#And significantly for me personally but a lot of that was catching up

[maeamian]

About to go insane trying to find sources for this, but starting to develop a theory that the idea that the bottom of the ocean is totally unknown is pretty outdated, but is an extremely compelling factoid and as such has persisted longer than it is true.

[goldenempyrean]

Do you think you could write a fic where we’re sick and our work place makes us show up to work, knowing fully well we are sick because we tried to call in but they denied us. Anyways Nat ends up wondering where we are because she came back from a mission and sees that their are utensils and tupperware around and medication bottles and just in general clues that we weren’t feeling well, so she goes to find us because she wants to see us and make sure we’re fine. Only to walk in on one of our managers yelling at us (in a public area) because we were slacking off at “our job” (a task that they told us to do for them but it’s not in our job description) when we were simply putting our head in our hands for a few minutes because we didn’t feel well. Anyways Nat swoops in, saves the day, and the manager miraculously gets fired, and we somehow have a better job.

If you write this thank you :) and if you don’t it’s fine

Too Good To Me

〚 Notes - Hey anon! God, let's not talk about how long this was sitting in my inbox. I wrote this while rewatching supergirl so I may start getting some of my old Alex requests done soon! :D 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Your boss wont let you take a sick day from work. Natasha isn't going to be happy when she finds out. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1620 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“Sorry Y/N, there’s nothing we can do. You’re just going have to suck it up and get yourself into work I’m afraid. We can’t afford any missing staff.” 

“But I-“ Your hoarse objection was rudely cut off by the call clicking off. You stared at your phone in disbelief, a sinking feeling of dread settling in your stomach. The fever was making you lightheaded, and every muscle in your body ached, but you had no choice. You had to go to work today. 

It was ridiculous honestly. Your boss knew you were sick, in fact the whole office was slowly coming down with whatever virus had been circulating. But it was coming to the end on the month meaning deadlines were approaching and it seemed meeting targets was more of a priority than employee wellbeing. 

Dragging yourself out of bed felt like an insurmountable task, but you managed to get dressed and somehow make your way to the office - the only thing keeping you upright was several more doses of DayQuil then the recommended standard. Even though it was short the walk from the parking lot to the front door left you breathless, and by the time you sat down at your desk, a cold sweat had broken out across your forehead. 

“Damn, you look awful.” One of your colleagues looked up over their desk at the sound of a series of sneezes you couldn’t quite hold back. They gave you a sympathetic glance and pulled out a packet of tissues and chucked them over. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled, catching the tissues clumsily. You wiped your nose and tried to focus on your computer screen, but the words blurred together, and your head throbbed with each keystroke. 

Meanwhile, Natasha had been having a fairly good day. Her mission had ended significantly earlier than she’d been expecting meaning she’d get to see you sooner. Of course, the two of you always kept in close contact whenever possible when she had to go on missions, but facetime was nowhere near as good as seeing you in person. 

Nat couldn't wait to surprise you. She had picked up some of your favourite takeout and decided to swing by the apartment. However, as soon as she stepped inside, her smile faded. 

The place was a mess. Not just a few stray cups or plates strewn about. The sink was piled up with unwashed pots. In the living room, the curtains were still pulled closed clouding the room in a dull haze. Meanwhile tissues and cough drop wrappers littered the coffee table amongst several half-empty medicine bottles. 

Nat felt her heart melt a little at the thought of you being sick and alone. Keeping her movements a little quieter now, she crept towards your shared room, pulling open the door carefully. Natasha had expected to see you curled up beneath the blankets, but she frowned and flicked on the light in surprise when all she saw was an empty, unmade bed. 

What the- wait, if you weren’t here then where were you? 

Hunched over, coughing miserably at your desk. That was where. Around midday, your manager approached you with a stack of papers, slamming them in front of you. “I need you to handle these reports. They need to be done by the end of the day,” He ordered, barely sparing a glance to look at you. 

“Sir, I’m really not feeling well,” You began, but he cut you off with a dismissive wave. 

“Not my problem. Just get it done.” He walked off, not willing to waste another moment on you. 

You stared blankly at the stack of papers, the text blurring in and out of focus. As time dragged on, you couldn’t stop yourself drifting in and out of a feverish haze, your productivity taking a swan dive. 

Every so often, you caught your colleagues shooting you concerned glances, but no one dared to speak up. Everyone was aware of the hostile nature of your manager, and no one dared to speak up incase that temper of his was thrown their way. 

Once an hour had passed, you could hardly keep your eyes open. You rested your head in your hands for just a moment, hoping to stave off the waves of dizziness. It was then that your manager reappeared, his face twisted with anger. 

“What do you think you’re doing? Slacking off again?” he barked, drawing the attention of the entire office. Heads turned, and conversations halted as everyone watched the scene unfold. 

“I-I’m just not feeling well,” you stammered, lifting your head to meet his furious gaze. Your vision swam, and you had to blink several times to focus. 

“Excuses! Always excuses with you! If you can’t handle the workload, maybe you should find another job!” 

“Excuse me, what exactly do you think you’re doing?” Natasha’s stern voice cut through the room like a knife. Everyone turned to see her standing in the centre of the room, her posture radiating quiet fury. 

“Scolding an incompetent employee,” Your manager blinked, momentarily taken aback. “And just who do you think you are?” 

“Natasha Romanoff.” She kept a quick pace as she walked towards him, her eyes narrowing, “The Black Widow, Superhero, Avenger and Wife.” 

Your manager's face drained of colour as Natasha's words sank in. He opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out. The entire office watched in stunned silence as she closed the distance between them. 

Nat’s voice remained cold and steady. "If you have a problem with my spouse, you'll answer to me." She turned her attention to you when you ducked into your elbow was a stifled sneeze. 

“Bless you sweetheart,” She murmured softly, swiping a tissue from a box on a nearby desk and handing it to you, “Come on, get your things, we’re going home.” 

You stood shakily, relieved and grateful, but still a bit dazed at how Nat could even be here. The redhead wrapped an arm around your waist, steadying you as you stumbled. "Lean on me baby," She murmured gently. 

Nobody else said a word as the two of you made your way out the building. Once outside the fresh air hit your face, and you took a deep breath, feeling slightly more grounded. Natasha led you to her car, helping you into the passenger seat before getting in herself. 

"Thank you," You murmured, leaning back against the headrest before curling into your side with a harsh cough. 

"Don't mention it sweetheart,” She replied as starting the engine, but you didn’t miss the way her brow crinkled as at the sound of you, “I'm sorry your boss is such a dick. How are you feeling?” 

"Terrible," You mumbled, closing your eyes as you let your head rest against the cool glass window, “I’ve had a fever all day…. But you- you’re meant to be on a mission-“ Your voice was hoarse and cracked as you spoke. 

“I’m not surprised,” Nat raised a hand to your forehead before gently cupping your cheek, “And I finished my mission early, I swung by the apartment and well, you can guess the rest.” She kept one hand on the wheel and the other lightly resting on your knee as she drove. 

The rest of the drive was fairly quiet, Nat didn’t want to force you to talk, and it was obvious from the way your head kept periodically bobbing forward that you were exhausted.  

By the time she’d pulled up to the parking lot, you had dozed off against the window, small stuffy snores letting her know you were out for the count. Of course, it would’ve been easier to wake you, but she just didn’t have the heart. Instead, Nat carefully made her way to the passenger door, unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you safely up into her arms. 

Trying her best to jostle you, Natasha carried you up towards the apartment, opening the door with ease and stepping inside. “Mm?” You gave a groggy mumble as you slowly blinked awake. 

“Shh, we’re home sweetheart.” Nat soothed you quietly, keeping her arm around your waist as she lowered you to be standing up by yourself. 

Your eyes slowly adjusted to the light in the room, and you made an audibly confused noise as you took in the surroundings. The place was spotless. The pots from earlier washed and stacked away. The stacks of tissues and wrappers had been thrown in the trash, the whole apartment looked fresh and clean - nothing compared to the absolute mess it had been several hours ago. 

“You cleaned? You didn’t have to-“ You began but 

Natasha cut you off with a gentle smile, her fingers brushing a stray hair from your forehead. “I wanted to,” she said softly. “You’ve been working hard and dealing with that jerk of a boss while feeling awful. You deserve to come home to a clean space.” 

You leaned into her touch, feeling a wave of gratitude and relief. "Thank you," You murmured again, your voice still raspy as you sniffled quietly. 

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” Nat led you to the bedroom, her arm still securely around your waist. She helped you sit down on the edge of the bed, then knelt to untie your shoes, “Now you best believe I’ll have your manager fired for how he behaved earlier.” 

“You’re too good to me,” You murmured, watching her with tired eyes as you tried to hold back a yawn. 

“You’re my world Y/N,” she replied simply, slipping off your shoes and guiding you to lie down. She pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in with care. “Now get some rest, you need it.” 

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[daylighteclipsed]

Your KH Enchanted posts are driving me INSANE! I've never thought about the connection before but like, Enchanted is literally about a cartoon character going to the real world and finding out that her designated "perfect" love interest wasn't actually the one for her despite the fact that he should be. And then cut to SORA WAKING UP IN QUADRATUM AND RIKU THERE LOOKING FOR HIM like... it's all coming together.

YES!!!! There are so many parallels. In Sora’s dreams, the way he and Riku wake up in this huge city at night with so many lights and signs and skyscrapers… it’s so much like Giselle pulling herself up into the center of Times Square. The area Sora’s in especially, Scramble Crossing, brings to mind Times Square.

Enchanted is about a fictional character becoming real. Giselle’s from a simple, “perfect,” fairytale world. She’s designed to be a stereotypical Disney princess, and she’s a trope more than a person until she ends up in the real world, where she’s quickly challenged by the real world’s imperfections and complexities, embodied especially in Robert and through her relationship with him.

I’ve talked before about how Kingdom Hearts features fictional characters waking up and coming to life, deviating from the script when they’re not really “supposed” to and becoming real. Like Giselle, Sora starts out as a pretty stereotypical trope — the hero — but over the course of his journey grows further away from that. He’s challenged and he changes, and a lot of that is embodied through his relationship with Riku, as Riku represents change and complexity, especially in the context of growing up.

There’s a lot of parallels in the dynamics between Giselle/Robert and Sora/Riku. They’re complementary opposites, and they learn from each other. Giselle inspires Robert to believe in the messages fairytales champion about kindness, the power of love, dreams coming true, and happy endings. Sora inspires Riku to follow his heart and open his heart to others. Robert helps Giselle understand that real life is not as simple as a fairytale. Riku helps Sora see and understand the nuances in their world and in each other.

Real people are complicated, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Giselle’s thrilled, for example, the first time she feels really, truly angry. Robert makes her feel things she’s never felt before, messy things that make her feel alive, that make it easier for her to understand him and grow closer to him. KH emphasizes that experiencing grief, sadness, anger, etc. allows us to connect with others deeper, whether we’re leaning on loved ones for support or trying to understand a stranger. Pain is a necessary part of having a heart, of being alive.

Also, these scenes are literally the same. Giselle and Sora even both smile in their sleep.

Giselle/Robert and Sora/Riku’s relationships develop significantly over the course of their stories. In comparison to Giselle/Edward and Sora/Kairi, which rely on trope expectations instead of character development/actual relationship building. Giselle hardly interacts with Edward. But he’s a prince, he resembles the man of her dreams, he saves her from falling, and she can finish his duet. Surely it’s true love! I’ve already compared sharing the paopu fruit with singing the duet. Kairi is also a princess. She saves Sora from falling to darkness in KH1. And it’s pretty and perfect and Disney, with him reappearing in her arms, gently pulling away, quietly thanking her with sparkles all around them. Just like how Edward catches Giselle right in his lap, perfectly in his arms, with the tree branches forming a heart behind them.

Compare that to later in DDD after Riku saves Sora from falling to darkness and Sora thanks him… and when Robert catches Giselle from falling off a billboard. It’s the same thing, but the moments are not pretty and perfect.

Giselle takes Robert to the hard ground, with a chorus of yelps and ouches as she nearly breaks his wrists. Riku is almost bowled over by Sora’s hug, and Sora holds him tightly, loudly exclaiming his relief, reluctant to let Riku go. But the lack of “Disney fairytale perfection,” I guess, in these scenes kind of makes them better, right? Robert is willing to get really hurt trying to catch Giselle. Sora is so happy to see Riku he can’t contain his emotions. Near the end of Enchanted, we see this again, except Giselle is the one catching Robert. And it’s still very clumsy and rough — he takes her down with him. It’s not perfect, but it’s real.

That’s the biggest difference between Giselle’s relationships with Edward and Robert, and Sora’s relationships with Kairi and Riku. In both surface dynamics and appearance, one is a pretty idea. A perfect, soft, simple fantasy that doesn’t exist, that can’t exist in reality beyond little boys and girls playing Prince and Princess. And the other is grounded in reality, with all the good and bad, the joy and heartbreak, laughter and tears, that entails. Being human is hard. But there is something magical about finding someone you can be human with.

Giselle mistakes Edward for the true love she’s been dreaming of. He’s got the blue eyes and the dark hair, and he catches her from falling. And it reminds me a lot of Sora mistaking Kairi for his light in the darkness in KH3.

It’s reasonable why Giselle and Sora would assume this… But Robert also catches Giselle from falling. He also has blue eyes and dark hair. Later, he dresses exactly like Giselle’s dream prince at the ball, and he even dances with her like in her dreams. In KH3, Riku sacrifices himself in an act of true love for Sora, and we see the light in the tunnel respond when Sora calls out Riku’s name. There’s a number of visual parallels from Sora’s dream and Dive to the Heart that indicate Riku is Sora’s light. While Giselle realizes the truth, it only seems to click for Sora a moment before he forgets. Giselle also gets a follow up parallel. Sora hasn’t yet.

Another little thing I want to point out — Giselle and Edward have a duet (that she stops singing), but Giselle and Robert have a waltz. They have the love song, and they dance to it. Sora and Riku don’t dance, but we see their hearts dancing to the song they create — a waltz version of Dearly Beloved.

Also Robert/Giselle still get the Disney singing element. It’s just not big and flashy like Giselle and Edward’s duet. Robert quietly sings a few words to her as they dance together… Sora and Riku still get the paopu fruit — it’s the keychain of Dearly Beloved (the Combined Keyblade) — but it’s not obvious like the cave drawing between Sora and Kairi is.

TLDR: I completely agree with you and I think, like Enchanted, KH intentionally plays with Disney tropes and audience expectations in order to subvert them. Like Giselle, Sora discovering his designated “perfect” love interest is not the one for him is part of his journey of awakening. It’s part of him becoming real, and growing up.

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | part two

“first impressions”

part one | honeymoonin’

A/N: well, well, well, fancy that we’re all meeting up here, huh? 🥵 first, I just wanted to give a big thank you to @itsokbbygrl who has been feeding my brain rot all day. I appreciate you so so much and your input is extremely helpful 🥺 I do not have a lot of knowledge on the adult film industry, but I’m eager to dive into it with y’all. We all have our different preferences and tastes when it comes to porn, (if you choose to watch it) but for me personally, I’m into porn that is catered to women. And guess who else is? Joel fuckin’ Miller! I hope these impromptu drabbles give you all the warm, fuzzy, and hornknee feelings. In this household, we support sex workers 💗 we also support healthy communication during sex, safe sex, and sexual liberation for everyone. Thank u also to @strang3lov3 for the title 🤍

~word count: 5.0k~

Summary: it’s your first time meeting Joel Miller, your new adult film partner

Pairing | pornstar!joel miller x pornstar f!reader (and a sprinkle of pornstar!tommy miller. More to come in later chapters!)

Warnings: 30s reader/40s joel, general discussions of the porn industry, brief discussions of workplace trauma, mild swearing, kissing, slightly inappropriate workplace relationship, boss/employee power dynamic but it’s only lightly explored in this chapter, voyeurism, light smut, f!masturbation, reader has no physical descriptions, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol consumption, +18, minors dni! Let me know if I missed anything!

When you moved back to Austin Texas looking for a fresh start after a rather rocky experience doing unsatisfying pornos as a regular on screen talent for the mega studio, Brazzers, you never expected to rejoin the industry through a professional studio. After being fired, you settled on making solo amateur films in an attempt to pay your bills and make ends meet. The only problem was rent in LA was nowhere near affordable, and the pay was significantly less than you’d been bringing in from the studio. That’s when you made the decision to leave the state of California entirely, looking eastward towards a once-familiar home.

Your roots were in rural Texas, and although your parents ultimately disowned you for joining the adult film industry, you still had a support group of fellow transplants in Austin that had missed you terribly.

The porn industry was always evolving, but with these changes came an influx of new content. You had a decent following for a small time account, but without the promotion budget that came with films produced at larger studios, your homemade solo films were inevitably pushed to the bottom of the pecking order, making it difficult to expand your audience. You thought about quitting entirely and getting an everyday job as a receptionist at some corporate office, until one night you stumbled upon a channel account that was based in Austin. “Miller-Co, Real people, real sex, professionally produced for your pleasure.” Surrounded by unpacked moving boxes on your single, sad, sofa, you poured yourself a tall glass of wine and clicked on the first video that appeared on the channel’s page, its male lead catching your eye immediately and you clicked the video details to find his name.

Joel Miller was big in every possible sense. From his hands, to his biceps, to his strong thighs. His cock was stunning. It wasn’t the longest cock you had ever seen, but it was deliciously thick, a girth that had you salivating immediately. Not only was it big, but the more you watched, the more you learned he sure knew how to use it. Despite Joel’s brooding nature, his attentive care to his partners on screen was something you had never seen before. He was a talker, a praiser and it seemed he only did scenes in positions where he could see his partners face while they came. The studio lighting was softer, inviting, and very, very intimate.

You clicked through more videos. Joel’s apparent brother, Tommy Miller, was also a big talker, but he reminded you more of a sweet frat boy with some serious golden retriever energy. In simple terms, Tommy liked to pound it. His style seemed more physically intense and fun, lighthearted even. He could do more sensual, intimacy based scenes, but that was more Joel’s forte, you gleaned as you continued to consume their content. Tommy’s cock had an inch or so on his brother, but his cock wasn’t as thick. What it lacked it girth it made up for with how it was curved, and you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to hit that spot inside of you that sent you keening.

The more you watched these two brothers in their element, the damper your flimsy panties grew. It had been so long since you had gotten off while watching porn that you weren’t even sure if you could have a successful orgasm from it. Boy, were you wrong.

Your clit was soon overstimulated and pulsing beneath the soft silicon of your vibrator. You tossed the toy to the side and paused the video while you caught your breath for a few minutes, coming down from your high. A sense of post-orgasmic clarity settled in your mind and something was telling you that working for this channel’s studio might end up being your calling. A wonderful, horny twist of fate. Your ticket back into the industry that had left you both emotionally and physically bruised.

You couldn’t help the gleeful giggle that slipped past your lips the further you scrolled down the channel’s main page, looking for information on Miller-Co’s parent studio, and discovered a link at the bottom: Auditions.

You scrambled to update your resumé, and threw together a portfolio of your past work and clicked on the link. You submitted your application and downed the rest of your wine before closing the screen to your laptop with a decompressing sigh.

No one could say that you didn’t try.

On the other side of town Joel Miller was just closing up the studio for the evening to meet Tommy at their usual watering hole for a drink. His phone buzzed, notifying him that he had a new email and while he walked to his truck, he opened the email.

He had been recently looking for a new film partner outside of his current talent pool. Things were going well at his and Tommy’s boutique adult film studio, they were starting to see growth, and that meant making sure there was regularly fresh content for their growing audience.

Despite receiving 100s of applicants a day from his online posting on his studio’s PornHub channel, none of them were quite what Joel was looking for..until he opened up your application. Joel got a sudden overwhelming feeling in his chest that you were exactly the type of on-screen partner he was looking for. He exited out of the email and sent a quick text to Tommy. Hey, I'm gonna be a few minutes late. Got an applicant that I think will be perfect.

After sending the text to his brother, he opened the email once more. Your resumé was brief, and a noticeable frown crossed over his face when he saw that you were ex-Brazzers. When Joel was 18 and fresh to the industry, he worked for Brazzers. Being so green, he hadn’t known what exactly to expect, so he suffered through in the name of independence and regular pay, but he had hated it, and especially hated the way it made him feel. The culture there had led him to never wanting to partake in making that type of porn again. There was no emphasis on the comfort of his female partners, little to no communication between the actors, and Joel ultimately was uncomfortable with following through with the things he was requested to do. Half the time it didn’t even feel good. And what the hell is the point of making porn if both participants aren’t having fun and feeling pleasure?

For this reason, he felt wrong viewing the content that you had made with Brazzers. Given his prior experience, he could only imagine what you had gone through, and he didn’t want to see you that way. His business was solely based around respect, consent, and comfort as a top priority.

He opted to view your solo amateur content instead. You were a natural, and he knew that he could easily make you a star, if that’s what you truly wanted. Joel knew that mixing pleasure with business, in this industry in particular, could end up messy, but he never felt so physically and emotionally attracted to another human being till now.

His fingers worked fast on the screen as he responded to the email.

Hello,

It’s after working hours for me, but I just went over your application. You’re a natural, and I would be extremely interested in meeting for an official audition. Here is the address to the studio, and my personal work number.

I am off tomorrow, but if you are interested, I can go ahead and schedule a meeting for noon?

Looking forward to hearing from you,

Joel Miller.

He receives an email response from you five minutes later just when he starts the engine of his truck.

Hello Joel,

I would absolutely be interested in coming in for an official audition tomorrow. Noon works for me as well.

See you then!

He lets out a sigh of relief at your response and despite his goal to remain professional, he can’t help the flush that rises to his cheeks at the thought of filming with you. He sends a calendar invite to your email address with the meeting time of noon tomorrow. He tosses his phone into the cup holder and finally drives to the bar.

“She’s ex-Brazzers. Moved all the way from LA just like you and me.” Joel discusses with Tommy over a beer. He takes a sip from the rim and slides his phone across the table to the opposite end of the booth where Tommy is sitting.

“And she’s only been doing solo amateur content as of late?”

“Yeah, she’s only got a few videos up, but it sounds like she’s ready to dip her toe back into the industry. She’s a natural, Tommy. Real captivatin’ on camera.”

Tommy glances down at your application and lightly taps out a bit of ash from his cigarette in the ashtray resting near his elbow. “That so? Well, guess I’m just gonna have to see for myself jus’ how captivatin’ she is.” He looked over at his brother with a knowing grin and pulled out his earbuds from his jacket pocket and slipped them in.

Joel intently observes his brother watching one of your solo films and when he sees Tommy reach down to adjust himself, he couldn’t help but grin.

Tommy’s cheeks have a bright flush to them as he hits pause on the video, taking out one of the earbuds and makes direct eye contact with his brother. “Holy fuck, she’s gorgeous. Those eyes? Brother, I feel like I was being sucked into the screen! God, and her little whimpers? The way they kept gettin’ higher and higher—” Tommy said animatedly.

Joel feels a twinge of jealousy zip up his spine like he was shocked. Tommy’s never been shy, and neither has Joel, but he’s already feeling protective over you and he hasn’t even met you yet. “Yeah, she is a thing of beauty, ain’t she? I don’t know what it is about her, but I love her energy.” Joel comments thoughtfully.

Tommy, being the horndog that he is, can't help but look back down at the screen and the part where the video has paused. Your thighs are spread wide, fingers playing with your clit, teasing yourself while making occasional direct eye contact with the camera. “And god, that pussy? Y’ever see somethin’ so pretty? Bet she tastes like fuckin’ honey.” Tommy drawls.

“Tommy.” Joel snaps his fingers in front of his face in a quick motion. “Don’t go gettin’ too excited now. I’m the one meetin’ with her.” Joel gently reminds him.

“Well, I can see why ya like her so much already, Joel.” He winks and slides the phone back in his direction. “Don’t go gettin’ your panties in a twist. I think just based on this single video, she’s gonna be a good fit. On a serious note, I hope that Brazzers didn’t fuck her up too much.” He reaches for his beer and takes a sip.

“It’s her energy man, it’s infectious. She seems so gentle, soft, but you can tell that she knows exactly what she wants just by looking into her eyes alone.” Joel said rather dreamily.

“Y’gonna give ‘er the ole Joel Miller razzle dazzle then?” Tommy wiggled his eyebrows playfully with a chuckle.

Joel rolled his eyes and flipped him off before taking another sip of his beer. “All depends on her comfort level during our first interaction. I want her to know that she gets to call all the shots.”

Tommy tips his beer towards Joel in a mock salute. “And yet they say chivalry is dead.”

At first you wonder if Miller-Co is just another too good to be true scam and Joel had played you, providing you with the wrong address on purpose. Maybe this was a sign for you to never try studio work in the adult film industry again. You were standing outside of a hardware store, triple checking the address while simultaneously looking up at the sign: Miller-Co

Joel is sitting behind his desk when he sees you teetering around outside. He checks the time on his watch—quarter to noon—and smiles. He’s a punctual person himself and always had this philosophy of showing up earlier than planned out of respect for everyone’s valuable time.

He gets up from his desk and walks towards the door just as you’re turning on your heel to walk away.

The door swings open behind you with a sweet chime, and then you hear the raspy timbre of his voice, his smooth southern accent that already has you feeling weak in the knees.

“Are you my 12 o’clock?” He grins a boyish grin that oozes a level of natural confidence and charm that men dream of possessing.

“Oh.” You laugh and fiddle with the strap on your purse. “I totally thought I had the wrong place for a second there.”

“Sorry ‘bout the confusion, darlin.’ Folks ‘round these parts can be…sensitive to what we’re doing here. Gotta be sure they ain’t have a clue what they’re walkin’ by, be discreet, y’know?” He holds the door open with his shoulder effortlessly, and you get a good look at his handsome features. Joel Miller is tall, well-groomed, and there’s something immediately comforting about him. You can’t quite put your finger on what that thing is, but it might have to do with the selfless energy that radiates from the depths of his soft, espresso colored eyes. Or maybe it’s the endearing heart-shaped patches in his gray speckled beard.

“Oh, thank god!” You laugh again, hoping he didn’t notice your staring, and he chuckles. Something flickers in your eyes that Joel registers as unabashed curiosity. He clocks the slight hitch of your breath, your pupils dilating.

“I take it you’re probably used to dingy warehouses, unkempt garages, and the occasional sketchy office building?” Joel quips. He slips one of his hands into the faded pocket of his denim jeans.

“Yeah, how did you know?” You retort with false sarcasm and a small smile.

He shrugs his shoulders. “Lucky guess?”

“Well, you didn’t not hit the nail on the head, Mr. Miller.”

You swear you see him blush, the tops of his cheeks turning a flushed pink color. “Oh, please, call me Joel, darlin’. Mr. Miller makes me feel so..old.” He laughs and subtly gestures to the open door. “And hope ya don’t mind me sayin’ this, but ain’t you jus’ the sweetest n’ prettiest thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of layin’ my eyes on.” He winks. “Shall we?”

“Oh, please, you aren’t old at all, Joel,” you brush away his self deprecation as his compliment leaves you feeling flustered, the heat beginning to rise to your cheeks. “So, your videos weren’t lying then? You really are a sweet talker?” You flirt back.

“Some days I feel like I am, got a bad back and ‘a that. And, oh, I am quite the sweet talker, darlin’.” He holds the door open for you as you slip past him, brushing up against the rough denim of his jeans due to his sheer mass taking up most of the entryway.

Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach when your eyes zone in on an all-to familiar black leather couch pressed up against the side of the wall. He notices your immediate discomfort and hesitation and clears his throat alongside you. “We uh—don’t film anythin’ on that, darlin’. It’s there more as a joke than anythin’.”

He sees you visibly let out a sigh of relief as your shoulders relax. You don’t see his face, but his lips are set in a deep frown and he genuinely feels bad. “There’s no leather couches or bright, headache inducin’ lights where I film, darlin’,” he adds softly and steps around you to pull back the chair at his desk.

You’re not even sure what to think or say as he pulls the chair back and you quietly sit down and watch as he sits across from you. “Hey, before we get into talkin’ business, I’m aware that you worked for Brazzers at one point, saw it on the application you submitted, and I jus’ wanted to let you know that me sayin’ ‘lucky guess’ back there was to ease your nerves. I understand what it’s like coming from that world, could tell that you were feelin’ a bit apprehensive, and I didn’t wanna jump right on into discussing your portfolio out in the open, y’know?” He held steady eye contact with you which was something that you normally would be intimidated by, but Joel wasn’t trying to make you feel small, his concern was genuine.

“It’s just been awhile for me since working there, but I appreciate you trying to ease the tension, Joel. I swear I’m not always this jumpy,” you add softly and he smiles.

“S’alright. I understand. I jus’ wanna start off by sayin’ that I want you to be comfortable, darlin’. That’s our first priority. We can film in the studio if you want. Now, personally, I never film here. All feels a bit too sterile for me; got a set up at home to film there. Feels more natural, but if you would rather be here, we can make that work.” He clicks a few buttons on the desktop mouse and pulls up your application so he has it to directly reference.

“Your first priority is that you want me to be comfortable?” The question tumbles past your lips and your pupils are blown wide. In past jobs your comfort was always pushed to the very bottom. It was viewed as insignificant and something that you were told you’d just have to suck up and get over. There was always a limited budget, which meant limited time, which meant little care given to anything other than hard and fast, turn and burn shoot days. And the studio executives cared about little except increasing profits year over year, so time and time again, you’d endured a lack of connection with your scene partners and set crew alike, never more than a quick direction thrown your way. No, comfortable was a far cry from what you were used to.

He’s not taken aback by your response at all. It’s something that he’s all-too familiar with, unfortunately. “Of course, darlin’. That’s the key to makin’ good porn, ain’t it? Both parties gotta be comfortable, otherwise the audience won’t feel connected to what they’re viewin’. All sex sells, but intimacy sells more.”

“I’m just not used to this kind of treatment, Joel. I honestly didn’t even believe that it existed in the adult film industry. The whole notion of comfort above all is just…new for me.”

“I know it is, darlin’,” Joel takes a breath before continuing, “I’m ex-Brazzers, too. Started there when I was 18, and left on my 30th birthday.” This was a piece of Joel’s past that was especially private, it came with baggage he still wasn’t entirely ready to unpack, and yet sharing this with you felt comforting for him.

“Oh my god, did they fire you too?” You lean forward in your chair feeling shocked that someone else in the industry shared the same awful experience as you did.

Joel’s heart shatters when he learns that you were fired. It makes him angry for you and the other women in the industry that were often released from their contracts for frivolous reasons. How could they let someone like you go? You have all the potential in the world with real, raw, talent, and on top of that, you were an absolute knockout. Those motherfuckers had a goldmine with you, and yet they couldn’t see what Joel sees.

“No, darlin’,” he frowns, “they didn’t. My brother and I made the decision to quit on our own. We stayed in LA for awhile with some old costars and made some amateur films before we moved back home to Austin, and started our own studio. I’ve strived to make porn that is catered to women. It’s a market that’s been largely untapped, and I’m lookin’ to shift the industry by showing how profitable it is,” he explains honestly. “And folks deserve to see real sex full of connection and intimacy and even sometimes some bloopers,” he chuckles. “It’s something that I’m incredibly passionate about, and that’s why it’s my utmost priority to make sure that you are respected and feel comfortable.”

You shrink in on yourself when the wave of sudden emotions hit and you don’t even realize your crying till Joel is getting up in a haste with a few tissues in his hand. His eyes are laced with concern as he crouches in front of you. “Hey, I’m sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean t’make ya cry. I jus’—know how harmful the industry can be, and ‘m tryin’ to build a safe space within it.”

Fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks as you try to laugh through the tears. You feel pathetic for breaking down in front of this man who you have only just met. He must think you’re a lost cause in the industry if you can’t even hold yourself together for more than five minutes. You sniffle as he gently brings the tissue upwards towards your face and gently brushes away your tears. “I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t mean to turn into this blubbering fuckin’ mess.”

“Hey, ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, darlin’,” he coos. “Maybe we wanna get outta here for some fresh air? If you’d like? Know a nice quiet coffee shop jus’ down the street. How do you feel about that?”

You look at him through wet lashes and parted lips when you slowly nod. “Uh—yeah. That would..be great. I’m just not exactly comfortable in this environment,” you murmur.

“I understand. No hard feelin’s taken or anythin’. Would you like some help gettin’ up?” He offers you his freehand.

“You’re not..upset?” You question softly and grasp his hand in your palm as he gently helps you up from the chair. His palm is warm against yours and massive in size.

“Upset? No, not at all. I meant it when I said that your comfort is a priority, darlin.’” He affirms.

After you’ve composed yourself a bit, you let Joel lead the way to the quiet coffee shop down the street. He holds the door open for you and lets you pick a secluded table in the back. When you offer to pay for the coffees, he interjects with a small grin and shakes his head. “S’on me, darlin’. G’on now and make yourself comfy,” he nudges you gently towards the table.

It’s a depressing thought to have, but you think about how no man has ever treated you with the kindness and respect that Joel Miller has thus far. It’s the bare minimum, but you appreciate him for it deeply.

He returns with two lattes and places them on the table before taking a seat across from you. “Y’jus’ let me know when and if you wanna continue the conversation, alright? There’s no rush. I ain’t got anywhere else to be.”

You grasp the mug between your palms and let the warm steam wafting from the mug kiss your skin as you look over at him. “Well, I figured it would be okay with me to share with you a list of things I’m not comfortable with?” You lean over the side of the chair and reach into your purse to pull out a folded up piece of paper that you drafted up after submitting the application last night.

He nods and takes a sip of his latte. “Of course that’s okay for you to do. I’ve got a form for you to sign back at the studio that includes a section disclosing your limitations and your personal comforts. We like to keep it on file so we can prepare everyone before shoot day, that way there ain’t any accidental crossed boundaries.” He reaches across the table and gently takes the paper from you.

Despite everything Joel has told you thus far, you’re afraid that he’ll end up being judgemental based on your list. It’s pretty much everything that mainstream porn runs on: bondage, punishment, gang bangs, overstimulation, and anal to name a few. You’re already thinking of getting up from the table, and protecting what’s left of your ego when he sets the paper down, reaches for your hand, gently picks it up and kisses the back of it while looking into your eyes. “This is it? We can absolutely work with this, darlin’. Don’t you worry none,” he reassures you.

His lips against your skin are like two plush pillows. Soft, silky and it’s hard to not imagine what those lips would feel like pressed against either of your own. You expected shame, and instead were greeted with the complete opposite. He validated you, and that alone was making your head spin like a ferris wheel.

“I know you ain’t have any pleasant experiences in the industry, and that’s a damn shame. But I can promise you that you won’t have to worry about none of that with me. Okay, darlin’? Sweet girl, I’m gonna be honest with ya because that’s jus’ the kind of man I am. Y’got some serious talent that I think has been severely overlooked. I can make you into a real star if that’s what you want. I’m simply jus’ actin’ as a guideway for ya. And between you and me? I love my job, and I hope that maybe I’ll be able to turn those bad experiences you had into somethin’ good.”

Your eyes focus on his lips and their movement with each word that flows past them. Neither of you realize how close you’re leaning over the table till you can practically taste the hazelnut latte lingering on his tongue.

“Joel, I swear I heard every word you just said, and please tell me if I’m being unprofessional given the circumstances, but I really want to kiss you right now,” you breathe.

His brow raises and a dimple pokes through his cheek as a grin tugs across the corner of his lips. He chuckles softly, “Well, lucky for you, it’s totally appropriate given the circumstances. Jus’ one of the many perks of bein’ in this industry, darlin’. Unbridled desire is personally one of my favorite things.” He leans in closer, his tone dropping down to an octave that made you tingle with desire, and admits quietly, just for you, “If we weren’t here in this coffee shop right now, I’d show you just how unbridled my desire can be.”

You gripped the edge of the table for dear life. It took everything in you to not rip that man’s clothes off right then and there. That part of you that had laid so dormant was crackling to life again, and he could see those emotions swirling in your eyes. “Maybe we should get those papers signed so that you can show me if you’re really just all talk?” Your brow quirked upwards, mouth lifting into a flirtatious smirk just as his nose brushed against your own.

“Think you’ve seen enough to me to know that I ain’t bluffin’, darlin’.” His hot breath fans your lips as you reach across the table and rest a hand on his shoulder, the other steadying your balance on the table. Joel lifts his hand to your face and gently guides you by your chin. His lips brush yours, testing the waters while your tongue swipes confidently at his lower lip. He surges forward, hand moving from your chin to cup your face where your jaw meets your neck and deepens the kiss. You unconsciously let a soft moan loose, lost in the feeling, and Joel feels his cock come to life at the sound. It’s a good thing the barista behind the counter is too busy watching a YouTube video to see you and Joel practically gorging on each other's faces.

You can feel him smiling against your mouth before he leaves you with a final press of his lips and pulls back, sitting back in his chair, shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he brings his thumb up to the corner of his lips and wipes away a stray strand of saliva. “Think I’m gonna get a little somethin’ to eat. Y’want anythin’?” He rasps and reaches for his wallet in his pocket.

“Yeah.” You grin and rest your chin in your palms. “Something..sweet.”

A flush rises to his cheeks as he stands up from the chair and discreetly adjusts himself in his jeans and you giggle at the sight. You’d think it was his first rodeo by how quickly he had grown hard from just kissing you. Then again, Joel did say that he loved his job. And if he treated the less significant parts of his job like that, you were more than looking forward to seeing, feeling, him do the other parts of his job he loved, too.

You sat in that coffee shop for hours getting to know one another. It felt like no time had gone by at all, and it was obvious that you both were feeling that spark of an immediate connection blossoming. There was no denial that you and Joel were physically attracted to one another, but you had no idea what doors were now opened because of this first meeting. The chemistry was palpable, electricity ricocheting off the walls, and that unspoken language between one another was apparent.

“Hey, Joel? I think I’m ready to sign those forms now,” you spoke, wading through the building sexual tension.

“Perfect.” He grins. “Let’s go n’get ‘em signed.” He pats your thigh gently.

Once you’re back in the studio, Joel goes over every section of the documents and answers every single one of your questions with direct thoughtfulness and professionalism. You can hear your pulse beating in your ears when you sign the last page, clenching your thighs to abate the need growing between your legs.

“Now, there’s no rush to filmin’ anythin’ right away, okay? We don’t gotta dive head first if you wanna go home and process all of this, I completely understand. But, if you’re interested, I can give you my address and we can—”

“How about you drive me to your place instead?” You coyly interjected with a grin.

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[harrietvane]

So, in Busman’s Homeymoon, Lord Peter buys Harriet Vane a mink cloak worth 950 pounds (according to the Dowager Duchess’ journal entry), but he buys Tallboys for “only” 650 pounds.

Even bearing in mind that real estate really did used to be cheaper, do you understand how that is possible? Or how to find out more about relative purchasing power? I used an online calculator website which gave me some figures, but it still seems insane that one could buy an entire Elizabethan farmhouse for 2/3 the price of a garment! Very curious to learn from others who understand this better than I do.

Ah, I see my esteemed colleague @oldshrewsburyian has also had some interesting thoughts on this, so I'll link that here as well before I begin.

So, it's a legitmate question, and there's no catch-all simple answer (in the gotcha sense of 'why didn't i know that bit of cultural Truth'), but there are mitigating factors that take it from a ridiculous price comparison, to merely outlandish. Even taking into account that the coat is quoted in guineas, not pounds, and that PW says the bank valued Talboys at £800 via a mortgage (the paid price was a discount, for paying in cash quickly, which is Plot Relevant), it gets us to roughly the same place, value-wise. Or shall we say PRICE-wise, rather than value, as I'll get into below. There's several factors at play here - they mainly relate to class, and spending power:

-The house is Not That Great, in terms of the kind of property that PW would usually be buying. I mean it is still a large-ish house, big enough to have 2 adults and small children in, but it's not what would be on his radar normally. The only reason they know about it, it that it's near a place where HARRIET grew up as a child. It's not getting any high marks in particular Beauty, Convenience, or Quality - the main reason HV's drawn to it is sentiment, rather than anything else. They both know that they will have to significantly add to it, and alter it, in order for it to be a comfortable home. That would usually be out-of-budget for someone in Harriet's position, who would expect to buy something that meets her needs 'as-is'. Most people looking at buying that house would be Harriets not Peters, so it might be a tough sell.

-The house has no power, and limited plumbing: There's dark references to DRAINS by the dowager duchess, it's entirely possible that this house has no modern plumbing at all - they make the comparison that the huge palace the Wimseys grew up in wasn't plumbed until recently, but then again they do have about 800 servants, whereas Talboys is just a regular house: they will have Bunter alone (at first), with an assist from Mrs Ruddle. There's mention of "a cistern" with some basic valves, but the scullery is mentioned as having a copper, from which hot water is "scooped into a large bath-can" - a copper being, simply, a large metal basin over a fire, in effect. No running hot water, maybe no flushable loos - it's a factor. They also talk specifially about having to electrify Talboys themselves - it's candles and lamps until then. It's fancy camping. By the mid-1930s, a lot of middle-class buyers would expect a little more convenience in both water and wiring, unless they had significant support staff, which Talboys would not be expected to house.

-There's probably no farm! It's a farm house - not a wider land purchase. People like PW's brother the Duke are wealthy primarily because they own land, not because of the big palace they have (which eats money, rather than generates it). The land is what gives them spending power, because other people are paying them rent to live on it, farm on it, or both. PW's own personal 'younger sibling' wealth is also mentioned somewhere to be primarily in real estate (assumed to be in London) - sad to say: he's a landlord, and that's why he's rich. Talboys, on the other hand, as a purchase, would not, in almost any way, be expected to generate revenue through either farming, agriculture, or charging rent. Until they invent house flipping in 80 years, or until the motorway goes through in 40 years, there's not much expectation that Talboys would increase all that much in value.

-Lastly, there's a massive disparity in what The Market Will Bear when we compare a basic residence vs a luxury item (like a mink coat) in the mid-1930s. This is not particular to that time, though. Like any first-year economics student will tell you, the price of something is not it's intrinsic value, it's what someone is WILLING to pay for it. If someone is willing to pay such a price, that's the price it will be. So, we're not comapring Objects, we're comparing Buyers: the the main purchasers of a slightly run-down farmhouse located nowhere special are Harriets, and main purchasers of mink coats are Peters. Talboys is priced for Harriets. The mink coat is priced for Peters.

Compare for example, a contemporary parallel: the Hermes Birkin bag. It's a leather handbag with a starting retail price of about USD 11,400. Just for the bag. Then, you have fancier versions of the fancy bag, eg wikipedia tells me one version sold at auction for USD 380,000 in Hong Kong in 2017. Now, the Harriets of today are not buying a Hermes Birkin handbag, but they are probably trying to buy slightly run-down houses outside urban centers for (one hopes) slightly less than 380k. The Wimseys of the worlds are clearly buying Birkin bags. In that way, it's actually pretty easy to get to a place where Person A might buy a single luxury item for X pounds, and Person B might buy a whole residence for X pounds, and neither feel like they'd done something insane. The key here is in a Wimsey/Vane marriage, they run up against this concept immediately, and repeatedly.

There's a good reason the first epistolary section of the novel is almost entirely taken up with money chat - the ring, the purchase of shirts from Burlington Arcade, the marriage settlement, the gift from the bride to the groom, the mink coat, the bitchy exchange between Helen and Harriet about HV being allowed "six free copies of her book" to distribute. These people come from 2 fundamentally different experiences of the world. They might have gotten engaged using the word 'Magistra', specifically to emphasise their fundamental equality (in the context of learning and the mind, to begin with), but it can't be denied: there's gaps that need to be bridged. They both know parts of their married life will be spent in attempting to do that, hopefully to their mutual satisfaction. Mention of a mink coat for 950 guineas is a nice, neat shorthand for illustrating what's still at play between them here.

[the-s1lly-corner]

could I request creepypasta x reader who can take their head off

Various crps x reader who can take their head off

pretending that i didnt tear up the roof of my mouth while eating my dinner shhhshhhh ignoring that my bottom front teeth rest on the roof of my mouth right where its all torn up thus making me hyperaware and by extension making me clench and grind subconsciously characters: jeff the killer, laughing jack, ticci toby, eyeless jack notes: reader is gn, reader isnt really human but theyre written to look human, focusing on first reactions cws: none unless you found taking ones head off as body horror? does it count? im not sure tbh.. mentions of anatomy and stuff in ejs part.. canon typical violence

LAUGHING JACK

finds it so cool, entertaining even... i like to think that he has "clown physics" to him, but im unsure if being able to dethatch limbs would be one... if he cant take his own head off hes going to be a tad bit jealous of you

sometimes yoinks your head and holds it up to his height so you can "see the world from his perspective", this is more likely if youre significantly shorter than him

if you allow it hes going to juggle your head or even "go bowling" with it... you... may get dizzy though, so agree with caution

if your head is loose and has a habit of falling off hes going to take it as a win if it falls as you laugh at one of his jokes

EYELESS JACK

honestly? not all that phased by your little party trick, at least hes not grossed out by the clear view of your necks insides- hes seen those plenty of times... both in the form of images as well as in person when hes needed to silence someone

that said looking at in tact neat remains is different than seeing it all messed up or in a diagram, so if you dont mind he would like to take a look at least once... totally not making notes for future reference

not many questions otherwise, surprisingly... i mean hes a man eating demon of sorts who mostly gets nutrients from eating the organs of humans- he doesnt have much place to ask you what you are exactly or what caused this sort of thing to happen

doesnt ask you to show off your trick, finds no interest in asking you to take your head off and goof off with it unlike some of the others

TICCI TOBY

oh! thats his partner taking off their head.... OH! THATS HIS PARTNER TAKING OFF THEIR HEAD- he... genuinely needs a second to process what hes looking at because it catches him so off guard, you only told him you had a party trick to show him

lots of questions, main one being how and why- were you not a living human this whole time? a little betrayed that you didnt tell him sooner, actually- and even if you did, why didnt you show him this sooner?

traces his fingers along your neck where it separates, after you put your head back on- even more impressed if theres no mark left behind

like jeff, hes going to try to get you to play some jokes on people- though its likely hes going to pull them on masky and/or hoodie

sometimes carries your head around with him while hes working- ignore how morbid of a sight thatd be..! he just wants some company without making it too obvious!

JEFF THE KILLER

stares wide eyed for a few seconds... ignoring that he doesnt have his eye lids anymore so hes always looking at you wide eyed-- thinks he may have actually lost it for a second before cracking up

probably one of the last things hes expected you to do but hey, he thinks its pretty wicked!

oh hes definitely going to try to get you to use your quirk to scare some unsuspecting people who are walking around- perhaps do it late at night for some added effect? and if they lash out he can always swoop in and come to your aid

will push your head off of your neck if youre being a smartass or generally lightly getting onto his nerves- not a hard push, but enough to knock your head loose

[zombiecheri]

A Girl And A Samurai

Pairing: Mizu x Fem!reader

Tags: mizu kills a man, you get to know her. there's nothing more in first chapter at least

A/N: haven't written anything in ages so excuse me if there are some errors. had to get this out of my system. next chapter will be more spicy!

Chapter 1

"you drown not by falling into a river, but by staying submerged in it" - Paulo Coelho

It wasn't supposed to happen like that. The man, your father entrusted to accompany you back to the village, simply haven't showed up and you sat in the small inn pondering what to do next. It was foolish to even consider going back alone. With autumn season nearing it's end, cold winter air was creeping from the north rattling against the old wooden walls of the inn. Not to talk about groups of men wandering around and waiting for an opportunity to rob, rape and kill women on the road.

road, which would take at least a week.

you were brave and reckless but far from stupid, you wouldn't even last 3 days on the road. but you had to.

had to

With winter nearing, you couldn't get stuck in an inn where you hardly knew anyone with no food and barely any money left. Waiting for your family to send another person to accompany you back would also take too long. It seemed like an impossible situation and you were about to start panicking until a solution presented itself.

Big hat. That was the first thing you noticed about the stranger. Then you saw a scabbard that glistened in the morning light and the weird tinted glasses that hid their stare. Accidentally overhearing the conversation between him and the innkeeper got your hopes back up. Coincidentally strange samurai also happened to be headed to your village. It seemed that you haven't run out of luck completely. Convincing the samurai to let you accompany him to the village took a lot of effort and begging on your part but the very next day you both were headed to your home, walking out from an old inn into the road surrounded by fallen leaves.

The air was crisp and fresh brushing against your skin and twirling colourful leaves around you. Samurai was quiet but you didn't mind the silence that much. You noticed even back in the inn that he didn't like to waste time on small talk so you silently followed him on the road enjoying the scenery around you.

The first night you spent out in the woods surrounded by trees looming around you, the temperature dropping significantly but thankfully samurai made a fire so the cold late autumn weather didn't bother you much. Both of you ate quietly and you settled to sleep near fire while samurai took watch. The fire cast shadows that swirled with each flicker. It was hard to fall asleep when you could feel his gaze on the back of your head and the anxiousness seeped into your skin sending warn signals to your mind about the whole situation. You barely knew the stranger and while he agreed to let you tag along with him, you were too quick to trust him. Who knew what he'd do? You two were completely alone in woods. Even if you wanted you couldn't shout for help because there wasn't a soul who could hear you.

It seemed that while your mind was racing, your body was having other problems and soon exhaustion took over making you fall into a troubled slumber. It didn't last long. You awoke with a jolt, clutching your hand against your chest, nightmare slowly fading away as you took in your surroundings eyes searching for a tall form of a samurai except he was nowhere to be seen. Panic seeped into your skin and settled heavily in your stomach. You glanced around frantically searching for him, the fire long gone, late autumn chill creeping up and leaving goosebumps on your skin.

He left you. That was your first thought and in the blind panic you stood up, walking in a random direction hoping to catch up to him. You wouldn't survive alone in woods. At least it seemed that your belongings were not touched at all but what good it would do if you ended up dying anyways?

You walked around blindly for a while until you heard a strange sound and slowly, with careful steps went to the direction where you heard it from, light coming down from above helping you lead the way. It appeared there was a small river deep into the woods, you could hear the sound of water rushing down disappearing in the darkness down the way where faint light from the moon couldn't reach it. That's when you noticed the samurai. It appeared that your panic was short-lived and suddenly you felt foolish. He didn't abandon you, he just simply cleaned himself in the water while you were sleeping. He was dressing up when your eyes zeroed in on his chest. Rather, on a strange fabric covering the area. bindings? why would a man need bindings around his chest you wondered before realization hit you and you let out a quiet gasp, taking slow steps backwards.

He, or rather, she was on you before you even managed to blink. The tip of the sword brushed against your neck and you finally let out a loud gasp falling on the cold ground scrambling on your feet to get away from the samurai. She pulled her sword away, grabbing your kimono and bringing her face closer until you could feel her cold breath against your skin. Eyes, icy like the river, bore into you seemingly trying to pierce you with the gaze alone and all you could do was stare back at her gaping like a fish out of water.

If looks could kill

Another shiver took a hold of your body and then you heard it, her voice, almost as cold and deadly as her eyes, whispering against your ear,

"If you tell anyone about this I will kill you"

And brave and reckless you were, but mindless you were not for you believed her every word and managed a tiny, shaky nod not trusting your voice to speak. She let go of you then, dropping you unceremoniously on the ground and going back to finish dressing up as you sat there wondering if luck was at your side or you were truly foolish to believe so.

Next morning you both continued your walk again. You quietly gathered your supplies after eating and followed her on the road not missing the stare which now you knew hid eyes colour of a chilly winter sky. The silence once welcoming now hung in the air threatening to deafen you. Tension so thick you could almost taste it on your tongue. Walk was short lived because not even an hour in, your luck decided to test you again.

Three men, seemingly out of nowhere appeared right in front of you two their gazes dark, their eyes even darker and you cursed in your head noticing their ugly stares fixed on your body. Your samurai just stood there staring down at them without saying a word before slowly tilting her head to the side and whispering for only you to hear,

"stand back"

You did as you were told and watched as the three men laughed at your companion.

"You think you can take us?" Said one of them, voice raspy filled with amusement and mockery as he took out the small blade and dangled it in front of the samurai while other two laughed. "Give us the girl and maybe we'll let you walk away"

You heard it then. A faint chuckle, melodic and deep so unlike the laugh coming out of awful men in front of you and a part of you, mistrustful and weak and so, so foolish, wondered if she'd actually give you to them. It seemed that you didn't have to wonder long because she unsheathed the sword and before you even managed to blink, her sword was slicing the hand dangling a rusty blade.

It felt like time slowed down, hand fell on the ground blood oozing out from the wound painting everything red and you felt like you were underwater, your ears filled with cotton. You didn't even notice your shaky legs giving out as you fell on the ground yet again.

It ended as fast at it started and soon one man lay dead on the ground, blood pooling around him, his sliced hand laying next to him clutching that rusty metal as other two were running away with panicked gasps and curses. There wasn't a drop of blood on the samurai as she turned around putting the sword back into the scabbard. She noticed your fallen form and tilted her head an unkind smile appearing on her face as she took slow steps towards you, like an animal stalking it's prey.

"are you scared?" Her voice held a hint of mockery, tone almost bored. You realized then that she expected you to run. To cry. A demon, an onryō wearing a mask of a human with mixed blood and eyes so unlike anything you've ever seen before. She expected you to be scared or disgusted and while you were shocked and maybe scared a little bit, there was a hint of something deep inside you, something that made you walk all those miles away from home, made you brave and made you reckless.

A hint of curiosity.

You were curious about her. A lone samurai, a woman, something completely unheard of, walking around for a purpose you didn't know and killing with such precision and skill that left you speechless. That intrigued you, that pulled you in and made you want to understand, to unravel the mystery that was the woman standing in front of you. So really, how could you help it? How could you stop the curiosity taking over your body and how could you stop the words that stumbled out of your mouth catching both of you by surprise.

"What's your name?"

Such a simple, innocuous question. There was a dead man laying in his own blood and there was a samurai in front of you who killed him in mere seconds and you wanted to know her name?

She let out a laugh then. A real laugh, throwing her head back and wrapping arms around herself all hints of mockery and distrust disappearing from her face. The sound pulled you in, mesmerized you and took you by surprise so sudden you felt foolish. foolish for the way your cheeks warmed and foolish for the way your treacherous heart speed up it's rhythmic beating against your chest.

"It's mizu" was all she said after she calmed down and oh, you were such a foolish girl after all.

The walk afterwards wasn't as unpleasant anymore. Tension hanging in the air disappeared and took the silence with it. For some unknown but quite welcoming reasons she even indulged in small talk with you. You got to know about her purpose and in return she got to know about your life in village.

Mizu. Set on a path towards killing four white men in japan. Mizu, whose blue eyes lost it's icy edge and reminded you more of a warm summer sky instead, of clear ocean - wild, untamed but beautiful and deadly. And you wondered, if you tested your luck once more, could you drown in them or drift above.

[charmtale]

Shameful secrets cause a person to become haunted. She cannot sleep, for a shaming secret is like a cruel barbed wire that catches her across the gut as she tries to run free.

(Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves)

the fact that no one* knew about akio's abuse of anthy is far from the only thing wrong with it, but the inherent shameful secrecy of it was an integral part of her abuse, something that significantly served to isolate anthy from her peers.

it was definitely akio's plan for utena to see anthy and akio at the end of ep. 36. (anthy's hands disappear into her hair = she had no hand in this. + the way the scene lights up like how lights come on at the beginning of a new scene in a play (anthy's previously black silhouette gaining color and features) = it was staged. not to mention her bleak expression) akio thought that utena would just be disgusted by her, and/or feel betrayed, and that would be that. however, he sealed his fate (anthy being able to ditch him) with this action, because utena offered anthy compassion and understanding instead of condemning her.

utena acknowledging anthy's pain as a result of being abused by akio touched anthy more than any of utena's other actions up to that point. while utena says a lot of stuff in that scene about utena's ego and being a prince, anthy only has visible reactions to two of utena's lines until utena is completely done speaking.

"And the night I learned about you and Akio...!"

the camera focuses completely on anthy, nothing else shown, as anthy slightly tilts her head up. there is no dialogue while anthy makes this small movement; anthy is listening intently for what utena will say next, and the show wants us to notice that.

"I thought that you had betrayed me. Even though you were suffering so much...!"

when utena talks about suffering- acknowledging that akio's treatment of anthy caused anthy pain- anthy uncurls her body significantly. a visual indicator of feeling less shame, immediately in that moment.

anthy does not move in reaction to anything else utena says until utena is fully done speaking, when anthy and utena are now shown kinda-holding eachother. utena may or may not know the full impact of her words, but it is clear to the viewers what moved anthy to say:

"It doesn't matter now. Just leave this school. Forget about everything that happened here!"

in anthy's opinion, this has to be the kindest, most honest thing she can say in this moment. utena leaving would ruin akio's plan and anthy would be the obvious reason why (likely leading to punishment), not to mention how anthy would obviously miss utena. the fact anthy said it anyway shows how impactful utena's statement was

it's good to talk about utena's obsessive girlprincing and how it was damaging. it's good that utena acknowledges it herself. but i think the fandom commonly overestimates how much that mattered to anthy, especially in relation to this scene. i feel that people sometimes abbreviate it as 'utena apologized to anthy for her egotistical behavior, and that brought them closer together!' like yes, she did and that was positive and indicative of utena maturing. but i do not think that was the most important aspect here

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Which dorm arc do you think was the best written? I liked the ignihyde arc the most if I have to be honest

This might be unfair to the other books (since most of them have fewer parts/less time for their stories + book 7 isn't even complete yet for me to judge), but I think the writing in book 6 is the strongest (as in, "most interesting" and "most narratively sound") so far. What gives book 6 a massive leg up over other books is that the conflicts addressed in book 6 were foreshadowed WAY in advance through other content like voice lines, vignettes (I believe Ortho's Precision Gear), and events (like Wish Upon a Star). It was sooo satisfying to see all of the payoff (and Idia breaking down)!!

I don't think the other books are bad by any means except for book 2, sorry not sorry Leona, I just feel that 6 had a lot of space to touch on more characters and their development than only the Ignihyde boys; I loved catching up with characters we've already met and seeing how they've grown or changed, even in little ways. Additionally, I personally prefer stories with "high stakes" and family-oriented drama involved in them, so they biases me quite a bit toward book 6. The high stakes and family drama angle is also true of book 7, but again, it's not out in its entirety yet so I'm going to reserve my judgment until it has.

Something that's unique to book 7 (and that I wish previous books did, even if it elongates them significantly) is actually deepening our understanding of every character within the dorm. I would have been so bored if book 7 focused solely on Malleus. I loved getting to learn more about what makes Lilia tick, and seeing how Sebek and Silver develop from their experiences. I feel like I didn't get a significant enough of a look into many of the other boys during the main story campaign... Instead, we're often told about things that happened without truly witnessing it for ourselves. I know, I know, that's the whole point of a visual novel--expecting a lot of reading. I still would have preferred like... more flashbacks and scenes demonstrating what we're being told rather than the dialogue doing it for us. Show me how Riddle's relationship with Chenya and Trey has changed since their childhood! Show me young Jack being inspired by Leona's play and wanting to be in the same team as him! Etc., etc., etc. I could always look to vignettes and event stories for more lore on each character, but those are always portrayed as "AUs", whereas the main story is what is 'canon" so it's sort of sad to see that we never get to look any closer at most of the supporting cast upon that bigger stage.

It’s exciting that we now get to see more of the boys since we’re now dream hopping for book 7; I’m just going to hold my judgment for now since I found the pacing uneven and a little quick for what we’ve seen of Pomefiore so far, especially when compared to the longer Lilia dream segment. Again, I find book 6 stronger in this regard but that could be because its scale is slightly smaller and it has fewer characters to juggle. I guess we’ll have to wait and see how book 7 wraps up—maybe it’ll completely win me over!

[chelseachilly]

so high school

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: you and ben have been friends for years, but you haven't seen him much since you left chelsea for another job opportunity. all it takes is an engagement party, a bit of alcohol and a drinking game to bring the feelings you've been harbouring for years to the surface... warnings: hints of smut, alcohol use word count: 5k

author’s note: this fic has been SUCH a long time coming! it started as an idea from a request i got like a year ago asking for a friends to lovers fic involving spin the bottle, and then i got re-inspired to finish when 'so high school' by taylor swift came out. please note this takes place last summer since that's when i started writing it lol, and hope you enjoy!

-

You didn’t really know what to expect when you arrived at Kai and Sophia’s place, but you figured it would be a somewhat classy evening. 

You’ve had your fair share of wild nights with this group of friends - the night in Porto after the Champions League win comes to mind - but you’re all a little older now and you are celebrating Kai and Sophia’s engagement, after all. You thought it would be a relaxed, grown-up party. 

Evidently, you thought wrong.

Kai is already clearly drunk when he greets you at the door with a massive hug, and you can hear Sophia squeal as she comes running to hug you too.

“Congratulations, you two!” you exclaim, hugging Sophia back. It’s the first time you’ve seen them since the engagement, and you’re over the moon for them. 

“Thank you!” Sophia grins, proudly showing off her ring when she pulls away, beaming at Kai. “Now come on, everyone’s already here and they’re excited to see you!”

You knew you were running a bit late, but you don’t realize how late until you walk into a living room filled with drunk footballers. You know most of them, except for a couple of Kai’s new Arsenal teammates you haven’t had the chance to meet before. Reece is here, Timo, Kepa, even Mason is in town for the night.

And, of course, on the couch next to Mason is Ben, whose face lights up when he sees you.

When you got a job on Chelsea’s media team in 2019, you were pleasantly surprised by how quickly you became friends with many of the players. During your very first week, Mason invited you to a party at his house, and from that point forward you’ve been close with a lot of the boys and their partners. 

They’re now like family to you, regardless of if they’re still playing for Chelsea. Many of the boys have now gone in different directions, and you yourself left the club for an incredible job opportunity at Sky Sports a few months ago, but you wouldn’t miss an important occasion like this one for the world.

Even if that means you have to see the one person who has always made your legs weak and your brain turn to mush. The one you’ve missed significantly more than all the rest of the guys since your departure.

The one that you’re pretty sure you fell for the day he signed for Chelsea and you bumped into him in a hallway at Cobham.

Ben Chilwell. 

“Y/N!” Ben exclaims, jumping up to hug you. As usual, he looks unfairly hot in just a white t-shirt and black shorts. “You’re finally here!”

You sink into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent before the hug is over - which is far too quickly for your liking.

“Yeah, can someone get me a drink or did you lot finish off the bar already?” you joke, pulling back to meet Ben’s gaze. 

“On it,” Mason offers before Ben can say anything, giving you a quick peck on the cheek on his way over to the bar. 

As Mason makes you a strong drink so you can catch up to everyone else’s level, you turn back to Ben and find him still looking at you with those bright blue-green eyes and the warm smile that captivated you from the start. 

“How’s your summer been?” you ask quickly, trying to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach from just being in his presence.

It’s been a couple of months now since you’ve seen him, but you’ve seen on his Instagram that he’s spent his summer at F1 races and on yachts while you’ve been stuck working in London. 

“Good, it’s been way too long since I’ve seen you, though,” Ben says sincerely. “How’s life as a hotshot producer for Sky?”

“Busy,” you reply, trying not to blush at his previous comment. “I’m liking it, but I do miss Chelsea. You know, the atmosphere at the club, all the familiar faces.”

“The club misses you too, trust me,” Ben says without missing a beat.

You don’t have time to respond before Mason is thrusting a drink into your hand and Sophia is tugging you away to discuss early wedding plans. 

After an hour or so, you’ve quickly relaxed back into a familiar state of comfort with your friends. Even if you don’t see each other as much as you would like these days, and it’s only going to get harder to make time when the season starts, these people still mean the world to you. 

At some point, after you’re a few drinks deep - you’ve definitely toasted to Kai and Sophia’s engagement with at least 3 different bottles of champagne at this point - and have made the rounds to talk to everyone, you feel someone grab your hand and tug you down onto the couch. 

You let out a surprised squeak, and your heart rate doesn’t settle down at all once you realize who grabbed you - who you’re now sitting so close to that your legs are touching. 

The entire time you’ve been here, you’ve been trying to resist going back over to chat with Ben, even though you’ve felt a magnetic pull in his direction from the moment you laid eyes on him. You’ve been sneaking glances at him whenever you can, admiring the way his eyes light up when he talks or the way he runs his fingers through his hair when he’s thinking about something, but you haven’t had a moment alone since he greeted you.

“What’s up, Chilly?” you ask, chuckling at his content expression. “You pretty drunk?”

“Just buzzed,” Ben smiles. “You know, last hurrah before the season starts.”

“You didn’t have enough fun frolicking around the Mediterranean for a month?” 

The question leaves your mouth before you can think about what you’re saying, and you see the way his eyebrows immediately raise and a slightly smug look appears on his face.

“Someone’s been stalking my Insta,” he smirks. “You miss me or something, Y/N?”

You take a small sip of your drink, staring down at your lap before answering him. Some combination of the buzz and the party and just him makes you briefly emboldened to tell the truth. 

“Yeah, maybe I did.”

When you look up, Ben’s eyes immediately lock with yours, and you suddenly feel your cheeks growing hotter and your stomach in knots. 

There’s always been some unexplored tension lingering beneath your friendship.

Nothing has ever actually happened between the two of you, although there are a few times it probably could have (and one time it almost did) if you weren’t trying to be professional and not hook up with one of the players at the club you worked for.

A club you no longer work for, you realize. 

“I missed you too, Y/N,” he says in a slightly lower voice that sends a shiver up your spine.

You continue to look into each other’s eyes, the tension seeming to build with each second, until Sophia plops down beside you and interrupts the moment.

“Alright, we’re playing a drinking game,” she declares, setting a deck of cards on the table in front of you. 

“Is that really necessary at this point?” you joke, gesturing to the fairly inebriated group of people around you.

“No, but it will be fun,” Sophia grins. “And I’m the bride-to-be, so I’m in charge.”

It’s a simple game to follow, thankfully. It’s essentially a version of truth or dare where the questions and challenges are pre-written on the cards. You go around the circle a few times, and thankfully you get some fairly easy ones, like revealing the name of your first crush (who nobody here knows) and taking a shot of the alcohol of your choice.

It’s entertaining watching the boys complete some pretty outlandish dares, and you’re excited to see what crazy task Ben ends up with when you see him draw a dare card from his spot next to you.

“Alright,” Ben says before reading his card aloud to the group. “Kiss the person…to your left.”

Even in your slightly inebriated state, it doesn’t take you long to realize that you’re the person to his left, meaning Ben has to kiss you. 

The room goes silent as the implication of this settles in. You’re certain at least half of the people here have had some kind of wager at some point over when you and Ben would get together, but you always brushed it off and joked that it would never happen.

Nothing has ever technically happened between you, other than flirtation and the occasional touches. You’ve never kissed him, despite how many times you’ve wanted to. 

There was one time you almost let your desire get the better of you, right after the Club World Cup win in Abu Dhabi. 

You were both caught up in the excitement of the win, and you’d been spending a lot of time together outside of work lately as Ben was recovering from his ACL injury and you wanted to support him as much as possible. 

You knew it was hard for him not to be a part of the win that day, to have to watch from the sidelines as his team emerged victorious. So, you spent basically the entire day with him, sitting with him during the game and staying close by during the celebrations afterward. 

Toward the end of the night, you ended up alone with him in a corner booth of the restaurant the club had rented out for the party. Nobody was paying much attention to the two of you, everyone still caught up in the excitement and dancing the night away. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” Ben said, gazing at you intently as he set down his drink, which wasn’t his first of the night (or third or fourth). 

“For what?” you asked a bit shyly. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’ve done everything,” he corrected quickly. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

You weren’t sure if he meant physically there in Abu Dhabi, as you were the one that had encouraged him to come, or where he was mentally in his recovery at the moment. You’d done everything you could to help him through it, but there was only so much you could do. You weren’t a doctor, or a time-traveller that could magically stop the injury from happening, or even his girlfriend. You were just a friend with no medical knowledge, trying to help without overstepping any boundaries. 

You were just a girl who was head over heels for one of her best friends. 

“Ben, I haven’t…I’m just being a friend,” you said softly. “You’re the one who’s faced this setback head-on, never complaining or giving up. And you’re almost there. I’m so proud of you.”

For a moment, you saw a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize, one that made your heart flutter uncontrollably. The next moment, Ben began to lean in, his eyes flickering to your lips, and you had never wanted anything so badly in your life as you wanted to kiss him.

But you knew you couldn’t. Not when he was drunk and vulnerable and had been relying on you for emotional support for months. He was sad and confused and you knew he would regret it in the morning, and you would regret letting yourself feel something that wasn’t real.

“I, um…” you muttered quickly, pulling away from him. “We should go to bed. Early flight home tomorrow.”

Ben just stared blankly at you for a moment. “Y/N, I’m sorry, I-I’ve just had too much to drink and-“

“Don’t worry about it, Chilly, seriously,” you said, reverting back to the nickname you’ve used for most of your friendship, worried that the if you spoke his first name right now, the pure adoration you harbour for him would come through in the way it left your tongue. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You quickly squeezed his shoulder as you got up from the table, making your way to the exit as stealthily as possible to avoid having to talk to anyone else. 

The moment you got back to your hotel room, you cried over Ben Chilwell for the first time. You cried in a way you hadn’t even after breakups. 

You cried because you knew he would never be yours, and you had to accept that. 

That night was over a year ago now, and you and Ben never spoke a word about what nearly happened between you. There were certainly moments since where he looked at you with that same glint in his eye, and you allowed your mind to wander as to whether he was feeling some deeper for you, but these hopes were always quickly dashed when he went home with some model or bid you goodnight without acknowledging the tension between you. 

You took the job at Sky, and started seeing him much less often, which wasn’t exactly intentional but wasn’t totally an accident, either. It certainly made your life easier not having to suppress your feelings for him at work everyday. 

Until now. 

Now, when he’s looking right at you with those eyes and you’ve never wanted anything more than to kiss him. 

“Uh…” Ben looks at you and scratches the back of his neck. “It’s up to you-“

“Just do it, Chilly,” you say with a sudden burst of confidence and a bit of recklessness, turning on the couch to face him properly.

Something flashes in Ben’s eyes for a moment - maybe surprise, maybe pure elation - but he doesn’t take long to act on your instruction. 

He grabs your face with both hands and leans in to kiss you firmly. He tastes a bit like beer, but he’s so warm and his lips are softer than you imagined - and you imagined them a lot. 

Everyone cheers and hollers at the kiss, but you can hardly hear them while you’re so singularly focused on the feeling of Ben’s lips on yours.

It’s over before you can properly enjoy it, making you wish desperately that there weren’t so many people here and you could grab him and kiss him over and over again.

“That’s gonna be tough to beat,” Mason jokes from across the table as you and Ben are silently reeling from the kiss you just shared. “I think we should call the game, Soph.”

Everyone else murmurs in agreement, and they begin to get up to get more drinks or continue to chat. But you remain frozen in place, only able to move enough to glance over at Ben, who is still looking at you. 

“Y/N,” Ben breathes your name. “I…”

“I should go,” you say quickly.

You immediately have deja vu to the night he nearly kissed you, how quickly you ran off, but this time is different - now that you know how good it feels to kiss him, there’s no way you can stay another moment in his presence without doing it again. 

“Wait, please,” Ben says, gripping your hand before you can stand up. “Can I give you a lift home?”

“You’re driving?” you ask in confusion, knowing that even if he’s not fully drunk, he’s certainly not sober enough to drive a car.

“No, no, I’ll just get an Uber and have it drop you off first,” he insists. “Make sure you get home okay.”

You know it doesn’t really make sense logistically, as you live much farther away than he does, but you can’t resist the temptation of his soft voice or the way his thumb is caressing the back of your hand. 

“Okay, sure.”

Ben gives you a small smile before pulling out his phone to call the car. 

Once he’s ordered it, you both quickly grab your things and say your goodbyes, ignoring the curious looks and knowing smirks you get when you say you’re sharing an Uber. 

Within five minutes, Ben is opening the door for you to climb into the back of a fancy black SUV, and then sliding in tantalizingly close to you. 

You feel like you’re going to explode with desire for him. 

“You alright?” Ben asks you after another minute has passed, and the look on his face gives you the sense that he’s been working up the courage to say something to you. 

You nod, holding his gaze and trying to keep your heartbeat under control. 

“Do you remember that night in Abu Dhabi, when we…”

You can feel your cheeks growing hotter as you nod, trying to process the fact that Ben not only remembers that moment between you but is choosing right now to bring it up. 

“You were drunk,” you remind him.

“Yeah, but I still - I still meant it. And I still remember how gorgeous you looked that night. You always do, really, but-“

“Ben,” you cut him off, unable to hear another word from him if this is going to end the same way it did last time. “I think you’re drunk now, too.”

“I’m really not,” he says in a steady enough voice that you’re inclined to believe him. And, now that you think about it, you don’t think you saw him have more than a few beers all night. “Are you?”

You shake your head, managing only a small gulp in response as you meet Ben’s intense gaze.  

“Y/N…” he says, barely above a whisper as he leans in closer. “Can I…”

“Your place,” you reply without a beat. Your brain is fogged by how much you want to kiss him again, but clear enough to know that once you start, you aren’t going to want to stop. “It’s closer than mine.”

Ben stares at you for another moment, just processing your words, before he nods and turns to the driver, asking him to skip the first address and go straight to his. 

It’s only a ten minute drive from there, but you’re so full of nervous anticipation for what’s to come that it feels like hours. 

By the time you pull up to his house and get out of the car, you still can’t quite believe what’s happening. Ben quickly unlocks the door and holds it open for you to enter his house. You haven’t been here in a while, but it’s as big as you remember it from all the times you’ve been here for a party or movie night. 

It shouldn’t be awkward being here, except for the fact that you haven’t really been alone since the night of your almost-kiss. And the fact that your first actual kiss was less than an hour ago. 

“Can I, erm-do you want some water?” Ben offers, gesturing to the kitchen. 

You nod with a small, nervous smile and follow him into the next room. 

The kitchen is dimly lit, the only light source coming from the hallway and the stove light as Ben  grabs two glasses and fills them both with water. He passes one to you, and you thank him quietly before taking a sip. 

“Been a while since you’ve been here,” he remarks, perhaps reliving all the same memories you have been since you walked through the door. 

“I know,” you say, setting your glass down and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit distant since I left Chelsea. It was just…easier.”

“I’m sorry if I fucked our friendship by trying to kiss you at the totally wrong time,” Ben says sincerely. “But honestly, I’m more sorry for not trying again since.”

That’s all it takes for you to take the few steps between you and crash your lips to his, immediately throwing your arms around his neck to steady yourself. 

Ben stumbles in shock for a moment before his hands find your waist and he kisses you back with equal passion, backing you up against the kitchen island. 

You moan slightly as he parts your lips with his tongue, tangling your fingers in his hair. Kissing him like this, with no restraint, is something you’ve craved for so long that you can hardly wrap your head around the fact that it’s happening. 

You let out a small squeal of surprise as Ben’s hands move to your thighs and he hoists you up onto the counter, never breaking contact with your lips. Your legs subconsciously tighten around him, and the friction makes Ben groan into your mouth. 

Kissing Ben is everything you dreamt it would be and more. No guy has ever made you feel a fraction of the way he is right now, and all you can think about is how good it would feel to have him inside you. 

You know how badly you want him, and it’s pretty clear that he wants you just the same, but you have just enough sanity left to know that you can’t just be another one of the girls he’s slept with. You’ve liked him too much, and for too long, to be just another notch in his bedpost. This has to mean more to him, too.

“Ben,” you sigh, reluctantly breaking the kiss and feeling your heart palpitating as you open your eyes and see his swollen lips and dilated pupils. “I…I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Me too, baby,” he smiles, and the new pet name alone is almost enough to make you cave on the spot and kiss him again. 

“I don’t just mean like this,” you say, hoping he understands what you mean. “I mean I want more with you. Something real.”

It’s the most terrifying moment of your life as you wait for him to respond, not sure what to expect. But when a wide grin breaks out on his face and he lets go of your waist to gently cup your face in both hands, your heart flutters uncontrollably. 

“I want that too, Y/N,” he says softly. “I’ve wanted it from the moment I first saw you, in the hallway at Cobham my first time there. You were wearing that flowy white dress, and I was so nervous being there, but you just smiled at me and introduced yourself and I felt so…safe.”

“You remember what I was wearing?” you ask in astonishment, thinking back to your first encounter with him. You have a similar memory of thinking he was the fittest guy you’d ever seen and how you could get lost in his eyes for hours. 

“Of course,” Ben smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, those same eyes sparkling. “And I remember thinking I couldn’t believe my luck that I signed for my dream club and met my dream girl on the same day.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes beginning to water from the heightened emotions you’re experiencing. 

“I-I never knew you felt the same,” you breathe. “Why did you never…”

“At first, I didn’t want to ask you out because I thought it might be frowned upon at the club and I didn’t want to break any rules or do anything inappropriate,” Ben explains. “And then we became such good friends, I didn’t think you would feel that way about me. When I tried to kiss you in Abu Dhabi and you turned me down, I took that as your answer.”

“God, no, Ben, I wanted to let you kiss me so badly,” you sigh. “I just couldn’t take advantage of you. You were drunk and emotional about the injury and…”

“I know, I know, it’s okay,” Ben assures you, pecking your nose quickly. “Now we both know how we feel, right?” 

You nod, resting your forehead against his for a moment and just taking this all in. You’ve wanted to be close to him like this for years, and to have it finally be a reality is almost too much to take. 

“Kiss me again?” you ask quietly. 

All you see is another quick flash of Ben’s grin before he leans in and presses his lips to yours. 

It only takes a moment to escalate back to the same passion you were both displaying before, and Ben’s hands move back to your thighs to pull you closer to him again.

You can feel your desperation for him growing by the second as his tongue explores your mouth and his hands roam your body. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt and pull it upward without breaking the kiss, making Ben chuckle as he helps you in your effort to remove it and tosses it on the floor. 

You immediately move your hands to his sides, feeling the toned muscles you’ve admired from afar all these years. 

The sundress you’re wearing gives him easy access to where you need him most, and his hand is tantalizing close as it rests on your upper thigh. 

“Ben, please,” you groan. “I want…can you-"

You’re interrupted by your own gasp of surprise as Ben tugs you closer and lifts you up off the counter. Your legs tighten around him reflexively, and the friction created makes you gasp again, this time in sheer pleasure. 

“Been waiting too long for this to not do it properly,” Ben says, punctuating his sentence with another, softer kiss. “You wanna go upstairs?”

You just nod and shift slightly to try to get down, but Ben only tightens his grip on your thighs and begins to walk toward the stairs. You continue to exchange sloppy kisses as he ascends the staircase, and you’re turned on even more by the strength and ease with which he carries you up to his room. 

He kicks open the door and gently lays you down on the bed before reaching over to flick on the lamp. You take a moment to take in your surroundings. Of all the times you’ve been in his house, you’ve never been in his bedroom. It’s cleaner than you expected, and a bit cozier and more lived-in than the rest of the house. There’s a book on his nightstand that you can’t quite make out the title of, and a photo of him and his family next to it. 

It feels like Ben, and you feel completely at home.

Ben climbs over you and begins to kiss you again, and your hands immediately fly to his shorts to help take them off. Once they’re discarded and he’s in nothing but his boxers, you can feel how hard he is pressed up against you. 

“Are you sure?” Ben asks softly, though you can see him biting his lip in anticipation as you lightly stroke him over the thin material.

You nod, maintaining eye contact as you quickly pull off your own underwear and toss them aside.

“I’m sure.”

Ben leans in to kiss you again, and you let out a sigh of pleasure as you let yourself surrender completely to the ecstasy of being with him. 

-

“I can’t believe we waited this long to do this,” you sigh dreamily.

You’re curled up in Ben’s arms, lying with your head on his chest and an arm and a leg draped over him. You’re both still catching your breath a bit after the most perfect, mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had in your life. You always knew he would be good in bed, or at least you thought he would be, but he truly surpassed all of your expectations. 

“I know,” Ben murmurs, pressing a reverent kiss to your temple. “I wish I had the courage to tell you sooner, but you’re so important to me. And a part of me also thought I would never have a shot with you.” 

You prop your chin up on his chest to look him in the eye, furrowing your eyebrows. “You thought that you, a super fit, gorgeous footballer would never have a shot with me? Are you being serious?”

Ben nods shyly, as if he didn’t just go down on you until you were seeing stars and screaming his name in pleasure less than 30 minutes ago. 

“You’re beautiful, Y/N, and you’re the smartest person I know,” he says, almost certainly making your cheeks redden. “You’re definitely out of my league.”

“Please, Ben, you spent the whole summer with Instagram models with perfect bodies,” you remind him, a bit ashamed of how insecure it made you seeing him all over social media with so many women you know you look nothing like. 

He laughs softly before shaking his head and pressing a soft kiss to your nose. “No, my mates spent time with those girls who don’t compare to you at all while I sat around feeling sorry for myself and missing you.”

You can’t resist leaning in to kiss him firmly on the lips, your hand tangling in his messy hair. Your heart is so full of affection for this boy already that you know it’s only a matter of time before you fall even deeper for him than you already have.

“You know, maybe it’s a good thing we waited,” you say when you break apart, your fingers still threaded through his hair. “We’re both a little older and more mature now, and we don’t work together anymore. If we’re going to do this, we should do it properly, right?”

Ben smiles sheepishly. “Does that mean you’re my girl now?”

You stiffen, a little surprised by his question even if it’s far from the biggest surprise you’ve gotten tonight. 

“I, um-well, if you want-“

“You already know what I want, babe,” Ben says with a soft expression on his face. “I meant it when I said you’re my dream girl. I want everything with you, Y/N.”

“Alright,” you reply, a wide smile breaking out on your face as well. “Then I’m all yours, Chilwell.”

You both lean in for a kiss at the same time, giggling softly against each other’s lips. You’re so giddy that it’s actually a challenge to kiss him properly, soft moans mixed with the glorious sound of his laughter. 

You don’t think you could ever get enough of this.

And as you drift off in Ben’s arms a bit later that night, after going another round and exchanging a few more soft goodnight kisses and tender words, you make a mental note to buy Sophia and Kai a really nice wedding present. You certainly owe them one.

-

a/n: please let me know what you thought of this, it makes my day getting feedback 💓 thank you for reading!

[boba-beom]

*:･ﾟ❅･ﾟskate to my heart | KANG TAEHYUN

pairing: taehyun x fem!reader

genre: oneshot; fluff, bsf2l

summary: after watching taehyun at practice several times, he eventually asked you to watch his last, big game for the season in exchange for a date later the same night. with an uncertified label and known feelings between the both of you, would taehyun end the day with two wins?

wc: 4.1k

warnings: not proofread :< bestfriends 2 lovers, taehyun courting reader, a sprinkle of jealousy, taehyun almost fought someone eep, very little hockey terminology+knowledge (inaccurate representation most likely), physical affection, littlesttt bit suggestive, reader admires taehyun a lot but she gets shy sometimes, lil emotional, minor misunderstangin, taehyun has a super soft spot for reader and ADORES her, confession, a little cheesy, a kiss :>

a/n: requested by anonie! thank you anonie for sending this through <3 I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading! also 'courting' is when one person typically spends time and puts in effort with the person they are wanting to pursue! a little better than the talking stage lmao. I would also like to thank @gyupremacy @junniieesbby and @amoryeonjun for helping me come up with title options for this fic, ily guys (I may use one for a short sequel to this but that's for another day lmao)

a few days ago you had promised taehyun that you would come with him to his final hockey game for the season. in exchange, he made a promise to take you out on a date after, regardless if he wins or not.

and that led you to this very moment.

the sports venue was quite big, just the right size for the local games, with the building accommodating two rinks for figure skaters on the other side and ice hockey on the side you're on, in which you're seated by the acrylic panels so you were one of the closest to the rink.

just for taehyun.

he's the sole reason you've bought new outerwear and accessories to keep you warm within the rink, you even bought a jersey jumper with the colours of the team he is in. perhaps you went the extra mile and personalised it with his surname and birth date number.

"I hope you'll come to my hockey game this weekend. it's the last one for the season and it would mean a lot to me if you came along. and then afterwards I'll promise to take you on a date, please?"

his words echoed in your head as if he had told you just before you arrived at the sports venue. a smile had started creeping up on your face as you remembered the way he almost begged you to go on a date with him; his eyes gentle and his hand enveloped yours.

taehyun's team, rockets, had plenty of fans. some being seated a few rows behind you on your far left. it wasn't hard to miss them from the way you could hear high pitched squeals as soon as the players for rockets stepped their hockey skates onto the ice, watching the team skate past you one by one.

as each player glided past you, the cheers for the team were non-stop, whistles, screams and chants behind you. yet you managed to block them out a little — as if the lack of sounds would help you see better — and your eyes were darting around to look out for one player in particular.

then the crowd started to cheer significantly louder than before. that's when your eyes locked with a pair of large, round ones that had a familiar hold on yours. he sent you a subtle wave paired with a quick wink, and you thank god that you were sat at the front to catch that.

you waved your blue and red striped scarf, that you had bought just for him, as you called out for him and his team name as an attempt to hide the fact you could feel your cheeks heating up.

but taehyun noticed. you couldn't hide that from him.

the game wasn't going to start for another thirty minutes since the players were gliding around for their on-ice warm ups. you observed the way players would get comfortable on the ice, taking in long strides, others in smaller groups to do their crossover drills from one end of the rink to the other.

you noticed some of the crowd coming closer around you, to the acrylic panels since they were able to stand there within the duration of practice up until the puck drop. luckily you remained in your seat and was still able to have some space around you.

a call of your name caught your attention, but you knew it wasn't taehyun's voice from the sounds of it. a player from the opposing team, wearing the black and white kit, had slowed down skating in front of you, and attempted to spark your attention but you remained neutral and kept a tight lipped smile.

"yah! penguin. shouldn't you be on the other side of the rink?" your ears focus on taehyun's voice, muffling the sounds around you.

knowing taehyun, he was just being protective over you but you still had to make sure he didn't get into any fights. the game hadn't even started yet. he made his way past the opposing player, gliding past him as he slowed down right against the acrylic and knocked on it.

you okay? he mouthed at you with a little nod of assurance.

you gave him a soft smile with two thumbs up to give back the reassurance, but taehyun still felt compelled to stay a few seconds longer. he gave you a knowing look with a head tilt and brows raised slightly, but you couldn't help but laugh a little at his determination to make sure you were okay. again, you noded and smiled as you moved your wrists flicking outwards in a 'shoo' motion so he could get back into warming up with no distractions.

it was amusing that that was the first time taehyun behaved assertively in front of another player outside of the game. he usually had good sportsmanship with all players, however, this time around it seemed as thought he was more bothered than you were.

watching taehyun was nothing out of the norm for you since you always offered to come with him during his practices, admiring the way his skin glowed and reflected the light from the ice below him. watching the way he moved from one side of the rink to the other with steady and swift movements while in control of passing the puck was something you were always amazed about.

there had been a few cases when taehyun was free on the ice, face turning to look straight at you since he always knew where you would sit, and once he had your attention he'd quickly wave at you. you knew if you were on the ice yourself you would melt right through.

*:･ﾟ❅･ﾟ

after a good twenty minutes of the game, the first intermission had started. the teams made their way to their designated sides off the rink, rehydrating and even getting something to nibble on within the fifteen minutes they had.

some players came back onto the rink five minutes before the game resumed, skating to their assigned places. meanwhile you kept your eyes out for your best friend, but the same player from the opposing team made a return towards you.

you noticed but you paid him no attention, keeping that same tight lipped smile while your eyes were darting everywhere but in front of you.

he knocked on the clear barrier, and mouthed 'can I get your number?' and gestured his hand to a phone sign in which you slowly shook your head and mouthed a 'sorry'. he didn't seem to take it and asked again, begging at this point. you were about to shake your head again until a player in blue and red skimmed behind him and backed him up against the clear panel.

you stood up to get a better look and it was no other than taehyun. he was about to grab the other player by the collar of their kit until you had your hand flat on the surface and banging it against the acrylic three times to grasp his attention. taehyun's fist didn't reach the collar, thankfully, catching the worry in your eyes and he retracted his unravelling fist.

a sigh left you as you saw him back up from his opponent, your head shaking slowly at him while you mouth 'it's okay'. he was lucky he hadn't gone ahead with it otherwise it'd led to a five-minute major penalty towards him. he still had two thirds of the game left.

once you sat back down in your seat, you readied yourself for the next twenty minutes of the game. the teams were back in their designated sides of the rink, and taehyun was set in his position as center.

you focused on him, knees slightly bent, hands holding the hockey stick and his concentration on the center before the referee dropped the puck. he hits the puck as soon as it collided with the ice, and his movements remained swift and sharp as he and his teammates led the puck to the other side of the rink.

it was clear seeing the puck passed from taehyun, center, to the left winger then right winger, but so many players blocked your vision. it had you thinking the puck had been taken by the opposing team, though in a fraction of a second your ears were filled with the crowd cheering. from the sounds of it rockets had scored a goal, and you looked up at the screen above the rink to watch a quick replay of who scored the goal.

it was no other than the star player who has your heart.

you stood up, cheering and clapping, waving your scarf as you try and find him in your field of vision. almost as if you were in a movie, the hockey players skated aside and taehyun's skating towards his original position, facing you. you could see his teethy smile as he pointed out at you, hearing a few 'ooh's and whistles from the audience.

the pounding in your chest felt like it was about to burst and the heat crawling up to your cheeks were starting to burn you up. you shook your head at him again, this time sheepishly, as you bit the inside of your cheek, refraining your grin but you couldn't hold out and let out an endearing laugh.

*:･ﾟ❅･ﾟ

it was the second and last intermission of the overall game. the game time period had just finished up nicely, rockets' scores in the lead with nine and the opposing team with five. you had a good feeling about rockets winning the final twenty minutes of the game.

there were about eight minutes left of the intermission before they resumed the game, so you made your way through the row to the restroom.

as you walked down the corridor to find the toilets you felt a loose grasp on your wrist, making your gasp hitch in your throat and turn your head to see just the person you couldn't wait to see until the end of the game.

"tae, what are you doing here?" you whispered at him, the confusion on your face clear as day.

"I was too excited, I wanted to see you."

you noticed the way his slightly damp and dishevelled hair was grazing just by his brows, his face glowing from the sheer layer of sweat. and his eyes steady on yours.

"well," you slid your wrist out of his hold and played with his fingers. "we still have that date later tonight, remember?"

you looked up at him and you see a proud smirk on his lips, nodding his head slowly in attempt to keep in his excitement. but the rose hue on his cheeks were a big giveaway.

"I'll see you later then. I'll do my best for you, keep your eyes on me."

taehyun lifted your hand and lightly pressed his lips against the back of your fingers. the familiar feeling of your heart about to burst in your chest returned, and you caught the way the tips of his ears blushed the same pink tinge you saw earlier.

"do your best, my star player." you smiled at him, and he let out a soft scoff intertwined with his laugh. watching him walk away to get back onto the rink and finally letting you go to the restroom.

walking into the restroom you slammed your hands flat on the countertop beside the sink, looking at your reflection in disbelief.

"my star player?! really?" your expression changed when you repeated it again, smiling at yourself and shaking your head. "I must be out of my mind."

you can't believe how fast your feelings were brewing for your best friend. there's always been this unspoken dynamic between you, indirect words that mean something a little more, looks that only has your heart fluttering in your chest — and his. gestures that tended to linger and only either one of you would notice that it was a second longer than what would be considered 'platonic'.

snapping out of your reverie you went to use the toilet before making your way back to your seat. you had the final twenty minutes left and then the evening to talk to taehyun properly.

*:･ﾟ

there were five minutes left until the game was over, and during this game the opposing team had scored three times, bringing the current score for rockets with nine, still, and the opposing team with eight.

you hoped the game wouldn't end in a tie. it would be a shame to end the final game of the season in a tie. rockets were doing so well throughout the past two game, but this third game seemed to be the opposite of what they call 'the charm'.

"come on, come on. just one more point." you whispered to yourself, chanting nervously. your hands gripped onto your jacket, taking it off and revealing your customised jersey jumper reading 'KANG' with '05' underneath in bold.

as soon as you were sat comfortably, you checked the time once more; just under four minutes until the end of the game.

one last point and you'd be celebrating later in the evening.

you watched the puck passed around by the opposing team, almost accepting defeat until the players started skating towards the other end of the rink. rockets had the puck by their sticks and from all you could see, it was being passed repeatedly between the left winger and left defence. losing sight of it again it seems like the right winger had it until you saw taehyun receiving it.

with an extremely quick knock of his hockey stick against the puck, it flew into the goal for the final time this season and the speakers let out the horn indicating the end of the game. the screen above showed the final scores, rockets - 10 / guests - 8.

just in time, and your star player was surrounded by his teammates, each of them skating up to him and knocking the front of their helmets together. watching him being congratulated by his team was so endearing to watch — especially knowing just how much work he's put into this sport, knowing how much he loves it.

the crowd behind you was still full of cheers, whistles and chanting. but your eyes were fixed on taehyun as he took his helmet off, his hair a little more damp and dishevelled compared to when you saw him during the second intermission. that didn't stop him from looking incredible with his face literally glowing from his sweat and the ice reflecting off of the droplets.

he made a beeline towards you for the last time on the ice, a huge grin adorned on his face along with his asymmetrical dimple making an appearance.

was it because his team won? perhaps. was it because you were wearing the jersey with his name and birth date? most likely.

his smile was too contagious you didn't realise when you started smiling so hard, you were laughing a little too. the continuous cheers had you joining in, clapping towards taehyun, all while he mouthed a 'meet me by the foyer'.

after the crowd started moving, you made your way straight to the foyer, watching the audience walk past you as they exited the venue.

you're leaning against a pillar, watching the last strand of the light in the sky disappear through the floor to ceiling glass panels as your stomach was filled up with butterflies from the thought of going on a date with your best friend and making it a joint celebratory dinner.

a pair of hands abruptly weighed your shoulders down, having your heart leap out of your chest as you turn around to a giggly and cheerful taehyun.

"tyun! you were amazing out there!" you exclaimed, jumping up to hug him with your arms over his shoulders and his bag sliding down his arm, only hugging you with one arm around your waist.

"yeah well, I had to put on my best. you were watching." you playfully nudged his arm, biting back your grin but his was too contagious to hold back. "no but seriously, the team did so well tonight. they're going out to celebrate, actually."

your smile faltered in the littlest bit, thinking carefully before you asked him.

"do you want to go too? we can always rain check the date... if you want? I don't mind, seriously." you felt the guilt appear inside you, not wanting to hold him back. you saw how happy he was out there and it wasn't all the time you saw taehyun like that.

"hey, no." taehyun shrugged his bag strap to hang from his shoulder, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, slowly walking out the exit together to toward the car park. "I have a date to go to and I wouldn't want to miss that for the world. I see those blokes almost every week anyway, I'll live."

taehyuns words brought the flutter back in your chest and you raised your hand to hold onto his that's hanging over your shoulder. the evening air was cool and taehyun's freshly washed hair was finally out of his face. from the angle you could see, he was literally the definition of perfection in your books.

letting his words process in your head, all you managed to say was, "ah, you're so cheesy." you let go of his hand to open the car door, sitting inside as you waited for him to put his stuff in the trunk and sit in the driver's seat.

"yeah, but you like it though." his voice had a playful tone, probably with a smile on his face, it was dark in the car. he wasn't even looking at you, buckling his seatbelt and inserting the key to start the car.

yeah. I do.

*:･ﾟ❅･ﾟ

it's almost been an hour since taehyun dropped you home to get ready and he did the same. you texted him saying that you were done and just waiting for him to pick you up, which didn't take too long because he fortunately didn't live too far away from you.

your phone's notification sound went off as he sent you a simple I'm outside text, but that was the norm with him. you grabbed your purse and shrugged on your coat over your dress, examining your final look through the body-length mirror in the hallway before unlocking the door.

a taehyun in a black button down, top button left undone and sleeves folded to a three quarters length up his forearm that matched nicely with his dark slacks was standing in front of you. and how could you look past the bouquet of red roses arranged with baby's breath, elegantly wrapped in decorative cellophane.

"for my beautiful date."

your lips formed a subtle pout as you retrieved the flowers from him, noticing the sheer bow wrapped around the stems.

"taehyun," your voice was meek, just audible enough until you cleared your throat. "these are stunning, thank you, handsome."

you walked back into the hallway to place them in an empty vase in which you emptied out a couple of days ago after you'd turned the old arrangement into dried flowers.

returning to the entrance, you released a heavy sigh while walking through the door, controlling yourself to not gawk at the gorgeous man stood on your porch.

"why?" taehyun stepped aside for you to shut and lock the door.

you could feel him hovering behind you, and you noticed his shadow casted over your shoulder and could be seen against the wooden door.

"because..." your voice trailed.

once you were done checking you had locked the door properly, you turned around, paying no attention that you were incredibly close to taehyun's face, his eyes darting to your lips before looking back up at your eyes. you lost your balance as your back almost crashed into the door if it wasn't for his hand resting on your lower back.

"because?" he parroted.

your chest was slightly heaving, knowing that he could potentially hear your heart drumming in your chest for the nth time that evening.

"um, because... we're gonna be late for our reservation." you hastily slid aside and walked towards his car as he trailed behind you, his hands in his pockets and letting out an amused scoff with an endeared smile on his face.

*:･ﾟ

to your relief, you had arrived just in time for your private reservation and you had nothing to worry about. the restaurant was beautiful — it was elegant. the high ceiling with dark grey marble pillars in each corner of the room to withhold the structure. a contrast from the ligher shade of grey for the tiled flooring.

"how long until the next season?" you asked taehyun, curious as you fiddled with the corner of the napkin on the table.

despite being with taehyun almost on a daily basis, this was something you weren't used to. the atmosphere was a little different, a little thicker and laced with something that hasn't been spoken about, but it's there.

you were nervous. you knew that, taehyun knew that and he could definitely see that. he reached his hand over to scoop up your fingers gently into his, and the motion of his thumb skimming over your knuckles somewhat helped with those nerves.

"this season only finished a few hours ago, ___." the continuous movement of his calloused fingers against yours had calmed you down enough, but you couldn't manage to look him in the eye until he tugged on your hand lightly. "but probably not for another couple of months or so, we'll see."

you both held eye contact, the longest you managed ever since he picked you up from your house. he opened his mouth to say something but you had already beat him to it, starting to speak before you realised.

"I meant it when I said this, but you genuinely looked so happy out there on the rink." he listened and nodded as he let you continue. "just seeing you so passionate about what you love on the ice rink at first hand was amazing, honestly." you let out a half hearted chuckle.

"well, part of it's because you're there to support me. throughout my practices, trainings and today's game." it was your turn to caress the inside of his palm, letting him know that you'd always be there for him. "and I have something to say."

you nod, listening intently.

"if it wasn't for you supporting me throughout, I don't know if I would've even continued up until now. I got this far because of you. and I know you can sense... whatever this attraction is between us too. you're my best friend and always will be," he paused, noticing the way you bit the inside of your cheek. "but I also want to be your lover."

taehyun didn't know if it was the reflection from the hanging lights above you, but he swore your eyes lit up. you didn't know if you were going to cry because you almost thought you were getting friendzoned, or it was because taehyun had cleared the air and asked to be your lover.

worry washes over taehyun's face, setting aside his utensils as he picked up his napkin to lightly dab on the stray tear that fell without your knowledge. he cooed at you, and you weakly laughed at yourself.

"I was afraid you were going to friendzone me for a second." you had taehyun lightly scoff and slowly shook his head at you, but his gaze softened, brows relaxed and eyes twinkling. "I'd love you to be my lover, tyun. and I'll love you twice as much."

your tears brimmed at your eyes, threatening to fall one after the other until taehyun decided to get out of his chair and walk over to you, a knee on the ground while he cupped your cheek and cooed you with sweet, reassuring words.

"I'd be a fool if I friendzoned you," he dabbed away the tears towards the outer corner of your eyes, "you okay?"

you nodded your head in certainty, cupping his cheek and you noticed the way his eyes are so focused on you, holding the galaxy within. the eyes of your best friend filled with nothing but love and adoration for you.

"tyun?" he hums at you whispering his name. "can I kiss you?"

he huffed an exhale paired with a hopeful nod, and his eyes are focused on your lips.

"please do."

you both let out relieved sighs once your lips collided. his hand gently slid from your cheek to the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, melting into one another's touch. his moan got caught in the back of his throat the moment he felt your teeth gingerly tugging on his bottom lip before parting the kiss.

"you're just full of surprises, aren't you?" he chuckled at your expression once you realised what you did.

"well, there's a first for everything, isn't there?" your tone smug with a hint of confidence, taehyun attempted to keep a stoic expression.

"that's so cheesy." he stood up, stroking the top of your head and tucking a few loose strands behind your ear.

"but you liked it though." you replied, and he returned to his seat, facing you with a defeated but pleased look on his face.

"yeah, I do"

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[141shousewife]

You like movies? You wanna make one?

Minors DNI I WILL eat you.

ill make this another part if it does well

cw: nsfw, price x female reader, TA reader x Professor! Price, slight jealousy/arguing, filming, price x plus size reader

Johns voice echos inside of the linoleum lecture hall. You quietly listen to the scribbles of a red pen and the sound of his voice. Normally the sound from his auditorium during lectures is moderate, but today he is particularly chipper as his voice bleeds into the shared office you currently revise essays in.

"-Excellent! and what do you think the director is trying to convey with this wide frame shot?"

Your eyes continue to graze over the same words again and again: "Director" "Shot" "Film" "Cinematography" "Intention" "Audience"

You love your job, but reading first years' dull writing for over an hour and a half has your eyes and brain hurting.

Being John's TA had a lot of quirks; good pay, free snacks, and lots of academic validation that you will not expand on in front of your friends when questioned, and lastly the sharply dressed professor that lounges around and insists on your everlasting 'genius', and is admittedly fun to run your eyes over and imagine him slowl-

"ALRIGHT- that is going to wrap up our time for today, it's Friday so I don't want to keep you all. Remember to make good choices and turn in your makeups by 11:59 on Sunday. Okay, get outta here."

You rest your eyes and listen to the symphony of zipping backpacks, chairs being pushed in, and the different conversations of "i gotta turn in-" or "what are you doing this weekend-" quickly zip by the door of the closed office. You take a moment to settle into your rolling chair as you hear Price sending off students warmly. His brown suede dress shoes quietly grow louder as they hit the tile close and closer to the office door.

Price's office is cushy and expansive. There is enough room for more than the desk, rug, couch, and mini-fridge fill the space a subpar amount. The two desks that occupy the warmly lit, carpeted room are positioned across the room from each other. John's desk is littered with a desk lamp, books stacked on top of each other, a desk of pens and a closed cigar case.

As you hear the him begin to answer the last few questions from students while slowly opening the office door, you gather your materials and move to the couch and sit beneath the warm throw that adorns it.

The couch dips in on itself significantly and creaks under your wide bottom as you curse it for its announcement.

"Of course- and if you have any more questions feel free to email me."

The girl that you see him talking to- the sliver of her that you can see is smaller than you and blonde, she catches her hair in between two of her fingers and leans into his personal space.

"Could I come to your office for help on my essay, this Saturday, around say 6?

Not fully understanding what she is asking, he straightens out his back in concern and responds to her in a hushed tone.

"Do you not have a device in order to submit an email? If not the library is open from 9 am to 9 pm during the weekend."

She provides even less space for him and looks up with a smile.

"No Professor, I do, I just meant if I needed some... special help"

He maintains a warm demeanor but shuts her down

" I'm afraid not- My office hours are for working and if you make a comment like that again I am at liberty to report you to the dean, so I would suggest you leave now. Have a nice weekend."

He opens the door fully to enter and shuts it behind him and the blonde pads away quietly with less of her dignity than before. He rolls his eyes as he greets you.

"You can't make this stuff up. Flirting when she hasn't even turned in her essay on time. Bold."

You speak without fully thinking; wondering why Price is acting so insulted by a conventionally good looking girl shmoozing him. As he sets his laptop and other things on his desk you speak.

"She was a pretty girl John. It's not like its such a low blow."

John turns quickly quirks his head "You can't seriously be implying I would date some...kid? one of my students? She's not my type. "

You immediately jump to defend yourself with in hindsight- a bit too much gusto.

You say while sarcastically chuckling "I wasn't saying that! and come on it's just us, she- girls like her, are everyone's type."

John steps closer to where you are sat on the couch and looks down at you with his eyes furrowed and his hands in his pockets.

"Well she's not mine."

He reaches over on top of his desk a grabs a cigar, he quietly throws a "You mind?" over his shoulder and upon you responding "You're all good." he clips his cigar and lights it.

He turns around and steps closer as puffs it and he eyes you over.

His gaze is- uncomfortably intense, in a way that makes you wanna say sorry- or maybe start stripping...

He seems to catch wind of you being in thought.

"What do you care anyway?"

You look at him to respond but nothing comes out of your mouth as he sits the cigar down and steps closer to you until he's standing over you. His legs stand interlinked with yours and brushes them.

You feel something other worldly pull your body up to stand in front of him. You stare at him breathlessly and try to ignore the cinnamon, sandalwood and cigar smoke that's making you want to rub your-

John's voice pulls you out of another depraved thought

"I can't believe you think a girl like that is my type. I date women. Grown women. "

Your voice barely sounds like your own. You barely get the words out.

" I swear that wasn't what I meant. I just thought-"

John cuts you off "I know what you thought, you thought I was going to let you have a self deprecation fest, but I'm telling you that the women I want.. don't look, talk, or think like her. I don't want girls."

"I like women. Women who look, talk, and think like you." He toys with the bottom of your skirt in a way that makes your face grow warm, his hand brushing against your thick thigh.

You start to protest immediately, " You don't need to flatter me John, I'm sorry."

John starts speaking over you in frustration, "Why is it unbelievable that I would prefer you? I'm not flattering you. I'm not a liar or someone who compliments out of pity, you know what- here"

He huffs and grabs your wrist and places your hand directly over his khaki covered hard-on and whispers

"Does that feel like pity to you?"

As you stare at him dumbfounded, John's hand reaches up and holds the base of your skull with his large hand.

All of your breath re-enters your lungs like he just jump-started your entire system.

John looks at you with mischief you cannot quite place.

"How about I help you see how good you look?"

You track his gaze towards his Nikon and immediately look at him in horror.

"You wanna record me? No. Absolutely not. I look horrible on camera and you want to film my O-face and chubbiness from a side profile? You've lost it!"

"Honey, if you don't want to film because you're uncomfortable we can forget it right now, but if this is about the way your 'chubbiness' looks then I'm telling you that I wanna see this body. On me. On video."

[aces-and-angels]

ART CAMPAIGN BOOST SUBMISSIONS:

edit: i hit the image limit for this post, so any new additions will be included here

the tag is starting to get kinda crowded (great problem, dw). i just thought compiling them all here would make things easier for everyone to find! all of the art displayed below is free to use for the purposes of promoting vetted gfm's here on tumblr. no credit is needed unless specified (marked = ***). if you have any questions regarding how to craft a post using any of the art provided -> please do not hesitate to reach out to me! note: please press follow post as i will most likely need to update this masterlist from time to time.

some info is below the cut on how to best utilize this material. please read it in its entirety before using any artwork. thank you 🖤

learn how to make art for this project here:

---

this project has gained a lot of momentum and has shown very promising results. the level of engagement once art is attached to a vetted gfm increases significantly. you will see what i mean as i have linked example posts of how to best use these pieces to help families in need.

i currently have a list of over 20+ families that i am spotlighting in my own personal progress tracker (the list has gotten so long that i now need to make a second version to accommodate all the families trying to get in contact with me).

this art campaign boost is truly meant to be utilized by anyone. i would sincerely appreciate it if y'all could take some time and pick maybe 1-2 people from this list and use the art below to create your own signal boost posts on the families' behalf. as someone who is periodically tracking their progress- i know that donation rates have slowed for a number of them. i am one person and can only do so much on my own. the essence of this initiative is to get more people to mobilize as a collective. it will take everyone to get on board in order for these families to be able to reach their goals. that means spotlighting their accounts/campaigns periodically.

you need to keep up the momentum.

the individuals you are helping currently live in areas with minimal internet connection, meaning it is very difficult to spotlight themselves on their own. especially since this site is continuously suppressing/deleting their accounts. they need you to interact with their content. tumblr isn't like other social media sites. it's known for being very 'anti-algorithm' and it's common culture for many of us to not really care about our levels of engagement (i.e. follower count/amount of notes per post). it's very hard for your own content to "break" your inner circle of followers and gain traction if the topic of the post is not "popular" or "trending" these families are not operating on this site the same way you are. you may be using this platform as a means to "just vibe" but they are using it as a desperate attempt to raise essential funding to save their lives. the importance that their posts be elevated cannot be overstated. anyone who has ever created any sort of og content here knows how quickly a post can die out if no one interacts with it. this cannot happen with them.

tips for making your own signal boost post* (*for vetted campaigns):

-> make it easy to read + eye-catching: the problem i am seeing when you search many of these families' accounts is that their "tag" (username of their account) is full of the same types of posts (i.e. a generic response to their initial message to another person on tumblr) <- aka it is very easy for people to tune out which is the opposite of what we want to happen. creating your OWN posts in response to their asks allows the art to appear FIRST when people look up someone's account via tumblr's search bar, which will attract more attention to their accounts. it also forces people who are making these posts to actually sit down and read the stories they are sharing with the rest of their mutuals/lurkers alike -> include verification sources: the main reason people are searching for these accounts is b/c they are trying to see if it is okay to reblog/share their campaign with their own following. if you address this plainly and early on in your post that includes artwork -> people are more likely to interact -> tag the account you are promoting: please include the families' account as one of your #'s so it will appear when you search for their names on tumblr. also try @'ing their account in your post so it'll be easier for these families to find your work. some of them are incredibly new to the platform and may not be aware of all its features. something that you may find intuitive may not be as easily understood for these individuals. your role is to make them as easy as possible to find for others so they can gain more support. --- don't have time to type out a whole post for a family on their behalf? -> interact with one of theirs! attach something nice/helpful to their posts so it is more readily available for others to share. the same rules apply from above. as i said before, some of these accounts are brand spanking new and are not formatted in the same ways as others that may be more well-versed on how tumblr operates in terms of promoting their campaigns. (for example: even if the account has been vetted/verified by multiple trusted individuals- the owners of that account may not know to include that info in their posts about their campaign every single time they post. you can make their lives easier by including that info for them by reblogging one of their og posts and adding the necessary info on their behalf)

you can also find a more comprehensive list of vetted campaigns by el-shab-hussein/nabulsi here <- their list is now over 200+ with several campaigns that are "in the red" (very low in funding). please do not hesitate to try to spotlight anyone from this list as well!

el-shab-hussein also has a masterpost pinned here with additional campaigns (including those for other countries like sudan)

alright i've explained enough- time for the art!

artist: @rhq274 | @rhq2744 *** free to use, credit required meet raghad (read and share full post here) Hello, I am Raghad Qanou, a medical student from Gaza City. My people and I have been subjected to genocide for more than 230 days. My family and I have lived through various types of torture and inhumane conditions. This link is my only chance for me and my family to escape death and try to start over. This is not easy. But we are trying, and we would be happy to have you help save our lives and our future. instructions to utilize artwork: those who wish to share raghad's art MUST do ALL of the following: -> follow raghad on tumblr @rhq274 | @rhq2744 -> like + reblog one or more of her posts seen on her account that promotes her fundraiser (you may also include additional art shown below to help further boost her campaign; see example) once those actions detailed above are completed, you may use raghad's art to promote her campaign. *if you are utilizing this art for another campaign that is not raghad's -> you must also mention + link her fundraiser as well /// for those able: please consider donating to raghad's campaign here (vetted; no 221 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's sheet)

artist: me lol free to use, no credit required example

artist: @lampyri free to use, no credit required example

artist: @aria-ashryver free to use, no credit required example

artist: @monmonp0k free to use, credit not required- but if given, is appreciated example

artist: @juudaimes-true-form free to use, no credit required example

artist: @gaiuskamilah free to use, no credit required example

artist: @marnota free to use on all social media platforms (i.e. tumblr, insta, twitter, etc), no credit required example

artist: @marquainequeen free to use, no credit required example

artist: @palms-upturned free to use, no credit required example

artisit: @inkyswampbones free to use, no credit required example

[jellieland]

It's just like them, thinks Martyn, miserably, To want to make these things stick.

He's always been an "act first, weasel your way out of any potential consequences later," kind of guy, so immediate, painful and permanent consequences to his recklessness strike him as unfair, unwarranted, and quite possibly a personal attack.

But, well. Here he still is anyway. What's he going to do about it?

His ankle burns where the baby zombie clawed at it. His legs ache from the dripstone, and the dripstone, and, yes, the dripstone again, and also walking off Mumbo's house and perhaps slightly misjudging his landing.

His ear keeps ringing and most of his right side stings from the creeper that decided, quite rudely, to sneak up on him and then blow up directly in his face about half a second before he could raise his shield. And the gravel later on, that he'd seen falling but still not managed to avoid, hadn't helped with any of that either.

He can feel blood dripping down his back in no less then five separate places, along with his arm, his shoulder, and the side of his head—that last one bled a lot and got onto his bandanna which was pretty annoying, actually—all from his many encounters with what he thinks were probably, at a conservative estimate, about a billion skeletons.

He doesn't quite glare up at the Secret Keeper. The healing they'd given him had been too much of a relief for that; his vision had stopped swimming, that head wound had stopped bleeding so much, and it was significantly less painful to walk. But the look he gives them is certainly glare-adjacent.

"You do know injuries aren't supposed to stick around like this, don't you?" he mutters, bitterly. "I know you like twisting stuff, but this is ridiculous. It's unnatural, is what it is!"

Someone snorts behind him.

He turns, and he sees Cleo. Neat, meticulous stitches are visible across their skin. Martyn hasn't met many people with scars before, but she's one of them.

The only new one is what looks, ironically enough, like a zombie bite on their arm, entirely healed over.

"It's really not that hard to deal with if you're just patient," she says.

"Ah," he says. "Well. That's my problem right there, then, isn't it?"

"It certainly looks like it," they say, amused. They're laughing at him again. He can't even be mad, since all in all, he totally deserves it.

"Yeah, alright," he says, a bit indignant just for the sake of what remains of his pride. "No need to rub it in! I hope you realize that if healing just worked normally, I'd be doing really well, actually."

"Hmm. Right, you do tend to throw yourself off of cliffs, and then try and work out how you'll save yourself on the way down, don't you?" She gives him a knowing look. "But look on the bright side—when you do die, you'll get to be perfectly healthy again for... I give it ten seconds. After that, you'll start making decisions."

"Hey, I'll have you know I went to the Nether for ages, and got out without a scratch on me that I didn't have when I arrived!" he retorts.

"Oh, so you can be careful, you just choose not to be?" They raise a judgemental eyebrow.

"Well... I mean." He half-shrugs, then winces. "I mean. Yeah. Yes. You know this about me."

There is a brief pause. She gives him an unreadable look, eyes catching on the blood seeping through his shirt. "...Yeah. I guess I do."

He glances over at the Secret Keeper again, bold and unmoving against the unnaturally darkened sky.

When he looks back, Cleo is still watching him. "You didn't even bandage those, did you?" they ask, with a touch of what most people would think was disdain. "Let alone stitch them up."

"I mean, no? It's not like it'll do anything, is it?" he asks, taken aback. "The good old 'Powers That Be' want us to bleed, and they want us to keep bleeding! Who am I to argue?"

She narrows her eyes as though she doesn't quite understand his point. "I'm not saying that would fix it. I don't think any of us are going to live long enough for that method of healing to work." They shrug. "Would make it hurt less, though."

Now it's his turn to narrow his eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she says. "At least, so I've heard. For me, it's mostly about making sure I don't start physically falling apart, because it's really inconvenient when that does start happening."

He nods in acknowledgement. "Well, maybe I'll give it a go if I have the time." It all sounds a bit far-fetched to him. Much better to spend time working towards completing the next secret task he gets, or persuading people to give him the healing they have to spare, rather than losing hours on something that wouldn't actually help him in the long run.

(Maybe it's an echo, maybe it's just who he is, but Martyn's time is precious, and he is not giving it up for something so monotonous. Who would find that interesting?)

"Alright," they say. "If you're sure. But no one else is going to do it for you, you know."

He snorts. "Cleo," he says. "You're funny." She, of all people, should know he's already well aware of that.

"Right," they say, dryly. "Well, unless you want anything else I think I'm done here."

"Nah, not really." he says, then pauses. Frowns.

As unconvinced as he is, she really didn't have to say that to him. She deserves at least something in return.

"I will say," he says delicately, "if that advice really does help. You should probably keep it to yourself. You know. Death game, and all that."

All at once, their expression turns cold. "I think it's my business what I choose to give up, actually," she snaps.

Martyn's eyes briefly flick over to the Secret Keeper. "I mean..."

"No. I meant what I said." They cross their arms. "It's up to other people what they choose to do with it. But what I give them is up to me." She glances at the Secret Keeper, and then back to him. "No one's ever been able to tell me what I owe, or don't owe, to anyone." They smirk, and give him a piercing look. "You know this about me."

"...Yeah," he says. "I guess I do."

There is a short silence.

"Well!" He claps abruptly. "I won't keep you!"

"No, you won't," she says. "I'd best be off. This might come as a surprise, but I do actually have better things to do than hang out around Grian's creepy rock all day."

"Fair, fair." He chuckles, and raises a hand in farewell as they leave. "See you around."

Once she's out of sight, he goes back to staring at the Secret Keeper.

It's quiet.

"They're doing pretty well this time, huh?" he says. "If she keeps going like this, she probably won't get another happy ending, will she."

The air is very still, here. It's as though the place is trapped in night, even when he can see the sun in the sky.

The Secret Keeper does not answer him.

"I know you, though," he says. "You won't let it be all about being careful. That would be boring."

The thought nags at him that Cleo hasn't sounded as though they'd found any of this boring. Surely there had to be more to it than what she'd said? There had to be.

If there wasn't, then what was the point of all this pain?

He shifts, and his shoulder twinges, and he hisses quietly with frustration.

"Things already stuck," he says, unhappily. "They already stayed. I thought that was obvious."

The rock just stands there.

Judgemental. Impartial. It's impressive how it can manage to be both.

Martyn sighs heavily, and winces, and turns away. He looks towards his extremely small, entirely copied base, and a place where the sky is capable of letting in the light.

He pokes gingerly at his head wound. It's shallow, but painful.

"Maybe just this one," he mutters. "Could repurpose my bandanna. Although I guess I should probably wash it first. That would be smart." He wipes at his face. "If I don't then blood's going to start getting in my eyes. But not in a cool way, just in a way where I'll fall in a ravine by accident or something."

Nobody responds. That's ok. He hasn't exactly endeared himself to anyone, recently.

In a game that's even more about trust than usual, there's a part of him that doesn't mind being a lone wolf, as it were. At least for now. Harder to stab someone in the back if you don't let them get behind you, right?

He can make this work. He'll just have to adapt. He's good at that, usually! He just has to find the angle.

After all, he may not be patient, but he is persistent.

And he suspects being a liar will come in handy, for this one.

[itsclydebitches]

I've been thinking about Astarion's lack of reflection combined with the, "Lol how can this idiot think he's hiding his vampire status his bite marks are RIGHT THERE" reaction from the fandom. Crazy thought but what if Astarion just... doesn't know? It's not like he can see the marks for himself. Would anyone ever mention that to him? Does every vampire scar so deeply? (I personally didn't catch any on his siblings.) Can he feel them? I have scars that look very raised but don't feel significantly different from the surrounding skin. Or at least, I may not have realized what I was feeling was a scar without having seen it first.

Really, I think it's difficult for those of us with sight to conceptualize just how much we take our appearance for granted—how often we see it throughout the day and how much subconscious info we glean from it. Does Astarion know how high a collar needs to be to hide potential scars? How wide he can open his mouth before his fangs show? That the white of his hair looks significantly different from someone who has aged? Sure, he'll pick up on some things from being around his siblings (oh look, everyone has glowy eyes. I must have those too) but even among the spawn there's a lot of diversity. It's not like seeing them truly gives Astarion a sense of what he looks like. Now, toss in the fact that he was enslaved within a community that likely wasn't offering up a lot of insight purely out of the goodness of their hearts (here, let me sketch you) and the fact that Astarion's job was seduction (obviously I still look 'normal' enough that people will trust/sleep with me) and I don't think it's outside the realm of possibility that he doesn't quite Get™ how vamapire-y he looks.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Randomly thinking about “tolerate it” (narrator voice: it was not random) and how under the cloak of fiction it is ostensibly inspired by works like “Rebecca” (which Taylor said she read during the 2020 lockdowns I believe?), with the line of “you’re so much older and wiser” indicating that the speaker is significantly younger and inexperienced compared to the person she’s speaking to and a pretty direct reference to the plot of the book.

But I saw something somewhere once that stuck with me about how it might not be referring to relative age between the characters but chronological age as in the passage of time in a relationship. And that made me think about how in a contemporary context, it might not necessarily be referencing an actual age gap between the two characters, but rather a sarcastic or cynical response to the man’s claims that he has matured (“you’re so much older and wiser [than you were before/than you were when we met/etc.]”), which then made me think about that line in relation to the woman. And that it could be taken like, “you act like you’ve matured so much in our time together and like you know everything, while I’m supposedly still stuck as the girl I was when we first met.”

Which then made me think of the “right where you left me” of it all and did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen time went on for everyone else she won’t know it and the bit in Miss Americana where she talks about how celebrities get frozen at the age at which they got famous, and how she’s had to play catch up in a lot of ways not just in her emotional growth but kind of in general. (Which also made me wonder if she’s ever been called out for immaturity/lack of curiosity/lack of education about things in her life…)

Which then made me think about the rest of the song, and @taylortruther’s posts yesterday about “seven” and “Daylight” and the way Taylor idealizes her youth yet contrasts it with an almost sinister reality in its wake, and the line, “I sit by the door like I’m just a kid,” because the discussion raised that her relationship let her recapture some of the childlike joy and wonder she’d lost. So this line is a double-edged sword: the speaker sits by the door with childlike hope that the person will come home and cherish her, but on the darker side, feels like the child dealing with the monsters she doesn’t have names for yet and the feelings of isolation she felt as she aged.

I’m not saying the song is necessarily autobiographical; like most of the songs on folkmore, it’s clearly a fictionalized story based on media she’d consumed and created, but we know a lot of the fictional songs were infused with her own feelings and experiences and… This idea swirling in my head picked up steam and now I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Sorry but I’m a little obsessed now.

Like maybe it might start to shed light on why she identified so strongly with the novel in the first place…