulders before feeling down her upper arm, deliberate attention to her biceps. A shuddering breath comes from you as she shifts, extending her arms more out towards you. You trace down the markings of her arm before caressing her inky elbow and forearms. Finally, you get to her wrists. An idea pops in your head as you bring her hands to your lips, kissing her knuckles and rings, giving special focus onto her engagement ring. An amused huff escapes from her, and you glance back at her. Her eyes gleam with such a rare fondness, reserved only for you. 

You glance down at the only part of her that's yet been touched, your stomach churning in itself when you're able to get a closer, longer look. You gulp considerably, your hands shaking slightly as they hover over it. 

A charcoal hand wraps around your wrist, gently guiding your palm to her until it's flushed against her skin. “Don't be shy now, love.” She smirks wickedly and you have the sense to kiss that smile off her face. 

“Shut up,” you murmur meekly, but place both hands on her stomach, your fingertips traversing over every dips created by her well-muscles stomach. It feels like your body will implode at any second now, as her body heat infects your fingers and spreads to the rest of your body. You coat her waist before your touch lingers lower, just above the waistband of her pants. You trace the indent of her v-line, your fingers nearly dip underneath her leggings. Before it can, she stops you, grasping both of your wrists with one hand as she leans in to whisper hotly near your ear.

“Let's save that for later, hm?” 

—

“Lyney, what are they doing?” One of the children inquires, as they point at Mother and Father still by the water. Father remains on top of Mother, seemingly applying sun protection, though Lyney isn't quite sure if their position is truly that… innocent. 

“Oh… Father is just helping Mother, like how I helped with the sun protection on your back,” Lyney quickly comes up with an explanation, looking away from them. 

The child remains silent, observing the older male's expression, before looking back at them once more. “Lyney, you said that when a mother and father love each other a lot, a new child comes right?” 

Lyney isn't sure if he was going to enjoy what comes next, though he has an inkling that he won't. “Yes…” 

“Does that mean Mother and Father will bring us a new sibling soon?”

Lyney sputters, looking to Lynette for assistance. 

—

After a nice day at the beach, Arlecchino takes you and the children to a local restaurant. Luckily, she was able to find one that was relatively empty, so there was no problem with fitting you and your twenty children inside. You find that the two of you rather enjoy Sumeru dishes; while you enjoy the variety of flavors, Arlecchino rather indulges in the spiciness of them. Your favorite is between the tandoori roast chicken and the lambad fish roll. Though, something bothers you during your time at the restaurant.

Arlecchino is an attractive woman; that much is undeniable, and you're well aware of the fact that she's pleasing to both men's and women's eyes. It is a common occurrence for her to attract the sights of those around her, for whatever the reason, though among the women, it is typically out of admiration. Here, this is the case as well, wandering eyes from other customers, and subtle flirting from the audacious waitress. 

After finishing your dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to return to the two of them chatting up, although in reality it’s more like a one-sided conversation and Arlecchino is ignoring her– you're well aware of this, but you find the waitress’ presence pervasive. You approach your table quickly, kissing your husband on the cheek before glancing at the waitress.

“My husband and I would like to order dessert. Can you fetch us a menu, please?” You ask, disguising your ire with a practiced smile. Instantly, the waitress's flirtation dies and she walks away. 

You huff at the sight of the woman. “How could you, Arlecchino? After all we've been through? Talking so casually with her when I'm gone?” You jest with a gasp, faux jealousy in your tone once you notice the relieved sigh from her. Her claws release its hold on the tablecloth, leaving behind tattered sheets. 

“Oh, how I've been caught,” Arlecchino responds monotonously, playing along. “My affair with an unnamed, rather plain-featured woman has been discovered.” 

You giggle as her hand finds yours, interlocking with your fingers. “I'm in disbelief, betrayed by who I thought was my true love.”

“Oh hush now, love. Will Baklava buy your silence and heart again?” 

“Perhaps.” 

The House of the Hearth children gag as Mother and Father conciliate. 

—

“Mother, can't we stay up any longer? We're on vacation. Pleaseeeeee,” one of the children pleads as you usher them to bed, pulling the covers over them. 

“It's not healthy for you to stay up. Besides, you have plenty of time tomorrow and the rest of the two weeks to have fun. Your Father and I can't keep watch over you during the night,” you respond with, kissing them on the forehead. 

“What if Lyney or Lynette watches us?” 

“Lyney and Lynette are probably just as tired. When you wake up, we can go to the beach again, does that sound okay?” 

“Okay… good night Mother.”

You hum in delight, caressing their head. “Good night. Sweet dreams.” 

You silently walk towards the door. Arlecchino leans against the doorframe, observing you wordlessly–again, that unreadable expression appears over her, but this time it lingers. You shut the door as quietly as you can, before turning to your husband.

“Is there something you need, Arle?” You inquire. 

She shakes her head. You don't quite believe her, but you don't address it. “I'm going to go take a bath. Get all this sand off of me. Would you like to join me?” 

Arlecchino nods, and soon the two of you are in the bathroom. You let the faucet run, filling the bathtub with water as Arlecchino removes her clothing. It only takes a few moments before the two of you are seated in the bathtub, but it's a change of position this time. Arlecchino sits in between your legs, facing away from you.

“It's been a while since we've bathed like this, right?” You question softly, lightly carding your fingers through her untied hair. 

“It has been,” she merely replies, her voice almost far-away; like there’s something else on her mind. Even though you only face her back, you can tell from her lack of movement that she’s in deep contemplation.

“What are you thinking about, Arle?” Your husband bristles a bit at the question. Even after being married to you for a couple years, she's still unaccustomed to how you can read her so easily, especially when she prides herself in being incomprehensible to others, even her children. 

“Do you… not enjoy this?” You ask hesitantly with a lump in your throat. You know that she knows what you meant by ‘this’– the vacation; the entire notion of taking a break is foreign to Arlecchino, but you hope that she was able to find this beneficial. If she hates this and this vacation is supposed to be two weeks long… you don't want to say you'd be disappointed but you'd hope she'd at least be able to relax from her Harbinger duties. 

Arlecchino is silent for a few moments. “I admit… I am uneased by this, to be so vulnerable and open to assaults now that we're not in the House of the Hearth. I feel unproductive and restless without my usual work. However, at the same time, I can see how beneficial this is to the children, and it is a nice change for once to see them like this. Being able to spend time with you like this is also rather indulgent, but I cannot complain about it.” 

You smile, a weight lifted off your chest as you lean forward to press a kiss against her nape. “I’m glad. This was for you after all.”

“Although I am gratified that the children are able to experience this as well … I cannot see why you would put this much effort for me. After all, I am…” Arlecchino pauses, raising her blackened hands to her view. She doesn’t finish her sentence, but you're able to get a sense of what she’s trying to say, and another weight is placed heavy on your heart. For as confident and assured that Arlecchino likes to present herself, when it is just the two of you, she reveals a rawer, more unguarded side to her. Often, she confides in you how she grapples with why you can so fondly view her, and every time, your heart sinks. How could your husband think this way? 

Laying your chin over her shoulder, you gingerly place both of your hands underneath hers, stroking the inside of her palm with your thumb. “I know where your thoughts are leading to, Arlecchino, and they're wrong. I love you, Arlecchino. You deserve this. You deserve this treatment, you deserve a break, you deserve to be loved. Your curse, your past… it doesn't matter. These hands…” 

You continue caressing her hand with your fingers. “...They are not cursed. These hands are not unloveable. These are the same hands that protect and care for our children. The same hands that hold me. The same hands that please me. They are a part of you, and they aren't evidence that you are a monster. If you are, you wouldn't have me, and you wouldn't have the children.” 

You kiss down along her bare back, gaining shivers from the woman. “Enjoy this, my love, for me at the very least. You are my husband, so let me do my part in loving you. You've done an innumerable amount of things for me and the children, so consider this to be our repayment for you.” 

“That is why I am doing this for you, do you understand?” You whisper against her skin. 

Arlecchino nods, a shaky breath escaping from her. You finish your treatment around her shoulderblades and gesture for her to turn around. When she does, the first thing that you do is kiss her hands, peppering them with as much devotion as you can give them. To you, nothing is more beautiful. 

“You deserve everything and more. Don't forget that, Arlecchino. So let me do this for you.” It isn't an ask. It is a demand from the one person whose authority is higher than the Tsaritsa: you. 

Arlecchino closes her eyes, and lets herself melt into you. 

[bairdthereader]

Charlie Spring, An Appreciation: Part 1, Courage

Nick Nelson gets a lot of love, and justifiably so; I'll be the first to admit that he's amazing (see my many Nick-related posts as evidence). But I hear all too often that Charlie is leveling up by being with Nick, or that Nick is too good for Charlie. I beg to differ—vehemently—and here's why, part 1 (of 3, maybe?).

I often find myself in awe of Charlie during some of the quietest and least dramatic parts of the Heartstopper show and comics, because his bravery, resilience, and tenacity are displayed in ways that seem inconsequential, but are actually incredibly meaningful and telling. This boy has a thread of steel running through him, whether it's obvious at first glance or not.

We see this almost from the very beginning, when Charlie is assigned to a new form and told that he'll be sitting next to Nick, "one of the rugby boys," and, "I'm sure you'll get along swimmingly." Here is not only Charlie's worst personal nightmare, but also a teacher who is blithely unaware of the terrible position he's just put Charlie in--being placed in close, daily proximity to the type of person Charlie associates with the darkest time of his life. But we don't see fear on his face, or even that much dread—this tells us so much about him in just a nanosecond. There's resignation and bitterness, yes, but Charlie knows he can withstand this, because he's been there before and survived. This is borne out in later conversations with Nick where Charlie assures him that "I'm used to it." This is a horrifying injustice, one Nick rightly calls out, and it shows Charlie's resilience in the face of a degree of cruelty that many people never experience.

This little moment outside of the changing room is another revealing scene. Charlie knows exactly what he's walking into, exactly the kinds of comments and sly bullying he's going to experience in that room. He knows he will have to have his guard up every second, that he will have to prove himself to this group, even though he shouldn't have to. He also knows he'll be fighting his own self-doubt, and so this experience will be a battle on two fronts. (Three fronts, if you include trying to hide his feelings for Nick.) But he does it anyway. Sure, you could argue he's doing it solely to be near Nick, but I think this is also his way of making sure that those boys don't dictate his actions or his life. This is Charlie taking a stand. And this is just one example—he does this over and over and over again, in many different settings and situations.

Case in point, calling it off with Ben. Charlie has been the victim of what is essentially brainwashing and abuse from Ben for months. Ben has told Charlie verbally and shown him physically that Charlie means less than nothing to Ben, and that Charlie can never expect anyone to ever want him or care for him. And Charlie often, tragically, believes him. That Charlie is able to break free of this vicious cycle and take the steps to distance himself from Ben shows his immense inner strength. You can see on Charlie's face (thanks to Joe Locke's inimitable talent) that he can't even believe he's done it. And we have to keep in mind that this happens long before Nick is a real possibility, so we can't say Charlie does this for Nick. He does it for himself.

I do have to include one of the more iconic scenes, because this ⬇️is Charlie's clarion call, his hope, his banner, for the rest of this story. He knows he has a lot of problems to work through, that he's complicated and sometimes hard to interpret, so it's easy to see this scene and think Charlie's words come from a place of insecurity (and of course that is some of what's happening here). But he's strong enough to both acknowledge it and ask honestly that Nick not let those parts of Charlie become the focus of their relationship. He requests, even during this moment of almost brutal honesty and vulnerability, that Nick see him completely, as the whole person he can be, because Charlie knows that person is there inside himself. The self awareness and bravery this takes is enormous.

There are a million other moments like this that I could write about, both big and small:

But I'll end this already lengthy post with this: When one considers the amount of sheer courage Charlie has to exert just to live his daily life, it almost defies understanding. Charlie Spring is a gladiator of the mind and heart, completely worthy of any good thing.

[berryz-writes]

Jealousy

PART 2

Azriel x reader

Summary: Your forced to spend the weekend with Azriel the bane of your existence but little do you realize he doesn't completely hate you

Nfjznxsfdzfdxj this took a while my other WIP’s were distracting me. also ignore any mistakes, enjoy lovelies <33

part 1

It was torture. Downright torture. Pretending like last night hadn't happened was wreaking havoc on my brain. I didn't know how to forget about it. I couldn't.

The memory of Azriel pulling me closer, his face resting in the crook of my neck, the way his gentle hands rested on my waist, his legs tangled with mine pulling me impossibly closer. Gods I was going to go crazy.

Everywhere it went it seemed his reminders were there. The dagger I was using in training was the one Azriel had given me last solstice when mine had been snatched by an Attor. The laces on my boots were from his because apparently mine weren’t sturdy enough. 

“Where do you get your shoes from? These are awful quality” He asked, crouching down in front of me and taking his laces out to adjust them into my boots, all the while muttering about how I could have tripped and hurt myself. 

The coffee the cabin had made this morning on my command was made with a hint of cinnamon. Something Azriel had recommended to make the taste better. He was everywhere I went and it was driving me crazy.

He hadn't even mentioned last night once. Didn't even give me some sort of hint that he remembered or that it actually meant something to him. We had continued the day as if everything was normal, his biting remarks more constant and grating.

***

"We're going back on Monday" Azriel called out to me unwrapping the white gauze from his knuckles. I pulled out my dagger (yes the same one Azriel had gifted me) from the target piece of wood and frowned. Two days later? "Why aren't we going today?"

Azriel didn't look at me, instead he put his daggers in his belt making sure each one was in the proper position before replying "If I've said it there's probably a reason why. Do you have to ask questions every time?"

My frown deepened as I surveyed him from this distance. He had his wings folded together and his expression was foul as if a personal wrong had been done against him. So what if he was in a mood? Didn't mean he had to be so rude.

"I'm not going to follow your orders blindly. Tell me" I moved closer to him and stopped in front of him, the biting cold of the village hitting me now that I had stopped training. I waited for him to explain why we were spending any longer in a place like this. I yearned for the liveliness and warmth of Velaris. The golden sun beating down on me while I sat on the balcony and sipped on something cold.

We had been gone for one night and I know I was being dramatic but Azriel not giving me answers just annoyed the shit out of me even more.

He continued arranging his daggers and straightening his siphons until he deemed them perfect. Finally looking up to meet my eyes I could tell there was something wrong before he even opened his mouth. 

"There's a storm coming. It's not safe to fly tonight" His voice was controlled, as if he were trying to hide his emotions, his eyes not making direct contact with me.

I let out a scoff "And what? Winnowing doesn't exist anymore?" I knew the way I said it would rile him up. Yes I could have phrased it nicely but the way he was acting he didn't deserve it.

Eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching Azriel took a step closer to me. And then another until he was just inches away from me. His warmth radiated to me, my head having to tilt up slightly so I could look at his gorgeous face properly.

His voice was soft, the deadly stillness with which he stood unnerving me. "Velaris's shields have been compromised. Rhys is doing all he can from anyone finding out and if we break that balance. If we winnow in then that means the shield breaks." He scanned my features as if waiting for me to reply "Do you want the safety of all those people in jeopardy because of you?" His voice was quiet now, his breath blowing over me as he spoke.

A million thoughts invaded my mind as I thought of what he had stated. How had Velaris been compromised? And by who? And what was Rhys doing? I wondered if everyone back home was alright.

I took a deep breath trying not to get angry and understand the situation we were in “How long are we stuck here for?” 

It was Azriel’s turn to take a deep breath as if he knew the answer wouldn’t be one I wanted. “Minimum two more days''

Two whole days. I was going to go insane here. Either I would die from arguing with the brainless Illyrians or from hypothermia. A sudden blast of cold air hit me, reminding me of where I was stuck and who it was with. Sighing, I shook away my thoughts. I was being ungrateful. Azriel wasn’t so bad. And who knew what everyone else was going through. I opened my mouth to ask exactly that when he cut in “Everyone's fine. If it was serious we would have been called back for help whether the storm was brewing or not”

I nodded my head, the knot in my stomach loosening. As long as everyone was fine. Azriel nodded his head to the path that led to the cabin we were now sharing “You should go. I need to inform Keller of our prolonged stay”

I took it as his way of dismissing me and not wanting to talk to me. Turning around and starting down the frosted path, the warmth that engulfed me from Azriel's body evaporated completely, my footsteps quickening to reach the cabin. Slamming the cabin door shut I took out my hair tie and sat on the bed anger and disappointment flowing through me. The fire immediately started, the crackling sound the only noise in the wooden house. 

He was ignoring what had happened yesterday. He was being insufferable. He hadn’t even asked me, talked to me, mentioned it to me even once. I shifted through each word we had shared this morning and none of them consisted of him acknowledging last night. 

Azriel didn’t even tell me he wanted to forget last night, instead he let my imagination run wild on thinking if he regretted it or not. 

Maybe I was the over dramatic one. We hadn’t had sex, we hadn’t even kissed. But it felt like there was something else when he pulled me closer except for mutual dislike. 

Flopping back onto the soft bed I decided thinking of other things would do me some good. Anything other than Azriel at this point. 

Sitting up again and rifling through the side table drawers I finally found a slightly inky pen and a scrunched up piece of paper.

Hi Feyre, I heard what happened with the shield. I just wanted to check in and make sure everyone was fine. Give lots of kisses to Nyx from me. 

Ending the note with my name I vanished it away hoping Feyre would reply with some good news. In the time that I had done that Azriel walked in, flipping a dagger in his hand, his shadows moving slowly across his wings. I rolled my eyes at his arrogance and refused to start a conversation with him. If he could ignore what happened yesterday and act like it didn’t matter then so could I. I wasn’t going to act like an attention whore. No way. 

“What do you want to eat?” Was what he asked, settling into the armchair opposite me. I refused to look at him and instead let my eyes travel to the window where the sun was setting. 

“I’m not hungry” I finally replied when I could tell from his relentless gaze that he would not look away, his hazel eyes fixated on my every move, my every breath. 

A scoff escaped him and I turned to look at him, my eyes narrowed. Moving further back on to the bed I kicked off my boots and sat cross legged. 

“You’re always hungry at this time, don’t lie to me” Azriel stated. Raising an eyebrow and waiting for me to contradict him. I couldn’t. I was being annoying and difficult on purpose. Of course I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten since this morning.

Running a hand through his hair Azriel stood up and moved over to the small kitchen on the other side of the cabin. The cupboards contained any and every ingredient. I watched as he pulled out a different variety of ingredients and with the way he was looking at each one closely he didn’t know where to start. 

“Move. I’ll do it” I announced, getting off the bed and sliding across the floorboard to the mini kitchen. Azriel leaned sideways on the countertop, a slight smirk on his face as he watched me look at each ingredient. 

“What are you going to make?” He asked, clearly amused by something. Picking up the can of tomatoes I put them to the right, making a useful and bin category. 

“It doesn’t matter what I make, we both know you’re going to eat it” I replied, my eyebrows furrowed from concentration and the slight annoyance I held toward him. A sigh escaped his perfect lips as he folded his wings back 

“Why are you angry at me?”

I didn’t look at him, instead filled the metal pan with water and used my magic to heat it up. Once the bubbles had risen to the surface I added the raw pasta with a pinch of salt. 

“Y/n” His voice was sharp. Demanding. “Look at me” 

Finally turning to look at him my heart stopped beating for a good minute. Gods he was……he was something else. His warm eyes raked over my expression as if trying to find the reason for my annoyance, his lips looking as inviting as ever.

“What?” My voice didn’t come out as strong as I wanted to, instead it came out quiet and breathless. 

“What have I done wrong?” Azriel’s voice was softer than I expected, reminding me of last night. 

I decided to take the leap. I had had enough of evading the truth “You’re acting like last night didn’t happen. You’re ignoring me” 

Rather than an annoying smirk or a laugh coming from Azriel his eyebrows furrowed “I didn’t want you to feel like I expected something of you. And gods knows I can’t ignore you y/n. You’re perfect”

I let out an exasperated sigh, the steam from the boiling water making it warmer than it was before “I thought you wanted to forget about it. I’m not inside your brain Azriel”

Anger was there in his eyes but it vanished as soon as he saw my hurt expression “I’ve wanted you for so long. Every time I look at you I'm reminded that you aren’t mine. Every time you smile my heart beats faster and I don’t even know why” I swallowed at his words. What he was saying. 

He had liked me this whole time and I hadn't even realized. We were both as ignorant as each other. It was now or never.

“Make me yours then Azriel” I whispered back, waiting to see what he would say. His hands tilted my chin up and his lips met mine in the softest kiss possible. Moving his hands to my waist he lifted me up and sat me on the counter, slotting himself between my legs. Automatically my hands went to his curly hair, pulling him impossibly closer. 

The world had something against me I thought as the note I had sent Feyre arrived next to me. Azriel moved slightly back, giving me space to breathe. I didn't want that space but I didn’t say anything. I picked up the note and read it out loud, confusion increasing.

Hi y/n, 

Nyx says he misses you lots and wants you to come back. Everyone’s alright here, same as when you left. 

I’m not sure what you mean by the shield though? Is everything alright?

Putting the note down I slid off the marble top and looked at Azriel, hoping for answers. 

“Does Feyre not know about-” 

He cut me off, his hand against my mouth, startling me. His body pressed against mine, my back against the kitchen counter. 

“I lied. I wanted to stay with you for as long as possible. I would ask for your forgiveness but I’m not sorry for what I’ve done” His eyes twinkled with amusement, his deep voice washing over me. It took me a while to understand what he was actually saying, his proximity short circuiting my brain. He removed his hand waiting for me to reply. 

“Anything else you’ve lied about Shadowsinger?” I finally asked, my words coming out quietly.

His head dipped to my neck, his lips pressing small kisses on my collarbone and making his way up to my jaw. 

“I broke the cabin. I also fucked up that guy who called you a whore. Other than that…I’m an honest male” He murmured. My breath hitched as he attacked my skin, clearly wanting to leave a mark there. His hands had me caged, with no escape and I didn’t have it in me to be mad at him for lying. Yes he had broken the cabin. But if he hadn’t we wouldn’t have spent the night together and I would have never realized that Azriel harboured feelings for me. He had also gone out of his way to defend me when he didn’t need to.

I wanted to kiss him rather than shout at him for his confession. 

“I say we skip to dessert” Azriel whispered, his eyes full of desire, finally looking at me. My heart skipped a beat at his words but I swallowed and shook away my want for him. 

“Dessert is for after” I pushed against his chest to let me go but he held my wrists firmly “Promise I get dessert?”

I pretended to think about it, tilting my head “Hmm we’ll see”

Azriel’s eyes darkened but he let me go, my stomach tightening at the way he looked at me. I wanted him so bad. So god damn bad. But now that I had told him to wait I couldn’t go back on my words. Not to mention Azriel was probably already thinking of ways to make me beg for him.

I wouldn’t mind that of course.

MASTERLIST

[zedif-y]

Zedaph is a being deeply connected to the void. It's almost like part of him. If he so chooses, he can connect to the deep below, merging his senses with it. Seeing through every part of the void and feeling anything that falls it. Mostly not that useful in the overworld, since it's all just bedrock, but it helps him navigate the end a little better.

Letting Tango into his void hole is, uh, a bit more intimate that it seems.

-headc-anon

Having a connection to the Void isn't as cool as it sounds.

This is all Zedaph's opinion, sure, but merging senses with complete nothingness isn't exactly the most thrilling experience. With how rarely things fall in there, he's pretty sure he'd be more excited watching paint dry. Or watching Impulse tear down his storage system again.

(This is ignoring the whole thing with the Boatem hole that one season. Not that Zed ever said anything about it— what was he supposed to say, stop flinging yourself into that hole, I can feel it? That just sounds weird.)

(It also entails talking to Grian. Which is arguably worse.)

So, uh. Point is, sometimes Zedaph... Forgets.

"Alright, Zed, you ready?" Tango asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. Zedaph blinks.

He stares down at the small hole, watches and feels the soft, droning hum of the nothingness wash over him— not quite beckoning, but familiar nonetheless.

"Yeah," He replies, giving his elytra a tug. Still there. He grins, then, "Race you there!"

"Hey-!"

Zedaph dives into the Void.

It feels like nothing. No air rushes by as he takes off, no cool breeze despite the thrust of his rockets. There's no resistance, not like swimming but not quite like flying, either. Not hot nor cold, just. Space.

Zedaph hums, it's really quite nice.

Until.

He shivers, the weird something's here sensation itching at the back of his mind. Something hot. Burning. Fast.

"Something of the Tek variety," Zedaph mutters to himself. He uses another rocket, eyes scanning the ceiling— "Aha!"

Zedaph taps his communicator, "Found your hole!"

"Already?!" Tango sputters, "I can barely see anything down here!"

Zedaph only laughs, feeling the paths Tango takes like a line in his mind, circling and looping around. "See harder!"

"Easy for you to say!"

Zedaph gasps when he shoots through the hole, both because of the sudden rush of air and because—

"Ow!"

—his face has become very well-acquainted with some rough stone. Ouch.

In the midst of checking if his nose is still intact, Tango speaks, his voice crackling through the communicator.

"Zed," He calls out, more than a little frantic. "Little help here?"

"One sec..." Zedaph groans, "I think I broke my face."

Tango laughs, "What, more?"

"You should be nicer to your savior, Tango."

"I'll be nicer when you tell me where my hole is!"

Zedaph huffs a laugh, smothering a joke. (He deserves an award for that.) He furrows his brow, focuses on Tango's location, his presence beaming like a star in space. He taps his communicator, "Alright, turn around, and fly left."

"Aye aye, captain!"

So Zedaph guides him, helps Tango soar through the Void until, finally—

Tango's voice crackles through the speaker, "I see it!"

Zedaph stands back, "You see it?"

"I see it!"

"Then get in here!"

Tango comes shooting through the hole, only narrowly avoiding colliding with Zed as he whizzes past—

"Ack!"

Zedaph laughs, full-bellied and pointing. "Broke your face!"

Tango flops backwards, clutching his nose.

"Shut up, jerkface!"

"You said you'd be nicer to me!"

"Not when you're laughing at me!"

They bicker until Zedaph's lungs hurt from laughing, their respective faces all fixed up and rockets replenished. As they gear up for the next attempt, (this time with dangling sheep!) Tango turns to him.

"By the way, how'd you know where I was down there?" He asks, head tilted in question. "You couldn't see me, could you?"

Zedaph shrugs, "Yes and no?" He rolls his shoulder, then fastens the straps of his elytra over his chest. "Not with my eyes, but, you know, my Void thing—"

"Your what thing?"

"My—" Zedaph stops. "My Void thing." At Tango's baffled silence, "You do know about my Void thing, yes?"

Tango's eyes are wide, then, "Ohhhh, yeah, your Void thing. I totally— psh, of course I know about— what the heck are you talking about?!"

Zedaph blinks. Stares.

"...Did I forget to mention it?" He asks, sheepish. Tango balks.

"Forget to mention what?!"

...Uh oh.

Perhaps... He forgets a little too hard.

[xlatiwritesx]

Just the Two of Us | KM9

Genre: angst/fluff

Words: 2.7 K

Synopsis: when Kylian misunderstands your worries and you end up having an argument, he tries to make it up to you.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

You look around you. You try taking in the glamour and let it consume you whole like the first hundred times.

You shook your head, feeling so ungrateful for feeling tired. For feeling sick of doing this every weekend because of your boyfriend's career.

There's always a party, an award ceremony, a get together to celebrate one of his many trophies, a game. Just thinking about being in another dress less than a week from where you were sitting sent your head spinning.

"My girlfriend" your boyfriend's warm fingertips caused you to turn quickly and stand up from your table's seat, pulling you out of your thoughts. You plaster on a smile that you recently learned to fake as you shook the guy's hand.

"Happy to meet you" you assured him as you pulled your hand away. Kylian spoke with him some more and you laughed along at a joke he said before he left you both at your table to go meet up with his friends.

Kylian sat next to you, took your hand and couldn't shake off the feeling you were upset. He panicked as he ran through his had, trying to justify your distance. He couldn't find a single thing.

In the car, you stay silent the whole way, unintentionally sending Kylian into an even bigger panic. You were giving him the silent treatment without evening meaning to. You were just too exhausted.

He just chose to admire your face as you both sat in the back seat of the Mercedes the event had booked for you. You notice his fascinated eyes on you, but you couldn't turn to look at him. You didn't want to. You couldn't justify why you were so angry with him. It's not his fault he's amazing at what he does. But you also wished he made some more time for just the two of you.

He opens the door of your shared home for you and you walk in. Just when the door clicks shut behind him and you were almost on your way upstairs, he grabs your hand and turns you around to face him.

You look down at his hand holding yours, feeling his mesmerized eyes on your face. You fear the impending confrontation, but pray that it pays off.

"What's wrong?" He asks quietly. You stroke his hand with your thumb, getting nervous by the second. You muster up the courage.

"I'm tired, Kylian" you admit. He chuckles and looks to his left before carrying you in his arms.

"Well, we're already home" he touches your forehead with his and you touch his face with your fingertips.

"No, like" you sigh and turn your head away from him. He puts you down and frowns, sensing an argument brewing.

"I'm just...Kylian it's like we never have time together anymore" you try clarifying but his frown deepens.

"I don't get it. We literally live together and we just-"

"I know! But we're always together, yet surrounded by too many people and never alone!" You start getting more frustrated and he starts getting defensive.

"Maybe because you're dating a football player?" He raises a brow and you roll your eyes.

"I know. And that's not what I'm complaining about. It's just that I wish you'd make more time for just the two of us" you try quieting down, but Kylian doesn't. He runs a hand over his face, clearly frustrated. You frown, studying his every move as he turned around and away from you.

"What-"

"We didn't fight in ages and now you're trying to stir something up out of-"

"I try to stir?!”

"Nothing! Like, we literally hang out every night. I take you to the best parties, best restaurants, hold your hand like I'm holding the world in front of everyone, y/n!" He starts raising his voice and now you were the one getting frustrated. He kept missing your point and you just didn't want to keep re-explaining yourself to him. You weren't sure if you wanted to talk about it with him to begin with and his reaction made you regret not listening to your doubts.

You felt tears brim your eyes, so you just walked past him and to the stairs. Once you got upstairs and inside your shared bedroom, you slammed the door and threw yourself on the bed, allowing yourself to cry. You couldn't believe you were crying over something like that. But you still were mad that Kylian reacted to your worries by accusing you of just starting drama.

You buried your face in the pillow that smelled just like him and cried harder when you heard the front door slam downstairs and realized he didn't care to follow you to check on you. You couldn't believe how confident he was for acting that way.

Outside, Kylian got into his car and started it. He didn't drive out of your house's driveway immediately, though. He rested his head on the headrest and sighed deeply. He hated fighting with you more than anything. He hated it more than losing a game. He hated it more than he hated his worst enemies. Because he loved you way more than any trophy or anyone.

Finally, Kylian drove off. He didn't where to, but he knew he needed to have some time away from the house to look at your disagreements from a different perspective.

Back home, you got up from the bed and wandered around. You could never get used to the hollowness caused by an argument. You walk around the house as if it were haunted. Something just shifts after a fight and it feels awful every time without fail.

You sigh and sit on the living room couch, staring at whatever was on the TV. You're so lost in thought that you almost miss the phone rings filling the space. You frown at it, realizing it's your best friend calling.

You sigh, rolling your eyes as you pick up. You knew she'd know something is up once she heard your voice and you were not in the mood to talk about that yet.

"Hey!" She cheerfully greets you. You stay silent for a little too long, already wanting to start crying again.

"Y/n?" She calls, sounding somewhat worried at your lack of response. You sigh shakily. She waits.

"Kylian and I had a fight" you finally choke out. She stays silent for a little while longer.

"Oh" is all she lets out finally. You pierce your lips, looking around the living room in an attempt to push back your tears.

"Okay" she follows up, trying to sound cheerful again.

"How about you come over? We can talk and get food. Clear your head, you know" she suggests. You almost immediately reject her offer, but stop yourself to actually think it through.

It did sound nice to spend whatever was left of the night at your best friend's house, talking over some food. You did need a change of atmosphere since the house was becoming more suffocating by the second.

"I'll be there in a bit" you give in.

"Great! See you then!" Your best friend squeals, earning a smile from behind the phone. The first today and you really feel thankful for her.

You get up and wash off all the smeared mascara off your face. You change into a comfortable lounge outfit before grabbing your keys and leaving. You pass by your and your best friend's favorite restaurant to pick up some of your favorite appetizers.

After picking that up, you park outside her apartment building. She welcomes you when you get to her door, pulling you into a tight hug that immediately makes you want to cry again. You hold it in, though, following her into her living room and throwing yourself on its couch.

You sigh and she chuckles softly next to you, studying your features. She understands everything by just looking at your puffy eyes and pink nose.

"It must be pretty bad, huh?" Your best friend asks. You sigh again, rolling your eyes.

"It's just" you start.

"I tried to tell him how we never spend time together alone. He kept missing my point, accusing me of 'starting shit' or whatever" you felt the tears coming back. Your best friend just listened, nodding every few words.

"And it just spiraled and suddenly I'm running upstairs and he's slamming the front door" you sigh. Your best friend pouts at how stressed you were as you recalled the events from a few hours ago.

"Well, I think once you guys calm down and talk it out, he would understand and make it up to you" she sighed, taking a sip of her Coke. You just crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

You eat your food and talk about all the juicy gossip and before you even knew it, you were laughing so hard that you almost forgot the aching heartbreak from your and your boyfriend's argument. Your friend suddenly jumps up, holding her phone.

"Shit! I forgot about my meeting!" You frown at her, looking at your own phone to check the time.

11:09 pm. You frown up at her as she frantically got up and ran to grab her laptop. You raise a brow, checking the time again as she set up her laptop at the dining table on your left.

"What kind of meeting takes place at 11 pm?" You ask as you walk up to where she was panting, logging into her Microsoft account.

"Long story. But, hey, we need to catch up some other time. No interruptions" she answers quickly and your eyes widen.

"Are you kicking me out!" You gasp in fake horror and she nods. You laugh and walk to the couch to grab your things.

"I'll be back sooner than you ever wish" you narrowed your eyes at her and she gestured for you to keep going sarcastically. You laugh again, shaking your head this time.

"Text me when you get home!" She yells from across the apartment and you hum back before shutting her door behind you.

The quiet night streets force you back to all the negativity you finally were able to momentarily run away from. You try to not think too much about it, but you couldn't. No matter how much you sighed and breathed deeply. The argument kept replaying in your head, Kylian getting more defensive, you feeling so misunderstood and disregarded.

You hated how your eyes filled with tears for what seems to be the millionth time today. You tried keeping it in, but for a second you thought of letting it out. You finally decided not to, though. You didn't want to waste more tears over this.

But seeing Kylian's car parked in the driveway made you almost burst. You didn't want to face him yet. You weren't ready for another argument.

You take the deepest breath yet after parking your car next to his and getting out of it. Your hands shake as you open the front door which was unlocked, further confirming your fears of having to face Kylian.

You walk in and the house is completely dark. You're terrified for a second, but remembering Kylian's car in the driveway gives you some sense of safety. You resist calling his name, choosing dignity over comfort as you walk slowly into your house.

As you reach the living room, you notice candlelight outside the glass doors that lead to the backyard pool. You frown, your heart picking up its pace.

You reluctantly walk to the doors, sliding one open and immediately feel the cool breeze on your shaky limbs. You glance around and notice more and more candles lining the perimeter of the pool. You walk closer until you stand by the edge, mesmerized by all their reflections on the water.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps on the grass behind you. You expected yourself to turn in panic, but you didn't. You knew exactly who those steps belonged to. You loved their owner so much that you've gotten them memorized by heart.

You feel his arms wrap slowly around you from behind. His scent, his warmth. All of it. You wanted all of it. You needed all of it. So much that the thought of possibly living a life without it made you want to sink in the pool ahead of you. Burn in the candles surrounding it.

"The love of my life" he whispers and your heart skips a couple of beats. You hold his wrists that were over your stomach, leaning back into him and closing your eyes.

"I fucked up, my love" he goes on, raising his voice just a little. You fight the smile that wanted to stretch itself on your lips.

You open your eyes as Kylian turns you around to face him. He rests his hands on your waist and you rest yours on his shoulder.

"And?" You give him half a smile and he bites his bottom lip, failing to hold back his smile. You lose composure and giggle at his reaction. He clears his throat and you nod, giving him his que to keep going.

"I should've listened. I should've tried to understand you instead of just blaming you" he says sincerely and you smile slightly at him. He finally looks back in your eyes and you touch his forehead with yours, moving your hands from his shoulders to the sides of his face.

"Thank you" you whisper.

"Don't thank me for how you should be treated" he whispers back, giving you raging butterflies.

You smile and he kisses you softly before carrying you up in his arms. Your laughter fills the candlelit backyard. He walks to the table across the pool and sits you down on one of the two chairs set on either sides of it.

You rest your head on your hand as you watch him jog around the pool to the inside of the house. You smile to yourself, feeling so grateful Kylian made this so easy. But he wasn't planning on just apologizing. You should've known him better.

He comes back, holding a huge bouquet, that you pretended to not see, behind his back. You place a hand over your mouth and stand up.

"This is what I get for making you cry" he sighs, pulling an insanely huge red roses bouquet from behind him. You look at him in awe as you take it in your arms.

You look down at it, realizing something you didn't before. There was an envelope peeking out the middle of the bouquet. You frown and carefully pull it out, glancing at Kylian to see him smiling at you.

You carefully set the bouquet on the table beside you and open the envelope. You pull out two slips of glossy paper, squinting to read what was written on it.

"Kylian!" You scream, realizing that you were holding two plane tickets to your dream destination. You jump excitedly in his arms, wrapping yours around him.

"You didn't!" You look at him and he smiles, admiring your raw happiness.

"Oh, I did. I should've done it way sooner had I known it would make you this happy" he says, still smiling dreamily at your excitement.

After that, when you get in bed, you text your best friend about the night when she asked how everything was going with Kylian.

“Well. I’m still wondering how you believed I had a meeting at 11 pm” she texts and realization hits you hard.

She was in on it too.

“You knew?!” You text back.

“How did you think he had the house to himself to light all those candles and get the flowers and everything?!” She texted back. You laughed to yourself.

You watch as Kylian came out of the bathroom and laid next to you. You don’t say anything. You just take him in, your heart clenching at the sight of him next to you.

You wonder how did you get so lucky? How could you end up with someone like him?

“In love much?” He says casually and you scoff.

“Very” you say, half sarcastically.

“Well, try beating me then. That’s a game I will never lose” he says before kissing your cheek, healing everything that was broken just hours earlier.

[lurkingshan]

Hi. I recently finished watching Coffee Prince based on a few recs posts that you had put out and MY GOD I'm so glad I decided to give it a try. (This was the first Kdrama where I got past 2 eps) I loved this sooo sooo much.

Do you have any recs for media (queer or otherwise) with similar strong characters as Eun-Chan? Even otherwise, thanks for your great rec posts!

Another Coffee Prince convert! Thank you for telling me, anon, it gives me so much joy every time someone gets to experience it for the first time. And I am not surprised Go Eun Chan captured your heart, everyone who meets her feels the same.

Since I don't know exactly what about Eun Chan captivated you, I am not entirely sure what kind of characters you are looking for. Is it her generosity of spirit? Is it that endearing mix of bravery and naïveté? Is it the way she keeps going through confusion and uncertainty? Is it that she is just so lacking in artifice and unapologetically herself? Or maybe it's her gender questioning journey that spoke to you.

Given that I am not precisely sure, I am just going to give you a mix of great dramas of various genres with strong characters that give me some aspect of that Eun Chan swag--feel free to come back and ask for more recs if you have something else in mind! In alpha order:

Be Melodramatic (Viki)

Shan found another excuse to rec Be Melodramatic? Must be a day ending in y. But seriously this drama is full of fantastic characters and there's a strong thread here about being yourself unapologetically and finding the people who love you for that.

Great Men Academy (grey)

Another character experiencing gender, but this time via a magical-unicorn-induced body transformation (don't ask I could not possibly explain it). This story is all about Love figuring herself out and the bisexual king who loves her in any body.

Healer (Viki)

Chae Yeong Shin is Park Min Young's best character ever and it's not close. She has a lot of Eun Chan's relentless spirit and optimism in the face of life's nonsense, and she's a spunky one. Healer is also just a great action romance with a lot of fun hijinks and a very swoony male lead, if you're into that kind of thing.

Joshi-teki Seikatsu (Life As A Girl) (grey)

Miki is an all-time great character. A trans woman rebooting her life away from home, she is more assured about who she is but has a lot of Eun Chan's core generosity and bravery. I love her so much.

Kieta Hatsukoi (Viki)

Chaotic confusion with a heart of gold, thy name is Aoki.

Koisenu Futari (grey)

Sakuko, my beloved. This show is about two people on the aroace spectrum connecting and finding companionship and family in each other, and it's so beautiful.

Light on Me (Viki)

Woo Tae Kyung is definitely sitting at the "unapologetically themselves" table with Eun Chan. And he has a love triangle, too!

My Lovely Sam Soon (Viki)

If you're up for an even older kdrama, I love this one to pieces. Kim Sam Soon has a lot in common with Go Eun Chan, in that she doesn't perform femininity the way people expect and she is trying to find her place in the world, all while crushing on a guy who feels very out of her league. This is a journey for both lead characters, and I was so moved by where they ended up that I burst into tears at the end.

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat (Furritsubs)

My girls!!! I love every character in this show. I don't think it's possible to watch this drama and not find someone to connect with; it's all about exploring the many different ways to be a woman and finding the people who will love and respect you for who you are. And it's very queer while doing it!

Twenty-five Twenty-one (Netflix)

Na Hee Do is a legend, and not just because of the fencing. This show is her coming of age story and you will love her.

Weightlifting Fair Kim Bok Joo (Viki)

Kim Bok Joo, another heroine wrestling with her femininity as she navigates coming of age and changing relationships. She's fantastic.

As always, if you have trouble finding any of these, you can always hmu (off anon, because we don't share secret files in public lol). Hope you find something to enjoy among these!

[cattimeswithjellie]

Stream Recap, PearlescentMoon, 6/11/24

((I started recapping this one before I knew it was going to be a six hour redstone marathon stream. It has taken literally all day, so I will probably think twice before doing one like this again. My knowledge of redstone is too limited to understand everything that was happening, so there are chunks of the middle of the stream where the recap is basically "redstone continues." Impulse and Skizz playtest Pearl's game near the end of the stream and it is very fun!))

3:50 Pearl opens her stream and greets the chat in audio-only mode. She tells chat she just woke up after being up all night and sleeping late. She got plenty of sleep, just at a weird time. She apologizes for postponing the stream yesterday and said she was making the video a priority for someone who was holding their own video waiting for hers. (It was Tango.) Today’s stream will have spoilers. She wants to do a couple things on the minigame today but she can’t make too much progress on the interior because she has to film an intro first. Chat is complimentary about the new video and Pearl says she is probably going to keep the new editing tweaks for redstone-type videos. She’s also going to keep the Editor Pearl overlay. She admits that the snow transition was a happy accident.

7:20 Someone told Pearl that the new video is engaging, which is what she is trying to do with her videos. Feedback sticks in Pearl’s brain, and some people have said on Twitter where they don’t know she is seeing it that while she is a nice person, her videos are not engaging. She is trying to make that better. Chat asks if Pearl feels okay, she tells them she usually wakes up a little congested but is fine. She talks more about finer points of the new video. She knows she can’t please everyone, but feedback that she could be more engaging in her videos is legitimate critique and she wants to keep improving.

10:10 Pearl and Chat talk about what it means for a video to be engaging. They talk about the different ways streams and YouTube videos and podcasts are engaging, and Pearl mentions how she deliberately changes up camera angles when there is a lot of talking in an episode. A chatter admits that the most recent video was not their favorite because redstone goes over their head. Pearl agrees that her audience is not a redstone audience and assures Chat she will not be getting too overly intense on redstone in her videos.

14:20 Pearl switches video on. She is logged into the server and standing at the start button for her Wordle game. She tells Chat that the Wordle invention VOD is up on her second channel for people who want an eight-hour stream of Pearl doing redstone. Something she didn’t show in the video is her adding the diamond barrel. Every Wordle attempt costs one diamond. She didn’t put that part in the video because she had 40 minutes each with Bdubs and Tango and had to do some severe editing. Hermits who fail the Wordle can try again by paying another diamond, Hermits who succeed should not play again til reset. She has plans to make a leaderboard so people can track their streaks.

18:00 Pearl wants to know if an item that bubbles to the top of a bubblevator will stay or despawn. Chat is not sure, but enough people think it will stay that Pearl takes their word for it. She wants to make a randomizer for the game supplies so players don’t have to randomize them at the end of their games. She says they can test the bubblevator despawn issue and test it, but if it works, bubblevating the supplies and then dropping them into a hopper is a great randomizing solution. She digs into the wall to create a test bubblevator. Chat offers suggestions for refining the resetting system. Pearl considers options for triggering the bubblevator, using freecam to examine the redstone she already has in place. She wants to be absolutely sure that the “success” items don’t come out together and first.

23:40 Twitch is having some minor resolution problems, but the stream is generally all right. Pearl goes and gets some water. She fills the bubblevator and throws a bunch of building blocks into it, then writes some signs to explain how the system will work. She discusses the finer points of reset with chat. A chatter suggests killing the player to reset the game, which makes Pearl laugh. A chatter can’t wait for Scar to break the game. Pearl says the only way to break the game should be going into the walls and actually fiddling with the redstone. She demonstrates some ways that players cannot break the game.

28:50 Pearl describes a timing problem where the game kept trying to play the fail sound while she was filming, but she added a pulse extender to fix it. It makes her very happy that she knows enough redstone now to be able to fix things when they don’t work right. She learned so much during her eight hour stream, but now she needs to keep doing redstone so she doesn’t forget it. She also needs to memorize item sorters.

30:30 Pearl checks the bubblevator. It does not work, the building blocks have despawned. She is disappointed, but has a minecart method she wants to try next. Minecarts are good because they take items super-quick, which will help solve the problem of dropping loose items onto a hopper and walking away, leaving them to despawn. Pearl goes out to collect some logs. A chatter suggests that an item does not despawn if a dolphin is playing with it. Pearl thinks that’s a funny idea, if impractical. Chat says that a multiple minecart system is what Tango used for the Decked Out shuffler. Pearl thinks about this, as well as thepossibility of a dispenser-based randomizing system.

35:00 Pearl realizes she is talking redstone like a redstoner and wonders what the heck has happened to her since last week. Chat embraces her new redstonification. She gathers up supplies for more testing. There’s a little bit of room in the existing redstone, but it’s going to be tight. Before Pearl starts redstoning, she thanks chat for donos and subs.

41:20 Pearl is happy to live in a place that doesn’t require driving or walking everywhere. Driving in a city is so much worse than public transit, but she also doesn’t have to walk a long way. Where Pearl lives, some things are walkable and she can drive to other places, and that is perfect. Chat agrees about avoiding city driving. She tells a story about getting stuck in LA traffic, which is even worse than Melbourne. She wishes she could enjoy the observatory she visited out there more, but it was right after TwitchCon and she was feeling horrible. A chatter asks if she’s been to Singapore, but she has not. She continues talking about public transportation and tells a story about a train that never showed up and required an expensive Uber ride to not miss D&D.

49:00 Pearl continues catching up on subs and donos. She considers whether there is something she can be doing while she’s talking, but there’s not much that doesn’t require brain effort. She is jumpscared again by having subs over 50 months, which seems like such a long time.

52:00 Pearl talks with Chat about Pokemon as she heads down into the redstone. She is very against the idea of brown Cyndaquil. Chat agrees about recent downgrades in Pokemon. Pearl says Platinum is the last game she loved. She begins installing the randomizer system. She needs to be careful because if the water-stream goes out of control, it can mess up a lot of redstone. Chat contributes ideas and critique about redstone as she builds.

57:50 Pearl successfully places her system without drowning the redstone. It doesn’t look quite as nice on the display side, but she is all right with it. She adds a timer to finish it up, and makes sure both hoppers are lockable. Space in the redstone area is getting tight. Chat suggests removing one hopper entirely, which helps. Pearl figures out what needs to be done in what order for it all to work properly. She warns chat that this will be Pearlstone, and that means it will not be pretty.

1:07:00 Pearl finishes connecting up the randomizer to the system, then has sudden concerns as to whether it will actually randomize the items as they come in. As the system is set up now, the dispenser dispenses before it is full, which means it will not have time to randomize. Pearl and chat devise a system to fix this and increase the randomzation. A chatter points out a problem in the line with a pulse extender and Pearl fixes it, while quizzing chat til she understands what the problem was.

1:12:00 Pearl begins working on the hopper clock on the opposite side of the new randomizer. There is not very much space available. She goes back and redoes some of the redstone she just made to add more room. She pops out to collect some scaffolding and thanks chat for subs and donos.

1:17:00 Pearl returns to working on the redstone. She falls off the scaffolding a few times and sarcastically declares how much she loves it. She runs out of smooth stone and grabs more. Chat suggests learning to color-code redstone, Pearl says maybe next time. She and chat have a conversation about the function of a reversed signal and a pulse extender. She explains to Chat the initial problem with reset that needed the pulse extender solution.

1:23:00 Pearl prepares to test the redstone. She set a new word yesterday but Tango was too busy flinging Skizzleman into the Void to actually play it. She tells Chat to close their eyes if they don’t want to know the answer for this week, then decides to leave camera mode and hide it so Chat can’t spoil it to anyone. One she has arranged the supplies appropriately for the correct answer, she brings Chat back and presses the solve button. The win celebration happens like it’s supposed to. She tests the fail. The fail happens like it should as well. Pearl is pleased. She hides the game again to unload the letters, but some become lost in the system. They are stuck in the dropper because she pressed the reset, but everything is okay. Chat sees some of the letters. Pearl decides to change the word and asks chat to guess. They guess it correctly.

1:29 Pearl shows off some of her prize bundles and says she is going to change some of them to be more themed. Chat suggests changing the theme every month or week. She does not want to retexture the dyes into letters, it’s no longer on theme with the shop. She also likes that it’s a little more vanilla. She tests the reset again and realizes she needs to adjust the water stream. She tests it again and this time everything comes back in a random order.

1:34:30 Pearl sees a flaw in the system. She thinks there might need to be a delay on item release or the correct letters might always come back first, ruining the randomizing. Further testing is needed. She collects her redstone supplies back up while talking with Chat about the possibility of flower crowns for rare prizes. Pearl needs to buy more fireworks, but not just yet. She starts doing the redstone to add the delay.

1:43:00 Chat is attempting to help with the redstone, with varying amounts of forcefulness. Pearl reminds Chat that there are lots of different ways to do redstone and people advocating too many methods or being too pushy about their preferred way can make it uncomfortable to do redstone on camera. The redstone is expanding rapidly.

1:49:50 Pearl tests the randomizer. The signal strength is difficult to calibrate, it is either too weak to activate the randomizer or too strong and sets it off early. Pearl begins calibrating the system to get the correct signal strength for the result she needs. She releases a bit of water but fortunately it only kills one bit of redstone. An Australian streamer raids in and compliments Pearl on the new video. She chats with them a bit about ancient city raiding in a hardcore world being nerve-wracking.

1:54:15 Pearl tests the redstone again. The delay is too short. Pearl explains the problem to chat, chat suggests “more comparators.” There is not much room to add more redstone at all. Pearl contemplates moving other redstone to make more room. She digs into the wall instead. She decides to do another proper test with the actual letters. Chat tells her that her redstone is reversed. She changes it, apologizing that she is not as cool as Tango and is doing Noobstone.

2:02:00 Time for the test. Pearl throws letters in in alphabetical order to see if they get scrambled nicely. It did not work because things came back into the chest too quickly to get randomized. Pearl has a big thonky-thonk about what to do next. Another streamer raids in. Pearl starts troubleshooting again.

2:09:00 Another test, it’s looking better, it will randomize til the letter G instead of C. She needs a long enough delay to send the whole alphabet through the system. Chat suggests an Etho clock, she says she is not very familiar with it, but will lean on chat if they help her build one. She replaces a patch of Pearlstone with a hopper clock, following instructions from Chat. Chat tells her she needs at least 17.6 seconds.

2:18:00 A chatter asks if Pearl is calling the game Wordle. Pearl says no, it’s Wordle-inspired, but she won’t call it that. She shows off the signs she put up at the entrance and says she took suggestions from the chat: the game is called “Dye-duction.” You use dye to deduce what the word is. “Pearldle” was a close runner up but is hard to say and a little cheesy. She returns to the redstoning.

2:25:00 Another test. The randomizing is working, but it’s still too short. Things are still getting stuck in the system. She decides to try extending the clock and also needs to fix the locking conditions on one hopper. She tests it again. It does not work. She studies chat, hoping for answers. Chat has suggestions.

2:30:00 More troubleshooting. Pearl accuses chat of misleading her when she was in fact right all along. Most of chat just seems a little confused, but of the chatters trying to help, the votes are split between “correct” and “wrong.” Pearl says this is why people don’t do redstone on stream.

2:36:40 Pearl spots a creeper down in the guts of the redstone and is Not Happy about it. She asks it to please not blow up her redstone. She gets her bow and takes care of the creeper with no damage done. Pearl asks why it always has to be a creeper and never a zombie or skeleton. Redstoning continues

2:41:00 Pearl takes a moment to process, thanks subs and donos. She is an hour behind on her donator thank-yous and has no idea how she is 2:42 into the stream. False raids into the stream. Pearl continues to disbelieve that she has spent this much time on a randomizer. She’s fine. She’s fine. Attendance is down for the stream, but chat is fine too. Pearl chats with False’s raiders. Chat asks if Pearl needs a snack or a drink, but she is fine. She has a drink. False and her chat have been doing base design. Pearl likes how everyone has been building bases in stages this season, it’s neat! Redstone continues.

2:53:00 Pearl loses some of the letter dyes from the system when they shoot out of the water stream. She finds all of them except light gray, and enables freecam to look for it. As she swoops around, she briefly dips out of the room and into x-ray view. There is a chasm below, which contains a number of mobs, and something that looks like a green room or tunnel with a white stripe along it. Pearl finds her lost dye and pops back into her body, mentioning she saw something down there she hadn’t meant to look at and is just going to ignore. She rearranges her letters in the box and does another test. The piston is very very loud and the signal is too strong. All the items get stuck at the top of the water stream. Pearl tries to put the items away but activates the circuit again, so the items spit back out again. Test failed.

2:57:00 Pearl disables the circuit and collects up her letters again. She decides to try again with a different repeater delay and yells at the hopper clock until it behaves itself. She reloads the letters for another test. Things are much less obviously broken on this test, but the hopper that should release stays locked for longer than is ideal. At the end of the test, though, the letters are randomized and in the chest. Victory!

3:03 Pearl resets for another test, this time to make sure that the first-in-first-out problem doesn’t cause any hints. She points out that she has added something to the system that can break. She runs the test again. The chest does not randomize very well this time, despite everything going through the system. Another test has the same result. Pearl figures out what is going wrong and discusses possible solutions with chat.

3:16:00 Redstone work resumes. Pearl has a solution in mind, and she hopes to do it without flooding the room. Pearl and chat briefly forget how many letters are in the alphabet. A chatter gives her an idea that will allow her to switch the game to allow for the entire alphabet later if she wants it. She likes that idea and decides to implement it.

3:24:00 Another test. It looks good in the water stream and stops when it needs to. Pearl is excited. The chest is nicely randomized. The hopper clock is not finished yet, and she has not solved the first-in-first out issue with the correct answer letters, but it’s progress! She goes to adjust the hopper clock and runs the test again. Again random, and with better timing, but the letter K is stuck in a dropper. She tests again. Letter C gets stuck in the same place. She adjusts the timer a little bit and wonders how this became a redstone stream. Everything works!

3:32:00 Pearl prepares for a full playtest. She walks chat through the gameplay and decides doing a reset on the reset barrel is not worth it. She does a playtest and pretends she doesn’t remember the word. The moment the letters are out of the chest, it begins cycling. She discusses possible fixes with chat. Chat suggests a “do not touch” potato that stays in the chest, but Pearl is certain that it will be touched consistently by Hermits because Hermits don’t read things.

3:38:30 Pearl admits that a “do not take this block” block is the easiest solution, but she’s trying to minimize points of possible breakage. The biggest consequence of moving the block would be a loud noise, so the problem is fairly small. Pearl comes up with a solution involving sticky pistons that might be effective and might be silly. Chat thinks if it works, it’s not silly. She tries out the solution.

3:45:00 Time to test the fix. Pearl simulates a reset and giggles “It’s working” as the items begin to circulate. She asks if she actually fixes it, with a solution she came up with herself and didn’t get from chat. She is very proud. Chat is very proud of her. She reorders the letters for a full randomization test. The test runs successfully, though with a couple patches of ordered letters. Time for a playtest.

3:50 Pearl reorganizes her inventory and sets up for a playtest. She adds the correct letters. The win condition runs successfully, but she forgets to put away the winning letters before reset. She tries it again. It works successfully, there is no sign of what the original word was. Pearl is pleased. She gets a nosebleed, but not a bad one. She stuffs a bit of paper up her nose to stop it. Chat tells her she needs Etho’s Kleenex box, but she points out that every tissue removed from that box is one less layer of sound dampening.

3:56:30 With four minutes left of stream time, Pearl says they couldn’t possibly have cut that finer. She decides to do a quick fail test. She puts in “PATHS,” then changes it to “PEARL” because it has some needed letters. The fail test works. Pearl doesn’t like that she can’t do a true playtest because she always knows the word. She thinks about asking Impulse to playtest for her. She puts in “SHELF”, another good test. She plays “FIELDS” and gets the win condition. She resets again and decides to ask Impulse to play. The correct letters are in the first five slots. Pearl needs to put a timer on the letter release. She decides that she has nothing big to do tomorrow, so she’s going to go overtime on the stream.

4:04:30. Back to the redstone. Pearl does another win test and looks at the way the chests empty. The letters randomize on this go-through. She wonders if she was just unlucky. She tries the test again and asks if Impulse is streaming. Chat says no, Impulse is sick. This test has three correct letters at the top and two at the bottom. Pearl is mostly satisfied.

4:14:20 Pearl invites Impulse to play a game. Impulse says “Depends” Pearl asks if he wants to play or not. Impulse asks if it will kill him. Pearl assures him it will not. He agrees to play. She invites him to the flower shop. She resets the game, cleans the playing room, and goes to find Impulse. He’s a hard guy to find.

4:18:00 Pearl finds impulse at the flower truck. He sounds pretty rough, but says he’s okay. She asks if he’s ready to play Wordle. He says he likes Wordle, and that he is proud of her for doing redstone. She leads him to the new shop and shows him around, then welcomes him to Dye-Duction. She tells him she’s just going to watch him play and see what happens. He doesn’t have to pay today.

4:20:15 Impulse reads some of the instructions aloud. Pearl reminds him to guess words and not just letter combinations. Impulse admits he didn’t read enough of the book to know where things are. He goes back and reads the book. He plays through the game with some small guidance from Pearl on the technical aspects of the game. He plays “SPACE,”

4:26:40 Impulse tries to think of a second word. His dogs start barking at the landscaper and he leaves for a moment. He comes back and says it’s hard when the dyes are not in order. He plays “BEING” and still has no letters in the right spot.

4:31:00 Impulse tries to think of another word. Pearl assures him there’s no pressure, she’s had people watch her do redstone for the past four hours and she knows from pressure. She tells him it’s really quite simple. He says it’s _not._ She asks what Impulse says when he’s doing redstone, like how Tango and Mumbo have catchphrases. He admits he hasn’t got a line, but Chat is bopping.

4:34:15 Impulse is struggling. Pearl is amused. Impulse plays “THEIR” and has one letter in the right spot. Still no more letters. Impulse is getting squeaky with Wordle-related distress. Pearl realizes that having each letter only once makes Wordle considerably harder and that random letter combos might be okay to counteract that. She mutes herself in-game so she can laugh at Impulse.

4:40:40 Impulse wants a sign he can write on. He tries it out, then realizes he can’t see his inventory when the sign is up. A sign would at least let him save guesses. Pearl and chat discuss custom textures to make the dyes look more lettery.

4:43:00 Impulse plays “FIELD” and gets the win event. He is happy and gets the prize. He reads the book and puts the supplies back in the box. He presses reset and tells Pearl the game is impressive and enjoyable. He isn’t used to playing Wordle under pressure and is sweating about it, but in general it was fun and he’s going to cut the footage to make it look like he guessed very quickly.

4:47:00 Pearl says she isn’t going to do signs but people can use whispers or an actual piece of paper to make notes. Impulse gives back the bundle because his game was comped, but Pearl says she’s going to reset the game and open it today or tomorrow so he can play. She says she’s going to rig up a hint barrel for people who get really stuck. She asks if he wants to see behind the curtain.

4:48:20 Pearl gives Impulse the redstone tour. He jokes about how she needs documentation for all this. She tells him she used his sorters for the game. He said he saw her screenshot while he was on his cruise and was proud to see his sorters. She thanks him for helping her test. Chat suggests naming the shop Dye On The Inside. Pearl and Impulse talk about how lack of repeated letters and only five guesses can make things harder. Impulse thinks no repeated letters is not bad, just hard to learn to think about.

4:51:00 Pearl explains that she’s trying to eliminate user error from the system. Impulse agrees it needs to be spam-proofed for Grian. Pearl needs to add a few more rules to the book before the game opens. Impulse says the game is cool and leaves. Pearl is pleased with the test run and knows she needs to install a locker room and hint barrel. Chat remembers that Impulse didn’t take his stuff. Pearl sends him a message.

4:54:10 Impulse sneaks in and grabs his stuff. Pearl explains her next video will be less about the game and more about stocking the actual shop. Before she ends, Pearl wants to do a few last things, but chat wants Skizz to test the game. Pearl sends him a message, asking “Would you like to play a game?” Skizz is always up to play a game. Impulse says he heard that in the Saw voice. Pearl says that was the correct way to hear that. She discusses the possibilty of making the game a death trap. It would be pretty difficult. She sets up a new recording for Skizz’s visit.

4:57:00 Pearl and Chat decide that easier than a death trap would be a chest where if the contestant loses, they need to pay another diamond to get their stuff back. Easier, but diabolical. The reward would have to be very good to justify that. She examines her bundles again and decides which ones to switch out. Chat suggests adding coupons to the bundles, Pearl likes that idea. Skizz doesn’t know where the shop is, so Pearl gives him directions.

4:59:00 Skizz and a creeper arrive at the flower shop at the same time. Pearl warns Skizz off while she deals with the “green cucumber.” She is very impressed with Skizz’s green shutter shades from Mission Possible. Skizz asks if he’ll be playing Wordle. She says yes and asks how good he is at it. He says he doesn’t like to brag, but… She leads him downstairs, introduces him to Dyeductions, and has him read the book.

5:00:30 Skizz looks at the book and is dismayed by nine pages. He reads the book aloud. He loves the “no letters twice” thing. Pearl adds a few editorial comments for things she’s going to change or that he doesn’t get. He accidentally picks up the book, sets it down, and loses track of it. This is because he is losing his connection, because he instantly falls offline.

5:03:00 Pearl hopes that Skizz didn’t fake losing connection so he doesn’t have to play Wordle. She talks to chat about color choices and waits for him to come back, which he does. He says everything crashed. He finishes reading the book and drops his inventory into the barrel. Pearl critiques his crowded inventory. Skizz gathers his supplies and readies for his first guess. He can’t remember what starter word he wants to use. After a moment of thought, he plays “HORSE,” because eliminating an H eliminates all H blends. He gets one letter, not in the right place.

5:08:30 Skizz clears the board and sets up for his next guess. Pearl creates a sign to remind players of which letters are not included in the game. Skizz is nervous! Pearl tells him not to be stressed. She creates a sign to remind players that letters do not appear twice. Skizz plays “CLEAN,” a word that pleases Cleaning Lady Pearl. He gets a letting in the right place and a letter in the wrong place. He clears the board again. He is so impressed by Pearl’s redstone prowess. Pearl tells him she had so much fun making the game.

5:14:00 Skizz tries to figure out his next guess. Pearl is impressed by his deduction attempts. Skizz says not having letters on the textures makes it hard, but Pearl tells him she is still not sure what to do about this. She mentions that all the vowels are flowers. Skizz says I before E except after C and promises he is actually good at this. He says he’s going to edit this to be much faster. He continues muttering to himself and looking at letters while Pearl thinks about Mission Possible.

5:17:20 Skizz decides on a word. It is “FIELD.” He bops all the letters into place. Chat is so excited. He gets the win condition and is very pleased. Impulse, who was stream sniping, yells “woo!” in chat. Skizz explains that when he and Impulse play Wordle, they share their results. A word guessed in two tries is a twofer, a word guessed in three is a woo. Pearl tells Skizz he did it in faster than Impulse with one less try. He demurs, saying he may have done one less try, but he doubts he did it faster. ((He did it much faster, in about half the time it took Impulse.)) He asks to take a peep at the redstone using freecam. He asks Pearl how she is both an amazing builder and an amazing redstoner and accuses her of hogging all the cool. Pearl says she’s not really a redstoner, but Skizz scoffs at that. He tells her not only did he have fun with the game, he was very impressed.

5:20:10 Skizz puts away the supplies and resets the game. He looks at his bundle, the orange and red dyes. She tells him he can keep it and tells him about her plan for new bundle rewards. Hoffen is doing the bundle texture. Skizz tells her he has an enormous amount of pink dye if she needs it. Pearl gets most of her dyes from Keralis, but she won’t say no to dyes. She tells him the shop will be open in a week or two, but the game is opening very soon, with one word per week. Chat is still busy loving on Pearl after Skizz’s compliments.

5:23:00 Skizz thinks Pearl could charge more than a diamond for the play or the hint, because the bundles are so nice. He promises to play again as soon as the word resets, then leaves. Pearl heads downstairs and realizes she forgot to ensnare Skizz in her Mission Possible task. She says she thought about doing it before he finished the Wordle, but he was very dialed in. She still has plenty of time. She has not told Chat what the task is. She wants to come up with a better sto- a better thing anyway. Chat asks if it’s in her video and she remembers yes, she did put it in the video. She’s still not going to give it away in case of lurking Hermits, but she’s going to get something better put together before she completes the mission.

5:26:00 Pearl says the worst problem so far is hermits not noticing the droppers. She thinks about ways to fix it. Chat suggests adding a sign with the date that the game was last updated. Pearl agrees, and talks again about the leaderboard and locker room. Otherwise, the game is done!

5:28:00 Pearl says it’s time to end the stream. She asks what it is about redstone that makes these 5+ hour streams. She must be having fun if she lets it run so long! She could actually keep streaming, but she has stuff to do in the gaming district. This week is birthday week, so she has family stuff to do, plus she uploaded late and has less time to make her next video. She wants to get back to her Friday release schedule. She needs to figure out what will be in her next video before she makes it, too. Her birthday and Kahn’s birthday are both this week, but she will not take a week off. Taking a week off is so bad for the YouTube algorithm. Right now she is very happy with everything she’s doing on the server and has been having a lot of fun. She tells chat she’s streaming again tomorrow

5:31:50 Pearl realizes she has not read out her notifications for three hours. She is embarrassed and blames redstone streaming. She wails a bit, then starts thanking her subs and donos. Pearl and the chat have a mutual-appreciation party for a little while. Pearl thinks Chat is wonderful, and that things are better now than in older streams, with less backseating and more support. She liked streaming back then but even more now. There are fewer trolls (she thinks this may be because she gave up facecam) and more peaceful building. She likes how Chat offers good suggestions in kind ways. Chat is loving this and feeding compliments right back to Pearl. Pearl says she feels good after every stream these days. Some people in the community give fair critique but in painful ways that makes people feel bad instead of making them better, and that has happened with other creators she knows recently, but her chat is excellent. Pearl also says she understands a fraction of what Tango felt when he finished Decked Out.

5:44:40 Ollie Orionsound appears in chat and asks about the game, so Pearl gives him the very short tour of how the redstone works for the game itself. Ollie thinks it is “so cool.” After the tour, Pearl says she needs to end stream now. No Hermits are streaming Minecraft so she raids into Jono, who is mixing the Poe Poe song, and ends her stream.

[streaminn]

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The client may not, in any way shape or form, use the art in a commission product for NFTs, no matter how much they offer to pay the artist. Should NFTs be made of the art without consent, the client gives full consent for the artist to take legal action against them.

The client may make minor edits to the completed commission (e.g. cropping, adding text/borders, changing brightness/contrast/hue/saturation…

The client may use/reupload the commission for personal/non-commercial use, but only if proper credit to the artist and a linkback to any of the artist’s social media is provided.

If the commission includes characters that do not belong the client, additional credit to the owner(s)/creator(s) of said characters must be provided when using/reuploading for personal/non-commercial use.

The client may not use the commission for any commercial use unless discussed with the artist beforehand.

^ Should the client use the art for commercial use, provided the artist’s consent, the artist will receive an agreed-upon percentage of the sales profits.

The client MUST credit the artist for any usage of the art on any platform.

The client MUST ask the artist if they want to use their art as a reference, and proceed to credit each time the reference is used. REVISION POLICIES Once the coloring stage begins, the only major revisions permitted are details that the artist may have missed and was specified by the client in the order while the commission was still in the sketching/lineart stage (e.g. a missing tattoo that’s essential to the character’s design).

If the client is unsatisfied with the commission, the artist is willing to discuss and make minor edits as stated prior (e.g. adjusting colors). However, the artist will not redraw the piece and expects full payment, as the client should have specified in the sketch stage changes they wanted to be made.

The client may not hire another artist to adjust the image without the commissionee’s consent.

The artist is willing to edit the image post commission for the commissioner, but may charge a small fee depending on what is being asked of them. Upon commissioning the artist, the client automatically agrees to the terms of service provided, as it is assumed they have read them.

-

…and that’s about it? Just don’t expect me to be obligated to draw something and we'll figure something out. Not to mention that depending on how much commissions i’m getting and how busy i am, the art will take atleast a few days to a week!

If you got references, provide them! It’ll help alot. You can also ask for progress updates, just don’t mind me accidentally not seeing the message bc this is tumblr and I don’t get notifs for some reason.

as of rn, im accepting payment through ko-fi and paypal

But ye! That’s about it, thanks for seeing this yall. If you want to see more examples, simply look at the tags below in my account!

[nikethestatue]

One of the most common questions that we--Elriels--ask for the past going on 4 years, is HOW. How can (you) not see Elriel? How can (you) not see the buildup throughout the books? How do (you) not see the development of their relationship? HOW? Because, in the words of the author, it's pretty obvious.

We've heard things like 'SJM changed her mind!' 'SJM is a fated mates author!' (we'll come back to that later) 'SJM set up a new ship in the bonus chapter!' "Gwyn and Azriel are so similar and have the same powers! They are equals!' "Gwyn and Azriel have banter!!!' 'It's only lust between Azriel and Elain!'

And that brings me to Nesta and Cassian.

Nesta and Cassian had a whole VERY long book. We've all read it. It's a book of lust and love between the two of them. Of LOTS of banter. Of sex. Of becoming 'equals' and Nesta taking on military-style training, becoming an Oristian to Cassian's Carynthian. We find out that Nesta's been madly in love with Cassian since the moment she saw him. We get 'golden threads' binding them on Solstice and them being revealed as fated mates.

You might say--yes, we know all this! why are you wasting our time with the synopsis?

I'll explain.

Lately, especially post HOFAS, I've been seeing more and more 'theories' about how Nessian is a 'fake bond' and that Nesta and Cassian aren't actually mates. No. Apparently, the Cauldron, enraged at Nesta stealing some of its power, threw out a fake mate bond at her and Cassian as a curse and in retaliation. She's been shackled to Cassain. Whereas her one true love is Eris. Her real mate. And in the next Nesta book, Cassian is going to get killed and Nesta will move on to Eris and live happily ever after.

Which brings me to another couple--Bryce and Hunt. Who are chosen mates and who've gone through unimaginable trials and hardships, only for people to ship Bryce with Azriel (unironically). In this case, we had the same story--the Quinlar bond was fake. Hunt was going to die. Bryce would find happiness with Azriel.

The same people who foam at the mouth with 'ELUCIEN are fated mates and SJM is a fated mates author' are writing metas about how Nessian have a fake bond. The same people who scream about Gwynriel's 'BANTER!' and how they are equals, now say that the Nesta and Cassian have nothing in common, and apparently, she has more in common with...Eris?

And my point is simple--no matter what SJM says or writes, there will always be absolutely deranged detractors of everything that is canon, of everything that she had said, of everything that's been published.

So, it's not us. It's actually them. We are not the crazy ones who happen to read the text and come up with logical conclusions. We are not the ones who don't have 'reading comprehension'. We are not the ones 'who've never read a romance'. We are not the ones who 'never had a relationship'. No. We simply read what SJM put down on paper and we have a rational approach to canon.

But it also means that even if she made an announcement TODAY, saying out loud, online, in writing--the next book will be Elain's and she will be paired with Azriel--there will still be thousands of people out there denying it. They will be coming up with scenarios of how that will absolutely, definitively, 100% never happen.

In this fandom, fanon rules. Not the author's own words. Not the books. Not any logical conclusion. Not anything rational.

The more I see of this nonsense, the more I understand why SJM pulled away and why no matter what she says, she will be disregarded and people will flock to BookTok and listen to insane 'theories', disseminate them and then argue until someone gets a heart attack about how the theory is 'correct'.

Basically, cheer up Elriels. You ain't crazy. Don't let anyone gaslight you into believing that you are wrong. You are every, very right.

[sissylittlefeather]

Let's Forget About the Stars: Chapter 2

A/N: Another chapter for Elvis and Dove! I'm really loving writing a happy couple 😂. Those of you who know me know I usually torture my characters for at least a decade before I let them be happy, but not this time! Also, just a quick note about the nickname: that is a real endearment in Mvskoke, but I spelled it phonetically instead of in the right alphabet. Anyway, I hope you guys love them!

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, this gets a little sexy, erection, reference to masturbation, fingering, dry humping, orgasms, ejaculation, also racism and period-appropriate use of the word "Indian"

Word count: ~2.7k

He kisses her again as the sun rises on them. And he's right. This is only the beginning.

******

Elvis and Dove spend the next few weeks in a haze of young love. They have to be careful about where they go and when because his fans seem to always find them, but for the most part they make a way. They spend as much time together as possible and at the end of each night he kisses her in his car outside of the ladies boarding house she has a room in. Every kiss builds in intensity and they struggle to stop themselves from taking it further. His hands roam over her body, squeezing her hips and even venturing to her breasts. She kisses his neck and nibbles his earlobes and they both moan and whimper so much it sounds like they're in pain. And they are every time they have to stop.

Elvis is convinced she's the woman he wants for his first time, but still he wants to wait. He's not sure what exactly he's waiting for, but he knows it's too soon now.

Dove is dying to give herself to him but she lives in constant fear that the second she does he'll lose interest. So instead, she gently pushes his hands away and he moves them to a more acceptable place and tells her goodnight, breathing heavily and dreaming of the day he'll be able to touch her however he wants.

Every time she makes it to her room, she collapses on the bed, her body buzzing and pulsing on the edge of something she can't identify. Elvis is left in the drivers seat with a raging erection, trying to calm himself down before he has to get out of the car. Several times he rushes straight to his bedroom to lay on his bed and pump himself to a release, quietly moaning her name as he makes a mess on his hand. He's running out of self control, but he doesn't want to ruin what he has with Dove. She matters too much.

One night they're finding it particularly difficult to stop. They've said goodnight no less than four times, but they're still glued together, his hand slowly creeping up her thigh under her skirt, his dick so hard it hurts. She whimpers and backs away.

"Elvis, wait." He pulls his hand back and flexes it, groaning. "We have to stop."

His breath is hot against her as he tries to calm down. He kisses her shoulder and exhales deeply.

"I know, Dovey, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Maybe we just... should?" Her heart skips when she says it. But she's started to wonder how much longer she can make him wait.

"No... no I want to wait until..." For the first time it dawns on him. He knows what he's waiting for. "You need to meet my parents."

"What?" The conversation took a turn she did not expect. In his mind, though, he can't do what he wants to do, ask her what he wants to ask her, until she's met his parents.

"You need to meet Mama and Daddy. Come to dinner tomorrow night."

"O-okay." The prospect is a daunting one for her. She's not sure what they expect of his girlfriends, but she's guessing it's not her. Hopefully, they're not too off-put by her background. "Elvis?"

He kisses her neck gently, trying not to start anything again, but desperate to feel her.

"Yes, Dovey?" She whimpers as he moves down to her collarbone.

"Is it gonna be a problem... that I'm... not white?" He backs up and looks at her sternly.

"No. My mama's people have Cherokee somewhere way back. But if it is, they'll hear from me about it." She nods nervously and he takes her face in his hands. "They'll love you. You have nothing to worry about."

He kisses her deeply and passionately and she presses her body against his. The heat comes back and before they know it they're both breathless and running their hands everywhere again.

"I need to get out of this car."

"Yes you do." He kisses her again.

"I really really do." More kissing.

"Mhmm." She pulls away from him slowly, peeling her body off of his, laughing softly.

"I'll see you tomorrow., Jumbee." She rubs her nose on his. He blinks and laughs.

"What did you call me?"

"Oh! I'm sorry. It's a term of endearment in my language. Like sweetie or honey. It's what my mom calls my dad. I'm sorry, I won't-"

"No, I love it." He nuzzles his nose on hers and then kisses her again.

Reluctantly, she pulls away and slides across the seat to the door, pushing it open to walk up to her front porch. Before she does, though, she leans down to the window.

"Goodnight, Jumbee." He smiles softly.

"G'night, Dovey." She turns and skips up to the front door and he watches. Then he leans his head back against the seat, touching himself gently and whimpering. This is definitely a night that he'll be sneaking into his room for some alone time.

******

The next night, Elvis pulls up to Graceland with Dove on his front seat. Up until now, she hasn't seen where he lives.

"Woah." Her mouth drops and he laughs.

"I forget how impressive it is if you've never seen it."

"This is beautiful. You didn't tell me you lived in a place like this." He can tell the house makes her nervous.

"We didn't always. This is new. Come on."

"Jumbee, I don't know." He turns to her on the front seat and puts his hand on her cheek.

"Dovey, baby, it's gonna be fine. You trust me?" She looks into his eyes and nods. He kisses her softly and then pushes his forehead into hers. "Come on."

He gets out of the car and runs around to the passenger side to let her out. She stands up out of the car and he puts his hand on the small of her back to lead her inside. In the foyer, she smiles awkwardly as he proudly introduces her to his parents.

"Mama, Daddy, this is Dove Morningstar."

"It's nice to meet you both." Gladys and Vernon smile and shake her hand genially. Gladys speaks first.

"Dove. That's an interesting name."

"Oh, it's actually a nickname. My real name is Eleanor, but they've called me Dove since I was a kid."

"Well, it's lovely."

"Thank you, ma'am." Vernon finally speaks up.

"And Morningstar. You're Indian?"

"Yes, sir. Seminole."

"Hmm." He grunts and Dove can't tell if he's disapproves or if he's just quiet. Elvis steps in.

"Dovey is a singer. You should hear her. She sings better than me." He puts his arm around her waist and pulls her close to him. Gladys smiles at the two of them, glad to see her boy so happy.

"I'd love to hear you sometime, honey. Maybe after dinner we can gather 'round the piano." Dove nods, smiling a little more naturally now. "Speaking of dinner, it's ready. Let's go sit."

Gladys turns and they follow her into the dining room. The rest of the evening passes in polite conversation. Elvis excitedly tells the story of how they met, leaving out all the kissing that happened on the rooftop. Dove answers questions about her family and her upbringing and listens attentively to the stories that the Presleys share. Overall, things go very well.

After dinner, they gather around the piano singing together. Gladys is indeed impressed by Dove's voice and her knowledge of gospel songs. Eventually, Dove sits on the bench next to Elvis and puts her hands on the keys. Elvis didn't even know she played, but he watches her in awe as she gently presses the keys, singing a hymn in her Native language. When she finishes, he leans over and kisses her softly, unable to stop himself.

"That was beautiful, Dovey."

"Thanks, Jumbee." She whispers it but they're close enough that Gladys catches her nickname for him.

"That's sweet. What's it mean?" Dove looks up at her but before she can answer, Elvis cuts in.

"It's an endearment in her language. She used it for me and it just kinda stuck." He smiles proudly again and Vernon sighs discontentedly.

"Son, can I talk with you for a moment?"

"Sure, Daddy." He gestures and Elvis follows him into the corner. Dove plays another song on the piano and Gladys sings along. At the end, she stops her.

"Honey, how do you know all these gospel songs?"

"Oh. My daddy is a preacher."

"An Indian preacher?"

"Yes ma'am." Gladys beams. She's proud of her son for finding such a good girl. "Play another one, baby."

Dove goes into another song and the ladies harmonize while the men talk.

"You're not serious about this girl, Elvis." Elvis looks at him in shock.

"I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You know you have an image to uphold now."

"Yeah, and? I know the Colonel wants me single, but I can't stay that way forever."

"It's not just that, son. This kind of... interracial relationship... it's not gonna be good."

"Interracial relationship?!"

"She's not white, son."

"And you think that's a problem?"

"I think it just might be more trouble than she's worth." Elvis raises his voice and catches the attention of both women.

"You listen to me, Daddy. I don't care what you or anybody else has to say about it. She is worth it and I am serious about her."

"Now, son, there's no need-"

"No, there is a need! I love her and nothing you say is going to change it!" He stops and looks around the silent room. Dove has stopped playing the piano. She whispers to herself.

"He loves me?" Gladys responds quietly.

"That's what I heard." She puts her hands on Dove's shoulders protectively, glaring at Vernon. Elvis crosses the room and stands her up to face him.

"Yes. I love you, Dovey and I don't care who knows it." A warm smile spreads across her face.

"I love you too, Elvis." He leans down and kisses her a little more passionately than he should in front of his parents.

"Come on, Vernon. Let's get to bed and leave these two young people to each other." Gladys goes to usher him out of the room.

"Goodnight, Mama." Elvis says it without taking his eyes off of Dove.

"You two don't stay up too late."

"Yes ma'am."

"It was lovely to meet you, Dove."

"You too, Mrs. Presley." She knows it's probably rude, but she can't look away from Elvis. Gladys smiles again and walks from the room with Vernon in tow. Once his parents are gone, Elvis pulls Dove into a deep kiss, pressing his body against hers. He whispers against her lips.

"Come up to my room." He turns and takes her hand, leading her up the stairs. Once they get to his room, Dove swallows nervously. "Dovey, it's okay. Tonight's not the night."

She smiles and he pulls her into another kiss. The kiss heats up and he walks her backwards to the bed. He lays down with her, running his hand across her stomach and down to her hip. She throws her leg over him and rolls her hips into his. He pulls back, breathing heavily.

"Okay, slow down."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, baby. I know it's hard to stop." A lightbulb goes off for him and he smiles. "Honey, what if we... did something... but not... that..."

"Like what?" He smiles slyly.

"Do you trust me?"

"Always, Jumbee." He moves his hand down to her knee, trying to stop himself from trembling. His hand slides slowly up her thigh to her hip under her skirt. Then, he walks his fingers over to her center. She whimpers.

"Elvis, what are you doing?"

"Just let me touch you. I promise we won't go any further." She nods. He fumbles a little but eventually gets his fingers under the edge of her panties, moving them down to the place where she didn't even know she was aching for him.

"Oh..." She moans softly as his finger finds her center and moves around the edges of her entrance. "Tell me if it hurts or doesn't feel good..."

She whimpers again as he carefully slides one finger inside her.

"Oh, God." He looks at her carefully.

"Good?"

"Yes..." He starts to move his finger in and out and she moans. He smiles and then leans in, kissing her neck gently. He's talked to the guys enough to know what to do next. His thumb makes its way carefully to her sensitive bud, making circles. Her back arches and she whimpers.

"Is that good, baby?" She makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a grunt and he smiles again. He seems to be on the right track.

Dove is overwhelmed with the sensation of his hand on her. Something is building inside her and though she doesn't know what it is, she wants it to continue to completion. In efforts to reach whatever the goal is, she grinds into him, inadvertently rubbing against his cock, which is already hard just with what he's doing. He whines and rubs himself against her again. His mouth moves back up to hers and he kisses her deeply, rolling into her a little harder. She feels his hardness against her hip and it turns her on even more as she grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him in close to her.

"Oh, Elvis, don't stop!" He pumps his finger into her harder and harder as he grinds against her over and over. The friction is pushing his foreskin back and forth over his dick and he feels the pressure building.

"Mmm... Dove, baby, it feels so good."

"Yes! Yes!" He moves his thumb faster over her clit, nibbling on her earlobe and rubbing against her hip passionately. The heat between them grows as the intensity of their actions increases. His fingers move deftly against her as his hips do the same. They both feel like they're about to burst with desire and love for each other. And then they do.

"God, yes, baby, fuck!"

"Elvis!" She moans his name loudly as she climaxes hard against his hand, pulsing around his finger just as he ruts against her one last time, shuddering and whimpering, filling his pants with ropes of cum. She rides out the high of her orgasm completely oblivious to the fact that he's doing the exact same thing. He realizes what happened, though and pulls away quickly.

"Wait? Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry."

"What? Why?" She looks down at his crotch and notices the wet spot on his pants. "What happened?"

"I-I-I I finished..."

"Oh..." She giggles and he rolls his eyes, embarrassed. He tries to move away from her again and she grabs him. "No, it's okay Jumbee. That was really... it's okay..."

He looks up at her shyly.

"You really don't mind?"

"No, baby. I'm glad it was good for you too."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." She leans into him and kisses him deeply. He wraps her in his arms.

"I love you, Dovey. So much."

"I love you too, Jumbee." He nuzzles into the side of her face and kisses her cheek.

"You wanna stay? I can hold you all night." She considers what it would mean for her to stay all night with him. Then she looks into his eyes. He is her future. Why would she ever leave?

"Yes, please." A genuine smile spreads across his face and he jumps out of bed, going to his drawers. He grabs a set of pajamas and brings it over to the bed.

"You take the top and I'll take the bottoms. Then we can snuggle up and sleep all night just you and me." He pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear and kisses her cheek.

They both change into the set of pajamas and then crawl into bed. He cuddles up behind her and buries his face in her hair.

"I'm so glad I met you."

"Me too, Jumbee. Me too."

They drift off to sleep together, Elvis's mind racing with plans of how and when to ask and visions of her in a white dress walking down the aisle towards him.

******

Until next time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley

[ripleylove]

Passion.

requested by @thegalacticnacho091 saying: Hello again💕!!! I absolutely adored your writing of my last req!! I’m sorry if this is too soon you can totally ignore this but I had another idea about this little series where reader is obsessed with clothes and fashion? Again totally cool if you ignore this either way I can’t wait for your next update!!💕🎀

pairing: the judgment day x fem reader.

genre: fluff!

summary: you passion for fashion amazed the judgment day in ways that you can't even imagine.

A/N: getting older on the 14th of june 😦

sorry for making u wait @thegalacticnacho091 <3 hope u liked it!,

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

Besides stuffies and candies,another one of your most loved things was fashion.

Since you were a toddler,you always read some clothing magazines to pass the time(you actually didn't know how to read at the time,but you went through them to see the cool clothes and models.),or you watched a lot of fashion shows,aspiring to be a model or a stylist yourself.

Then,in the first years of adolescence, you started to sketch so e dresses on your free time,and,since then,your passion never saw an end.

Ever since you started working in WWE,you always gave company to the gear stylist named Alena,wanting to learn new things,since she was a professional.

Alena immediately recognised your determination and your talent,and she decided to have you as her assistant, helping her constantly with every new gear.

Of course,the members of the faction you were part of,knew about this passion of yours.

They never judged you for it,instead,they asked you to create some of their gear!

You of course complied without hesitation, and you ran to Alena for some help.

You wanted to design matching gears,in which every component of the group had some references to the faction and its members.

And,they came out stunning.

When your bestfriends saw them,they were completely amazed: the gear was completely the faction's style,but you managed to add some little touches of yours,making it even more perfect.

"So....do you like it?" You asked them with a nervous smile, since they stopped in their tracks when they saw what you and Alena created.

"We don't like it,we love it!" Rhea exclaimed, her wide smile almost reaching her ears.

"Oh hell yeah,we do!" Finn said,and Dom also thanked you for making all of that for them.

Well,you can say that from that moment on,every gear they wore in the next fights was created by you.

taglist: @stellakiddsblog @bibibi-tchx @p-mp @teenagedramaqueenlisa @thegalacticnacho091

[bellafragolina]

May I request insecurities for submas and warden Ingo? What are they insecure about, and how/when do they tell their partner? How do they respond to comfort once they do?

You got it for sure for sure I love my boys

Also, for context, submas in my headcanons have big noses cause I find that very handsome

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo:

Ingo has his fair share of insecurities regarding who he is as a person as well as how he looks. He’s too loud, he’s strange, he has a big nose, he’s bossy, he’s overly attached but also standoffish, he doesn’t smile. It’s easy to list such things, not that he ever really brings them up unless you either ask or something happens related to one of his insecurities and he feels the need to explain.

Ingo doesn’t really seek out comfort in regard to his insecurities. He’s very much an Older Sibling in the sense where he feels he has to be strong, never faltering, never showing weakness. He also tries to be a strong partner, so him talking about what makes him upset takes some time to whittle out of him.

He only doesn’t hesitate when you admit your own insecurities to him. Ingo doesn’t want you to feel alone, so he sympathizes by admitting some things he worries about too, thus you two can comfort one another together. Brains are strange and can be so mean sometimes, but they don’t know everything. Ingo knows everything about you, though, and he loves every part

When you turn it around on him, cradling his face and swooning over how handsome and amazing he is, Ingo finds it hard to deny you. He blushes and sputters some refutes, but you easily disproven them with kisses to his big nose and ever present frown, with compliments over how reliable and kind he is to his loved ones. Doubts linger, and they never fully go away, but you make Ingo feel good about himself and his idiosyncrasies, and that’s enough

Emmet:

Emmet is a lockbox, never letting slip the things he doesn’t like about himself. He refuses to talk about them because he refuses to really think about them. He ignores his insecurities most of the time, and you only ever get a hint that they’re there when he wrinkles his nose at himself in the mirror or falls silent when someone comments on his strange way of speaking

Emmet is hard to coax into talking about what bothers him. He thinks it doesn’t really matter, cause he likes himself and you and Ingo like him, so there’s no problem. Or there should be no problem. He gets frustrated for still being insecure when he knows he shouldn’t be, but sadly you can’t always just whim away these things. So Emmet ignores them instead.

Where Ingo is Older Sibling, Emmet is Younger Sibling in the sense that he keeps his issues to himself to not overburden Ingo, who already has so many responsibilities as the eldest. They’re twins, but they have their dynamics, and Emmet knows this, so he brushes off any concerns and tries to focus on being happy. And it works somewhat, until the bottle finally shatters from the pressure

When Emmet shatters, he falls into you as a pit of despair. He hates himself, he shouldn’t, he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t, but why does he have to talk this way and walk that way and look like this? Why is he off putting and why do people assume he’s so mean? You cradle his broken pieces, soft comforts and exclamations of love a glue to help him go back together again. He’s nothing short of perfect in your eyes, because Emmet is Emmet, and you love him. And Emmet learns to love that too.

Warden Ingo:

Surprisingly, Warden Ingo is more open to talking about his insecurities than Subway Boss Ingo. Maybe it’s because of his amnesia, or maybe it’s because he’s so lonely that he’s desperate to talk about anything to keep your company that much longer, or maybe it’s a mix of both. But Ingo brings up his worries about himself to you at seemingly random times, confiding in you to hopefully find either comfort or a way to fix whatever it is he doesn’t like (you never fix him, there’s nothing to fix)

Ingo admits to you concerns about his appearance, his big nose and sour expression. He worries about people fearing him, he worries about hurting people because he is naturally too loud. He’s also an outsider, and it makes him very insecure when he can’t act the “correct” way. You also being an outsider makes it easier to feel okay about his weirdness.

When things grow romantic, Ingo starts admitting more worries, concerning his age, if he’s a good partner to have, if you don’t deserve someone better. Luckily it’s easy to drown out these worries with plenty of kisses and loving affection. It’s hard to talk when your head is red as can be, after all.

Now if only he could understand why he feels so uncomfortable by himself, like he should be with someone else, guiding and protecting them. . .

🍓🍓🍓

I hope these are believable! They’re what I think the boys worry about concerning themselves. If only I could kiss those big noses <3

Have a good day!

~Renee

[sincerelylaurel]

a guide to habit stacking

what is habit stacking?

habit stacking is an important life hack to help you form new habits more efficiently. to put it simply, you are taking an already existing habit and adding (or stacking) another behavior on top, pairing it with a current habit. habit stacking comes with a very simple formula: after/before [current habit], i will [new habit]. eventually you can turn a habit stack into a long chain of behaviors that come almost naturally to you and require little to no effort. this can also be a basic structure for creating routines in your daily life.

habit stacking examples

after i make my coffee in the morning, i will meditate for a few minutes

after i change out of my work clothes, i will immediately change into my workout clothes

after i sit down to dinner, i will say one thing i’m grateful for that day

my morning routine habit stack

after i get out of bed to turn off my alarm, i immediately brush my teeth

after i brush my teeth, i make coffee

after i make coffee, i plan out my day and write a to do list

my night routine habit stack

after i make tea, i read for about 30 minutes

after i read, i take a shower

after i take a shower, i do my skincare

time and location

this strategy will only be successful if the time and location of your habit are suitable for that habit to happen. don’t ask yourself to do something every day at a time when you’re likely to be occupied by something else. you should also consider if the current habit you are stacking your new habit on is aligned with the new habit you are trying to create. they should have the same frequency and allow a natural flow to the next behavior.

finding the right trigger

to find the right trigger for your new habit stack, brainstorm what habits already exist in your life. create a list of the habits you do each day without fail (for example: brush your teeth, make a cup of coffee). then, create another list of things that happen to you each day without fail (for example: the sun rises, you get a text message). the key here is to look for specificity. provide yourself with specific instruction on when, where, and how to do this new habit.

sources:

jamesclear.com

[skeletoninthemelonland]

It's never too late for improvement! I love both Hunter and Beatrix, but personally I think Beatrix is my favourite.

She is such a deep character: the details you gave us about her backstory, her character and how she grew as one are just absolutely wonderful and so well done.

The fact that I love about her it's probably her saddest one: that she was given a mind and a body against her will and had to forcefully live like that. I'd really like to see more about her earlier days where she struggled more because of that. Not because I like to see her suffer ofc HAHAHAHAH But because I think that would be very interesting to see how she grew from that to the B2 we all know and love now :) (and because that gives me more than one reason to hug her and caress her head UEUEUEUE)

I'd also really love to see more about her and Val! God, those draws of them are stuck in my mind, I love duos like them GNFJFNFJDBF

About her and Hunter- GAAAH LLEEEHHFBFJDNFIEJ I love them and I'd really want them to be together, but maybe it's better in another universe where he hasn't done all that stuff :'') (I was too late to vote on the poll that said to forgive him or not, but I would've said no. Yeah I wouldn't hate him for the rest of my life because, as sad as it is it's the past so "it is what it is", but still I'd never forgive him for what he did)

But as I said, don't put yourself down like that. It's never too late to give us a new image of Beatrix and to give us more about her character and the rest of the story! I think that whatever you gave us until now is already so BBBBBBBEAUTIFUL, so I'm really curious about what you will give us in the future about that IDBFJSBFJSBHDE

But take your time and take care Starbs! 💖💖💖

Ahh i'm glad to hear about your point of view on Bee. Maybe I was overthinking a lot these past few days because I couldn't draw Fusionsprunt comics. Turns out I was basically forcing myself to make art for every bit of lore shared... I'll try my best not to do it again and simply post some bits of lore here and there.

There's honestly so much about being given a body and mind against your will, and it's not the first time these themes have been explored (IHNMAIMS for example, like you mentioned!). I was afraid B2's character was pushed aside because Hunter was getting more attention, despite the fact he is not the main character. It was upsetting at first, because I'm very attached to her. I'd like to give both of these two some time to shine. They have a lot of stories to tell (and many battles to fight).

Thank you for your ask! This made me feel a little bit more relieved.